Fatal Temptations (Fatal Cross Live! Book 2) Page 5

  I ordered and sat back, listening to everyone chat about anything and everything. I laughed when appropriate, but my mind was elsewhere. In fact, my mind was right across the table. Ace was currently laughing at something Garrison had said about Drake, but I didn’t catch what the joke was all about. I was too busy watching his face light up with happiness. I contained a sigh when his eyes landed on my own. For a moment, it was like when he watched me from the stage. There was no one else in the room…just us. There was a connection there…I could feel it.

  “Presley?” Brian called out from my left side. He had to nudge me to get my attention.

  “Yeah?” I blushed, knowing that everyone had seen the way Ace and I had been locked in a heated stare. When my eyes fell on Garrison, he was smiling warmly. He nodded toward Brian, urging me to pay attention.

  “I was saying that I’ve taken care of Ginger’s tickets and passes for tomorrow night,” he repeated.

  “Oh, thank you.” I smiled, glancing at my aunt. She was leaning back in her chair, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. She gave me a wink and turned toward Ace, asking him questions about their latest album. I smiled and grabbed a French fry off of my plate, popping it in my mouth to keep from laughing at her obvious infatuation with the lead singer of Fatal Cross. I really couldn’t blame her, because he just had that effect on people.

  Lunch passed smoothly. Ginger asked a million questions about our tour, and by the time we arrived back at her little shop, I think she’d completely fallen in love with Ace. He was very polite and respectful toward the only family member I truly loved and who loved me unconditionally.

  Ginger promised him that she’d be at the venue the next night and we left after I grabbed my bags. She’d made me promise to drink a cup of her special tea every night before I performed, assuring it would keep my voice at its best.

  “Your aunt is amazing,” Ace said, catching up to me as we walked back toward the venue. He’d pulled his hair back into a bun about halfway through lunch. I’d had to look away when his arms flexed with the action. The sight was rather distracting.

  “Yes, she is,” I beamed.

  As we approached the light, Ace’s hand shot out and wrapped around my wrist, pulling me back against his chest. A group of teenagers raced by with no care in the world as to who they plowed over in their quest to get wherever the hell it was they were going.

  “Thanks,” I said, looking to see if the street was clear.

  Everyone parted ways as we returned to the venue. The place was closed and we had the back lot to ourselves, along with one guy that hung out as security. I pulled out my phone and checked messages I’d been ignoring, hoping none of them were from home. Thankfully, my phone was pretty silent, except for a few emails saying I’d won millions of dollars from a long lost relative in a foreign land I’d never even heard of.

  The sky was clear, but the wind had picked up out of the north on our walk back. I shivered when the cold air hit my exposed arms. Before I could turn for the bus, a jacket was draped over my shoulders. I suppressed a moan when Ace’s warm fingers grazed my neck.

  “The weather’s changing.” Ace observed, stepping back from my side.

  “It is,” I agreed.

  “We’re about to watch a movie,” he began, his eyes sparkling with the late afternoon light. “Would you like to come up on the bus with us?”

  “Sure.” I cleared my throat. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

  Their bus was very similar to ours. The only difference was that in the back of their bus there was a huge entertainment area, whereas ours was used for storage. A black leather wrap around couch took up the back and side walls, making the shape of a U. To the right of the doorway was a television that took up most of the space. On the left side of the door was a bookcase that housed all of the satellite and surround sound systems that were installed on the bus. There was a small wet bar that held no alcohol. There was a tray of fresh fruit sitting there uncovered next to a sink that was filled with bottled waters submerged in ice.

  “Pick a seat,” Ace said, grabbing the remote and plopping himself into one corner of the couch.

  I sat to his right, crossing my legs and tucking my feet up underneath so that I could lean back and relax. I leaned forward and removed Ace’s zip up hoodie and draped it across my lap. I had to take the thing off because it smelled of him and it made me want to crawl inside of it and die. It was the perfect mix of man and whatever scent he used for cologne. It wasn’t overpowering. It was just…Ace.

