He pulled around the back and unlocked the door to the storage room, going straight for his guitar. He glanced at the clock at the end of the hall. There was plenty of time—he should beat the traffic. Something made him look up again and when he did, he went dead still.
She was staring at him, equally shocked to see him. His mouth was hanging open, and he closed it and shifted the guitar to his other hand. She moved slowly toward him and he had the thought that he should run, but he wasn’t sure why.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
Her face was covered with something powdery and her black hair went every direction. It hadn’t been that long since he’d seen her on the plane, but she’d obviously been busy since then. She moved until she was standing beside him but still didn’t say a word.
“Coco?” he said softly.
“Can you help me carry a few things to the car?” Her voice was different when she finally spoke. Measured and monotone.
He wondered if she was on something. Something seemed off about her. Really off.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes. I have to get this stuff to Suzanne. It’s in one of the closets on the other side.” She pointed behind her. “It won’t take long.”
He hesitated, but he really wanted to get out of there, so maybe the sooner he helped her, the sooner he could leave. “Uh, okay. I’m in a hurry, so as long as we’re quick. Did you park out front? I didn’t see a car.”
She nodded and gestured for him to come with her. He set the guitar down and followed her. They walked down the hallway, through the rooms where they’d eaten and rehearsed, and through another hall on the far side that he’d never noticed.
She stopped at the last door and unlocked it. They stepped inside and he looked around. The room had a table and chairs and a door on the other side.
“It’s just through that door, to the right,” she said, motioning with her head.
He sighed and moved forward, regretting ever stopping at the warehouse in the first place. He opened the door past the table and stepped inside.
“What should I grab?” He turned around to make sure he knew what she wanted, and she had a crowbar raised in the air, coming straight for his head.
He heard talking and whimpering when he woke up, but he was so out of it, he thought he might be dreaming. He was lying on the floor, face down, but his arms were … were they broken? They were stuck in such an odd angle. Once he started trying to move his arms and feet, he realized he was tied up.
Coco.
He lifted his head and the pain nearly made him pass out again, but he didn’t. She was staring at him from across the room. She muttered something over and over, it almost sounded like a chant, but it took him a while to make out what she was saying.
“He was nice to me. I never planned to kill him. He was nice to me. I never planned to kill him. He was nice to me. I never planned to kill him. He was nice to me. I never planned to kill him. He was nice to me. I never planned to kill him. He was nice to me. I never planned to kill him…”
When it registered, he looked her in the eye and spoke in his calmest voice, right over her chanting.
“Do you mean me? I’m not dead. See? I’m okay.” He had to repeat it a few times and she finally stopped and her eyes focused.
“For now,” she said.
She wiped the tears from her face and smiled a tiny, shaky smile that made his blood run cold. Holy shit, he was with a psychopath.
She picked up the bottle of pills sitting next to her, popped one in her mouth, and stood up. She walked to the door then turned to look down at him.
“Where are you going, Coco? Let’s talk. Tell me what’s going on. I can help you. Coco, please.” The words sped out of his mouth and he knew they weren’t doing any good.
“I’ll have to deal with you later,” she said, calmly. “I can’t let you get in the way of my plan.”
“What plan? I can help you, if you tell me what you need.”
She shook her head, all quick, jerky movements.
“I don’t need help,” she said. “I have a plan and you showing up here was not part of it.” She leaned against the wall and when she spoke again, her voice was softer. “You’re a really nice guy and if I didn’t love Beckham, you’re the only other guy I’ve ever met who I’d even think about being with.”
“Beckham is a great guy,” Ian said. His head hurt too bad to look at her anymore, so he stopped trying and rested his head on the floor.
“He’s the best,” she said.
“Have you loved him a long time?”
“Since I was 12.”
“Is that when you met? When you were 12?”
“No, I met him when I was 15.”
“Does he know you love him?”
Coco’s cheeks flushed. “Oh no.” She shook her head. “I’ve always been too shy to tell him. Soon, though.” She leaned forward, her eyes suddenly bright with excitement. “I have a plan,” she whispered.
A chill went down Ian’s spine.
“So you said. Wish you’d let me in on that plan. I want my buddy Beckham to be happy,” he said with a smile.
He had no idea what to do, but stalling her seemed like the best option until he could get the rope loose.
“I can make him happy. I know I can. He likes my eyes. He said I remind him of Zooey Deschanel.” She nodded and opened her mouth like she was going to say something else but didn’t.
Yeah, Zooey on a deranged, psychopath day, he thought. I’ll never look at her the same way again. In the next second he was kicking himself. You’re about to die here and you’re cracking jokes to yourself? Idiot! And the never-ending, underlying thoughts that wouldn’t stop running through his mind were, Please let me live to see Sparrow and Journey again. Please protect them. Please let them know how much I love them.
“Well, I’ve chatted long enough. I need to go get rid of your car.” She opened the door. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t go anywhere.” She laughed at her joke and left.
