Return to Me (Breaking Free Book 2) Read online

  “We were perfect for each other until I… Gabe, he didn’t mean anything to me. I told you that.”

  “And I told you, I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m done.”

  “You’re just going to walk away from your family over something so stupid. I didn’t sleep with him!”

  “I’m not walking away from my family. I’m not leaving Rose. I’m leaving you, and you already left. You were moving on.”

  “Because you’re a dick! You didn’t want anything to do with me half the time.”

  “You’re right. I’m a dick. I admit it. I wasn’t here when I needed to be here, and now you can find someone else, but I’m not leaving Rose. I want to do this amicably, Leah. For her sake.”

  “You never loved me at all, did you?”

  “Of course I did.”

  “What do I have to do to get your attention? Want me to sing you a song? Do I need to hump a guitar?”

  “She has nothing to do with this. I haven’t seen her for years.”

  “She has everything to do with this, and you have seen her. We both have. We see her all the fucking time.”

  “How is that my fault? You act like I sit around listening to that crap music she makes. I don’t!”

  “She got rid of your baby, Gabe. She did that. How can you even want-”

  “I don’t want a thing from her, and she doesn’t want a thing from me. I haven’t seen or heard from Trin in so long I can’t remember. I doubt she’d even know who I was if she passed me on the street.”

  “What are our parents going to say?”

  “Who gives a shit?”

  “I give a shit!”

  “I already told Becca, so I’m sure-”

  “Told her what?” Leah asks suspiciously.

  “I told her we just aren’t right for each other, and if you can act like an adult, and not try and hold Rose over my head, that’s all I’ll tell anybody. She shouldn’t have to suffer because we can’t get along.”

  Looking defeated, Leah’s shoulders slump. “I guess we’re getting divorced.”

  ∞∞∞

  Shane parks his cruiser facing the woods. My windshield faces the road, and I keep the radar pointed towards the main strip leading away from town towards the expressway. It’s not usually worth the trouble to take both rides during the middle of the week. That’s how tight Trenton’s budget is currently, they’d rather we leave that second cruiser parked to save fuel.

  I’m lucky as hell I was able to land this job in the first place, but if that next round of budget cuts we keep hearing about goes through, I’ll be first on the chopping block.

  “You’re too damn young to be getting divorced,” Shane says.

  “I was too young to get married in the first place.”

  He murmurs his agreement. “So you really think she was fucking this guy?”

  A car zips past, ten over. I let it slide. “I don’t think I care much one way or the other at this point.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Some doctor she works with.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “I’m not giving you his name, ‘cause I don’t need you messing with him. Right now Leah is willing to be reasonable, and I don’t want to give her an excuse to be a bitch.”

  “You’re a better man than me. I’d probably go kick this guy’s ass, or at least scare the shit out of him.” Shane starts to laugh. “You really are a little angel, rookie.”

  “Shut up, asshole.”

  “I’d offer to go buy you a beer to drown your sorrows, or celebrate all the pussy you’re gonna be swimming in, but I don’t drink.” Shane leans back, withdraws something from his pocket. He flips a coin through the air, and catches it in his palm. “Coming up on five years sober next month.”

  I’m a little taken aback. Shane jokes around a lot, but he doesn’t usually let go of much. “Congratulations. Five years is a long time.”

  “I guess I was clawing my way out of a bottle right about when you were going on your honeymoon.”

  “That’s about when you got married too, isn’t it?”

  “Nah. We’ve only been hitched for four, but that’s how we met, at a meeting.” Shane laughs and jams the coin back in his pocket. “I don’t really go to meetings anymore. Dealing with all these drunks on the weekends is enough to keep me on the wagon.”

  A car glides past eight below. The headlights bob back and forth across the double yellow. I set the radar aside and flick on my lights. “Speaking of drunks, look alive. Got us a 502.”

  Chapter 4

  Trin

  “Did you do this!” I shake the wilted bouquet of black roses at Kane.

  He peers at me warily through the crack in his tour bus door. “Why would I get you flowers? You made it pretty fucking clear that you don’t want anything to do with me.”

  “Well, someone did! They were laying on my bed, along with a creepy letter.” The anger drains from my voice. “You really didn’t do this?”

  “No!”

  “Can I come in?”

  “I’ve got company.”

  I sigh loudly.

  “Give me a minute, and I’ll get rid of her.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” I stalk back to my own bus, and dump the flowers in the trash, then I call Brent and give him a peace of my mind. He was supposed to take care of this for me.

  I’ve had a few stalkers. It kind of goes with the territory, but I’ve never had one get this close to me before. Kane knocks at the door, and I let him in. I don’t want to see him right now, but I don’t want to be alone either.

  Brent arrives a short while later. His eyes flick across the short, handwritten message. When he looks back up at me, the line between his eyebrows is deeper than usual.

  “Should we call the police?” I ask.

  “That would be a lot of bad press,” Brent says.

  “This weirdo was in my bus!”

  “Was your door locked?”

  I shake my head. I usually don’t bother. The lot is safe, or so I thought.

  “I’m going to have security question the staff,” Brent promises. “We’re going to get this taken care of, but you shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

  Kane gives me a shy smile.

