BlackJack (A Standish Bay Romance Book 1) (19 page)

She seemed
embarrassed and surprised by his offer.

“Thank you. God
bless you for what you did for everyone on this plane.”

He shrugged his
shoulders because to him it was no big deal. He did what he could do to help. Anyone
else would have done the same in his place.

Later that
evening, Cole sat on his back deck while the sun set over the water. Every
shade of yellow, orange and red imaginable radiated in the sky, not to mention
the pinks mixed in as well. No wonder people lived at the ocean. The serenity
of it was incredible.

After he downed
his soda he strolled back inside. His internal clock ran on east coast time and
exhaustion crept up on him fast. He had a meeting first thing in the morning
with his parole officer. He’d been summoned to meet with him, and Cole
suppressed worry over why as it hadn’t been a month yet. Depending on the
outcome of his meeting, he had a plane to catch to Chicago. But now it was off
to his large empty bed alone.

***

“No,” AJ yelled
as he was thrown awake from his nightmare. He sprinted into the bathroom and
puked up his dinner. It’s not possible? No way? He couldn’t have? Never would
have? His legs gave way, and his body crumpled to the unforgiving cold, hard
tiled floor. The painful pounding of his heart beat against his chest.
Everything appeared hopeless as he realized the implications of his dream. Was
it a dream or was it reality?

He curled up
into a fetal position, his body raked uncontrollably with pain, sorrow and
shame.

What had he
done?

Lindsey?

Cole?

God help him. What
had he done?

Why after all
these years were the events of that night returning to him?

The reasons
were Cole’s return to the world of the free and Ward trying to suck up to them
for his past mistakes. AJ always had a niggling feeling Ward had a thing for
Lindsey. Had they engaged in an affair? Lindsey admitted to seeing others
besides him. Was it Ward? It made sense since Ward had been reminiscing about
earlier times when she lived. He’d also stated he’d seen him and her together
the night she died. It was true, they’d been together, but not in a sexual way.
They’d had their first real fight, and over something ridiculous. But AJ would
swear his life on a Bible she lived and breathed when he’d left the hotel room.

So if it wasn’t
him or Cole who committed murder? Thinking about it made him even more
nauseated. Perhaps his memory and mind played tricks on him?

***

Cole swore as
he reached around in the dark for his cell phone. What the hell time was it,
and who the hell would call him at this hour? He found his phone just as it
stopped playing the obnoxious ring he had it set on. After turning on the light
and wincing at the time on the digital clock, Cole scrubbed his face with his
hands, trying to wake-up. Then he glanced at his phone and the missed call from
AJ. Why would he call at this hour? Hell, it was even later in Chicago or
earlier depending on how you looked at it. He called him back and waited two
rings before AJ picked up.

“Hello.”

“AJ, its Cole. Did
you just call me?”

He heard AJ
clear his throat. “Aye, ah..um...had this really weird dream about Lindsey, and
ah didn’t know who else tae call.”

Cole heard
something in his tone of voice that made him wake-up and pay more attention. “Okay,
you want to tell me about it?”

“No, not
really, it just freaked me out at the time. Forget about it. Go back tae
sleep.”

Before Cole had
a chance to reply, AJ disconnected the phone. That was, without a doubt, the
strangest phone conversation he’d ever had with AJ.

He headed into
the bathroom to relieve himself and then climbed back in bed. Wide-awake now,
Cole reached for the television remote and turned it to HBO. He finally dosed
off only to be woken up a short time later, his heart pounding, his body
drenched in sweat as he sat up and hugged his knees to his chest.

Damn, he
thought he’d finally broken free from his nightmares. Shit. This nightmare
didn’t relive his prison life. It was about Lindsey and AJ, and the trial. It
must have been the call from AJ that triggered his mind to conjure up images of
Lindsey in his sleep.

Christ, would
he ever lead a normal life?

He doubted it.

He swung his
legs off the bed and resigned himself to hitting the shower. Sleep would not revisit
him tonight.

To soothe his
frayed nerves, he let the hot water pelt his face as he thought of Shannon. He
could picture her perfectly in his mind’s eye. How she looked the first time
they met. How her eyes glazed over when she came for him and the love that shone
from her cobalt eyes when she thought he wasn’t looking. Which was very rarely
when they were together as he had trouble keeping his eyes off her.

