The Rocker Who Betrays Me (The Rocker 11) - Page 14

A million things had been filling my head. That he had lost his phone had been my first thought. Quickly followed by him regretting spending that last night with me, and wanting nothing to do with me now. And the worst… That he’d gone from my bed straight into someone else’s and wasn’t about to look back. That last one made me hurt to the point that I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know what to do because I had no clue why I hadn’t heard from him. If he’d lost his phone, then he probably didn’t even realize that I had called. But if he’d been ignoring my calls, I didn’t want to keep knocking on a door that he wanted to keep closed.

A firm hand touched my shoulder and I jerked, not expecting the touch. Noah’s hold on my shoulder tightened. “Easy, honey. It’s just me.” He smiled down at me, but I could see the concern deep in his blue eyes. “Ben asked three times if you wanted something to eat and you didn’t hear him.”

I forced a smile to my lips as I looked over at Chelsea’s dad. “Thanks, Ben, but I’m not hungry.”

Ben smiled back. “Well, I’m going to order a few pizzas, sweetheart. So you can eat later if you feel like it.”

I nodded, but knew I wouldn’t be eating. Food held no appeal for me, it hadn’t practically from the moment I’d waved goodbye to Zander from the front door of the apartment in West Bridge. I only ate when Noah made me, and only then forcing it down through a throat that had been tight with tears for the past three weeks.

It took over three hours before I had my room unpacked. When I was done I took a shower to wash away the dust of the move and grabbed the keys I’d left on my dresser. I didn’t know why Zander had left me his truck and then acted like I didn’t exist, but I was glad to have the trusty old piece of metal.

Noah, Chelsea and Ben were in the kitchen eating the pizza Ben had ordered earlier, so I called a quick bye to them before rushing out the door. Our apartment was on the second floor so I ran down the stairs before anyone could ask where I was going. Starting the truck, I put it in gear and headed out of the city.

I’d been arguing with myself for the past two weeks about whether or not I should go see Gram, but I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe if I didn’t. I didn’t know if it was because I wanted to know if she’d heard from her grandson or if I just needed one of her hugs, but I had to see her. All the way to West Bridge I had to fight my tears, sometimes losing the battle.

With my hands on the wheel, I couldn’t help but glance at the little gold ring Zander had put on my finger. A promise, he’d said. That ring was a promise that it looked like he’d already broken. Yet as upset as I was, I couldn’t find the strength to take it off. It hadn’t left my finger since he’d put it on there.

I had to drive past the garage to get to Gram’s house. It was closed today, but it would reopen on Monday. Chelsea and Noah were going to drive down every day to keep it running, but we’d been talking about just selling it and banking the money in case of an emergency. After talking to Wade, and finding out he was ready to retire anyway, we hadn’t felt as guilty about selling it and possibly leaving him without a job. Still, it was the last connection we had to our father, and I was just as reluctant as Noah to let it go.

Pulling into the driveway of Gram’s house, I could smell whatever she’d made for dinner still lingering in the air. For the first time in weeks my stomach growled and I jumped out of the truck. As I walked toward the back door, I couldn’t help but glance over at my mother’s house. The yard needed mowing and Jacob’s car wasn’t in the driveway, making me wonder if she’d kicked him out.

I had no way of knowing because neither Noah nor I had heard so much as a word from our mother. It seemed like she was completely happy to have us both out of her life. Oddly enough, the thought of my mother practically abandoning me didn’t hurt anywhere near as bad as Zander possibly having done the same.

Chin trembling from that thought, I knocked on the back door and waited for Gram to answer it. The door opened less than a minute later and Gram stood on the other side, wiping her hands on her apron and smiling welcomingly at me.

“Annabelle,” she greeted, with so much warmth in her voice that some of the ice around my heart thawed slightly. “Honey, it’s so good to see your pretty face. Come in, come in.” Taking my hands she pulled me into her kitchen, her eyes skimming over me with a maternal eye. “You’ve lost weight, honey.”

I bit my lip, nodding. “Yes, ma’am. Just a little.”

