Raw Need
“Makes it hard to connect with people.”
“It does. What happened to your mother?”
He drew a breath, rolling over to his back to stare at the ceiling as if he couldn’t bear to look at her while he said it. “She was a junkie. Heroin was her poison. One day, she shot up too much. It was in August and school was out, but once Mike and Damien and I were old enough to leave the house on our own, we left in the morning and were gone as long as we possibly could be all day. But for some reason I came home first that day. I found her.”
Rowan knew that no words had ever been a comfort to her when terrible things happened, so she didn’t bother with them now. She simply closed her eyes and fought back the horrible image he presented to her.
“She was often passed out, so I didn’t think much of it when I saw her lying across her bed. Rowan, I hung out in my room for probably two hours with her dead in her bedroom, because I didn’t think to even check if she was breathing. For all I know, she might have still been alive when I came home. Maybe it had just happened, maybe I could have saved her. But I didn’t check.” His chest heaved with one mighty breath. “It was August, like I said. It was so fucking hot. It always is that time of year, you know how it is. So hot you can’t breathe. And maybe it’s just hindsight, but something about that day just . . . it was like the world was on fire. Even in my house, in my room, I was sweating.”
“Your band name. I always wondered where it really came from.”
“The guys don’t even know where it came from. We always joke about it when people ask, and say, ‘Have you ever been to Houston in August?’ I don’t know why I felt the need to commemorate that day like that. I guess because it started me on the path.”
“And look at you now.” She tried for a smile, but never quite got there.
He was still stuck in the past. “I lied to Mike when he got home that day. I said I had just gotten there myself, and I checked, and she was dead, all this bloody foam coming from her mouth. I’ve never told that to another person on this earth.” He turned his head toward her then, his eyes blank and glassy.
“I don’t know what to say,” she said softly.
Zane shrugged. “Nothing to say. It’s done. Mike was a better provider for us than she ever was. Even at that age, though, I thought about my dad showing up to get me. I always hoped he had a better life somehow, even though I knew it wasn’t likely. Now is when he would,” he added bitterly. “Show up with his hand out. That’s the kind of people she ran with. There’s no reason he would be any different.”
“I think you’re very strong,” she ventured. “You’re someone I’m proud to know.”
The tightness around his eyes faded, his expression melting. “Likewise.”
“You remember how you told me on our first date that you wish things could be different? You don’t know how much . . .” Her voice gave out on her, and she struggled to maintain her composure.
“I already told you,” he said. “I’ll wait. I’ll wait until they are.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You don’t have to. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.” He pulled her into his arms, again . . . and she let him, even though he’d asked her not to. It felt so right here. “And what I said earlier about staying away from you? Scratch that. I can’t. Can’t fucking stay away.”
Thank God. Because she couldn’t let him. Her body sang against his. Every nerve ending was alive and yearning. He was so close. He was right here. But he might as well be a million miles from her, for all her hang-ups and fears and misgivings. They created a chasm she didn’t know if they could ever bridge.
Chapter Thirteen
Zane hadn’t been lying when he described tour life to her. A lot of waiting. A lot of staring at walls. Very little glamour. The people who had left her starstruck on day one held little appeal by day ten. Miles and miles they went, through cities she never would have been inclined to visit, but she was happy for the opportunity. And Zane did his best to make it fun, but she honestly would hate to think this was her life for several months out of the year.
The shopping he’d promised, though, was indeed spectacular. Nikki even went out with her once, and though Rowan had been nervous, she was surprised by how down-to-earth William’s wife was, and how much she liked her. It was nice to have a friend out here. They ate at all the best restaurants, stayed at all the best hotels. Saw all the sights there were to see.
In St. Louis, everything changed.
Rowan didn’t open her eyes for the day until after noon. Life on the road had thrown off her sleep schedule, though she found it agreed with her more to stay up later in the night and sleep later in the day. Regina probably would have called her lazy, but Regina probably would have called her a lot of things.
She heard Zane at the front of the bus, already up and talking to Jase, so she picked up her cell phone first. Later, she would wish she hadn’t. In fact she would wish she had thrown the damn thing out the window in Atlanta.
Savannah hadn’t seen fit to continue the conversation that had been interrupted over a week ago. Neither had Rowan. But now, she had received a message from her a couple of hours ago. It bore no commentary, only a link to a website that appeared to be an August on Fire fan site. As she clicked on it, a cold pit of dread yawned wide in her stomach, nausea rushing in to fill it.
Fans were sharing the pictures of her and Zane that had been snapped at different tour stops and locales along the way. They were speculating about who she was, if he was in a relationship with her, if he was about to be a father.
Most of the females were not happy about it. Several of the fans who had been in the audience at Hammerdown were convinced Zane and Ava Marks were engaged in a torrid affair. Of course Zane couldn’t be seeing this other girl, or he wouldn’t have practically made out with Ava onstage.
Made out?
“Jesus Christ,” Rowan grumbled, tossing her phone aside and pulling the blanket over her head. As soon as she had done so, another message came through. She snaked her arm out to grab the device, then pulled it under with her.
Savannah again. It is the utmost disrespect to Tommy’s memory for people to be thinking the baby you’re carrying isn’t his.