  “I don’t want you here,” I say to him.

  “You’re the one who knocked on my door,” he reminds me.

  “Yeah, cause I thought you were messing with me.”

  When Kane caught wind that I was trying to back out of the next record, he said some pretty shitty things. I said some shitty things right back. Maybe the press thinks we’re still an item, but there is no pretending between us anymore.

  It doesn’t matter anyways. I can’t get out of that contract unless I want to walk away without a penny. I’ve made lots of money, but I’ve spent lots too. It’s not like I’d actually be penniless, but I’ve got to think about the future. Everyone knows my face. Getting a normal job, and leading a normal life isn’t in the cards for me anymore.

  I’m trapped for one more record.

  “I’ll stay,” Brent offers.

  I laugh bitterly. “No thanks.”

  He gives me a moderately stern look. “I’ll sleep on the couch, Trin. Obviously.”

  I don’t really want to make nice with some no name bodyguard. Conner would probably be willing to crash on my couch, but I don’t want to see him right now either.

  I spotted him skulking off with some skank after our show on Wednesday. He’s married, and I’m friends with his wife. She’s at home pregnant with their second baby, and he’s banging randoms after shows. I know better than anyone that it gets lonely out here, but I thought he was different.

  What happens on the road, stays on the road. That’s the line anyway, so I guess I have to keep that tidbit to myself.

  The whole thing makes me sad.

  My dad cheated on my mom. Kane cheated on me, and he cheated first, but I see that kind of thing out here all the time. I’m starting to beli
eve it’s all bullshit. Love is fake. People are only as faithful as they have to be. Every one of those stupid songs I sing is just that, stupid, and fake, and utter bullshit.

  “Isn’t your wife going to care if you stay over?” I ask Brent.

  “She’ll understand, and she’s not here anyways. Susan is at home. Her mother has been having some health issues.”

  My mom has been having some health issues of her own for a while now, but she hates me because of what I did. She’s not exactly my favorite person either, because of the things she said in regards to what I did. I don’t want to think about that though, and I definitely don’t want to be alone if there is some lunatic roaming around the lot either.

  I nod to Brent. Maybe I don’t trust him, but I trust him more than whoever left me that letter.

  Kane stands with his hands shoved in his pockets, giving me this sad, puppy dog look. I shoo him out. I don’t want to deal with him right now.

  I’ve only got three days left, and one more show. I’ll be free of Kane, and I’ll get to go home. Of course I don’t have a real home. I mean, I have a few, but my home is off limits. My mother told me to never darken her door again after she found out what I did, and I haven’t.

  And I never will.

  While Brent chews someone out in a deep, authoritative tone over the phone, I make myself a drink. I hadn’t planned on drinking tonight. Lately I’ve been trying to fly a little straighter, keep my nose clean, and my head clear. It’s not too hard to do without Kane in my hair.

  My eyes drift over to those dead flowers peeking out the top of the garbage can. A few of the black petals lay on the floor. I finish my drink, and go to pick up those curled, black reminders.

  “Trin, relax. Let me get that,” Brent says. He takes the dead petals out of my hand and puts them in the garbage, then he ties the bag closed so we don’t have to look at it anymore. “Come sit down. You’re shaking.”

  Of course I’m shaking. That letter was creepy as hell, and whoever left it was inside my bus. They must have snuck in here during the show. I’m just lucky they decided to leave before I got back.

  Brent pours us both a drink. He sets his on the table, and angles himself to face me. “Trin, I’m going to take care of this. I won’t let that happen again.”

  “I’ve only got a few days left anyways.”

  He nods solemnly. “What about when you go home?” He rubs my shoulder. “We’ll get someone to stay with you. I can have the label cover it.”

  I shake my head, and take a big gulp. “I don’t want a stranger living with me.”

  “They won’t have to live with you, but just someone posted up outside the door, right?”

  My house up in the mountains that overlooks my old hometown has tons of security and a big gate. No one can get in there. “I’ll be fine.”

  “How’s your back? You looked kind of stiff earlier tonight.”

  I laugh under my breath. My back has never hurt me a day in my life, but that’s the story Brent gave the quack doctor who wrote me the prescription in the first place. At least that way I knew what I was getting, and my manager could manage how much I was taking.

  It’s one of those things we never speak about out in the open. It’s all winks and nudges. I’d say, “Brent, my back is killing me.” and he’d say, “Okay, doll. I’ll take care of you.” or “If it’s hurting that bad, maybe we better take you to a specialist.” It just depended on how much I was taking, and if he thought it was too much.

  “It’s hurting pretty bad right now,” I say in a low voice. I know I shouldn’t, but that lunatic was in my bus. I am never gonna be able to calm down unless I take something.

  I flushed the contents of the last bottle after that surprise meeting at Elements, which was a bit of a wakeup call. I don’t usually get that fucked up, and I definitely try and avoid causing a scene in public. It’s good Brent was there to handle matters. He kept it out of the papers at least, although it was his fault I was sitting in that restaurant to begin with.

  For three days straight I suffered shakes, chills, and a headache that made me want to smash my head in the door. I still made it to stage in Albuquerque, but the reverb they had to throw on my mic was unreal.

