Authors: Anne Mercier
Tags: #rockstar, #blush, #rockstar series, #anne mercier, #falling down, #jesse kingston, #lucy russo
Ethan grunts.
“I knew it was coming,“ Cage adds. “I figured
I'd let it play out, get out there wherever it's going to go
because they're going to see you, Lucy. They're going to see you
handle yourself in a manner they likely have no fucking clue you
can. Those of us who know you, know you can handle yourself. Now
everyone else will, too.“ He pulls me in to his chest and kisses my
forehead. He picks up my hand which hurts so bad right now it's all
I can do
not
to cry.
“Let's take a trip to the ER,“ Damian tells
me.
I nod.
Jesse steps forward. I turn to him. “No.“
“Lucy.“
“I said no.“
“Dude, let it go for now,“ Ben says, a hand
to Jesse's chest to keep him from coming toward me. My hand is
killing me and I'm pretty sure broken but I
will
hit him if
he steps any closer. My Italian's at a full-out boil and there is
no holding me back right now.
“I'll go with her,“ Xander says.
“Me too,“ Sera adds.
“I'll stop in at your hotel in the morning,
mama.“
She nods, lips pressed tight in a thin
line.
My dad steps up and hugs me. “Nice
punch.“
“Thanks daddy. I'll see you in the
morning.“
He kisses my cheek. “Be safe, Button. Call
and let us know.“
I nod and walk out of the arena, away from
Jesse. Anger, disappointment, hurt, fear, disgust, and a touch of
indifference flow through me. It's the indifference that has me
worried. That should not be there but I know why it is. It's all
I've got to protect myself when this shit happens—and it
will
happen again. I can't understand why—how he could allow
that to persist. Ego boost? Habit? I don't know and honestly, at
this point, I don't care. There's that indifference again.
“I don't know what—“ Xander begins.
“It doesn't matter.“ I shrug as I climb into
the back seat of the car.
Sera puts an ice pack a roadie handed her
over my hand and I hiss a breath. She cringes.
“Sorry.“
“Not your fault, sissy.“
“You know it's broken, right?“ Xander
asks.
I nod. “I saw the bruising was immediate.
Hopefully they can set it without surgery because there are two
bones sticking up on the top of my hand.“
He nods. “Whatever it takes.“ He pulls me
into his side and I rest my head on his shoulder, my hand on my
lap, and Sera leans her head on my shoulder.
Cage's phone keeps going off and he finally
turns it off.
Damian turns around. “Jesse.“
I shrug. “I figured.“
“I'm sure he's worried—“ Cage states, his
eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror.
“He should be,“ I tell him, cutting him off.
He sees it. The indifference. The wall that I'm building up.
Cage's lips thin out into a line much like my
mom's did and he nods. “Yes. Yes, he should.“
“WELL, MRS. KINGSTON, your hand is definitely
broken,“ the hot Dr. Kane Donovan tells me in an amazingly sexy
Irish lilt. Mmm, mmm, mmm. A sexy Irish accent will make even the
most devoted woman purr.
I sigh. “I had a feeling.“
He nods. “There is a little displacement so
we're going to try to set that for you before we put a cast
on.“
“Lovely.“
“Do you have those waterproof ones?“ Xander
asks. “That way when she sweats up on stage she won't itch like a
motherfucker.“
“We do. If you see here,“ the doctor puts up
the x-ray, “your third and fourth metacarpals are fractured. The
fourth, as you see here, is just slightly off center but that's
simple enough to rectify.“
“Will I need surgery?“ I ask.
“Nope. We can hook you up right here,“ he
tells me. He really is a very nice doctor, very handsome,
professional, and extremely patient. You'd have to be to deal with
Xander. And, Jesus, that accent.
“Oh good. We do have a day between shows but
that's travel time. I really don't want to fly if I don't have to
and then deal with security having a fit because of any metal that
might be put in there,“ I babble.
“Wow,“ Xander says. “Take a breath, Luce.
What kind of drugs did you give her?“
“The really good kind…for Lucy at least.“ Dr.