She released my hand and went to the fridge, pulling out containers of leftovers. “Well, you sit down. I’m going to feed you and I best not hear any complaining. She took the containers to the stove and started heating up whatever she’d cooked for dinner. From the living room I could hear the television and Gramps coughing every now and then. “I still haven’t learned how to cook for just me and Zander’s grandfather. I keep thinking Zander will walk through the door and I need to fix enough for his bottomless stomach.”

Her voice was so full of sadness that my chin trembled even more. “Ha-have you heard from him?” I asked as I sat at the table.

Without turning to face me, Gram nodded. “He calls every few nights on that cellphone of his. Makes sure I have enough blood pressure medicine and everything else. He’s a good boy, my Zander. Always taking care of his grandma.”

I had to swallow my sob. So he hadn’t lost his cellphone. Blinking back tears, I sat there, trying to smile for Gram when she glanced at me over her shoulder every few minutes. When the food was heated up she put it all on a plate and set it in front of me with a glass of juice. “Now, you eat all of that and I’ll get you a slice of pie I managed to save earlier.”

My fingers shook as I lifted my fork, but I clenched them around the utensil so Gram wouldn’t see. Somehow I ate half the food she’d put in front of me, but I didn’t taste any of it. My stomach roiled, protesting the food, but I didn’t let Gram know that I was so close to being sick. While I’d eaten she’d gone on and on about how Zander was doing.

From what she told me, the band had an apartment in West Hollywood that they were sharing. They’d already made a recording of some of their songs and three record labels wanted to sign them. Rich Branson was holding off for a little longer before accepting any of them because he wanted to squeeze as much money out of the label as possible. Branson had advanced them some money and Zander had already mailed her a check so that she could get her next month’s worth of medication.

I’d been happy to shovel food into my mouth as Gram had talked. It meant I didn’t have to keep up with the conversation. I could see how proud of her grandson she was, could hear it in her voice as she spoke so lovingly of him. I knew what a good guy Zander was, she didn’t have to tell me that. What I couldn’t understand was why he hadn’t wanted to talk to me.

I didn’t eat everything on the plate, but Gram still offered me a slice of pie. Unable to eat another bite without throwing up what I’d already eaten, I declined her offer and quickly made my goodbyes. The little old lady hugged me close and kissed my cheek as I stepped back. “You come back and see me anytime, Annabelle. You promise me.”

I smiled through my tears. “Yes, Gram. I promise.” I kissed her wrinkled cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”

All the way back to Nashville, I let myself cry, not caring when the sobs felt like they were tearing my heart loose from my chest cavity. I wanted to get it out of my system before I saw my brother again. I didn’t understand what had happened, why he didn’t want me anymore, and maybe that was why it hurt so much. The not knowing why was killing me.

Pulling into the apartment complex’s parking lot, I slid into the space that was reserved for our apartment and grabbed the cellphone I’d left on the seat while I’d been at Gram’s. Wiping away the last of the tears I’d let myself cry on the drive up, I punched in the number I knew by heart now. Lifting the phone to my ear, I waited for him to answer.

“You have reached—”

Hearing the automatic voicemail, I turned the phone off and threw it on the floor

. “Why, Z? Why?” I whispered to the empty truck cab. “Why did you break your promise already?”

Zander

“Yo, Z. Your phone is ringing again, man.”

I lifted my gaze from where I’d been watching my fingers strum the strings on my bass to frown at Axton. He had my phone in his hand and he tossed it to me. Catching it with ease, I glanced down at the little screen, my stomach clenching as I prayed it wasn’t Annabelle again. I didn’t think I had the strength to ignore yet another call from her.

Seeing that it was my grandmother, I opened the little flip phone and put it to my ear. “Hey, Gram.”

“Merry Christmas, Zander, honey,” Gram greeted me happily.

I’d hated disappointing her when I’d told her the month before that I wouldn’t be able to make it home for Christmas. She’d understood, though. I had work to do in California, after all. We were still recording our first album and the process was taking a lot longer than anyone had first thought.

