Jem’s face reddens and he sweeps a gaze over me. “He did what? Fucking hell, Ruby, call the fucking police!”
“Dan didn’t succeed and he won’t get the chance to try again.” I finish the drink, forcing the hot coffee down so I can get out of the room. “Maybe it’s a good thing Dan did this.”
Jem’s mouth parts. “You’re fucked up! It’s a good thing a guy tried to rape you?”
“Yes! He finally stepped far enough over the line. I have the strength to walk away.”
Coffee sloshes from a cup as Jem crashes his onto the counter and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him. I stand in the kitchen, and let go of the control I’ve held onto by my fingernails. Just a few words to Jem about what Dan almost did unlocks everything, as the fear shakes through my exhausted body. Tears spill and I bite hard on my injured lip, the familiar metallic taste of blood on my tongue intensifying the memory.
“If you fucking think—” Jem reappears through the door then halts as he catches sight of me.
I spin around to face the sink before he sees any more and rub my face on my shoulder.
Jem mutters expletives under his breath and I wrap my arms around myself, holding in the need to keep crying, willing him to leave.
I’m unsure whether Jem left, until he speaks again. “I understand you don’t want another guy trying to control your next move, but stay here. Do your own thing until you get your head together; I’ll leave you alone.” There’s a clatter as keys hit a table. “I’ll give you the alarm code.”
I don’t need to turn to know Jem’s behind me, hairs on my neck standing up at the awareness of his presence. He’s close enough to touch and I tense, but another part wants to sink back, allow Jem to hold me and tell me things will be okay. The stupid, trusting part of me that screws my life up.
“I’ll back off, but if you go back to Dan, I’m cutting my ties with Ruby Riot,” he says quietly.
I hold my breath until the door closes again. Smart guy. Jem knows he can’t push me into anything, so he goes for my Achilles heel. The one thing that’s kept me going for the last year; the dream I’ve kept alive in the midst of the nightmare: success for the band.
If I screwed that up, I don’t know where I’d go, or what I’d do.
* * *
Placingmy bag on the floor, I catch sight of a note on the kitchen counter. Scrawled in black marker pen is a list:
No drugs
No alcohol
Don’t ever wake me up
Don’t touch my stuff
With amusement, I read the list several times. I guess this is Jem Jones’s equivalent of a housemate agreement.
Is that what I am? What is this situation? Once we figured out Dan was working, Jax took me to grab some stuff from Dan’s place. Tucked in the holdall is my black tin, the savings for my escape plan. I’m going to need it sooner than I expected. I count and I have enough to see me through the weeks where I can’t work due to the tour. Then after the tour, I can look for a place to live. I almost have enough for a deposit on a room.
Jem suggests I stay for a couple of weeks until Ruby Riot goes on tour, so I can take time to get my head together. His behaviour is weird and the niggling feeling Jem wants something worries me. The idea Dan could find me at the guys’ place is a bigger worry, so I accept Jem’s offer and settle into the spare room he gave me last night. There’s dust on the drawers and the place looks untouched. I guess Jem doesn’t have regular guests. The wardrobe is empty and I don’t bother hanging anything up, dumping my holdall on the floor instead.
When I head back into the living area, I spot Jem sitting on a stool in the kitchen, flicking through his phone.
“Hey,” he says, barely glancing at me.
I attempt to take in the sight of bad boy Jem Jones tucking into something the opposite of his old image.
“You’re eating yoghurt,” I say.
“Yeah? Why? Did you want some?”
I giggle. “Jem Jones eating yoghurt.”
He slams the pot on the counter. “Why is that fucking funny?”
Okay, so the temper is still there. “Sorry, it’s just strange.”