Return to Me (Breaking Free Book 2) Read online

  According to the press, we’re an item. We’re in love. Us Weekly recently posed the question - Are there wedding bells in the future for Trin Sinclair and Kane Burke?

  It’s a good thing they never asked me, ‘cause the answer is a big Hell No.

  I’ve only got fourteen days left of this tour. Six more shows. I am so ready to get off this bus, get my feet back on solid ground, and take a break from Kane and all the rest of it.

  I may be ready for a break, but Kane’s not. He does a superman dive back onto the bed, jostling me.

  I glare at him. “I thought I told you to get lost.”

  “Are you in the mood for a pick me up this morning?” he asks, flashing me a big grin.

  I know I should say no, but I’ve got a loooong day ahead of me. I’m kind of surprised my assistant Mia hasn’t poked her head in to drag my ass out of bed yet.

  Back in the day coffee was all the pick me up I ever indulged in, but that was then, and this is now. “Lock the door. Mia just barges in, and she runs and tattles to Conner all the time. I don’t need another lecture from Dad.”

  I got my start with Conner and his brother in some little bluegrass band six years ago. He’s a nice enough guy, and he’s good at dealing with the label and our manager, but he can be a huge pain too.

  Conner is eight years older than me, but he acts like he’s fifty, and his wife is friends with my family. I don’t need any more phone calls from my real dad, or my older sister. I don’t need them trying to send my ass to rehab again either.

  Thirty minutes later I am wide, wide awake, showered, and wearing a silk robe while Mia gives me the rundown of my day. As she babbles, a girl with a floral tattoo splashed across her upper chest does my makeup. Kane is probably getting the same treatment in his own rolling home away from home, because first up is an interview with a local news station that we’re doing together.

  Kane holds my hand during the whole thing. He watches my face in this adoring, practiced way while I answer the same handful of questions I always get asked.

  I’ve only ever had one man look at me that way for real, and I ruined that. I destroyed it. I broke the only real thing I had in my life.

  I broke it into a million pieces, and ran off because facing what I’d done threatened to break me. Now I’m stuck with a fake boyfriend, surrounded by fake people who don’t give a shit about me.

  As soon as the camera stops rolling, Kane drops my hand and picks up his phone. He’s still on his phone as we ride back. I stare out the window at the busy streets of the city that never sleeps.

  I always dreamed about coming here when I was a kid, and I’ve been a bunch of time now. I can’t even count how many times I’ve visited New York, but it’s not like I can just get out and walk around, not unless I want to deal with more people who don’t give a shit about me, not the real me anyways.

  I know I sound bitchy and ungrateful, but I really am thankful for what I have. No one has to tell me twice that I’m lucky as hell. I got the opportunity of a lifetime thrown right in my lap when I was eighteen, a three record deal that far more talented and deserving musicians would die for.

  But it gets old after a while, and I’m tired. A twenty four year old such as myself has no business feeling this weary, especially after those two rails of blow this morning. More than anything I’m lonely. I didn’t realize it was possible to be this alone. Day in and day out everyone around me is either getting paid to be there, or they are paying to come watch me perform.

  Everyone wants something, and I just want to be left alone.

  The limo glides to a stop, and Kane gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before hopping out. His duties for the day are over, but mine are just starting. I shake out two pills from a bottle in my purse, and wash them down with a water from the limo mini bar. It’s way too early for a real drink. There will be time for that later.

  Our next stop is a posh restaurant in midtown called Elements. I slide my sunglasses on for the short walk from the curb to the door. Inside I’m led to a private table.

  My manager Brent is already waiting, and he has two suits with him, probably from the record label if I had to guess.

  “Where’s Conner?” I ask, taking the last available seat.

  “How are you doing, doll?”

  “Where’s Conner?” I ask again. I’m not the naive eighteen year old girl I was when I first met Brent, but I still don’t feel competent to deal with him alone.

  Brent is slick. He’s a sleazeball. Of all the people in my life that don’t give a shit about me, he gives the least of a shit. The only thing he cares about is his cut.

  “We’re just having a friendly lunch, Trin.” He laughs and motions for the waiter. “It’s been forever since we’ve sat down, just the two of us.”

  I stare at the guys to either side of him pointedly.

  Introductions are made, and I learn I was right. The guys in suits are from a record label, but not my record label.

  I’ve already signed on for my next album with Arista, but these two from Sony have an offer he thinks I’ll want to hear. It’s such a good offer, it’ll be worth the legal headache to break my current contract.

  Brent slides a glass of champagne in my direction. “Three albums, Trin. They want to offer you another three album deal. Isn’t that fabulous?”

  I know he’s going to try and get me to sign something before I get up from this table, and I’m not signing a damn thing. I already fell for this shit once.

  “We’re going for a whole new Trin,” the suit to his left says.

  The suit to his right gives me a sly wink. “We’re going to put the Sin back in Sinclair.”

  I laugh under my breath, and he smiles wider. Perhaps he thinks I haven’t heard that one a million times before.