Donovan smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes and he lets me
see it. Secrets? I have no clue what that look means. He's complex
for a stranger. I don't need any more complicated men, but it seems
I'm a magnet for them.
“So you know, doc,“ Xander begins, “she gets
plowed off of one, maybe two drinks tops.“
“Such good meds,“ I slur, turning my head on
the pillow. “Where'd Sera go?“
“She went to call your mom,“ Xander tells
me.
“Ah. Mama Russo is a force to be reckoned
with. Did I make YouTube?“
Xander laughs. “I haven't looked yet.“
“Well look. Sheesh.“
Dr. Hot Stuff laughs. “Since it's going to be
on the news before you walk out the door, what exactly
happened?“
As the sweet doctor casts my hand, I go
through the entire story. He murmurs and makes appropriate noises
at the appropriate times. Have I mentioned his accent? Wow, it's
hot in here.
“So you see, doc, I was trying to be good. I
didn't
want
to hit her.“
He gives me a look.
I grin sheepishly. “Okay, okay. So maybe I
did want to hit her, but I didn't. I tried to walk away, be the
bigger person and all that.“
He nods. “Sometimes it doesn't work out that
way no matter how much you want it to.“
“Exactly!“ I tell him. “I feel really good
right now. Floaty.“
He chuckles. “Good. Then you won't feel any
pain for a while. We'll give you another dose of the pain
medication before you leave so you can sleep when you get to
wherever you're going.“
I look him up and down, only my eyes roving
over him, and Xander sees the look.
“Oh shit,“ Xander says.
The doc's eyebrows pull together.
“So, doc. Tell me.“
He nods.
“Do you like working here? Is this what you
saw yourself doing when you wanted to become a doctor?“
“I like it alright.“
“Come on now. I was honest with
you
.“
“Touché.“ He pauses for a minute while
wrapping the pink casting material around my wrist, arm, and hand.
Pink! A pretty hot pink that I hope glows in the dark and keeps my
butthead husband awake at night.
The sexy doc looks up and meets my gaze. “No.
This wasn't what I saw myself doing.“
I nod.
“What do you
want
to do?“ I ask.
“Honestly?“
I nod.
“Private practice and not a practice where we
focus on quantity instead of quality.“ The “like we do here“ is
purposefully left off the end of that sentence.
I nod.
“Hmm. Maybe we could help you out with that,“
I murmur.
“Oh my God, Lucy,“ Sera chides as she comes
back into the room.
“What?“ I ask innocently. “I'm only trying to
help the hot doctor out.“
He smirks.
“And how are you doing that?“ Sera asks.
“Well, you see, Dr. Donovan isn't happy doing
this job. He wants quality over quantity.“
Sera grunts.
I nod then shrug. “He could think about
it.“
“Think about what?“ he asks.
Oh my. That accent is distracting me.
“I was trying really hard not to say
anything,“ I begin, “but I can't hold back any longer. Your accent
is so sexy, doc. I bet you have women falling all over you with
those good looks and sexified accent.“
He laughs. “Sexified accent.“ He considers
this for a few seconds then nods. “I think I like that one,
lass
.“
“Oh, no, don't do it,“ Sera begins, hand over
her heart.
“Don't do what?“ he asks.
“Get all extreme with that sexified accent
because I'll be going home with wet panties and no relief in
sight,“ she confesses.
The good doctor blushes a bit and I
laugh.
“Not true, Sera,“ I tell her looking at
Cage.
She grunts and frowns. Huh. I'll be digging
for that information soon.
“As I was saying, maybe you'd want to come
work for us or with us or whatever. Do try to keep on task,
doc.“
He grins. “I'll do my best.“
“That's all we can hope for. Now. First off,
are you married?“
“No.“
I raise a brow and look at Sera. She smirks.
Cage growls. I bite back a laugh.
“Kids?“
“No.“
“Anything in particular keeping you
here?“
“Nope.“
“So, you'd be willing to relocate?“
He shrugs. “If the right thing came along,
sure.“
“If I wasn't married to the man of my
dreams—the bastard—I'd tell you I could be the right thing for you
and I'm sure I'd
come
along,“ I slur.
