Authors: Michelle Pace,Tammy Coons

Tags: #Romance, #Music

Rage (24 page)

like a swarm of locusts. Cheyenne shook her head and backed

away.

“Cheyenne!” He called after her, and she flipped him off as

she hurried away. She spotted a large crowd of people dancing

and noticed Nathan and Saffron among them. Seeing Nathan

brought back sordid memories, and Cheyenne felt an evil urge

growing inside her to give Scot a taste of his own medicine.

She approached the couple and placed a hand on Nathan’s

shoulder. Nathan turned to her, and the stunned look on his face practically made her chuckle.

“Saffron, can I cut in?”

Saffron smiled a racy smile that made her look like a hun-

gry lioness. “Only if we can share.”

“I’m game,” Cheyenne shrugged. Nathan glanced around

nervously.

“Far be it for me to be a party pooper, but where’s Scot?”

Nathan’s emerald eyes glittered seriously by the light of the fire.

She slid her hand down his chest. “Oh, he’s probably off

playing with our nanny.”

“Cheyenne, what’s gotten into you?” Nathan tilted his head

apprehensively, and Cheyenne rolled her eyes.

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“Fine. If you don’t want to play, I’m sure Saffron does.”

She replied and moved toward Saffron. Saffron took her by the

hand and slowly ran her fingers down the exposed flesh of

Cheyenne’s back. They began to bump and grind, working the

nearby male crowd into a cheering frenzy. Out of the corner of

her eye, Cheyenne saw Nathan disappear from sight.

After searching every corner of the bar and finding neither

Cheyenne nor Scot, Steph took a seat with a view of the party.

She figured if she stayed in one spot for a while, she’d see one of them pass. She sat sipping coconut water and watching the casual debauchery with detached amusement. Though the light off

the fires prevented her from getting the full effect of the large full moon, this particular area was the quintessential Brazilian beach, and she gave herself five minutes before she bailed on the plan to find anyone and went off toward the far end of the beach to see why the moon was so worth celebrating.

She got far enough away that all she could hear of the music

was the dull thump of the bass—she recognized it as a Fury song

from their second album—go Scot Charles! At this point in the

evening, the tide sounded much more appealing, and Steph sat

on soft sand. The moonlight cast the coastline in subtle shades of silver and gray, dark rocks and shadows, tall clouds and

shimmering waves.

“Stephanie Brier!” She heard a jovial girls voice exclaim.

Steph glanced up at the pack of college-aged girls and

immediately looked back at the water. They were the Furies who

recognized her by the bonfire. Fucking vultures.

“OMG!” One of her companions exclaimed. “You have to

tell us! What’s sex with Phillip like?”

“What do you think?” Steph replied, without taking her

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eyes off the water. Maybe if she didn’t engage, they’d wander

back to the guys and leave her alone.

“Hot.” One of the girls chimed in, and they all giggled.

“I think he looks like he’d be enormous!” another girl

replied, and her friends murmured in agreement.

Phillip’s amused voice rang out in the darkness. “Excuse

me, ladies, but would you mind if we had some time alone?”

The collective gasps made Steph chuckle. After much

giggling and apologies for “talking dirty about him,” what

ensued was a persistent request for photos.

“Ladies, please. I’ll tell you what. If Stephanie agrees to

take a real picture of us together, will you give us some

privacy?” Phillip moved between the fans and Stephanie, and she

felt relieved.

“You’re not back together, are you?” one of them demand-

ed incredulously.

“No,” Steph snapped, pulling out her camera and adjusting

the settings by heart. She doubted they’d leave when she was

done, but she was willing to give it a shot.

Phillip moved over next to the foursome. Steph took four

pictures of them. Phillip painstakingly put all four of their email addresses into his phone, swearing up and down to email each of

them the photos and assuring them he would tweet and post them

on Facebook. Steph had no doubt it would be done.

To her surprise, the girls wandered off after pecks on the

cheek (all photographed with cell phones). Soon they were alone

with the moon and the sound of the surf.

“I really don’t miss all that,” she muttered, and when she

turned in his direction, he reached out and offered her his hand.

She hesitated, afraid of the physical reaction she’d had to him the last time he’d touched her and also the lack of control she had

had in its wake. By the light of the moon, she could see his

worried eyes and realized he was in a wildly different place than he’d been in a couple of days before.

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“Please?” he asked, and Steph caved, taking his hand. He

led her further down the beach away from the partiers. When

they’d walked as far as they could, he stopped, and they both sat down in the sand.

