Sweet memory the painted.., p.26
Sweet Memory (The Painted Daisies #1), page 26
“I think if Landry had known what you do now, she might have had a chance to fight off her attacker,” Jonas said. “Being trained can only be a good thing. Marco has taught me some things, so I wasn’t exactly clueless yesterday.”
They stared at each other for a long time.
“Do you want to know something that’s even more fucked up?” she asked.
He didn’t respond, and she just continued.
“It turned me on. Your strength. The way you could just…control me.”
His dick went from semi-hard to full-on.
“That’s because of the way we feel about each other, Paisley. In your heart, you knew I wouldn’t hurt you.”
She stared. “Maybe.”
“I’ve never played games with sex,” he said, swallowing hard. “There are lots of people who enjoy it.”
God, he ached to show her just how good he could make her feel, control or no control.
“You’ve had sex…” She swallowed, closed her eyes, and then opened them again. “Of course you have. Just look at you. Leya was right. You’re a sex god.”
A slow chuckle escaped him, and she smiled softly in return.
“So…you haven’t?” he asked.
Her smile faded. “No. There’s only ever been you.”
He hated the asinine, animalistic side of him that liked that she’d never been with anyone else. Millions of people had her face hanging on their wall, dreaming about her, but he wanted to be the only one who actually got to touch her.
If they kept talking about sex and control and being turned on, the tiny bit of willpower he had left was going to disappear, and he’d prove to her that he knew what he was doing, limited experience or not. Games or not.
“Go to sleep, Little Bit,” he said.
“Now who’s being bossy?” she teased.
“We’ll take turns,” he said, the deep thrill of that thought making him even harder. Her breath came out in a sexy little pant that did nothing to improve his situation.
“Promise?” she asked.
“Fuck, Paisley. Stop talking. Stop talking or I won’t be a gentleman,” he groaned.
She smiled, a shy but seductive smile that about killed him.
“I missed this. Missed feeling like I was truly seen…wanted,” she said quietly.
“You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Except for whomever else you’ve slept with.”
He shook his head and couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to tuck her hair back away from her face. The zap of electricity hitting his fingers only increased the pain in his lower region.
“Even when I was with Ashley, all I really wanted was you.”
Her eyes closed, as if his words pained her, but she didn’t say anything else.
As he watched, her breathing evened out, and her hands loosened on the sheets as sleep took over. He was still awake, hours later, when the moonlight slid across the sky, fading farther into the west. His body was craving release and rest in equal measure, but he was afraid if he closed his eyes, she’d disappear. That lying beside her would all have been a dream. Eventually, the exhaustion from days of high emotion pulled him under, and sleep found him.
♫ ♫ ♫
It felt like his eyes had just shut when her phone alarm jangled, waking them both. He jolted, realizing that, somehow, they’d shifted while asleep. Her back was tucked up against his front. His arm was slung across her waist, and their feet were tangled together. Never in his entire life had he woken to such a feeling of peace. Of belonging. Of everything being right in the world―even when nothing was. When, really, everything was going to hell all over again.
Paisley turned in his arms so she was facing him, a sleepy smile appearing on her face, eyes blinking open. God. She was fucking beautiful. Stunning. The hard-on he wasn’t sure had ever gone away the night before was back in full strength.
Her eyes drifted down his chest, toward the twitching in his pants, and then back up to his face. She leaned in, touching her soft lips to his, a whisper of a kiss like she’d started with the day before. But it sent painful swirls of need and desire rushing through him. Even after sleep, she still tasted like heaven. Like sweetness and vulnerability and power all mixed together.
Her hands sank into his hair, fingernails scratching his scalp, and they both let out a raspy moan at the same time while her alarm music continued to fill the air behind them.
Then, his phone went off as well―Trevor’s text tone―and they both laughed.
“Good morning,” she said, her smile turning wider.
She rolled out of his embrace, and he let her go but hated it.
She stopped the alarm, and he reached for his phone to read Trevor’s text.
TREVOR: He definitely was in Grand Orchard.
Jonas sat up, hope blooming.
JONAS: You found him?
TREVOR: No. Found his rental abandoned out by an old shack at the back of the Romeros’ farm.
JONAS: Are you staking it out? To see if he comes back?
TREVOR: He’s not coming back.
JONAS: How can you be sure?
Trevor sent a picture. It was another note, and this one read, I’ll see you in Albany.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Jonas hit the call button. “What’s the plan?”
Paisley was at the closet and looked over at him in surprise.
“We’re going to send the band’s bus ahead, but we’re going to lose the SUVs and switch to unmarked vans and sedans. Cars he’s not used to seeing them in.”
“The band’s going to want to know what’s going on,” Jonas said.
Paisley came over and sat at the edge of the bed next to him.
“She’s going to have to tell them, Jonas. Either she does or Reinard and his team do. It’s up to her,” Trevor responded.
I swallowed hard.
“I’ll let her know.”
“I’ll see you in about an hour,” Trevor said and then hung up.
“What?” Paisley asked, eyes wide.
