The older man’s swallow was audible. “James, sometimes I forgot who I was even fighting and only saw myself.”
Was it possible that he’d not only underestimated Lita…but himself, too? Never once had his urges been about harming Lita. Jesus. Never. His needs were driven only by giving her pleasure. Satisfying his darker tastes with her. Not using them against her. God, he’d even sensed she needed the same rough satisfaction he did. Perhaps she’d been the very thing that called his baser instincts to the surface.
No, not perhaps. Lita had been the catalyst, all those nights ago in that meat market bar. He’d not only spent the last four years denying his own needs, but hers as well. And that… That was unacceptable.
Every moment that passed without her was a crime. His stomach turned over and pulled, just imagining her miles away, alone, being her brave, irrepressible self without him. She didn’t need him. Her walking away had proven that. But James needed her to live, to breathe, to function. Needed her close.
Could he convince her to trust him again? How?
When the answer came to him, he was already halfway to Los Angeles.
Chapter Ten
Lita adjusted her headphones and closed her eyes, testing the drumsticks’ weight in her hands. Usually, that electric silence coming through the headphones before they started recording was chock-full of anticipation. Excitement. A high that couldn’t be explained to a non-musician. Sarge called it the Magic Minute and it was where he usually turned around and made some goofy face at her, guitar at the ready. He might even be doing it while she sat there, poised on her throne, but she couldn’t check because her eyes were stuck closed. She didn’t want to open them and see a stranger at the engineering desk.
Until now, the day they would begin recording the new album, Lita had been wearing blinders regarding the new manager. He would show up. She’d actually believed James would show up today. That he would be standing there, patient and sturdy, in the studio. That he would give her that classic James nod that meant, right, let’s get the show on the road. But he wasn’t there. He’d let her walk away and now? Now she would record her first album without his level gaze keeping her centered from behind the glass. And her heart was splintering and cracking all over again, sending little pieces of timber dropping into her stomach.
Tears she’d managed to avoid for weeks were poised, hot and ready to fall, so she reached into her back pocket and ripped her sunglasses free, shoving them onto her face. Her bandmates were watching her out of concern—and rightly so. They all needed to be on top of their game when recording. This morning, she’d woken up so sure she could handle this—and she would—she would.
Thirty seconds left until they started.
Lita exhaled slowly toward the ceiling.
“Lita.” Sarge’s voice invaded her ears. “You good to go?”
She nodded. She shook her head. She nodded again.
“We can stop,” said the lead singer. “Pick it up tomorrow.”
“No.” Her foot slipped and hit the bass drum pedal, making a low boom inside everyone’s headphones. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”
I’m not fine. I want James. I want him here. Why doesn’t he need me back? I hate him for not needing me back. But I love him so much.
The new manager’s light, feminine tone replaced the voice in her head. “We can take five, Lita, but we’re on a schedule. We need to lay this track today.”
Lita swiped her wrist under her nose. “I said I’m ready. I don’t need five.”
When her voice cracked on the final word, a silence filled with skepticism ensued. She gripped the drumsticks so hard, the bones in her fingers protested, pain bloomed and spread up her forearms. Oh God, she’d done so well until now. She’d bought furniture for her duplex. Decorated the shit out of that motherfucker. She’d been the one to schedule band rehearsals, even providing wake-up calls to their lazy bass player when necessary. All her accounts had been transferred into her name. She’d been paying bills on time without fail. There had been temptation to fly off the handle and do something reckless in the hopes of bringing James back, but she’d resisted.
But this…this was so much harder. She and James had started this band together, put it together piece by piece. They’d been here first, never acknowledging out loud that James’s intention had been to create something for her. A chance to do what she loved. All of it for her. But now she was abandoned and maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want any of it without James.