  Conner gave me a firm talking to after that show. I suppose he thought I was high off my ass, instead of achily, painfully sober. If I’d known he was screwing around on his wife at that point, I wouldn’t have stood there and took his shit.

  Brent makes the call. It’s late, but he already had my prescription filled, he explains. It’s back at his hotel, and one of his lackeyes will be happy to run it right out.

  Two drinks later, there’s a knock at the door, and Brent goes to answer it.

  He fiddles with his phone while I shake out one of the pills. After a second to consider, I shake out a second. As soon as this tour is over, I’m done with this shit. I’ve quit before, and I can do it again.

  Brent leans back and throws an arm over the back of the couch. “So, while I’m here, maybe we can talk.”

  “I’m not signing anything, Brent.”

  “Great, because I don’t have anything for you to sign.” He pauses to laugh. “You’re the one who called me, remember?”

  “What do you want to talk about?” I ask in a weary voice. If Kane heard that I was trying to break contract, then I know damn well Brent heard too.

  He opens his mouth to speak, but his phone rings. “Hold on, doll. It’s Sue. I need to take this.”

  Brent heaves himself up off the couch, and steps outside to chat with his wife. I’ve met her several times. She seems like a nice woman, but then again he seemed nice at first too.

  By the time he returns, I’m warm and fuzzy. Stretched out on the plush leather, I can barely remember what upset me so much in the first place. “How’s Suzie Q?” I ask.

  Brent lifts my feet, sinks down on the couch, and lays my calves across his knees. “She’s fine and dandy, and her mom is on the mend.”

  “What happened?”

  “She fell and broke her hip.”

  “That sucks.”

  “She’ll be okay. She has a live in nurse taking care of her. Sue is just there to hold her hand.”

  My mom has nurses in and out all the time too, but I’m sure as hell not going to go hold her hand. I doubt she’d even want me to.

  Brent is older, fiftyish maybe, and unlike a lot of these scumbags in the business, his wife is right about his same age. “How did you two meet?”

  “I’ve known her my whole life. We grew up together.”

  “Did you ever cheat on her?” I start to giggle, and move my legs. He probably thinks I’m making an offer, which I’m definitely not. Even if he wasn’t old enough to be my father, Brent kinda looks like Jabba the Hutt.

  He stares at me intently for a moment. “No way,” he says. “Sue is my one and only.”

  “That’s sweet.” I’m not sure if I believe him or not, but I guess I find the idea sweet.

  I fling an arm over my face. Brent pulls my feet back up on his lap by my ankles, and plucks off my shoes. “What’s going on with you and Kane?” he asks.

  “I hate him.”

  “Was he unfaithful?”

  I laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

  “Maybe I should have a talk with him,” Brent says.

  “I want to get rid of him. I hate him.”

  Brent sighs. “Is that really what you want?”

  “Yesss.”

  He sighs again. “We have to think about your next album, Trin. How we’re going to spin this. The image we want to project.”

  “I thought you wanted me to dump him, so I could pretend to be all heartbroken and shit for the next record.”

  “That was if we were going to Sony, which we’re definitely not now thanks to you.”

  I groan. “I don’t need another guilt trip.”

  Brent pats my ankle. “You’re right. No sense cryin’ over spilled milk.”

  I nod. That’s always
been my philosophy. What’s the point in crying over things you can’t change?

  “I want you to be happy, Trin. I want to see you smile again, and not just on stage. Tell me what you want. Anything you need, and I’ll make it happen.”

  I’m starting to think Brent heard I’ve been on the prowl for a new manager since his contract is almost up, although I’m not sure how. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. “I want to get rid of Kane. He’s an ass.”

  “Okay. Done. What else?”

  “I don’t want any more surprises. No more lunches with guys in suits.”

  “You’re right. That was uncalled for. If I knew you were feeling so wore out, I would’ve never made the offer. We can just take it one album at a time. How does that sound?”

  “I think this might be my last one.”

  “You’re still young, Trin, but… maybe a long break. You can come back with a bang a little down the road. We’ll do a whole revamp. A brand new sound and look.”

  “I’m not getting my boobs done.”

  Brent laughs. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”

  “Your friend did.”

  “They weren’t my friends, and I had no idea they were going to go there. What else do you want, Trin? Just say the word, and it’s yours.”

  “I don’t want to be out on the road this long again. I don’t want to live on a bus for nine months at a time.”

  I hear Brent swallow. “Okay. I’m sure we can come to some sort of mutual agreement. What else?”

  I want a normal life. I want something real. I want to go back and do everything different, but Brent can’t give me any of that. “I just want to go to sleep.”

  Chapter 5

  Trin

  I’ve been off the road for two weeks when Nolan comes buzzing at my gate. Without an assistant to keep me on track, I completely forgot we were supposed to meet. Two fucking weeks, that’s all I get before I’m supposed to sit down and write new songs.

  Maybe I could do with someone to handle day to day crap, but having paid help around sucks. After months with all those eyes on me, all those people in and out of my tour bus, I just want some quiet and solitude. I want to get off this shit again too, but for some reason that’s proving harder to do than last time.