The Rockstar's Secret Weakness Page 7

  The rain had stopped for a couple of days, and the roads were dry. The leaves hadn’t quite started fallen yet, but they would soon, and then Forbidden Lake would look like God himself had set the town on fire.

  Declan loved the leaves. Loved the way the branches looked in the winter when fresh snow fell. Forbidden Lake definitely had charm that nowhere else did, and he’d been all over the world.

  He called Forbidden Lake a sleeper town, because the streets were generally empty by eight o’clock. And by ten, as he rode his bike down the street and turned left, it was downright silent. Dark. Beautiful, with all those stars hung in the heavens.

  Declan breathed in the silence, knowing where to go if he wanted action in the middle of the night. But he didn’t go to Maverick’s biker bar for a lot of reasons, one being that he liked thinking of his friend in his purest form. And that wasn’t as the leader of the motorcycle club in this sleepy lakeside town.

  He wanted Mia to think of him in his purest form too, and that wasn’t as an international rockstar who made women swoon when he walked on stage. He was a man first, and he thought he’d done a good job at making a good life for himself, his sister until she’d died, and his half-brother. Even his mother was in much better circumstances than she had been fifteen years ago, and that wouldn’t have been possible without the rockstar Declan had become.

  The highway out to Sunshine Shores Resort and Orchards gleamed like a black satin ribbon under the moonlight. Declan felt invincible as he slowed and cut the engine a good half-mile from the stop sign where he’d turn right to meet Mia at the end of her family’s lane.

  He walked the rest of the way, pushing the bike, and happiness leapt through him to see a very female figure walking toward him.

  “Mia.” He balanced the bike and left it on the side of the road, jogging toward her. She held out her arms, and he heard her sob as he closed the last few steps to her. “Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, holding her close against him.

  They stood on the side of the road together for a few moments, long enough for her to quiet.

  He smoothed her hair back and said, “My bike’s just down there.”

  She pressed her lips together and shook her head in short bursts. “I can’t see you anymore.”

  The breath left his body. He hadn’t been expecting her to say that at all.

  Chapter Eleven

  “What?” Declan asked, the confusion evident on his handsome face. “Why not?”

  “I just can’t.” She couldn’t tell him how complicated things had gotten. He deserved to be with someone who could focus on him and love him, and Mia couldn’t do that. Not right now, and maybe not ever.

  “I sent too much food,” he said.

  “No,” she said. “Phoenix and Jon have been making stuff up about where it’s been coming from.”

  “So everyone knows about us,” he said.

  “Everyone except my parents,” she said. “Yes. And I hate lying to them.”

  “Have you lied?”

  Mia hadn’t, not really. She had been with a client when Derrick had died. “I suppose not. But I’m sneaking around out here in the dark when I should be with my sister.”

  “Karly is thirty-eight-years-old,” Declan said. “And she wants you to be happy.”

  Mia didn’t appreciate the bite in his voice, or the condescending way he talked about her happiness. What did he know about what it took to make her happy?

  “I just think we need to take another break.”

  “I can’t do that,” he said. “I feel like if you walk away from me now, I’ll never get you back.”

  Mia turned away from him, so confused and oscillating between one option and the next every three seconds.

  “What do you want, Mia?” he asked, his voice that same, deathly quiet one he’d used when he’d asked her what she wanted him to do that fateful night her father had talked to him.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  She spun back toward him, feeling out of control. Wild. Caged. “You,” she said. “I want you.”

  “You have me,” he said. “Why are you trying to push me away?”

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  “Yes, you do,” he said again, and she wished she had laser vision so she could glare his face off.

  “Both of my siblings who’ve gotten married have had their spouses die.” There, she’d said. Irrational fear? Maybe.

  Declan stuck his hands in his pockets, his eyes dark. The moon shone brightly, but it wasn’t enough to allow her to decipher his complete expression.

  She did, however, see the confusion and frustration on his face when he withdrew a piece of paper from his pocket and read it. Horror crossed those fine features, and he jerked his eyes to hers.

  “Mia,” he said, the word strangled.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  He extended the slip of paper toward her, but she almost didn’t want to take it. She felt exposed out here on the highway, and she wanted to get back to the safety of Karly’s house. She’d been helping her sister go through her belongings. They’d made piles for donations, piles of trash, and piles of keepsakes. They’d laughed at the memories and cried at more.

  She looked at the bottom half of a standard-sized piece of notebook paper. The handwriting clearly belonged to a woman, and it read And you better get rid of that lawyer girl, Declan. You’re mine. I’d hate to see her or her family get hurt.

  “What is this?” she asked again. “Where did you get this?”

  “From my pocket,” he said. “My jacket was on the back of the couch in my house. Stacy must’ve put it there.”

  Her or her family.

  Mia clenched her fingers around the paper, wanting to tear it to pieces with her teeth. “You need to give this to the police,” she managed to say, handing it back to him.

  He read it again, his eyes wide when they met hers again. “I don’t want to get rid of you.”

  “I didn’t think this Stacy girl was this unstable,” she said. “You haven’t had contact with her in years, right?”