He told her what Trevor had said, and her hand journeyed first to her star and then down to the anxiety ring with its little beads.
“Before…it felt like a dream. A nightmare. But I still felt like there was a shield between me and him and what had happened. Now, it’s like I threw a brick through the glass, and it’s come down around me. I’m such an idiot.” She shook her head.
Jonas wrapped an arm around her shoulder and dragged her up close.
“He would have come no matter what you did, Paisley. He doesn’t want me to be happy.”
“Did you get any threats when you were with Ashley?” she asked.
Jonas frowned. He hadn’t. But then, he and Ashley had never been photographed on the street with hands and bodies twined. He’d never posted on any social media about being in a relationship with her. They’d been study partners with benefits. Other than Marco and Cassidy, there weren’t many people who’d even known they’d had anything more than friendship. Not even Willow had suspected, and she was one of Ashley’s best friends. He said as much to Paisley, but instead of making her feel better, it only made her more agitated.
She pulled away from him, grabbed her clothes, and headed for the bathroom. “I have to tell the others. I don’t want them to hear it from anyone else. Can you let Trevor know so none of the detail spills the beans first?”
She was rambling, breathless, but she didn’t wait for an answer. The bathroom door clicked shut behind her, and he shot off a text to Trevor, letting him know that Paisley wanted to tell her friends first.
His fingers lingered over Marco’s name in his contacts, debating once again about telling his brother. Cassidy’s soft smile and Chevelle’s laugh hit him. Marco had Cassidy and the kids to worry about now. Jonas was a grown man who could take care of this with Trevor at his back. They’d tell Marco after. Marco would be pissed, but if it was over, there’d be nothing left for him to worry about.
At least, that was what Jonas hoped.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Paisley
LOUDER
Performed by Lea Michele
The entire time Paisley was getting ready, she was kicking herself. For starting this. For not telling the others. For allowing Jonas and Trevor to convince her to bring some of the security team into the loop. But underneath it all, there was a perverse sense of anticipation. It might finally be coming to a close. She might finally be able to look her sister’s killer in the face and demand answers.
She’d never hated someone she’d never met before. She’d never really hated anyone, not even the kids who’d bullied her in school. But she hated Artie. She hated that he’d hit a girl he supposedly loved. She hated that he’d ruined Jonas’s friendship with someone he cared about, and she most certainly hated he’d been idiot enough to mistake Landry for her. He’d cared so little about her life that he’d not even bothered to turn Landry around and look her in the eyes.
Her anger had her applying her makeup heavier than she’d meant to―deep slashes of cat-eye liner and dark, smoky shadow. It was a look Landry had favored, and it suited Paisley as well, even if it wasn’t her norm. She pulled on a pair of torn jeans and a lacy tank before stepping into a pair of spike-heeled ankle boots. Her outfit was like her tattoo, some tangled mix of the old Paisley and Landry.
When she came out of the bathroom, Jonas was pacing. He’d thrown on a T-shirt, but he was still in his sweats. He eyed her from head to toe, heat in his eyes but also worry.
“Don’t talk to them without me, please. I just need to jump in the shower really quick,” he said. Her stomach flopped as she realized how selfish she’d been hogging the bathroom. She hadn’t had to share in a very long time. Growing up, she and Landry had always had their own. On the road, when they’d first started touring as opening acts for other bands, they’d sometimes shared two or three to a hotel room, but on their last tour, they’d each had their own space again.
“I’m sorry I took so long,” she said.
“Don’t be. I’m the one in your room, but please give me five minutes so I can go with you,” he said.
He grabbed a few things and headed for the bathroom.
It was Paisley’s turn to pace the room. She was worried that if Jonas was with her, the band would take it out on him. But she also didn’t want to hurt him by not waiting for him like he’d asked. He wanted to be there for her in ways she hadn’t let him before, and she couldn’t take that away from him now―not when there was the possibility she might get him back in her life.
As a compromise, she sent out a group text, asking everyone to meet in her room in twenty minutes.
FEE: Should we have given you the birds-and-bees talk, Little Bit? Were you shocked?
ADRIA: Leave her alone. Paise didn’t need advice from any of you.
NIKKI: It’s too early to be going at each other already. Just make sure we have coffee, Little Bit. Lots of coffee.
PAISLEY: Did you all get drunk? I told you Asher will kill us if we aren’t 100% today.
FEE: Do not speak that man’s name this early, especially when I’m hungover. I might vomit again.
LEYA: We didn’t get drunk, Paisley. There was still plenty of lemon vodka left when we went to bed.
FEE: There’s nothing left now.
Paisley’s worry grew. Even before Landry’s death, Fiadh’s life had been full of loss. Loss that twisted in a very different way because her family was still very much alive but off-limits to her. Happy, carefree Fee had always been a cover, but it was a cover that felt a bit unstable ever since Landry had died.
Paisley placed a call to room service, ordering coffee and pastries. She’d just hung up when Jonas came out of the bathroom. Every time she saw him, he seemed more attractive. She’d just seen him minutes before, and yet he still seemed somehow brighter, bigger…more.