Then his heart
clenched as he remembered what she’d looked like the last time they’d been
together. He saw her tears in her defeated eyes, skin as pale as the moon and
her body trembling as though it were below zero in temperature. He pounded his
fist into the shower wall. Lucky for Cole, it was fiberglass and not tile. Fiberglass
had give, but he still flexed his fist open and closed. Fiberglass or no
fiberglass, it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.

Cole honestly
didn’t know how much longer he could go on without Shannon? She had become his
other half and he needed her, wanted her and craved her. He wanted her more
than ever and continually had trouble concentrating on his concert tour as his
thoughts drifted to her. He had finally found the love of his life and wouldn’t
you know it, the relationship was doomed just as it had begun. He was cursed. No
doubt about it. There was no other explanation. His whole life had been cursed.

Chapter
Fourteen

Cameron sat
staring out the bus window at all the miles and miles of farmland as cornfields
flanked both sides of the road for what seemed liked forever. Would he ever
come out the other side of the maze of green, yellow and brown that defined the
state of Kansas in his eyes.

Today, he
didn’t feel well. His stomach protested something he’d eaten. He’d already used
the bus’s closet sized bathroom three times during the past hour, and he needed
to use it again. He was doubled over with unbelievable cramps that stole his
breath away, causing him to take short, shallow breaths. He prayed the pain
would subside, and he’d make it to the toilet in time because he couldn’t get
up just yet as another wave of excruciating pain hit him.

He tried hard
not to groan out too loudly as the pain seized his stomach, but he knew he did
as this girl several rows in front of him kept looking back his way. And by the
look on her face he knew he wasn’t successful in being quiet.
How
embarrassing
.

The pain
suddenly eased and he ran into the john, pulling his pants down just in time as
whatever caused him to be sick left his body. God, would it ever stop?

Weak and shaky,
Cameron washed his hands and splashed cold water on his face, hoping to stop
the spinning in his head. As he stumbled back to his spot, he used the backs of
the tall seats to keep him upright. After collapsing into his, he hugged
himself, fighting the dizziness and sweat and chills plaguing him. He’d never
felt this bad before. His stomach seemed to have turned inside out and his ass
hurt something fierce. If he had to crap one more time, he didn’t think he’d
survive.

“Excuse me.” He
looked up to see the girl standing beside him in the aisle. She cleared her
throat and seemed somewhat hesitant and nervous and then she asked, “Are you
feeling ill?”

Cameron looked
her over with as much intensity as a sick as a dog sixteen-year-old could. She
was maybe a year or two older than him, petite and dressed as a Goth. She was
pretty, but all her eyebrow piercings and nose rings took away from it. Cameron
never did care much for body piercing, except maybe the belly button. She
wasn’t rail thin, nor heavy, but she was stacked.

“Yeah I am,” he
groaned out, clutching his stomach as the cramps hit him again.
Not now
Jesus, not now.

She held out a
bottle of pink stuff, causing Cameron to smile. The pink stuff his father lived
on. But he hesitated, looking at her speculatively.

“It’s not open.”
She held it closer. “Take it. You’ll feel better.” Her face broke out into a
warm smile, and Cameron knew he could trust her. Reaching out, he took the
bottle from her, read the directions, fumbled to open the children’s safety cap
and poured the desired amount into the measuring cup.

“Thanks.” He
went to hand it back, willing his hands to be steady.

She shook her
head, causing her jet black hair to sway. “You’re going to need it.” Then she
left him and went back to her seat. Cameron smiled as he lay down as best he
could on the bus seat and prayed for sleep.

Maybe if he
slept for a while, he’d wake up feeling normal. He hated being sick, and if he
wanted to be truthful with himself, he wanted his mom or Cheryl, or even his
dad when he felt like this. Someone had always been there for him when he was
sick, which wasn’t often, but still, someone was always there to make him
comfortable. Make him soup, check his temperature and watch a movie or play
video games with him. You name it, they’d done it for him.

He rolled onto
his side, curling into a ball, and felt the first tears dampen his face. He swiped
them away in disgust. Damn, he wished he’d brought his cell phone with him so
he could call one of his friends. Running away seemed like a good idea at the
time, but now, he was lonely, sick and tired. Sleep. He needed sleep and then,
when he felt better, he’d make friends with Goth Girl.