He tried to fight it but fell asleep while she was gone. When he woke up the next time, he felt more out of it than before. He had the sensation of motion … things were passing in a blur. He tried to focus but his vision kept going black, and then everything came to an abrupt stop.
She’d either hit him again and knocked him out or drugged him. He blinked and tried to focus, but the floor tilted. He couldn’t tell what was real. Get your head together, Ian! He tried to shake himself. He heard Sparrow’s voice. Don’t let this girl outsmart you, babe.
When he came to again, he was in a room with a thick leather band looped around his waist. His feet weren’t tied, but his hands were. A chain hooked onto the leather band and was attached at the other end to a metal bedpost. He could see a toilet in the small bathroom connected to the bedroom, and it looked like he’d be able to reach it. He just couldn’t reach the door out of here.
The cottage was so quiet without Chloe and Leo, Roxie didn’t know what to do with herself. She showered, did laundry, and video chatted with Leo a few times. He was excited to be at Grammie’s house and had to show her how the house was still the same without them. Grammie also still looked the same, and so did his rock collection.
She threw on a pair of shorts and a tank and opened all the windows. The breeze drifted through the windows as she did Pilates. She blew out all the negative thoughts and breathed in peaceful ones. Her nerves calmed and she felt better. Except for one huge bruise on her thigh, her body was healing from the fall. And as close as she had come to losing her heart again, she felt like she’d taken a step in the right direction. She wished she could blow Beckham Woods out of her brain as easily as a puff of air, but she knew that was impossible. His music had always been deeply imbedded in her, and her fantasies of him had long ago played out and backfired. Now that she’d gotten to know the real guy, though, she found that he’d penetrated her heart far deeper than she imagined possible.
She’d wai
ted for hours in his New York suite, laughing her head off at him and Ian on The Tonight Show. The three of them had been magical that night. Beckham looked and sounded better than she’d ever seen him. The thought actually crossed her mind that maybe it was her kisses that had given him that extra spark. She allowed, in those quiet moments after Sierra left and Leo fell asleep, to think that maybe she could have that life. Maybe she could have him.
When he never came back and she saw that she’d missed a call from the lab, she realized what had happened. She carried Leo out of there, got a cab, and they crawled into the bunks on the bus. Beckham’s distance after that further solidified that she’d temporarily lost her sanity. There was no future with Beckham.
And then if she’d had any doubt, seeing the flight attendant follow him into the bathroom and then not come out for a while … it was obvious he was getting her out of his system. She had to pretend to be asleep so she wouldn’t be bawling when he came out.
Why he then invited her to stay with him made no sense, but nothing about Beckham Woods had ever made sense when it came to her. As much as she wanted to believe they could have something, it just always ended up in disarray.
It stung, but she was a big girl. Yes, she’d cried more times than she could count, but that would eventually stop. She’d gotten over him before, she’d be fine this time too.
No more feeling sorry for herself. And no more daydreaming about what could have been. It was time to move on.
She heard something outside and looked out the window. She’d told Johnny to go home. There was no need for him anymore. She thought he was probably still out there though. He seemed to think he didn’t have to answer to her.
While she did a few more stretches, the breeze picked up and she felt chilled. She slowly stood up and went to shut the windows.
She screamed when she saw someone standing outside her window. They turned and ran. The gauzy curtains made it hard to see any features, but she felt certain it’d been a girl. Shaking, she opened the door and looked around.
“Hello? Johnny?” she called.
No answer.
Creeped out, she shut the door and locked it and then closed all the windows. She didn’t see any signs of the girl or her bodyguard. Still shaking, she told herself to calm down and called Jill, the owner of the house. She looked out the window again to see if they were home.
“Jill? It’s Roxie,” she said as soon as Jill answered.
“Oh hey, girl! How’s the tour going?” she asked politely.
“It’s been great. I just wanted to let you know I’m back for a couple of nights. I should have let you know I would be back, so you didn’t think someone had broken in out here.” Roxie laughed nervously.
“Thanks, that’s probably a good idea!” Jill laughed.
“You didn’t just come by, did you? I saw someone outside my window a few minutes ago.”
“Weird! No,” she said. “I’m actually not home right now, but I can have Eddie take a look around if you’re nervous.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing. Just thought I’d check. Maybe I’ll see you before I head out again.”
“That’d be great. Let’s have coffee or something.”
They hung up and Roxie took another look outside but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. She dialed Johnny.
“Johnny here,” he answered.
“Hey. Did you finally listen to me and go home?”
“No, I’m coming back. Silly girl. You can’t get rid of me that easily. Boss would kill me if he knew I left, though.”
“It’s fine. I won’t tell.”
“Thanks. I’m close. I needed a 4x4, animal style, and backup hadn’t come yet. Al’s supposed to be working tonight. Want anything?”
“Mmm, that does sound good. I’ll have a double meat, animal style … wait—make that without the onions though. But everything else. Please,” she added.
“You got it. Fries?”
“Pfft. Yeah!” she snorted.
This was going to change her whole day. She hadn’t had In-N-Out since before the tour started.
