Chapter 22
Liza stood there a moment after the door closed, drowning in Justice’s words. She was his song, and he was her reason to breathe and live.
“Madam? You will go up to join the other wives? I was instructed to escort you up immediately so you don’t miss any of the show.”
Right. She hadn’t committed to the other wives yet, but it was a pretty easy choice. Christine was back in the Savaged Illusions suite. Did she want to share this moment with the business manager who irritated her and who Justice had come to despise? Or go up with her new friends?
A flash of pride streaked into her excitement for Justice. Liza was fitting in as his wife, and happiness filled her. She answered the guard, “I’ll go upstairs to the luxe suite. Thank you.”
The guard strode across to the glass-and-steel elevator and slid in his card. Next to that was a door that she assumed was for the stairs. Normally for one flight, she’d walk.
But considering her four-inch heeled, peep-toed boots, she’d go with the elevator. As they shot up, she thought of Emily, Nikki and Tess. Maybe next time she could bring them along too. Liza could have her very own entourage of girlfriends and be able to share this with them. After all, wasn’t that what wives of superstars did?
That thought made her smile as the doors opened to a light-filled area with thick-cushioned couches and chairs. But no one was here. A hallway snaked to the right and left. Straight ahead, the floor-to-ceiling windows displayed the massive arena packed with people. Hidden speakers piped in sound. “Welcome to the World Rock Stage!”
Liza recognized the voice of a legendary rock star opening the show before Savaged Illusions went on. Excitement built in her. This night was something she’d never forget.
Applause came rolling down the hallway. Was that from the right? With the speakers on, sound was getting harder to source. She began to pivot that way. Her nerves danced, and she wished she could indulge in a glass of champagne.
“This way, madam.”
Turning, she realized her security guard was going left. Liza hurried after him, not wanting to miss a second of Justice’s performance.
The guard knocked and opened the door. “Madam Cade.” The guard stepped back and waited for her to go through.
Liza smiled at him. “Thank you.” She walked in a few steps and stalled out. Wait. The room was too quiet. Only the barest sounds of the stage and crowds filtered in. Where were the ladies? It was a plush private room with a polished wood bar edged in padded leather at her left. Behind it, top-shelf liquor bottles rested on clear glass shelves. Groups of mahogany leather chairs faced the massive window overlooking the stage. The room must be soundproofed and the speakers turned off.
Agitation tightened her muscles. This wasn’t right. She dug her custom-designed fingernails into her palms.
As far as she could tell there was only one other person in the room. She could see the back of their head rising over the chair. Dark-brown hair.
“Hello?”
Wrong. Turn and get the hell out. Her heart pounded until it became a throb in her ears.
That chair began to turn.
Not that fast spin like on The Voice. This was slow and torturous, and everything in her knew. “No.” Had she said that out loud? The whole room tilted, and Liza grabbed the edge of the bar, her fingers biting into the black leather border. It couldn’t be, it made no sense. But the chair rotated a hundred and eighty degrees to reveal a man lounging there.
This wasn’t just a man.
It was her nightmare.
Gene Hayes rose from the chair.
Run. Oh God, run. But where? What was happening? Where was her security guard? Liza held on to the edge of the bar, struggling to make sense of this. “You can’t be here. You’re a felon.”
Hayes stopped five feet from her. His dark hair flowed to his shoulders, deep-set eyes piercing her from beneath heavy brows. And his lips, they were too perfect… She shuddered.
Oh God. The baby moved, as if sensing her mother’s panic. “How?”
“Didn’t your husband tell you? I’m one of the owners of World Rock Stage.”
“No.” She shook her head, her freshly straightened hair whipping across her face and glasses.
“Yes.” He grabbed up a document sitting on the bar. “Read it.”
She backed up. “I’m getting security. They’ll arrest you!”
His lip curled. “Who do you think arranged for your personal security guard? I’m sure he’s already out of the building now. His job is done.”
She desperately tried to make sense of this. “It was a setup? The girls—” Her throat tightened. Had her new friends lured her here? Made her think she was part of the group of rock-star wives?
“Those power-hungry whores?” Derision dripped off every word. “No. They’re as stupid as you, not knowing I’m a part owner. They’re on the other side of the floor, expecting you to show up. You’re just like them, a bitch trying to climb the ladder with your mouth open and legs spread.”
His hatred of women was tangible and terrifying. More frightening was the power he’d exerted to set this up and get her in here. He’d hired a fake security guard. Got him clearance to work the VIP floors. The scope of his influence caged her in, pinning her in place. But she wasn’t a powerless child anymore.
Don’t freeze. Run! She spun, sprinted to the door, grabbed the doorknob and twisted to yank it open.
A hand slammed against the wood.
Liza stared at that hand. The long fingers with short, buffed nails. She’d seen it before—holding out the drink that had drugged her. Oh God. Her heart stuttered.
“You ruined my fucking life, you fat cunt. I’m going to ruin yours, hurt you in ways you can’t even imagine. And FYI, no one knows I’m here except my closest friends. You can go scream it all you want, no one will believe you, Lyin’ Liza. I’ve been in Paris for days, watching you.” He leaned closer.
He smelled of burnt ash and cigars. Her stomach roiled, that scent dragging her back to that room when the darkness stole into her head, tugging her from consciousness. She’d been crying for her mom as the drugs he and her dad had fed her took effect.
Get out. Don’t stand here. He can’t touch you. All she had to do was open that door and scream for help.
“Jagged Sin was supposed to win Indie Breakout Band. My band with my name attached. I flew them to my house, paid for the production of their album, so I could show the world they couldn’t hold me back. You were supposed to destroy Savaged Illusions. But even when the World Rock Stage committee voted for Savaged Illusions, I figured once your husband found out I was involved with World Rock Stage group, then he’d refuse to sign the contract and perform.”