He was in normal Jonas apparel of jeans and a T-shirt. This one was gray with the soft peachy Painted Daisies logo on the pocket that all the roadies wore. He had Chucks on his enormous feet, and his hair was slicked back, wet with droplets shimmering off the golden edges. The soft waves were already springing back to life, and she wanted to muss it up, to run her fingers through it and hear the breathy moan he’d done just minutes before, in the bed, before his phone had gone off.
She swallowed and looked away. “The band will be here in a few minutes. Just so you know, they think we…you know.”
Jonas crossed the room and pulled her hand into his―the one she’d been unconsciously worrying her anxiety ring with. His index finger slid along the beads. “I want to make love to you, Paisley. I want to make love to you all day, all night, and into next week. But I won’t do it while this is hanging over us. Like you said, we need to put this behind us to see if we have a chance at a future. We need to come to terms with the fact that I’m the reason Landry―” He couldn’t even finish the words.
She pulled her hands from his and placed her palms on his cheeks, forcing their eyes to meet. “I think we both have to stop blaming ourselves for Artie. We’ve given him too much power, letting him terrorize us. I just want it to end. I want it to finally be over, so we can actually heal.
He nodded but didn’t get a chance to respond as a knock came on the door.
“Ms. Kim, it’s room service,” the bodyguard on the other side of the door said.
Jonas went to the door, looked through the peephole, and then opened it.
The room-service cart rolled in, and the waiter took a moment to set up the coffee and pastries. Paisley signed the slip, and then he departed. Just as he was leaving, the others came ambling into the room. None of them looked hungover, not even Fee, although her eyes were shadowed. They all shot Jonas smirks and eye rolls as they walked by him. It would have been funny if Paisley hadn’t called them there for more serious reasons.
“Thank God,” Nikki said, heading straight for the coffee as she rubbed at her temples.
“Do you have a headache?” Paisley asked, worry filling her.
Nikki shook her head. “Not a migraine but a leftover-from-alcohol kind of headache. Which is why I know better than to drink.”
Paisley waited for everyone to fill their cups and plates and find a seat.
“What’s up?” Adria asked, glancing at Jonas again. He was in his defensive stance, looking like he was going to jump anyone who even glanced at her wrong.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you,” Paisley said, swallowing hard.
Fiadh put her cup down with a clatter, waiting for her to continue.
Paisley took a deep breath and ran a finger over her ring. “I did want us to come back to Grand Orchard to finish the album, set up the tour, and get Asher off our backs, but I…I also wanted to find Landry’s killer.”
Silence took over the room.
“What exactly does that mean?” Leya asked, her normally smiley face frowning. It reminded Paisley that it wasn’t just Fee who’d changed. Leya used to be all smiles too. They’d been the fun ones. Landry had been the leader, Nikki the peacemaker, Adria the broody one, and Paisley had been the shy one. Now, they were all something else, some distorted version of their old selves.
Paisley took a deep breath. “I’ve been getting notes again. Since we came back. It’s what I hoped would happen.”
There was a series of gasps and startled versions of, “What the hell?” that went through her friends.
Fee’s eyes went immediately to Jonas. “Did you know this?”
Paisley jumped to his defense. “He found a note I was hiding, but only two days ago, Fee. I―”
“How could you keep this from us?” Leya burst out. “Does security know? Does that arrogant Secret Service agent following me around know?”
Paisley swallowed hard. “No one knew until the day before yesterday.”
“Dios,” Adria said quietly.
It was Nikki’s eyes that settled on Paisley’s for the longest and figured out what Jonas had. “You were using yourself as bait.”
“Oh, fecking hell no.” Fee jumped up, coming toward her, and Jonas stepped up next to Paisley. He didn’t say a word, just stood there. Fiadh eyed him but didn’t close the remaining distance. She just shook her head in disgust as her curls danced about. “Landry would’ve killed you herself!”
“It was stupid…but…it worked, and now they have a good lead. The first lead in almost two years,” Paisley’s voice cracked, and suddenly her hand was engulfed in a large one―Jonas shoring her up.
Leya’s eyes grew wide. “They have him?”
Paisley shook her head. “No, but they’re ninety percent sure they know who it is. The problem is, he’s left Grand Orchard. He left another note. He said he’s waiting for us in Albany.”
“Us?” Adria asked, glancing toward Jonas.
Paisley looked up into his face and saw his jaw was clenched tight. He already felt responsible for this, just like Paisley did. But she also believed what she’d told Jonas earlier. They had to stop giving Artie power over their lives. “It isn’t his fault, Ads.”
“It’s that guy. From your past? The one who roughed up your friend?” Fiadh asked Jonas.
“Yes,” Jonas finally spoke.
“And he killed Landry because he thought she was Paisley?” Leya’s voice got small.
“How could anyone think Landry was Little Bit?” Fee rolled her eyes.
“From the back, at dusk, and if he hadn’t really been around them to compare their heights…” Jonas shrugged.
“Something doesn’t feel right,” Nikki said. “It just… He killed her guard too. Neatly. Quietly. That doesn’t seem like some obsessed, jealous rage.”