Johnny knocked on the door ten minutes later and handed her the bag. She wanted to hug him.
“Thank you!” she said, cramming her mouth with fries.
“Don’t mention it.”
“Hey, it’s probably nothing, but someone was here earlier, looking in my window. I think it was a girl.” She pointed at the window closest to the door.
“What?”
“Scared me to death. I screamed when I saw her and she took off.”
“Why are you just now telling me this?”
“I did call to see where you were and got sidetracked by this.” She held up her burger.
He glared. “I’ll take a look around the perimeter.” He suddenly stepped into bodyguard mode and backed out of the front door. “Before it gets dark…”
“Thanks, Johnny. I’ll go ahead and make up the couch bed for Al. And you can take Leo’s bed—he’s not here tonight.”
“No, don’t worry about us. We’ll take turns sitting up. I’m about to set up the tents. Really,” he raised his hands when she began to protest, “I’m looking forward to being outside. So is Al. We’ve been cooped up too long. I know this’ll be good for me,” he said with genuine enthusiasm.
She laughed. “Okay. If you’re sure. I can give you some extra blankets.”
“Thank you.”
The iPad mini dropped into her lap at least five times before Roxie gave up and stopped trying to read her book. She turned her light off, put in her ear buds with soft music playing, and closed her eyes. Her dreams gave her permission to think about Beckham Woods.
The girl in the window. A car backfired and the ground shook. Kissing Beckham. His eyes. His touch felt real. They were in her bed. He leaned down and kissed her bare skin. She tossed and turned, then shook the covers off. It was so hot. She reached for the covers again because the girl was watching from the window.
“Let me see you,” his voice echoed in her dream.
“Why is it so hot in here?” she asked him.
“Wake up,” he whispered. “Wake up!” The voice got more urgent.
She opened her eyes and her room was so full of smoke, she couldn’t see anything. She got down on the floor and crawled toward the door. She yelped when her hand touched the doorknob. Wrong thing to do. She snatched the blanket off of her bed and put that over the doorknob. She was shaking hard. Nothing was moving fast enough. Her eyes burned and her body felt sluggish. Maybe this was part of the dream too. Some of the kitchen walls were missing and the table was in pieces. She turned to the closest window and crawled out of it, stretching out on the grass.
Shaking. She woke up to someone shaking her. An oxygen mask was put over her nose and mouth. She looked up and she was in an ambulance. She tried to sit up.
“Hold up. Take it easy. How are you feeling?” one of the EMTs asked.
“I don’t know what happened,” she said in the mask.
“We’re gonna take you to the hospital, get you checked out. You’re really lucky you got out of there.”
She looked past the two men and out the open doors of the ambulance. The cottage was black in places and the smoke still filled the air. She couldn’t see the main house.
“Are Jill and Eddie okay?” she croaked, lifting the mask.
“I see a couple being checked out over there.” He tilted his head to the left. He shut the doors and said something to the guy driving. “Is there someone we could call for you? We’re gonna be on our way now.”
She shook her head as they started driving. “Johnny will call my parents. Wait! Did you see Johnny and Al?” she asked. She tried to sit up. “Sleeping outside.”
They both tried to get her to settle down and keep her mask on, but she kept pushing it back and coughing. “Where are they?” she repeated.
Her head was pounding and her eyes wouldn’t stop running from the burn.
“We’ll have
to see when we get to the hospital,” one said softly. “It’s important that you stay calm. You inhaled a lot of smoke. Keep the oxygen on.”
When Roxie got into that cab and didn’t look back, Beckham knew he’d lost his chance with her. He should have gone home, worked out until he couldn’t think straight, or asked Sierra to not let him out of her sight. But he didn’t. He told Howie to take the day off and not bother coming around until they drove to the Grammys the next night.
Another cab pulled up and the flight attendant from earlier stepped beside him and opened the door.
“Need a ride?” she asked with a smirk.
“I need a drink.” He squelched down the bile that threatened to come up and welcomed the dark spiral he was diving into headfirst.
“I can arrange that,” she whispered.
Anything to forget. He’d do anything to wipe it all out for just one night. It was pulsating with every heartbeat that Leo wasn’t his. Everywhere he looked was a reminder that Roxie didn’t want anything to do with him. You deserve a relapse, he told himself, and he stepped into the cab with her.
His cell phone vibrated and fell off of the nightstand. He grabbed it, crawled out of bed, and tried not to wake up Flight Attendant—what was her name? Morgan? Megan? Megan sounded right…
Stumbling over an empty Jameson bottle, he made it to the bathroom and turned the light on, nearly falling again over the brightness. He held onto his head, trying to push it into his neck. The room wanted to go sideways.
It’s not like you’re in a relationship, he told the bottom of his chin. He couldn’t venture up to his eyes.
What’s wrong with you?
He ran his hands over his face and through his hair.
You didn’t do anything wrong … but you may as well have. This is who you’ve always been. And this woman wanted you. No baggage there.