Vindication: A Motorcycle Club Romance (30 page)

Prison. Fucking hell, what if I went
to prison? How long could I even survive with my level of fame? Something told
me most of the dudes inside weren’t eager to be friends with some jet-setting
rock star.

“Noah
saved me
,” said Quinn,
quietly.

“I know,” said Gavin. “I know, Quinn.
I’m sorry. I wish that mattered like it should.

“Everyone thinks Noah’s the monster,
when it’s been Duke this whole time. Who gives a shit about your old bar
fights? I can’t believe that’s all it takes for people to think he would murder
someone.”

“I know,” said Gavin again. “I still
wish I had had more power over that deal you signed with him. Somehow I saw
something like this coming.”

“We all did,” I mumbled. “It was just
always a question of when, and what.”

“But it wasn’t your job to keep away
the industry predators, it was mine. My failure,” said Gavin. When both Quinn
and I looked up at him, he turned toward the window. “I’m good at this business
because, really, the music business is about people—knowing what they want,
what they need, and what they're going to do next. My point is it's my job to
know people, and I know you, Noah—this isn't you. You are a good man. And Duke
is not. I saw that, and I should have put a stop to it. I should have kept him
away from both of you."

Gavin’s words filled me with an
unnamed, difficult emotion. I couldn’t look at him.

“If we had some proof of the truth of
what happened, things would be different. But we’re shooting blanks here.”

“Ten thousand people at that festival
and we can’t find a goddamn lick of proof,” I said to myself. “It doesn’t make
any sense.”

“I guess it was just the angle. Most
people could only see the guy on stage from behind, wouldn’t have seen him
holding a knife in front of him,” said Gavin.

The three of us fell quiet and
listened to the high-rise wind blow by the window. Sunlight crept across the
harbor, glittering off the water.

“Try to keep your mind off things,”
said Gavin finally. “Get some rest, you two. Stay off the Internet. I’ll have
someone keep an eye on the other guys. Let’s just try to have some peace before
we find out the real damage.”

“Meaning?” I said.

“Whether or not they’re going to file
charges against you.”

Glad I asked.

“I can’t believe this is happening,”
said Quinn. “Not like this.”

~
ELEVEN ~

Laurel

I was a bundle of nerves as I waited for Noah at the
Graveyard Club that night. The day he got the call about the band meeting, he
was so despondent afterwards that he didn’t want to fool around or play like
goofballs anymore. He seemed like he wanted to be alone, so I excused myself
for my imaginary job in the city and went back to the hotel. I’d spent most of
last night and all day looking for more news about Noah’s charges, or Duke’s
announcement, but nobody had a scent on anything fresh. I seemed to be the only
one who even knew there was a meeting happening.

There was little chance anything good
was going to happen at a meeting like that. When Noah showed up—if he showed up
at all—he probably wasn’t going to be too happy. But I’d be here, anyway.

My nerves were on fire for a
secondary but equally important reason—important, at least, to myself, and my
sanity. After I left Noah’s and returned to the empty, anonymous solitude of
the hotel, a sense of pain and loneliness washed over me that was unlike
anything I’d felt before. Loneliness, of course, was never new, not to me or
any professional. But that night, something was deeper about it; more
permanent. Maybe it wasn’t that the loneliness was any greater. Maybe it was
just that, in comparison to how happy I had been with Noah, it might as well
have been the abyss.

These sensations didn’t register to
me. I hadn’t longed for a serious companion in years. I loved my job, and I
loved the freedom I had to keep things on my terms. None of them ever wandered
into my thoughts when they weren’t around, unless it was because I was horny
and needed the material. But the second I left Noah’s house that night and
climbed into my chilly rental car, he haunted my mind. He still hadn’t left it.

Scared to admit what might be
happening to me, a dark voice in my mind was saying a prayerful chant that Noah
wouldn’t show up tonight, so I didn’t have to face how completely unguarded I
felt around him. And so I didn’t have to feel the pain when he finally left
again. And so I didn’t have to face the other fears – the ones that constantly
reminded me about what he was going to do, and how he was going to feel, when
he eventually learned the truth about me. Ignoring those feelings were hardest
of all, but professionally, the most important ones to keep at bay. I had a job
to do, and that’s why I was here in the first place. The feelings I was
developing for Noah had to be kept separate from that, didn’t they?