  Everyone gathered in the back of the bus, and soon all the voices calmed once Ace started the movie. It was the latest action flick to come out and all of the guys were pumped once the movie began. I looked over at Coraline to gauge her reaction to being one of the only two girls stuck watching this movie. It didn’t matter, because she’d already fallen asleep against Taylor’s massive chest.

  I really didn’t pay much attention to what was happening on the screen. My mind wandered to music like it always did. The movie soundtrack caused words to spiral through my head. I was inspired, grabbing my phone and pulling up an app I used to write music. No one noticed my frantic typing. Ace glanced over a few times, but didn’t say anything to distract me. I was grateful for that.

  As I thought of lyrics, writing them as fast as the ideas came to my head, I tuned out all of the noise around me. Darkness invaded my peripheral and I became one with what I was creating. Words about love and loss became phrases that could, and hopefully would, become music. I could hear the wail of Drake’s guitar. Maybe an acoustic version…slowing it down a bit?

  “Presley?”

  All of the excitement of a first kiss, the feel of two bodies sliding together as one, and the heat from a fast romp in the back of a souped-up sports car.

  I opened a blank page and kept typing. A girl who was trying to escape her past, begging for the freedom she so desperately craved.

  “Presley?” Ace called out again, placing a hand on my knee.

  “Huh?” I jerked, looking around at the empty room.

  “I didn’t want to bother you, but the movie is over,” he said, nodding toward my phone.

  “Oh, sorry.” I laughed, holding my phone up and giving it a little shake. “I was writing.”

  “It’s okay,” he chuckled. “I do the same thing. Hey, would you like to go into the Quarter and grab some dinner?”

  “Um, sure,” I replied, realizing I’d leaned into his side while I was a million miles away. At no time did he move his hand off of my knee. His warmth seeped into my skin, along with something I couldn’t name. Whatever it was, it was electric. Like pulses of awareness that caused my lower belly to ache with something I wasn’t ready to admit…not even to myself.

  “Come,” he ordered softly, holding out his hand to help me from my seat. I slid my fingers across his palm and felt the tingles again. He released me all too soon and walked away with a smile.

  I followed Ace off of his bus, stopping when I found my guys all on their phones, probably calling family. Brian and his wife were expecting their first child in about six months. I was sure he would be on the phone for a while yet.

  Braxton, the drummer for Fatal Cross, was sitting in a lawn chair writing something in a worn, leather notebook. Taylor and Coraline were nowhere to be found. He watched me for a moment, but once he glanced at Ace, he resumed whatever it was that he was doing in his journal.

  “Cash and Garrison took off to some club,” he announced. “Looks like it’ll just be us for dinner.”

  “Okay.” I shivered, hoping he didn’t notice. The thought of going anywhere alone with Ace Ryker caused little bumps of excitement to raise on my skin.

  We found another little local spot over in the quieter area of the Quarter, keeping as far away from Bourbon Street as we could. A lady with beautiful mocha skin met us at the door. Her hair was braided and pulled in a thick ponytail at the back of her head.

  “This good? Yes?” she asked in broken
English as she showed us to our table.

  “It’s fine, thank you.” Ace nodded at her, pulling my chair out so that I could take a seat.

  Once she took our drink order, the waitress left us alone. The tiny restaurant was beautifully decorated in traditional New Orleans style. There were windows to my back that looked out on a beautiful patio that had tropical plants placed around concrete statues that must’ve been there for many years. The lighting inside was set low; a small votive candle flickered softly in a red glass holder on the table.

  “Did you come up with anything good?” Ace asked, taking a sip of his water as soon as the woman set it on the table. She left us to chat after jotting down our order on a slim notepad she carried around in her apron pocket.

  “Yeah.” I shrugged, scrunching my nose. “Maybe.”