Rowan’s eyes swiftly filled with tears. Okay, she thought. Okay. She couldn’t get angry. Savannah was hurt, and she could understand that. But it didn’t matter, in her mind, what a handful of idiots thought when everyone who mattered knew the truth.
She wrote back: I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m sorry.
Well, it’s happened. It’s spreading, too. It’s on several sites.
She didn’t want to ask the question on her mind, but she had to. Closing her eyes in a prayer for strength, she typed it. Does Regina know?
I had to tell her where you were when you left. I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time before she sees all this, because she’s trying to keep up with where you are. It’s going to break her heart. Please come home. It’ll be all right. We can fix this.
Rowan didn’t reply. She needed to think.
The shows were so much fun. She loved watching every single one. At one time, her dream had been to follow this band on tour, and now she was living that dream, live and in her face. Sharing the front man’s bed every night. While they kissed and caressed and held each other, he had the patience of a saint. She had no question his feelings were intense, or he would have sent her ass packing by now. But if it wasn’t right for her, he’d told her, it wasn’t right for him.
That both frightened and exhilarated her. She wanted him so much she lived in a state of arousal. At first she’d tried to resist, but she didn’t know how much resolve she had left. He was so beautiful. Talented. So good to her, granting her every desire if it was within his power.
Now she had to think about leaving the dream behind. But only for a while, maybe. There would be other opportunities, she supposed. If they continued this . . . whatever it
was.
Whatever it was, it made her feel safe. For the first time in a while, she felt good. Grounded.
If she didn’t have much more time left with him, she wouldn’t spend it worrying. Stretching out on the bed, she put both hands on her belly and said good morning to her little resident. Only then did she remember the dream she’d had the night before, and it was as if an icy hand clutched her heart.
She’d dreamed about Tommy. It had been a while since she had. For their honeymoon, they’d taken a trip to Hawaii, and she’d dreamed that he was standing on a beach, his back to her, the wind tousling his dark hair. Palm trees swayed and exotic flowers grew all around, but despite the lush tropical beauty surrounding him, he was dressed all in black. Even in the dream, that had made her feel uneasy.
“Tommy?” she’d said, walking closer. He turned, smiling at her, and only then did she see he was holding a little girl dressed all in pink, with a ruffled bow in her hair. She looked just like him with a tuft of dark hair, and her smile had lit up her little face. Rowan had wanted to go to them, hold them in her arms and never let them go, but every time she tried to walk closer, they seemed to move farther away. And farther . . . and farther. But still waving and smiling, as if they were waiting for her. Finally, she was running, calling him, sand kicking up around her pounding feet, but she could never reach them.
She’d woken up trembling, breathing raggedly. She’d snuggled close to Zane and somehow fallen back to sleep, but that dream had shaken her.
The sun was bright and shining today, though, washing away the fears and uncertainties of the night . . . the only uncertainties that remained were the ones Savannah had just put into her head. She could hear Zane laughing now, and while she lay there relishing the sound for as long as it lasted, it twisted something inside her too. Sighing, she finally threw the covers off and got up.
“Good afternoon, beautiful,” he said when she finally ambled up front after dressing, both hands at the small of her back because putting forth even the slightest effort made her ache. Zane was alone now, and he was the one dressed all in black with his silky hair loose around his shoulders. “I was about to come wake you. Your decaf is made, if you want it. Though I still don’t understand why you bother.”
She chuckled, heading straight for the coffeepot. “Old habits die hard.”
“Ain’t that the damn truth. Are you hungry?”
“Eh. Not really, not yet. How long have you been up?”
Even the question made him yawn and rub adorably at one eye. “A couple hours. I didn’t sleep all that well.”
“Did my snoring keep you up?” She still hadn’t forgotten that.
He grinned that grin she loved to see and patted his lap. “Maybe. Come here.”
Once her cup was poured and creamer added, she obeyed, carefully perching on his muscular thighs while his arms went around her. “How did you sleep?” he asked as she sipped from her mug.
The dream came back to brush at her mind with ghostly fingers. “I had a . . . weird dream. Not necessarily a bad one, I don’t guess, except at the end. It bothered me.”
“What was it about?”
“Tommy. The baby. I couldn’t reach them. I was running, and . . .” She shook her head and took another sip. “I never made it to them. I woke up.”
“Hmm.” He placed a kiss on her shoulder. As she was only wearing a cami and shorts, her skin was bare to the gentle caress of his lips. It sent a warmth through her, chasing out some of the cold places. “The dreams, they’ll get you every time,” he said. “Start that whole cycle over again, like we talked about.”
She nodded. “I’m okay, though.”
“Good. That’s my girl.”
His girl. A different sort of unease worked through her. “Zane . . . it’s possible I might need to go home. I know I’ve said it before. And you know I don’t want to. But I think it’s time.”
He sighed, letting his head thud back against the couch cushions. “Who texted you this time?”
She might have gotten pissed at the implication if he weren’t dead-on. “Savannah.”
“Of course.”
“I don’t think you and I fully realized the trouble we would start by doing this.”
