“Don’t touch me again,” he growls, shoving her away. Her shoulder smacks against the man behind her, and he throws Casey a filthy look as he helps right her.
Morgan clearly deserves a fist to the throat, but it goes against the man code to punch her. Luckily, I’m female and not confined to those rules. I’m quite happy to enact violence on Casey’s behalf, but the silly twat doesn’t seem quite done with her diatribe. Eyes wide with amazement, I watch as she continues to antagonize one of the few people who has ever had my back.
She even has the gall to sneer at him. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That you’re just like your loser father.”
Casey doesn’t talk much about his past. He had a shitty childhood and lost his family, including his violent drunk of a father, in a shooting. That she dared say such a thing would cut him to the bone.
“What do you know about my father?”
Her brows rise coolly, her expression triumphant as if she holds the ace card in her back pocket. “It’s all in the report.”
A loud disagreement erupts between two buffoons behind me and I miss Casey’s reply, but I don’t miss the spark of fire in Morgan’s expression. “Believe me, you’ll be sorry,” she says with a hiss.
My eyes narrow.
“Is that a threat?” Casey growls.
“You can take it any way you want to.”
He jabs a furious finger toward the exit. “Leave. Right now. I’ll get the damn report some other way.”
So that’s what she’s holding over Casey’s head. A report relating to his family. Clearly it’s important to him. I don’t know why Morgan has it, or why it’s important, and unless he wants to share it’s not my place to know, but damned if I’m going to let that bitch hold it over him.
If she isn’t going to hand it over, then I’m going to get it.
Unfortunately I’m waylaid from retrieving the report after Jamieson’s show. Casey and Grace have one hell of an altercation in the back room when the band finishes their final set. It seems Grace saw Casey and Morgan together, and it hasn’t gone down well. Her reaction isn’t irrational. Her ex-boyfriend is a philanderer, and she has issues with trust. But I was there. I know what really went down. And although Grace deserves an explanation, she has nothing to fear. But instead of Casey getting the chance to explain, everything gets heated. Henry is furious. Grace is his little sister and it’s only now that their relationship is coming to light for him.
Poor Henry. He’s always the last to know anything. He cocks back a fist, ready to smash Casey into the wall, when Jared gets in the way. To Jake’s (probable) delight, Jared takes the punch and almost goes down. In the fracas, Grace steals the keys to Casey’s beloved Marjorie, his beautifully restored Corvette Stingray, and takes off. He chases after her, naturally. And that’s the last we see of them.
I have faith in Casey, so I leave the back room to direct the pack-down. Thirty minutes later, Jake finds me on the stage. His face is pale. I’m almost scared to ask. “What is it?”
“Henry just got a call from Travis, and …” He takes a deep breath.
“Spit it out, Romero,” I snap, my chest beginning to tighten with dread.
“Casey and Grace have been in a car accident.”
“You’re wrong.” It can’t be happening again. “They were just here and … and …” I was about to say everything was fine but their actions when leaving were volatile.
“Mac … I’m sorry, but it’s true.”
I close my eyes. My legs feel ready to give out as I relive my own nightmare. The grinding of metal. The shattering of glass. The absolute fear. It’s something that stays with you forever. I sink down on the amplifier that the stagehand is trying to take away. He gives up and goes to find something else he can do. I open my eyes and look up at him. “Are they okay?”
“Casey’s in an ambulance. They’re cutting Grace from the car.”
“Jake,” I swallow, my hand reaching blindly for him.
He takes it and holds tight, his huge palm offering warmth and comfort.
“We need to get to the hospital,” I say.
“I’ll take you. Everyone else has gone ahead.”
I nod, letting him lead me off the stage so I can collect my bag. We reach the back room and Jake folds me up, securing me in his arms. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I croak.
“Don’t lie, Princess. Not to me.”
“It’s just thrown me, that’s all. Car accidents aren’t fun, you know?” I say, trying to be glib while I pull myself together. I step back from his embrace. “We should get to the hospital.”
JAKE
Mac steps away, not willing to open up. I let it go until we’re both in the car and on our way. Her car accident is not something she’s spoken to me about, yet it’s clearly still affecting her. “Tell me about your accident, Mac. Please? I need to know.”
“No you don’t, Jake,” she says, turning her head out the window. “It’s in the past where it belongs.”
“Where I belong?” I ask, my voice bitter as I slow the car to a stop at a red light.
“Don’t be dramatic,” she snaps, her quills rising. “I’m just saying there’s no point in rehashing past hurt.”
“How is it rehashing if we haven’t talked about it before?” I argue. The light turns green and I accelerate.
Mac swallows, a flush appearing high on her cheeks. “It’s just … hard to talk about.”
I reach across and squeeze her knee. “But if you can’t talk about it with me, then who can you talk about it with?”
“What’s the point in talking about it at all?”
Frustration rises and I suppress the emotion. “To share the burden.” I shift my hand and take hold of hers, linking our fingers in her lap while I drive with one hand on the steering wheel. “With me.”
There’s a long pause. It stretches into a minute, then two, and just when I’m beginning to think she’s not going to say anything at all, she speaks. “My brothers were lecturing me. Again,” she says, her voice sad and distant. “We were on the Motorway, and I remember being angry. So angry with you I couldn’t think straight. They were relentless and wouldn’t stop, even Jared who was speeding along the road. So I told them the one thing guaranteed to shut them up.”
“Which was what?” I ask.
Her breath hitches with a choppy sound. “That I was pregnant.”
The road blurs in front of my eyes, and I squeeze her hand in mine.
“It shocked Jared the most. He veered right off the road and before he could recover control, the car hit loose gravel and that was it. I remember the car flipping like it was in slow motion. Travis and Eli were in the back with me and even though I had my seatbelt on, Trav still reached out to pin me back in the seat.”
Her head bows and the sight is a knife to my heart. We reach our destination and I indicate, turning in to the hospital parking lot. It’s late at night and there are plenty of spots available. I find one and ease to a stop. After turning off the ignition, the car settles into silence. All either of us can hear is the quiet ticking of the heated engine.