“Tell me how you know she was a girl.” His request was

unexpected. She shot him a look, but he was looking out over the sea. Steph exhaled and launched into a quick and basic

explanation. How she had no idea she was pregnant until after

the surgery, about her father’s hurried decision to have the baby tested for genetic issues and what the doctor had told her about her future fertility after losing one fallopian tube. She explained the follow-up phone call she had received in France when she

learned that she was STD free (‘Mazel Tov, by the way’) and

that the baby had been a flawless girl, but merely had no room to grow. She left out her psychotic daydreams about the little

blonde girl, Jonquil. Steph wanted to keep her all to herself. She might tell him one day, in a letter perhaps, but he didn’t need her craziness interfering with his grief process.

Phillip said nothing for so long that Steph almost forgot he

was there as she indulged her little Jonquil fantasy. She imagined sitting on the swing with her at the fort and watching Phillip toss her high into the air. She’d often imagined Phillip carrying

Jonquil around, shielding her tiny blonde head from the papa-

razzi’s’ cameras. She felt her throat tighten, and a tear slipped down her cheek.

She whispered, “Je t'adore, ma petite.”

Phillip shot her a questioning glance, and Steph immediate-

ly felt ridiculous. She was glad for the darkness that surrounded them. She brushed away the tear and then flicked some sand off

of her black dress.

“Why didn’t you just tell me, love?” He turned to face her.

She flopped back on her elbows and looked out at the black

water.

“I was sick, Phillip. They gave me three pints of blood. And

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I was
really
high on morphine. That’s some really good shit. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to me due to a baby neither of us knew about. And I was terrified. I didn’t want you to think

that losing the baby was why I was saying no.”

He nodded, as if that made perfect sense. “Why did you say

no?”

Steph huffed and relaxed all the way back on the sand. “I

wasn’t ready to commit to “till death do us part.” Not even close.

I barely knew you. It’s fucked up, but I know you so much better after a year of tabloid sparring than I ever did when we

were…us.”

“Come on, Stephanie. That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it? I remember how nervous I was to tell you I was

moving to Europe for good. I was freaked for days before Liam

was born, hoping you wanted me there as much as I wanted to be

near you. I remember being so excited about the next phase of

us. I wanted to spend every night with you. To learn who you

were, what you thought about the world…
everything
. I wanted to discover your favorite things…what you loved.”

“I loved
you
, Stephanie.” His exasperation was blatant. He flopped down into the sand and rolled over onto his side,

propping himself up on one elbow.

“I was afraid, alright?” She felt tears forming again and

blinked rapidly to combat them. “Why didn’t you answer the

phone when I called the next morning? I finally had the balls to call you, and you never answered.”

“I was so hurt, Love. I lost it completely. I got drunk and

trashed our cottage like it was some shite hotel room on the

road.”

“I know.” She sniffed, remembering the bloody holes in the

white-washed walls.

He reached down and brushed away her tear with his

thumb. With the slightest shake of his head, he glanced up at the stars. “You were right to say no. I wasn’t mature enough to be

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anyone’s husband.”

“No, Phillip. I’m just not wife material.” Trembling at the

ugly truth of her words, she held his gaze.

“We’re quite the couple then, yeah?” he scoffed, a sad smile

creeping onto his lips.

“We were doomed from the start. Oil and water.” Stephanie

choked out the words, feeling a crushing pain as her damaged

heart fractured all over again. A long pause resonated between

them, and he gently brushed a strand of hair away from her

cheek. Shaking his head, his determined eyes held hers hostage.

“More like oil and a blowtorch, if memory serves. We were

nothing short of amazing, Stephanie.”

She covered her face with trembling hands, horrified that

she’d trashed their romance and thrown him aside. Knowing that

he was dead on and that she’d never feel like she had when she

was with him. It was the worst kind of epiphany, and anguish

strangled her. She felt him lean in and gently remove her hands

from her face. His face hovered over hers. and her tears subsided when she saw the knowing look in his eyes. She reached up

instinctively, feeling the familiar prickly feeling of his stubble under her palms.

His lips came down in a swift motion, and she relented as

his arm came around her neck pulling her mouth up to his, his

other hand on her hip, fingertips brushing her scar. She kissed

him back, throwing every emotion he brought out in her into

their kiss. His ferocity met hers and he placed himself com-

pletely on top of her.

He pulled away and fixed her with a blazing stare. “God, I

forgot how delicious you are.”

Then his mouth was on her neck, and his hand traveled up

her bare thigh and under her sundress. His large finger tugged at the waist of her panties, and Steph responded by lifting her hips enthusiastically. She was sure they were about to go too far when the entire force of the frigid tide crashed into them. They both 158