Seeing him, touching him, and hearing his voice for the first time in forever felt like coming home.
Though I knew, by tomorrow, I’d be a distant memory to Syd again, it didn’t keep me from savoring these few precious moments of bittersweet perfection.
Once upon a time, we’d been partners in crime. But Syd was a rock god now with millions of fans and, no doubt, millions of willing women falling at his feet.
I was nothing but an ugly reminder of the seedy life he’d left behind.
I hadn’t meant enough to him when we were young—which damn near killed me. The fact that he’d never once tried to find me proved I meant even less to him now.
That sad reality didn’t stop me from branding these few blissful moments with Syd to all the others locked inside my heart. I had no clue how much time I had left with him. I only knew it was going to be depressingly miniscule.
While Syd was off trotting the globe, performing for his fans, I’d be home, waiting tables at Café Trudy, making ends meet off my measly tips, and grieving all his broken promises and my own unachievable dreams.
“Let’s go, angel. You’re coming with me.”
“I-I can’t, Syd,” I sniffed. “I need to get back home.”
“Well, you can’t get there tonight, not dressed in a sheet.”
“I can’t very well go traipsing into some swanky hotel like this, either.”
“I’m going to fix that,” he assured with conviction.
He wiped my tears with the pads of his thumbs, then gently led me back to the SUV. Sliding in first, he lifted me onto his lap, then cradled my head against his shoulder.
“Where to now?” Ross asked, as the others peered expectantly at Syd and me.
“The hotel,” he announced, then jerked his chin at Ozzy. “Caris and Mia look to be about the same size, right?”
“They do. What do you need?”
“For you to call Mia and ask her to bring some clothes to the lobby.”
“Be happy to.” Ozzy sent me a reassuring smile before pulling out his cell phone.
Though he was talking softly, I heard him tell his girlfriend, Mia—the up-and-coming rock goddess Phoenix—where and how they’d found me. I was beyond grateful they’d rescued me but embarrassed that she was privy to my ordeal. I couldn’t stress over that now; I had a shitload of more pressing problems to deal with, like how to get home without money, clothes, or ID.
“Are you doing okay?” Syd whispered in my ear. I nodded. “After I get you settled in my suite, I’ll talk to the hotel manager and find a doctor to come—”
“I’ll take care of that,” Darren interrupted. “You stay with Caris. She doesn’t need to be alone right now.”
I didn’t but I wasn’t going to confirm his suspicion. I might have broken down in front of Syd, but I didn’t want the others to think me weak.
“I’ll be fine. I don’t need a doctor.”
“You do,” Syd challenged. “Some of your wounds look infected.”
“Bring her to New York with us tomorrow. I know a doctor who’ll check her out and keep his mouth shut,” Ross interjected.
“New York?” I gasped, jerking upright. “I-I can’t go to New York. I have to get home.”
“Caris, you’ve just been through a major trauma. Let me take care of you while your mind and body heal,” Syd tried to reason.
“I don’t have time for that. I have rent and bills to pay.”
“I’ll cover your—”
“Don’t.” I held up my hand to cut Syd off. “Don’t even suggest it. I can take care of myself.” He arched his brows. I knew he wanted to call bullshit to my claim since he’d found me naked and tied to that fucker’s bed. “Don’t go there, either. I’d planned to escape. I was just waiting for the opportunity to present itself.”
Okay, that was a lie, but again, weakness was and always had been the enemy.
“I’d love to hear how you’d planned to do that…later,” Syd drawled dryly as Ross brought the vehicle to a stop.
Ozzy dashed out of the SUV and jogged into the lobby. Seconds later, Mia—with her signature purple-streaked blonde hair blowing in the breeze—hurried toward the car. She had some clothes clutched to her chest and Ozzy’s arm protectively slung around her waist.
As the valet attendant stepped toward the vehicle, Ross climbed out and escorted him away. The door beside me swung open. Mia bent down, took one look at me, and wrinkled her face in sympathy and pain. Then like a petite drill sergeant,