  “May I take a look?” he asked, holding out his hand. I slipped my phone out of my pocket and found my app, opening it to the words I’d written while everyone watched the movie.

  “This is good.” He hummed, making music in his head.

  When Ace Ryker started to softly sing the words I’d written, I felt myself melting into my chair. His voice brought to life the words I had written…my words. I was in awe of his talent before, but hearing my words fall from his lips was one of the best feelings in the world.

  You looked inside to find my emotions locked away.

  How many times must I cry for you to see?

  The actions of my past are not a part of me.

  Please help me escape from this pain I’m living in.

  His eyes darkened as his gaze traced my face, looking for something. There was a fire in those green depths, staring deep…so deep I felt it all the way to my bones.

  “Who hurt you, Presley?” he demanded, teeth gritting. His strong jaw ticked, waiting for my answer.

  I gasped as his hand reached across the table, folding his warmth around my fingers that had suddenly grown cold. His touch shot through my body like a bolt of lightning flashing across a darkened sky.

  “Tell me,” he urged.

  I was saved when the woman arrived with our food, giving me a few more seconds to come up with something…anything to keep from telling Ace the truth.

  Chapter 6

  Ace

  “No one hurt me,” she said, looking down at her plate of food. Presley was also lying through her perfect teeth.

  “You don’t have to tell me.” I sighed, giving her a chance to feel as if she had a way out of telling me. I didn’t want her to feel cornered, but I wanted to know the truth. I needed to know she was not in any immediate danger. “I just want to make sure that you are safe. If it’s someone I know…”

  “I said, I’m fine,” she snapped, narrowing her eyes. The fire in her gaze was enough to give me pause, but I wasn’t one for honoring limits when it came to someone’s safety.

  “I don’t believe you,” I replied, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms over my chest. “Where did that scar come from?”

  “Which scar?” she asked, her eyes as wide as half dollars.

  “Which one?” I gasped. “You have more than one?” I felt myself go rigid in my seat. She quickly realized she’d just let a secret out and I could tell she was trying to come up with something to say to me to keep me off her back. Little did she know, I could spot abuse a mile away, and Presley Pittman had been abused at some point in her life. It wasn’t a matter of me getting answers…because I already knew.

  “No,” she lied, shaking her head. “Just…just the one on my lip.”

  “Yes, the one on your lip,” I growled, leaning forward. “Presley, don’t lie to me. Where else?”

  “I’m not lying to you,” she whispered, looking away. I noticed her hands trembling and I reached across the table to take one into my own, rubbing the back of her knuckles with my thumb.

  It all made sense now. Her band hovered around her constantly. At first, I thought she was a diva, spoiled by the men in her life, but now I knew. It didn’t take much to see that she’d been hurt at one point and she had a scar to prove it…possibly more scars than she was willing to admit.

  “I’m going to tell you a story,” I began, hoping that I could get through to her. “A childhood friend from school, she was two years younger than myself. She was beautiful; long blonde hair, big blue eyes, and smart. She started dating a guy in college. He gave her the world and they were well on their way to getting married. I’d never seen her so happy. She was going to school in Oregon to be a doctor.

  “We ended up doing a show in Portland one winter, right before Christmas. She was so excited to come see us play and she’d invited several of her friends. The show began and I still hadn’t heard from her. I’d texted and called her several times, only for it to go unanswered. After the show, a girl introduced herself as Ella’s friend. She said that they came, but couldn’t get in touch with my friend the entire evening.” I paused, squinting my eyes to try to dislodge the pictures from my mind.

  “Ace?” Presley whispered, reaching for my hand. I must’ve been quiet for too long, because she looked worried, as well she should. My story could only get worse.

  “I found her,” I choked out, clearing my throat. “He’d beaten her so badly that I didn’t recognize her. She was barely alive. It was horrible, so horrible. She died an hour after she arrived at the hospital.”

  “Oh my God,” Presley gasped. Looking up, she was covering her mouth. Pools of tears gathered in her eyes, spilling over when she blinked.