“Merry Christmas, Gram. How are you and Gramps feeling?” The last time I’d talked to her she’d had a dizzy spell and Gramps was fighting a bad case of flu.

“We’re good, honey. How are you and the boys? Are you eating enough?” Her concern for not only me but my band members as well made my chest tighten.

“Everyone is doing good, Gram.” My fingers started strumming over the strings on the bass again, unconsciously playing a Christmas song.

Everyone except me. I didn’t say that aloud, though. No use in making Gram worry. I hadn’t been okay since the day I’d left Tennessee, and from the way my head had yet to calm down, I knew I wasn’t likely to be ever okay again.

“That’s good, honey…” She paused and I knew there was a reason she’d called other than wanting to tell me Merry Christmas. It didn’t surprise me because Gram rarely called me using the cellphone I’d given her. She didn’t understand the damn thing, couldn’t see the numbers very well because she refused to wear her glasses, more often than not. “Annabelle came to see me this morning.”

Everything inside of me jerked as if I’d been electrocuted from the mention of her name. My fingers fumbled over the strings of the bass until I forced myself to stop and I leaned back in the chair I’d been parked in all morning, closing my eyes as pain exploded inside of me.

I thought I was handling being without her. As long as no one mentioned her name, I was able to keep my head on straight—straight enough to make it through the day at least. Her calls had been few and far between lately, something I was both thankful for and hated. She’d called at least three times a day in the beginning, but in the last few weeks she hadn’t called at all. Until the night before. I’d been lying in bed when the phone had rung and it had taken everything inside of me not to pick it up. To just hear her voice one more time.

I hadn’t let myself listen to the voicemails she’d left. Had made Devlin delete them for me because the temptation to hear her beautiful voice would have been too hard to resist if I’d been the one to do it. I didn’t want to know if she was crying or cussing, if she still loved me or hated my guts. It was safer not knowing. I could pretend when I didn’t know for sure. Gram hadn’t said anything about her to me and I hadn’t asked her if she’d heard anything from Annabelle or Noah.

It was better not to know what was going on with them. With her. She was better off…

“Oh yeah?” I tried to keep my tone even and I was proud of myself when my voice didn’t crack with all the emotion choking my throat.

“Yes. She’s been coming to visit every few weeks, but I hadn’t seen her in a while. I guess now that the garage has been sold she can’t make it down as often. She drove your truck down from Nashville. Brought me a box of those chocolate-cover cherries she knows I like so much and gave Gramps a tin can of that popcorn he loves.” Gram went on and on for a few minutes, telling me what a good girl Annabelle was and how she had missed her since she’d moved to Nashville.

“Anyway, she mentioned that she was trying to reach you, honey. She’s lost some weight, says she’s been fighting the flu like Gramps was. Poor thing didn’t look well at all.”

Concern for Annabelle made the ache in my chest throb. When I didn’t say anything, however, Gram let out a small sigh. “I didn’t know that you hadn’t spoken to her since you’d left, Zander. I thought you two were talking as much as we were?”

I clenched my jaw. “No.”

“Oh… Well, anyway, she wanted me to tell you that it was important that she talked to you. I even gave her your address so she could send you a letter, because she says she knows you probably don’t want to talk to her.” Gram’s voice became the one I remembered so well as a kid. The one she used when she was done playing games and wanted real answers. “Did you do something you shouldn’t, Zander Brockman?”

Another shot of pain sliced through my body. I wasn’t going to go down that road with my grandmother. It would probably break her heart to hear that I’d been doing a lot of things I shouldn’t lately. “She’s better off without me, Gram. I knew that before I left, I just tried to convince myself otherwise.”

“Ah, honey. You know that isn’t true. You and Annabelle have something special. Don’t throw that away because you’re doubting yourself.” Gram’s soft scolding made tears prick at my eyes.

“Gram…” I broke off, not knowing what to say to that. She didn’t know what I’d been doing since I’d left Tennessee, and I hoped to God she never did. She had no idea just how far I’d fallen.