“Another round!” I said as Kevin
passed by. I downed the rest of the beer in front of me before Kevin could put
the fresh one down. He just laughed as he refreshed my round.

The Graveyard Club was jumping
tonight, already more packed than I’d seen it so far. A touring metalcore band
was headlining the show tonight, and their bigger fan draw meant the show was
still going to get crazier before the night ended. Kevin had two extra
bartenders helping him out, and so far, there hadn’t been a hitch with the
service.

Noah came in behind a group of five
or six young guys showing up for the concert, sinking into the crowd and
maneuvering his way around, edging against the wall. Already I could see the
sad darkness on the rim of his eyes that betrayed his heavy thoughts. He met my
gaze across the room and gave me a soft smile, pushing his way through the
crowd until he stood next to my stool.

Noah bent down and pressed his
forehead against mine. He kissed me softly. “Hi, sugar.”

“Hey,” I said. The nickname made me
smile every time. “I was wondering when you’d show up. How did the meeting go?”

Noah closed his eyes and inhaled
sharply through his nose.

“That bad, huh?” I said, running a
thumb over his cheek. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Noah blinked a few times, thinking.
“Maybe later. I’m too fucking pissed to talk about it right now. Are you
staying long?”

“I’ve got all night,” I said. “I’m
all yours.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he
said. “I want to check out a couple of these sets. I’m going to go grab a
bottle from Kevin and make sure he doesn’t need any help. I’ll be back.”

“Okay. I’ll go get us some space in
the crowd,” I said.

Noah kissed me, biting my lip with
gentle force. “I’m glad you’re here.” I got off the stool and he gave my ass a
playful smack before he turned and headed for the back room.

I found a spot near the back wall
with a decent view of the stage, well out of the range of the mosh pit. The
dudes hanging out tonight were pretty huge, some of them Noah’s size, and I
didn’t have any interest in throwing around with them. There was a constant
flow of people into and out of the crowd as the band’s set continued; people
hitting the facilities, getting beer, or going outside to smoke, the movement
never ended. I tried my best to ignore it and enjoy the show when a tall body
came to a stop next to me.

At first I didn’t think anything
other than the general awareness of someone in my personal bubble, but that was
just a consequence of being at a packed underground show, so I quickly brushed
it off my mind. But then this creeping sensation moved along my skin and I
turned to look.

The dude was tall, thin, and
dark-haired. Judging by his eyes, he had been drinking for many hours before he
even got to the show, but there was nothing fun about the drunkenness on his
face. He leered down at me with something in his glassy eyes that looked almost
like hatred.

Immediately I gave him a sour look.
“The fuck is your problem?” I yelled at him over the music as I took a step to
the side to add some distance between us.

“You got my fucking dick hard,” he
slurred at me, stepping closer.

Oh, fuck. My heart started racing and
I stumbled two steps back until I hit the wall hard. Before I could reach out
and grab the hoodie of a dude standing in front of me, the drunk guy stumbled
forward and pinned me against the wall with his body, leaching his fetid breath
into my face.

“Get the fuck off me!” I screamed,
but my voice was just one of many screams in the hardcore din, and in the dark
corners of the club it was near impossible for anyone to tell that what was
happening wasn’t right.

The drunk guy ground his body against
mine. I made a desperate bend for the pocket knife I kept strapped inside my
combat boots, but he countered faster than I expected and yanked me by my hair
to keep me upright. His other hand ripped its way up my shirt and over my
breast as he lowered his mouth over mine and forced his tongue past my lips. My
body froze at the shock and speed of it.

Feeling bile rise in my throat, I did
the only thing I could and bit down on his tongue. He yanked his head away and
howled, but the grip he had on my breast and hair only tightened. When his nails
dug into my sensitive skin, I screamed in pain.