  “I’m telling you this because I paid attention during the trial. I learned a lot about domestic violence and the signs. You don’t have to tell me anything, but I just want to know if you are safe now.” I prayed that no one in her band had anything to do with the scar on her lip. If one of them was responsible, I would lose my mind. I couldn’t handle seeing a woman hurt, no matter what kind of player I’d been over the years. I’d never lay a hand on a woman…ever.

  “I’m the safest I’ve ever been, Ace,” she promised. I knew she wasn’t lying when she smiled warmly and raised her chin proudly.

  “Good, babe…that’s what I was hoping to hear,” I said, ending my demands, but I was still curious. I wanted to know who put that scar on her lip and the defeat in her eyes. “Eat, your food is getting cold.”

  Presley nodded and we both grew silent as we ate our meal.

  I tried my hardest not to watch her while she ate, but I was failing miserably. The woman was refined…sophisticated almost, in the way she carried herself. She was always so put together, acting like she had just stepped out of an old timey finishing school. She had a sense of regality in everything she did. You wouldn’t expect it from the lead singer of a rock band.

  “Let’s go for a walk in the Quarter,” I suggested, laying my napkin across my empty plate. Her eyes sparked with mischief at my statement.

  “I’d love that.” She smiled, standing up after I’d done the same. I held out my hand and she took it as we left the restaurant.

  Making a left, we followed the sounds of Zydeco music that was so popular in the city. Several groups of people stumbled past us as we slowly made our way toward Bourbon Street.

  “I love it here,” she sighed, looking around. I was mesmerized watching her smile as her eyes scanned the buildings, the crowd, and the lights.

  “It’s very mystical,” I replied, moving out of the way of a man walking his dog. The dog was dressed up in a pirate’s costume.

  “They have ghost and vampire tours.” She laughed, tilting her head back to look up at the old buildings we passed. “The history here is so rich and the people love their little slice of heaven.”

  “Have you ever lived here?” I asked. We paused at a corner, waiting for a taxi to make a turn. She didn’t answer me until we had crossed over to another street. I really didn’t have any sense of direction in this place, but Presley seemed to know exactly where she was going.

  “I stayed with Auntie G for about two mont
hs,” she finally answered. “I played my guitar for the tourists for extra money.”

  “Really?” I asked, shocked at her confession.

  “Between gigs,” she replied. “I made decent money, and it was enough to help me out when things were bad.”

  “Would you ever move back here?” I continued with my questions. It wasn’t very often Presley Pittman offered any background into her life. She usually kept to herself and didn’t talk much.

  “If I was ever able to afford it,” she said, nodding toward a sign advertising an apartment for rent. “The cost of a tiny studio apartment would set you back a load of money.”

  “I’ve only been here a few times,” I said, thinking back to a darker time in my life. “We partied here, but I don’t remember much else.”

  “Maybe we should head back.” She frowned, slowing her pace. She stopped altogether, pulling me to the side so a group of college students could pass. “I’m sorry, Ace. I wasn’t thinking. This can’t be easy for you.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m okay to come here.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  “I’m having a great time just being with you, Presley,” I admitted, pulling her hand up to my lips. I pressed a kiss to the back of her knuckles, releasing her hand when she stiffened. The last thing I wanted to do was to make her uncomfortable. “Show me around some more?”

  “Okay,” she replied. I let her take me down another road, but didn’t comment when we crossed over the infamous Bourbon Street.

  We walked for several minutes before we turned a corner and came upon a large church. She explained that it was one of the most beautiful places in the Quarter, but of course, it was closed due to the late hour. Across a cobblestone street, an area was cordoned off by a tall iron gate. Beyond the gate was a small park.

  “Jackson Square is where all of the artists come to sell their masterpieces,” she informed me, her eyes scanning the several merchants that were set up along the gate. The paintings were brightly colored and each one special to this area.