“Okay, honey, okay. I’m not going to put my nose in your business. I know that you’re a grown man now. I just promised Annabelle that I’d pass along her message. Even if you don’t get your head out of your ass, she’s still going to send you a letter. Do yourself a favor and at least read it.”

“Yeah, Gram.” There was no way in hell I was going to read it.

“I love you, honey. Merry Christmas.”

“I love you, too.”

She hung up and I glared down at the silent phone in my hand.

“Gram okay?”

I didn’t bother to lift my head as Devlin dropped down onto the long couch in our living room. We all lived in the five-bedroom apartment owned by Rich Branson. Apparently he put all his new talent up for the first year as part of their contract. The place was huge and must have been costing the dude out the ass to rent for us, but I wasn’t going to complain. It kept a roof over my head while I sat around doing nothing on the days we weren’t in the studio recording.

“Yeah.”

“How about Gramps?” Devlin drummed his fingers on the leather couch’s arm.

“He’s fine.” Go the fuck away. Leave me alone.

“Uh-huh,” Devlin muttered. He was quiet for a while, but I could feel his eyes on me, watching me carefully. He’d been doing a lot of that lately. I didn’t blame him. If I were him I’d be watching the crazy dude a little closer too.

I’d had a lot of plans when I stepped on that damn tour bus all those weeks ago. I would go off to California and chase my dreams. When I got to a place where I could take care of Annabelle, I’d bring her out to be with me. We could have a happily-ever-after like she deserved.

The first two days I’d avoided my phone when she had called because it had hurt too much to be without her. It had taken us a week to get from Tennessee to California since Rich had offered us a real rock-star experience. We were playing at Hard Rock and other huge bars across the country and staying in the penthouses of stupidly expensive hotels.

I’d been diving into any bottle of liquor I could get my hands on, and—trust me—there had been plenty for me to drink. I wasn’t sure I was sober at all that entire week. My pain was easier to deal with when I was drinking. My heart didn’t ache nearly as bad for the girl I’d left behind when I was halfway through a bottle of expensive bourbon. I was numb and I liked that sensation.

Being in a constant numb state had its consequences, though. I’d found that out by the end of tha

t week. I’d done things I couldn’t take back. Things that still haunted me. Things that had proven to me just how undeserving I truly was of Annabelle.

I hadn’t had anything harder than a beer since and I sure as hell hadn’t messed up like that again. My head, however, was still a mess. It was like a fucking hurricane in there, tossing shit at me at a hundred miles an hour and sometimes it became too much.

Which was why Devlin—and everyone else—walked on eggshells around me. It didn’t take much to set me off. The simplest things would send me over the edge into the abyss of craziness that left only destruction in my wake. I’d trashed hotel rooms that week and since then destroyed our apartment more than once. I’d started fights I knew I couldn’t win—yet somehow had. My fucked-up head was pushing me toward the edge of insanity and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to fight it anymore.

Hell, I’d even been so desperate for my end to come that I’d punched Wroth. He hadn’t obliged me. Wroth kept an eye on me, though—they all did. No one understood, though. They didn’t know what I was going through. Not even Devlin, whom I’d been friends with since we were little kids, could get what I was going through. He’d never gotten me. No one had except for Annabelle.

How long I sat there staring down at the damn phone, I wasn’t sure, but the sky was getting darker outside when it started to ring again. I jerked when I saw the number on the screen. Annabelle.

The air in my lungs turned to ice, making it hard to breathe. I closed my eyes, hurting like I’d never hurt before, and hurled the damn cellphone across the room. It exploded into a hundred pieces against the opposite wall.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Annabelle

Present Day

I just wanted to go home.

It had been over a month since I’d seen my brother and sister-in-law. Even longer since I’d seen Audrey, Ben, and Mieke. I was homesick, but not for my house or my own bed. I was homesick for my family. From the looks of it, I wasn’t going to get to go home anytime soon for even a brief visit.

Tags: Terri Anne Browning The Rocker
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