  Brent clears his throat quietly. “The truth is, I didn’t invite Conner because they don’t want to bring him along. Or Kane. And we’re thinking about taking another direction with the songwriter you work with. They’ve got a whole team over there, Trin.”

  Getting rid of Kane sounds just fine to me. Part of me wouldn’t mind having Conner off my back too. He’s an annoying nag, but I trust him. I trust his brother Nolan, who’s helped me write many of the songs on the last two albums.

  I don’t trust any of these assholes grinning at me currently.

  Sipping my champagne slowly, I listen to their speil. I sort of have to unless I want to try and get a cab outside without being harrassed. Brent planned this whole thing out. I’m trapped for the next thirty minutes at least. Maybe the next hour.

  I really wish I had a clear head right now.

  First they want me to dump Kane publicly, and there will be a leak that he’s been unfaithful, which is the perfect segue into my next album which will be full of heartbreak - angsty, and more adult. The tweens who latched onto me several years ago are growing up. They want something with more substance.

  There’s a rising pop star named Jake Montgomery. Have I heard of him? I haven’t, but Brent thinks we’ll hit it off. For album number two they are already envisioning a handful of romantic duets, and a few edgier tracks.

  I haven’t even dumped my current fake boyfriend, and they’ve already got a new one lined up for me.

  “And we want to revamp your style a bit too,” the suit to the right says.

  The one on the left lets his eyes glaze down my torso. “You’re a beautiful girl, Trin, but we’re thinking for album number three, we really cut loose. I’m close, personal friends with a surgeon. He’s the best in the nation. Best in the world really, and by that time you’ll be almost thirty.”

  I toss back my glass, is it my second or third? “I’m not getting a boob job. My tits are already big enough, and I’m not injecting that shit into my lips again. I’m not interested. I’m not interested in going under the knife, and I’m not interested in signing away the next six years of my life either.”

  “Trin,” Brent says sternly. “If you walk away from this
-”

  “I would looove to walk away from all this. I don’t know why I ever let you talk me into this next record.” My words sound slurred even to my own ears. What else did Mia say I have to do today? “If they can get me out of that deal with Arista… How much would it cost me to break contract?”

  “You can’t,” Brent says fast. “You can’t, but they can. They have a whole legal team, and you don’t.”

  “I can hire a lawyer too!”

  “Trin, this is your dream.”

  It was my dream, but somehow it’s all starting to feel like a nightmare.

  I stand up to leave, knocking over a full glass of champagne that Brent has just poured for me, and my chair tips backwards.

  Brent throws the two suits an apologetic smile, and jumps to his feet to escort me out. “I can not believe you did that,” he says in a harsh whisper close to my ear. “Do you have any idea how much money you just walked away from?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “When you sober up, you might care.”

  He might care, but I don’t.

  Brent’s leads me back outside with a hand on the small of my back. Even as fucked up as I am currently, I can feel the anger rolling off him in waves. When I break down into tears inside the back of the limo, he seems less angry. “Have you eaten yet?” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  “No wonder. You were drinking on an empty stomach.”

  He knows better than that, but I think he would rather avoid another twenty one day vacation for me until this last leg of the tour is over. I’d rather avoid it too.

  “I’m going to call Mia, have her clear your schedule for the rest of the day. You need to rest, Trin. You’ve got a big show tomorrow.” He pulls me up against his chest, and rubs my shoulder. “I know you’re tired, and wore out. I am too. Trust me.”

  I don’t trust him, but I let him comfort me. I don’t care for Kane much either, but I already suspect he’ll be sleeping beside me tonight.

  I just need to make it for fourteen more days. Six more shows. If I can get through that, then things will be better.

  Chapter 3

  Gabe

  Rose has strawberry blonde hair like Leah, blue eyes like me, and more energy than both of us combined. She certainly gives me a run for my money the next Saturday when I take her after three hours of sleep. The apartment I’m staying in is tiny, temporary. Or at least that was the plan when I plucked down the first months rent almost three months ago.

  I need to make a decision one way or the other.

  Leah wants to go back to that marriage counselor, but I don’t see the point. I don’t even see how we could find the time to go even if I wanted to. She works days, I work nights, and that’s unlikely to change any time soon.

  It could change if I quit my job.

  She wants me to quit. Leah never wanted me to become a cop in the first place. In her opinion, it’s too dangerous, and now that we have a child, it’s not worth the risk.

  Her plan to fix all this is for me to find a new job, somehow overlook the fact that she’s been carrying on with some guy behind my back for over six months, a man she still works with by the way. Oh yeah, and she wants to throw another baby into the mix. Rose is gonna need a brother or sister to grow up with according to her, and we don’t want to leave it too late.

  That’ll definitely fix everything.

  “Let’s zip you up,” I say, kneeling down to do up her coat.

  Rose grins at me, and lets me scoop her up into my arms. She doesn’t have a clue about what’s happening, not an inkling. I never wanted to be a part time dad. I still don’t, but I don’t see how I’m ever gonna be able to trust Leah again.

  If we end this now, Rose will be too young to understand. She’s still a baby. She’ll grow up not knowing any different, but if we keep hanging on, chances are everything will blow up again at some point in the future.