“Whoa,“ Xander says laughing.
“What did you give her?“ Sera asks.
Dr. Hot Stuff just shakes his head.
“Anyway, say you were offered…“ I name a
number.
“An obscene amount of money?“ he asks with a
laugh and a raise of his eyebrows.
I snort. Yes, snort. I'm feeling no pain and
I can't care. I'm feeling lazy, sloppy, and carefree. “If that's
what you want to call it.“
“What would I do for this extremely generous
salary?“
“As you know we travel a lot. We have roadies
and tons of personnel. If you'd have been on site tonight, you
could have helped me and saved me a lot of attention in the waiting
room by being able to call ahead to the hospital and all that
jazz.“
He nods. “Essentially I wouldn't have much to
do, is what you're saying.“
“Oh there's plenty to do. I'm thinking we can
use someone to keep the road crew in shape, make sure they're
lifting properly, things like that. And the rest of us could use
someone to keep an eye on us. I mean, what if we get sick while on
the road? If we get dehydrated? Couldn't you hook us up on the bus
instead of admitting us to the hospital?“
“I could and I see where you're going with
this.“
“And when we're not on tour, you could still
be our personal physician and have your regular patients in your
private practice.“
“Hmm,“ he murmurs, finishing off the cast. My
fingers are the size of sausages. Not the breakfast link sausages
either. No, I'm talking big fat sausages—like bratwurst fat. It's
so unattractive. That shit's going to hurt when these drugs wear
off.
“Where would I be located for this dream
job?“
“L.A. area. It's up to you where
exactly.“
“And how would I be able to open my own
private practice without the funding?“
“Oh, you'd have the funding,“ Cage interrupts
from the corner. Shit. I forgot he was there. Damian has his arms
crossed over his chest, a smirk on his face, and he sends me a
wink. I try to wink back but end up blinking both eyes extra long.
He chuckles and I snort again.
The doc nods. “How soon would you need to
know my answer?“
I pat his cheek with my good hand. “Now would
be great but I know that's not happening,“ I slur. “So let me give
you my number—“
“Nah,“ Cage says. “I'll give him mine. You've
got enough to deal with right now.“
I nod and swallow. “Thanks for the reminder,
fucker.“
Everyone busts out laughing, even the
doc.
“Sure, sure. Laugh it up. Laugh it up at the
chick whose husband let fucking groupies…“ and then I lose it. I
scream. I mean, I
scream
. All the emotions I had locked
away, slithered through the cracks made by these sneaky-ass pain
meds.
“Oh, baby girl,“ Xander croons. He comes and
pulls me to his chest.
“I'm okay. I'm not crying, Xan my man.“
“I know Luce my goose.“
I snort at that. “I like that.“
He nods. “Me too.“
“I can't cry,“ I loud whisper as if that's
going to stop anyone in the room from hearing what I'm saying.
“Why not, doll?“
I shrug. “I don't
feel
anything.“
“That's the drugs,“ Sera says.
“No,“ Cage tells her with a shake of his
head. “She's shut down.“
“What?“ Sera asks.
“Her walls are up. I saw it on the way
over.“
I nod into Xander's chest and he sighs. He
kisses the top of my head. “It'll be alright, Luce.“
“Mhmm, I know.“
“I'll take care of you. Sera, Damian, Cage.
We've all got your back no matter what you decide. Okay?“
I nod. “'Kay.“
“Yes,“ Dr. Hot Stuff says.
“Huh?“ I ask.
“I'll take the job.“
I grin, sort of. I'm sure it looks like more
of a grimace but I'm trying anyway. “Excellent.“
“Christ almighty, Lucy,“ Cage says
incredulously. “How do you do that?“
I shrug. “It's a gift.“
“A gift,“ he repeats in disbelief.
“Sure. Your gift is picking out talent,
making amazing things come to life, and making money. Mine is
finding the right person for the right job or position. Dr. Hot
Stuff, here, is perfect. He'll fit right in.“