  “Not that I recall.”

  “And yet, she’s escalated to breaking and entering and leaving threatening notes.”

  “She looked completely different,” he said.

  “Yeah? How so?” She shivered, the autumn night chilly around her.

  “Let’s get somewhere we can talk,” he said.

  Part of her wanted to go, and part of her didn’t. If she got on his motorcycle with him, she’d be admitting she didn’t really want to break up with him.

  Which of course, you don’t, her mind whispered. But now she had a whole new reason to steer clear of the gorgeous, charismatic Declan Phelps. And it had nothing to do with her parents.

  In the end, she went with him back to the motorcycle. She let him strap the helmet on her head. She climbed onto the back of the bike and wrapped her arms around his strong torso.

  And finally, after seven long days of shallow breathing, she took a deep lungful of oxygen. It cleared her head, and she held onto him like he was the only thing keeping her safe and upright.

  Because he was.

  A very cold twenty minutes later, he parked at an all-night diner in Spring Green and led her to a booth in the corner. The lights were too bright after their flight through the night, and she let him order hot chocolate, tea, and coffee. If the waitress thought that was weird, she didn’t say so.

  In fact, she looked downright bored and a little miffed to have to be waiting on them at all. Spring Green was smaller than Forbidden Lake, and their night life certainly wasn’t hopping. So the waitress probably had plenty of time to do her crossword puzzles or whatever she was doing with those books behind the counter.

  She brought the drinks and asked if they wanted to order food, and Mia still hadn’t asked Declan to tell her more about Stacy.

  “Grilled cheese sandwiches,” Declan said. “With tots, if you have them.”

>   “Comin’ up,” the woman said, and she went back into the kitchen, as she was apparently the cook tonight as well.

  “Tell me about Stacy,” she said.

  “She had shoulder-length blonde hair. And she’d lost some weight.” He looked uncomfortable, and he even shifted on the bench across from her. “I don’t know. I didn’t even recognize her. She said I’d left Chicago too fast, so she’d come up here to see me.”

  Mia played with the end of her straw wrapper, her thoughts turning in dark circles. “You don’t think she had…I mean, of course she didn’t have anything to do with Derrick’s boat accident. I mean, that was the first night we’d gone out, and she couldn’t….” She let her voice trail off, her emotions all over the place.

  She honestly hadn’t felt like herself at all since last weekend, and she wondered if this was her new normal now.

  “Mia,” Declan said, that smooth, rockstar voice of his almost more than she could resist. But she had to resist him. She didn’t want to sneak around, despite Phoenix’s assurances that she should do what she wanted. But she couldn’t give up Declan either.

  Could she?

  “Mia,” he said again, this time his hand coming down on hers.

  She looked at him, the tears sticking to her eyelashes. “Yeah?”

  “I don’t think Stacy had anything to do with your brother-in-law’s boating accident, but I’ll find out if you think I should.”

  She nodded, a single tear tracing down her left cheek. She wiped it quickly, especially when the waitress returned to the table. “You okay, honey?” she asked, keeping her eyes on Mia.

  “I’m fine, yes,” she said, glancing at Declan.

  “You sure? I’m studying to enter the police academy, and I can call someone.” She glanced at Declan like he was the cause of Mia’s problems.

  “Is that what you’re studying over there?” Mia asked, indicating the books.

  “Can’t work the overnight shift here forever.”

  “I really am okay,” she said, shifting her plate of food. “My sister’s husband just died recently, and I’m stressed.”

  “All right,” the waitress said. “Let me know if you need anything.” She walked away, and Mia met Declan’s eye.

  A smile played against her lips, and she hadn’t smiled in so long. “I think she could’ve taken you.”

  “Oh, I don’t doubt it,” he said, glancing at the waitress. “I was terrified. Can you imagine her in a police uniform?”

  Mia giggled, feeling more like the woman she’d been last weekend at the club. She picked up her greasy, gooey grilled cheese sandwich and took a bite. A moan filled her mouth, despite the delicious food Declan had been sending.

  He chuckled, picked up a tot, and popped it into his mouth. “So we’re okay?”

  Mia took her time chewing and swallowing so she’d have time to find the right words to say. In the end, she just said, “Yeah, we’re okay,” because she wanted to be okay with Declan. She wanted to be with him, though she knew if her parents found out, she’d be causing them more stress in an already difficult time.

  Another week passed, and the weather worsened. Mia reminded herself that she felt melancholy and gray every autumn, but this one was different because of Karly’s loss. Mia had started sleeping at her own house again, and she hadn’t dealt with much at work.

  So Saturday found her in the office, catching up on the brightest fires that needed to be put out. Her phone had gone off a couple of times before she’d silenced it, and after several hours of paperwork, a few phone calls, and turning in the forms she needed to keep her clients on track with their cases, she headed out the front doors of the office building.

  She’d been alone in the office all day, so she wasn’t expecting anyone to be in the parking lot but her.

  A black SUV had parked next to her, though, and her first inclination was to ignore it. Get her keys out, get in the car, and go home. Nothing sounded better than a hot bath and a mug of hot chocolate. Maybe she could stop by Declan’s and kiss him too.