  I don’t want to have her brought up around us fighting all the time either, and boy did we ever. Even before she cheated on me, or began an emotional affair as Leah and the marriage counselor like to call it, we fought all the damn time.

  We fought about me not rinsing the dishes off before I put them in the dishwasher. We fought about her spending money we didn’t have on all kinds of dumb shit that we didn’t need. Me not being firm enough with Rose. Her being too firm when our daughter is still a baby. Me not being affectionate unless I wanted to have sex. Her not wanting to have sex unless I spent hours cuddling and listening to her whine about some reality show, and her sister’s asshole boyfriend.

  I think it all boils down to - We were too damn young to get married in the first place.

  The second I slid that ring on her finger, everything changed. Suddenly it was Leah’s way, or the cold shoulder. Leah’s way, or the couch. Leah’s way, or her throwing a tearful hissy fit when I refused to do things Leah’s way.

  Maybe I didn’t try hard enough to meet her halfway, but halfway kept shifting further and further to her side. The more I gave, the more she wanted. Sad to say, I don’t think I was what she wanted to begin with.

  Leah wanted to get married. She wanted a wedding, and a baby, and I guess she figured that even if I wasn’t exactly what she wanted to begin with, given enough time and nagging, I could be.

  I was already starting to realize we’d made a huge mistake when Surprise! “We’re going to have a baby, Gabe!”

  I’m still not entirely convinced that was all accidental on her part, not that I’m complaining. Rose is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love her more than I knew it was possible to love. I would do anything to see that baby girl smile. She’s the reason I’ve been hanging on these last months, holding out for a change of heart.

  But I think I’ve held out long enough.

  When I express that thought to my older sister out on her back deck while Rose frollicks with her cousins in the yard, Becca blinks at me, then stares out to where her oldest is raking leaves into a pile for the younger kids to jump in.

  A big part of me wants to fling it out there - She cheated on me, but I don’t, partly because even I don’t know if I’d consider it cheating really. Leah wasn’t sending this guy pics of her tits. They weren’t talking dirty to each other. She bitched about me a lot, and he bitched about his wife, and they sent lots, and lots of flirty messages back and forth.

  Missed you today.

  I had a dream about you last night, and before you ask, not that kind of dream. LOL.

  Are you wearing a new perfume? You smell good enough to eat.

  But who knows what I didn’t see, and they do work together. With all those swing shifts I was pulling, it’s anyone’s guess what she got up to when I wasn’t home. On the other hand, maybe she just wanted someone to talk to since I wasn’t talking much even when I was home.

  “What happened?” Becca asks.

  “It’s a lot of things.”

  “What kind of things?”

  I shake my head, and watch Rose do a reverse swan dive into the crunchy autumn leaves.

  “You have a baby, Gabe.”

  “No shit.”

  Becca sighs. “Have you tried talking to a counselor?”

  “Yup.”

  “Well, what did they say?”

  “She said she’d be happy to keep taking our money as long as we kept showing up.”

  Becca laughs.

  “I haven’t been living there for a few months now. I’m at a place in town.”

  “What? Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Because I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do.”

  My sister pulls her jacket tighter around her body. “You two were awfully young when you got married.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  Becca giggles. “She always hated me.”

  I don’t bother to disagree. Leah didn’t like my family much, or my friends, or my job. I’m a little surprised she wants to fix this being that she didn’t seem to like a thing about me
to begin with.

  “Mom and Dad are gonna have a cow.”

  “Let ‘em.” My parents are very religious, but then so are Leah’s. This is going to be a mess all the way around.

  “Maybe it’s a good thing. You’re barely twenty five, Gabe. Most people aren’t even settling down at that age, ya know?”

  I’m not sure if I’m at the point I can see it as a good thing yet, but I’m finally resigned to the fact that it needs to happen.

  ∞∞∞

  When I arrive with Rose on Sunday evening, Leah greets us at the door with a big smile. She’s wearing a pale green sweater the same shade at her eyes. Her hair is glossy and falling over one shoulder strategically. When I bustle past her, I catch of whiff of spicey vanilla, some perfume she wears from time to time.

  I wonder if that’s what she wearing the day her friend said she smelled good enough to eat.

  Leah asks about our weekend. I don’t inquire about hers. For the past several months, this would be when I’d make my leave, but instead I ask if we can have a word after Rose goes down for the night.

  Her smile is radiant until I don’t return the smile, then her face crumples momentarily. She manages to maintain herself. I guess she already knows, but with Rose between us she holds it in.

  I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish it could be different.

  Leah wishes too. When I tell her the news, she takes it about how I anticipated, horribly. Black tears streak down her cheeks, but her face is pure rage as she hisses a loud whisper. “I didn’t sleep with him!”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “I could’ve, but I didn’t.”

  “Well, now you’re free to sleep with whomever you want. Won’t that be nice?”

  “I don’t want anyone else. I want it to be you. I’m sorry, Gabe. Just tell me what I need to do to fix this.”

  I tip my head back, and stare at the ceiling. “Maybe this is one of those things we shouldn’t bother fixing, Leah. We just aren’t right for each other.”