“Maybe we didn’t at first. But the trouble has come, and honestly, I’ve decided I don’t give a shit about it.”
Did he know more than he’d let on? “What do you mean? Have you seen what the fans are saying?”
“No, but I’ve been told. I was hoping it wouldn’t get back to you.”
“It’s gotten back to my family. The way everyone thinks we’re together. That you might be the father of my baby. It’s hurt them a lot. It’s . . . not fair to Tommy’s memory. It really isn’t.”
“Are these your words, or Savannah’s?”
She looked at him sharply. “On this, we agree.”
Finally he said what she’d known he was leading up to. “You’re like a little puppet dancing on the end of their strings, Rowan.”
Surging up from his lap, she tossed the rest of her coffee in the sink and slammed the mug on the counter. “Fine. I’ll dance on back to New Orleans, if that’s what you think.”
“Don’t get angry. You know I’m right. We just need to cut you loose.”
“We?” she snapped. “Zane, I can’t . . .” Sighing, she crossed her arms and took a moment to gather her thoughts. “There is no cutting me loose. Even if there were, this isn’t your problem. It’s mine.”
He reached forward, taking her hand. “What do you want?”
“I can’t have what I want,” she said softly, realizing it for the absolute truth that it was. “I don’t matter in this equation.”
“Bull. Fucking. Shit.”
“Oh, easy for you to say,” she said. “You don’t have anyone to answer to. You’re master of your domain. You can go wherever, whenever the fuck you want. I have obligations. I have responsibilities. I’m about to be a mother, for Christ’s sake.”
“Millions of women are, Rowan. They still have their own lives.”
“What do you know about it?” she bit back, then immediately cringed at the way it sounded. The unintentional barb hit its target. Zane got to his feet, a coldness in his dark eyes she couldn’t recall ever seeing.
“Maybe I know fuck-all about mothers,” he ground out, heading for the steps and outside. “But I know plenty about making your own goddamn way in the world.” His feet thudded heavily on each step as he went out, leaving her alone. Which was the last thing she wanted to be. What the hell had she come here for, if not to escape her loneliness?
Teeth gritted so tightly her jaw ached, she made her way back to the bedroom to collect her phone. It was then that another blow hit her—how many more could she expect today? She’d missed a call from Regina within the last five minutes.
Might as well take that hit while she was ready to fight. She hit the call back button, but as soon as she heard her mother-in-law’s tone over the line, she wished she’d put it off for a while.
“Rowan,” she snapped. “What in God’s name are you doing to us?”
Just like that, every ounce of the fight went out of her. She sat in absolute silence, gripping the phone so hard that now her knuckles ached.
“Are you there?”
“I’m here.”
Tommy’s mother drew a deep breath. “Good. I don’t need you to respond, I need you to listen. I don’t know what’s come over you, but we won’t stand for it. You have taken complete leave of your senses. You are a danger to yourself, Rowan. You’re a danger to that baby growing inside you!” Now she was growing shrill, and Rowan dropped her head into her free hand, dismayed at the accusations. “Our son’s baby. You always said you loved him, and I always believed you, but I’m beginning to doubt. If you loved him at all, come home. Because so help me God, if you don’t, we will do everything in our power to take that child from you when she’s born, do you hear me? She will not be raised in that environment!” br />
Cold terror raced through Rowan’s veins. Could they do that? Was that even a remote possibility? Surely not. But Jesus Christ, how had it come to this? The woman who’d treated her like her own daughter for so long had just threatened to rip her child away from her.
Her anger was in ashes, extinguished by each word that Regina had hurled across the distance between them. They had hit their mark, every one. “I hear you,” Rowan said quietly.
Knowing she had won, Regina softened immediately. “Tell me where you are and we will get you here, honey. We just need you back.”
“No. You don’t have to do that.” Rowan glanced toward the front of the bus. She didn’t think Zane had come back yet to hear the words she spoke. “I’ll be home tomorrow.”
* * *
He didn’t know what to do with her. The very vulnerability that had drawn him to her was flinging them apart now, and he couldn’t save someone who didn’t want to be saved. He knew that; he’d always known it. His very profession guaranteed that he met people fitting that description every damn day of his life. At one point, he’d been one of them.
Rowan’s vice wasn’t pills or alcohol or narcotics. It was the fucking people in her life dictating her every move when, in his eyes, they had no right. He didn’t give a shit who they were or what ties they had to the kid inside her. She still had autonomy.
Or maybe he was the fucking dumbass she’d treated him like just now. Maybe he really didn’t know shit about shit. Let her dance home to New Orleans on her marionette strings and live in misery. Wasn’t his business.
Except it was now, and goddamn, it pissed him off. They were breaking this beautiful woman, this sweet, loving, caring person who only wanted something good in her life to not be so cruelly snatched away from her. How many times could you yank a toy away from a child’s hands before he stopped trying to take it back? How many more heartaches did she have to face before she gave up completely? Here he was, trying like a motherfucker to give everything to her, and she wouldn’t take it. Whether it was because of those people or lingering devotion to her husband or both, he wasn’t sure, but she wouldn’t survive this tug-of-war for much longer before she was ripped in half. He could see it all over her face.