Justice knew? “You’re lying!”
He slapped the page against the door in front of her face. “Read it.”
She was too close with her glasses, but Liza fought to focus. She pulled her head back, and the blurs crystallized into two columns of typed names with signatures. She spotted Justice’s, along with Lynx’s, Gray’s, River’s, Simon’s, and then Christine’s as their representation.
She’d known Justice had signed the contract.
She scanned down, and her heart froze into a painful clump.
Gene Hayes. His name typed beneath owners, along with the five others, and his signature.
Unable to stop herself, she looked up.
His dark eyes stared back, malevolent hate burning on her. “He signed. He’s taking the fame and money.”
Every last drop of blood drained from her face. Black spots danced in the edge of her vision. “I—”
“He’s not the only one who betrayed you. Did you wonder how I got a copy of that ultrasound? All the info on you? How I knew you’d be here in France? I know what hotel you’re staying at. I know your room number.”
She backed up, not daring to take her eyes off him. Get away. Run.
“Nikki. That’s right, your good friend? I paid her to spy on you. She took a cell phone picture of that ultrasound, and she shot video of you in your yard. She told me how your own family cut you off. She even told me about that porn you write, but she couldn’t get alone time with your computer to steal any pages. She’s made a lot of money off betraying you.”
Nikki? No. Liza retreated until her back hit a wall. “She wouldn’t do that.” Nikki’s new and pretty condo flashed in Liza’s head. Where had she gotten the money for it?
“Oh, she would.” He sauntered to the bar and dropped the papers there. “Your friend takes my money. Your husband takes my money. You’re nothing but a trashy groupie whore.” He stalked toward her.
Fear struck her chest like a slap. Liza turned, running for the door. Her numb fingers slid off the knob. Her eyes burned with tears.
A sob tore up her throat.
Fame. Justice chose fame over her. Nikki sold her out for money. Her world shattered into a thousand shards.
His hand thunked against the door, blocking her in again. “This isn’t over, bitch.”
Goose bumps erupted on her arms, and panic clawed. He was behind her. Too close.
“I’m getting this verdict overturned. I’ve bought off your friend, I’ve got your husband on my payroll, I’ve got the best lawyers money can buy, and soon I’ll get a judge that will tell the whole world you’re a lying whore. And once I’m back in the U.S., I’ll find a way to kill you and that kid you’re carrying. No one will care.”
Her kid, her baby. No. A flood of fiercely protective strength released. Liza bent her arm and slammed her elbow into his gut.
Oof! He stumbled back.
She yanked open the door. Pounding music poured in, Justice’s powerful voice filling the air.
Betrayal pierced her head, and her knees tried to buckle. No, block it, just think of the baby. Get to safety. Liza lurched into the hall, hung a left and opened her mouth to scream for help. He’s a wanted felon! A fugitive!
Her throat squeezed, locking down the words. Years of conditioning kicked in, and her aunt’s voice admonished, Don’t talk about it, Liza. You’re making it worse. People are judging you. Us. Just keep your head down, and stay quiet.
Her voice wouldn’t work. But she wasn’t giving in. She had to get off this floor, and away from Hayes. She’d keep her baby safe, then figure out what to do. Liza skidded to a stop by the elevator, windmilling her arms to keep from falling. Once balanced, she looked down the hall.
Hayes stood there by the suite she’d just escaped, arms crossed, eyes vicious.
Go!
Forget waiting for the elevator. She lunged for the door to the stairs, yanked it open and raced through.
Too fast.
The floor was as slick as ice, and her shoes slid right off the first step. Liza hit her left hip, and pain tore through her middle as she tumbled down the stairs.
* * *
The wild energy of the packed arena crackled like a live wire as Justice sang “Expired Hero.” They were surrounded by fans on three sides and backlit by a towering screen flashing their image. He strutted the stage, making security insane as he leaned down to high-five fans.
Justice didn’t care. He fucking loved being onstage and connecting with the audience. The compelling adulation was the magic, the sensation he craved.
He really was a cocky-ass rooster, exactly as Beth described him.
Returning to center stage, he lined up next to Simon with River, Lynx and Gray spread behind them. As they hit the chorus, Justice pivoted, facing Simon as the other man unleashed his powerful vocals.
Damn, Simon was on fire and forced Justice to push hard, drawing deep to feel the song about the man no one wanted when he failed. Thinking of his dad opened the wounds to allow the pain, shame and rejection to pour out.
At the end of the song, the crowd surged to their feet, dancing and screaming.
It took several amazing minutes to calm their fans before they launched into their next song.
By the time they reached the finale, Justice poured sweat and damned near drowned in the glory of a full-bore standing ovation. They’d done it! Justice and Savaged Illusions had rocked the house and secured their place as international rock stars.
Best night ever.
When they finally left the stage, he jogged out into the wings, looking for Beth. Was she still upstairs in the luxe suite? He had to find her, to share this magnificent, perfect moment with the woman he loved.
“Justice!” Christine ran up.
“Not now.” He pushed past her, heading to the Savaged Illusions loge first. People cluttered the hallway, whispering in groups. A strange chill ran down his spine. He and his band had killed it out there, so what was the weirdly subdued vibe from?
He caught the arm of a passing security guy. “Where’s my wife? Beth, I mean Liza?”
The man’s face paled. “Sir? I—”
“I’ll tell him,” Christine jumped in.
Justice shifted to her grim face. Something had happened. “What’s going on?” Had Beth left?
“Liza fell on some stairs. An ambulance came, and she’s on her way to the hospital now.”