When he finally
woke-up and wiped the sleep from his eyes, he noticed the bus sat motionless,
parked in a rest area and the sun crept low on the horizon. By his best
estimate, he’d slept for about four hours. The cramps in his stomach had
subsided for now, but it still felt odd. He didn’t know whether to risk food or
just get a soda. He’d play it safe and get off the bus and buy a Coke. But as
he gathered his stuff together the driver and several passengers returned. Damn,
it was too late. He’d have to wait for the next stop.

Goth Girl
approached him carrying a plastic convenient store bag. She hesitated, smiled
shyly, and then kept on approaching.

“You’re alive,”
she said quietly.

“Hmm, barely,”
he replied.”

She gestured to
the seat beside him. “Can I sit?”

Surprised, Cameron
replied, “Sure.” He scooted over to the window seat and moved his belongings to
the floor to make room for her.

“Is that your
guitar?” she asked, pointing to the case on the aisle seat opposite him.

“Yeah,” he
answered.”

Her eyes
widened and he noticed she had pretty deep blue eyes. “Do you play?”

Cameron rolled
his eyes, suddenly feeling better. Was she for real? “No. I just lug it around
with me for the hell of it.” He regretted his sarcastic tone immediately because
she blushed and looked embarrassed.

“Oh, I mean. I
figured you played, but you know, some people play, and some people
really
play.”

“Uh huh, well
I’m one of those who
really
play.”

Her eyes lit up
and she glanced up the aisle. “Do you think anyone would mind if you played
now?”

Cameron
shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. I could start, and if someone complains
I’ll stop.”

She removed his
guitar from the case and whistled. “Nice guitar—top quality.”

“Yeah.” Cameron
tilted his head. “How do you know?”

She handed over
the instrument. “My old boyfriend’s in a band. I used to sing for them.”

“Cool.”

She blushed. “Yeah,
well, no big deal. They aren’t very good, neither am I.”

Cameron began
playing. His hands were unsteady from being sick, but the more he played the
steadier they became. He glanced up now and again at Goth Girl who sat, smiling
and moving in her seat to the rhythm

He began to
sing, softly so not everyone could hear, and he became lost in his music. It
became his world. So tuned into his music he forgot where he was, who he was
with and where he was going and why. His music turned all encompassing. He
became one with his guitar, nothing else mattered but the sound emanating from
him. And he truly had no idea how beautiful it sounded to those around him.

After playing
nonstop for about thirty minutes, he paused and looked at Goth Girl, who just
stared in awe.

“What?”

She shook her
head. “Shit, you’re good, better than good.”

He threw his
head back and laughed. “Yeah well, I told you I could play. And if you think I
sound good on an acoustic guitar you should hear me on an electric one.”

“I know you
told me you could play, but shit man, you can
really
play.” Her eyes
widened again with awe and he felt a strange sensation in his gut. She reached
down for her bag. “Oh...I forgot. I bought you crackers and a soda for your
stomach.”

Cameron’s heart
lurched at her thoughtfulness. She may dress odd, and look odd, but she seemed
really nice. He took the food from her. “Thanks. How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing,
besides you can buy me something at our next stop.”

He smiled at
her and again felt his insides do something weird, and it had nothing to do
with having been sick. “Sure.” After he polished off the crackers and downed
the whole can of soda, he suddenly realized he couldn’t exactly call her Goth
Girl to her face.

“I’m Cameron.” He
put out his hand, waiting for her to take it.

She paused then
smiled and damn she looked pretty. “I’m Amber.”

Cameron
suddenly felt his face heat up as he realized he still held her small, warm
hand. He let it go.

“Are you going
to LA too?” she asked as she twirled a lock of her obviously dyed black hair
that shined blonde at the roots.

“Yeah,” he
replied a little hesitant.

“Why?”

“Is this the
Spanish Inquisition?”

She laughed. “No,
the Amber Inquisition. Obviously, you seem like a rich kid so if you’re
traveling somewhere you’d fly. Are you running away?”

He glanced at
her, his guard suddenly up. “So what if I am?”

“Don’t be mad.”
She paused and bit her lower lip. “I thought we could travel together and be
friends.”

Cameron
regretted snapping at her. “I’m sorry. And you’re right. I did take off.” He
shook his head, took a deep breath and expelled it. “My dad’s a cop, he doesn’t
understand me.”

She snorted. “That’s
tough. My dad’s a lawyer.”

Cameron snapped
his head toward her. “No way.”

