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“Celt is Jesse’s sperm donor. He’s no parent to my son. He will never be my son’s dad for as long as I draw breath.” Lio’s head snapped between the three of us as he absorbed my words.
“Okay,” Lio drawled and changed the subject. “So you’ve no idea if this is an obsessed fan with an imagined slight or a stalker?”
“No, but if he is, he’s appeared from nowhere,” Mick confirmed. “Asshole’s not on our watch list.”
“Are there a lot of names on it?” Gold asked. Mick pulled a face.
“We’ve six hot and sexy people in the band; yeah, we got fifty names we monitor,” Mick confirmed, and Lio’s mouth dropped open.
“Fifty?”
“Well, fifty-three, as it stands. They are the crazies, the stalkers and the delusional. Pictures circle each week around the team on a Sunday, so we’re up to date on lunatics. The list gets longer but never shorter.”
“Guess being famous isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Bear commented. My head snapped up, and I sent him a dirty glare.
“What would you know? When does Hellfire bring in thousands to raise money during a charity concert? Does Bear draw in crowds for an auction? Do you tour hospitals, playing songs for sick kids on the cancer wards? Oh wait, does Hellfire spend hours answering mail and sending small gifts to those in need?” Bear had the grace to look shamefaced.
“The good Mom does outweighs the badness that comes with fame,” Jesse sneered. “You’d know nothing of that.”
“You’re right, son; we know shit about what your mom does,” Celt said, and Jesse flared.
“Not your son!”
“That’s a figure of speech,” Celt explained.
“Don’t use it around me,” Jesse retorted. “Anyway, why was the asshole there?” I frowned as I stared at Jesse. I thought Celt had resolved that.
“Will you watch your language, Jesse? Celt told you they were visiting the baby shop.”
“Not that prick the other one.” My body stiffened as I absorbed what Jesse was saying. There’s only one other prick Jesse could possibly be referring to.
“Are you telling me Tobias was present?” I asked.
“Yeah, and he was watching you. When the man fired, Tobias began jogging forward until that asshole took me down. Then Tobias turned and fled,” Jesse explained.
“That puts a different spin on it,” Mick said. “I need to examine the placement of those bullets.” My brain struggled to keep up with what Mick was thinking, and when it finally realised the answers, I gasped out loud.
“You think Tobias set the whole thing up so he could play hero in my eyes?”
“Yeah, Chey, we’ve seen the lengths Tobias has gone to be some part of your life,” Mick replied.
“Ah, bollocks,” I muttered, leaning back against Jesse.
“Yeah, oh shit,” Mick confirmed as I saw Dave approaching, his face set in stone.
Chapter Four.
Happily, I sank into the bath with a sigh of relief. I’d be bruised from head to toe tomorrow from where Mick had tackled me, but at least I was alive! The water was hot, and I had sprayed liberal amounts of lavender in it to help me relax. Not for the first time since I arrived back at the motel, my mind drifted to the events from earlier.
Mick’s suspicions were proved half correct; the bullets aimed in my direction had missed by a mile. But frighteningly enough, the shots directed at Jesse hadn’t. Celt had taken one that would have killed Jesse outright. Nothing made sense, but the police had an arrest warrant out for Tobias. Miraculously, he’d wriggled out of the breach of injunction and had been sent back on the streets. Lio Hawthorne was now investigating what had happened there.
Nana wasn’t happy when she discovered the events. However, Jesse had recuperated enough to take off with Bridge to the games room, the motel boasted to play pool. That allowed me to have a hot bath and soak my poor abused muscles. Jeez, Mick was solid and hit like a ton of bricks. I was so used to being around the guards I rarely paid attention to how big they were.
Wincing, I checked out a particularly painful spot on my hip and flinched as I saw the dark bruising that had appeared. Of course, someone leaked my name in conjunction with the shooting, and Ken held an impromptu interview, confirming I was alive and well. In truth, I was starting to think Spearfish was cursed, what with everything that had happened since we arrived a week ago. Maybe this was the reason I’d not returned, not just Celt and that asshole, Zeus. Bewildered by the events, I dunked my head underwater and allowed the shit from today to soak off my skin.
An hour later, I wandered downstairs to Nana sniffing. Nana was cooking Mexican, and there’d be a riot to fill our bellies tonight. I intended to play the pathetic one and ensure I got my belly filled. As I entered the kitchen, I heard a rumble of voices and paused on the threshold. That wasn’t a member of the band speaking to Nana. Surprised, my gaze landed on Chance talking to Nana, and I glowered. Fuck’s sake, I didn’t need this.
Chance caught my entrance, and his eyes widened as he took in my appearance. My face was scrubbed clean of make-up, fluffy pyjamas and my hair tied back in pigtails. Chance’s mouth quirked in amusement but refrained from commenting on the rabbit slippers I wore. Combatively, I lifted an eyebrow and pursed my lips.