In the dark strobing lights, suddenly
the drunk was falling backwards with wide, surprised eyes. He released his
death grip on my body and his hands flew out to the sides, trying desperately
to find some balance, and failing. He hit the floor on his tailbone hard and
instantly writhed like a worm on a sidewalk after a rainstorm.

Noah stood over him, his shoulders
squared, his eyes blazing with hate and anger. Like a herd of sheep, the crowd
instantly parted from the scene of the fight, as entranced by the display of
power as I was. Noah circled the fallen man before he grabbed him by the shirt
collar and pulled him up until he was hanging like a rag doll, his tip-toes
just barely scraping the floor.

Noah didn’t even scream at him. He
let him hang there for a few horrible seconds, terrified, staring into the face
of pure hatred. Then he threw him hard into the bar, where his face connected
with counter edge and let out a sickening thud. The drunk collapsed to the
floor in an agonizing heap.

I was still pressed against the wall,
too shocked to move. Kevin came around from behind the bar, carrying a beat-up
baseball bat and looking ready to fight. When he saw Noah standing over the
man, he dropped the bat and helped Noah pick him up. A few other men stepped up
to give a hand and together they dragged the motherfucker out of the club.

The band kept playing, and most of
the show-goers didn’t even notice.

Noah came back inside and immediately
made his way over to me at the wall. A few people had already gathered gently
around me, asking if I was okay. He patted each of them on the shoulder as he
pushed by them to get to me. As soon as he was close enough, he gripped my head
between his hands and forced me to look him in the eyes.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

I hadn’t even had time to consider
the question. In a split second I went from feeling that disgusting man’s hands
all over me to watching him get beat up by Noah Hardy. It was all too much, too
fast.

Noah seemed to sense that. He rubbed
his thumbs over my cheeks, his expression crumpled and worried, before kissing
the top of my head and leading me away from the wall with an arm around my
shoulder.

We ended up in the back room of the
bar where Kevin kept the kegs and did all his washing for the place. The room
was a bit quieter, muffling the sounds from the stage. Kevin brought us all
shots and joined us in a quick drink before he rushed back out to deal with his
full house of customers.

The whiskey helped. I felt my muscles
loosening under the warmth. Slowly, my mind started to reconnect with the rest
of my body.

Noah only stood in front of me,
holding my hand, rubbing it gently in his. He waited. “Did he hurt you?”

I shook my head immediately. “No,
no.” He had grabbed my breast pretty hard, but already the pain was fading. “It
just happened so fast, it scared the shit out of me.”

“I can’t fucking believe that just
happened in my club,” said Noah with an angry shake of his head. “If that
asshole dares show his face around here again, he won’t live to regret it.”

My mind was racing with confusion.
Noah really was violent, he had just proven that beyond a doubt—as if his
record didn’t already prove it. And yet as angry as he was, and as badly as he
hurt that dude, he still didn’t kill him. He still showed restraint, and in a
moment when probably everyone else in this club would have understood if he
hadn’t.

Noah was violently loyal. He’d give
up everything to protect his roots; and he’d kill to protect his friends. Or
his girl.

Is that what I was?

He seemed to suddenly be aware of the
weight of his words, given the situation. Noah’s face flushed, and the hand
stroking my hair slowed. His eyes darted around. “I mean… fuck, I… I really
should not have said that.”

I grasped the hand on the side of my
face and brought it to my mouth for a gentle kiss. “No. Don’t apologize. I’m
lucky you were here to protect me.”

Something like hope flashed across
Noah’s face. He mimicked my affection and brought my hand to his lips, pursing
them there against my skin with his eyes closed.

“We can get out of here,” he said. “I
understand if you don’t want to stay in here after that.”

I stroked his beard and smiled.
“You’re sweet to worry. But I’m okay, really.”

“What if I said I wanted to get out
of here?”

I shrugged. “I’d say sure. Metalcore
never really was my jam.”

“There’s just too many people here
tonight,” said Noah. “There’s too much in my head tonight. I want to go
somewhere peaceful with you.”

“Sounds wonderful,” I said.

“Good,” said Noah, taking my hand.
“Come with me.”