She rolled her
eyes. “Ya way. My mom died last year and since then he’s buried himself in his
work. I thought…” She gestured toward her hair and face piercing. “If I
drastically changed myself, he’d notice me.” She hugged herself and her voice
quivered. “He didn’t.”

“I’m sorry.” Cameron’s
throat scorched as he fought back his own tears while Amber’s silently
travelled down her pretty face. “My parents are divorced. My mom’s a writer and
my Dad remarried and he and his wife Cheryl are expecting baby number four. Sometimes
I feel like an intruder in their house. My dad has this whole other family,
whole other life. I feel like I’m only there because my mom travels a lot, and
there’s nowhere else for me to go.”

Amber reached
for his hand and held it. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen. And you?”

“Seventeen last
July. I’m a senior this year.”

“Junior,” he
added.

“Where’re you
from?”

Cameron liked
the feel of her hand in his. He moved and entwined her warm fingers together
with his. “Massachusetts and you?”

“Newport, Rhode
Island.”

“Why are you
going to LA?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I
don’t know. It seemed like a good destination. I’ve never seen the west coast
and thought I’d like to.” She studied him with her deep blue eyes. “What about
you?”

“I’m looking
for someone.”

She tilted her
head and her eyes sparkled with interest. “Who?”

Cameron laughed
and shook his head. “If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

She narrowed
her eyes. “Try me?”

“Cole Jackson,”
he said with a resigned sigh.

“The Cole
Jackson,” Amber said, her voice raising several octaves, “from BlackJack ?”

“Uh huh,” he
grunted.

“Do you know
him?”

“Yup,” he
mumbled.

“Isn’t he on
tour or something?”

“Yeah he is,
but I know for a fact he flies home once a month to check in with his parole
officer.”

“How do you
know that?”

Cameron frowned
and sighed as he remembered the last time he’d seen Cole. What a mess his dad
made of that day. “My mom used to date him.”

***

Amber sat up
straight and took a good look at him. Tall and thin with long, thick brown hair
curling up at his neck. His deep hazel eyes made him look cute as hell. Lose
fitting faded jeans and black Nike T-shirt looked good on him. The big question
was, was he telling the truth, or just being a typical teenage asshole trying
to impress her? Somehow though, she thought he was being straight with her. She
hoped so anyway because she liked him.

“Your mom dated
Cole Jackson?”

“Yeah, sounds
hard to believe, but it’s true. I even played with him on stage at the Boston Garden.”

She remembered
hearing something about some gifted musician playing with BlackJack. That was Cameron?
She shifted in her seat, leaning closer and tightening her grip on their still
entwined fingers. “Get out. What was it like?”

Cameron’s face
lit up and Amber smiled. Damn he was cute.

“It was
incredible, even better than incredible, more like awesome. Being up on stage
with thousands of screaming fans listening to you play was strange. I don’t
know how to describe it except to say it’s indescribable. I always dreamed
about it, but my dreams didn’t even come close to the real thing.”

“What’s Cole
like?”

“Not like you’d
think. He’s quiet, protective of those he cares about and treats me as an equal.”
Cameron’s face lit up again. “We’ve written several songs together and man, oh
man, he’s talented. He wrote all the music and lyrics to every song BlackJack has
ever recorded.”

“I didn’t know
that.” Amber suddenly became quiet, and Cameron thought she looked sad.

“What’s wrong?”

Amber pulled
her hand from his. “Do I look ugly to you?”

“No. I think
you’re pretty.”

Her eyes flew
to his and widened with hope. “You do?” She hoped he was telling the truth
because she found him hot.

“Yeah, I do.”

“What about my
nose rings and my eyebrow studs?”

“They’re okay.”

“I hate them—the
piercings. I only did it to get my dad’s attention, and to tell you the truth…I
don’t think he even noticed. Other people notice though, they stare at me, at
them, even you did.”

She proceeded
to remove two nose rings, several eyebrow studs and place them in her pocket.

“I like the way
you look without them,” Cameron said as he smiled at her shyly.

“Cameron. There’s
barely anyone on the bus and it’s dark. Would you have sex with me?” she whispered.

***

Cole’s morning
went like clockwork and after meeting with his parole officer he drove straight
to LAX and boarded his flight to Chicago’s O’Hare Airport. Boring as hell was
all he could think. Where were the heavy traffic and delays when you wanted
them? The flight was even boring and so was the drive to the hotel. Almost too
calm, too boring, too easy and it unsettled him. Something didn’t feel right in
his bones.