  She hadn’t seen him all week, and she had an ache in her soul that only the rockstar could soothe. He’d texted all week about the song he was writing for her, but he wouldn’t play it for her until it was ready. Whatever that meant.

  She unlocked her car with the fob, looking at the black SUV to see if there was a driver behind the wheel. But even the front windows were tinted.

  Strange, she thought—until the door opened and a man the size of a grizzly bear got out.

  Mia froze. She’d taken self-defense classes, and she slipped her keys between her fingers as if she were a super-hero with metal claws. With her other hand, she pulled her phone out of her back pocket and held it up.

  “I’m calling the cops,” she said in a loud, clear voice. “Don’t come any closer to me.”

  The man rounded the front of her car, blocking her escape. She took a moment to glance at her phone and get the keypad open. She tapped the nine and the one before he said, “Don’t call the cops.”

  “Get back in your car and leave, then.” Numbness spread down her arms and legs, and she wasn’t sure she could move, even if she wanted to.

  The man didn’t leave, and she stared at him, trying to memorize the features of his face so she could describe it to the police should she need to. She felt like she was in a showdown in the wild west, waiting for him to draw while he waited for her to do the same.

  “Do you know where Declan Phelps is?” he asked.

  “I have no idea,” she said, her heart hammering out of control.

  “You’re his lawyer, right?”

  “Yes,” she said, hoping that was all this man knew about her and Declan.

  He lifted his hands into the air, palms toward her, and said, “I’m going to get something out of my pocket.” He slowly reached into his pocket and took out a card. “See if you can get this to him. I need to talk to him.” He set the card on top of Mia’s SUV and walked around her car to his vehicle.

  She stayed right where she was until he started his car and drove out of the lot. Then she hurried to her SUV, grabbed the card, and got behind the wheel. With the doors locked, she finally breathed, her legs and arms and everything in between shaking.

  The card listed the man’s name—Bobby Freshman.

  “A lawyer?” Mia asked, glancing up and out her windshield now that she felt a bit calmer. “Why would Declan need another lawyer?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Declan found the rain, the lake, the wet beaches, the trees losing their leaves some of the best inspiration he’d had for song-writing in a while. Mia certainly helped too, though he’d put some distance between them this past week.

  She had a lot going on, and she knew how to get in touch with him. He felt like he’d been pursuing her aggressively, and he didn’t want to come across as the bad boy rockstar who wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted.

  He worked in notebooks with the sound of the rain, and drank too much tea—thanks to his grandmother—and checked his phone religiously to make sure he didn’t miss a call or text from Mia.

  He didn’t. She didn’t call or text, and Declan’s frustration for the situation grew hour by hour until he was ready to get a release any way possible.

  His phone rang on Saturday afternoon, and he hated how he hurried over to it to see if it was Mia.

  “Finally,” he muttered as he answered the call.

  “Who’s Bobby Freshman?” she asked,

  “I have no idea,” he said, not quite the greeting he’d been hoping for. He knew he was stupid for thinking he could whisk Mia away from her troubles like he had a couple of weeks ago. Everything felt hard since then, and he wondered if maybe now wasn’t the right time for them.

  Again.

  “He was sitting outside my office this afternoon,” she said. A horn honked, and Mia muttered something under her breath he didn’t catch. “It’s was terrifying. He left me his card and said you needed it.”

>   “Me?”

  “I thought you hired me.”

  “I did.” He’d taken Stacy’s note to the cops, but he hadn’t heard anything else about it. He wasn’t sure what they’d even do. She hadn’t tried to contact him, and Declan was hoping everything would just blow over.

  “Well, do you want his card?”

  “I guess I better see it,” he said. “Call him.”

  “I’ll bring it to you. Where are you these days?”

  He told her about the guest house behind Jed’s place, and she said she’d be there in a couple of minutes.

  True to her word, her delicate knocking landed on his door four minutes later, and he left his notebooks by the window to go answer her.

  “Hey,” he said, pulling open the door. Before he could finish the word and truly take in the scene, two men rushed the steps.

  Mia cried out, and Declan stepped back, trying to close the door and get Mia inside at the same time. He didn’t know what to do, and his attempts to protect Mia and seek shelter both failed.

  One man swept Mia off the steps while the other burst through the door. He was bald, with sunglasses covering his eyes, and he was easily twice as wide as Declan.

  Declan wasn’t going anywhere without a fight, and Mia’s yelp spurred him to throw a punch and land it against the guy’s jaw.

  He didn’t even seem fazed and he said, “Just come with us, and no one gets hurt.”

  “No way, man,” Declan said. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Mia,” he called outside, but she didn’t answer. Panic built in his chest, and he’d never forgive himself if something happened to her.

  The man rushed him, and Declan saw the needle a moment before it stabbed into his neck. He yowled, knocking the man’s hand away. Something freezing cold emanated from the point of contact, and his fingers felt like logs as he clawed at the syringe.

  He blinked, and things blurred.