Rush of Insanity Page 6

  She mimicked his pose, sinking her head into her hands. “More than anything in this world.”

  “That’s my cue to go back to bed, then.” He shot her a half-hearted smirk and pushed to his feet. “You sure you’re okay?”

  His palm glided over her shoulder, the comfort sinking into her chest like an anvil. She nodded and kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, on the blackness outside the bus windshield. She wasn’t okay. She was nowhere near the vicinity. And nothing could fix the gaping hole in her chest.

  “I’m good.”

  He squeezed her shoulder and left her to deal with her solitude. Minute by minute, she ran over the events of the night not knowing how she’d turned into the lunatic who cursed like a drunken sailor and threw vases with the intent of inflicting at least a little harm. Judd made her lose all sense of reason. He warped her reality and turned her life into a roller coaster that wouldn’t end.

  It needed to end.

  She had to reclaim normalcy. At least she told herself she did. The stamina and faked confidence it took to stand by his side was out of her depth. More so when they mingled amongst his musician crowd.

  “Tank?”

  “Yeah,” his deep voice drifted from the bunk.

  “When all is said and done in the morning, will you drive me home?”

  “Is that what you really want?” His question was casual, without inflection, but they both knew he wasn’t talking about the ride.

  “Yeah.” She swallowed over the pain in her throat. “It’s for the best.”

  She massaged her scalp with the tips of her fingers, wishing she could push away the punishing thoughts threatening to drag her under. She did love Judd, she just didn’t love herself when she was around him.

  “Kyle is bringing us breakfast in a few hours. I can borrow his rental to take you wherever you need to go.”

  The exit strategy should’ve brought relief. Instead, her insides tightened and agony consumed her. She laid down on the bench seat, scrunched in the fetal position with her hands curled under her head. She couldn’t sleep next to Judd again. Sex was as clinical as you wanted it to be, and even though what they’d shared tonight was far from clinical, falling asleep in his arms was too heavy a burden for her to bear.

  He’d said he loved her. And it shouldn’t have been a shock. But it was. Along with the money he’d spent on that ring. A damn commitment ring.

  “Thank you.” Her words were barely audible, barely flittering over the sound of Judd’s muted snore from the back of the bus.

  She closed her eyes and begged for sleep. For anything that would bring a glimpse of peace before the storm otherwise known as tomorrow.

  “Harper?” Tank murmured.

  “Yeah?”

  “You know you’re going to kill him if you walk away again.”

  Her heart fluttered, pulsed, threatened to stop its erratic beat. There was nothing she could do. She would hurt him by leaving, and if she stayed, she be forever crazed with senselessness and continuously reminded that she didn’t have a place in his world. Their lives weren’t meant to intertwine.

  “It’s for the best,” she repeated and hoped to hell she was right.

  Chapter Six

  Judd woke to a faint tap, tap, tap coming from the front of the bus. He sat up and stared down the aisle, seeing Harper’s head pop up from the booth seat. He blinked then blinked again.

  What the fuck?

  She hadn’t slept beside him? He ran a hand along the sheet at his side and clenched his teeth at the lack of lingering body heat. Damn her.

  He swung his legs to the side of the bed and snatched his jeans off the floor. Her lack of interest in getting back together scared him. She’d always warned him she wasn’t going to stick around. She wasn’t going to be a permanent part of his life. He hadn’t wanted to believe it. He’d actually hoped the threats were another way of keeping him on his toes.

  There was too much lust keeping her at his side and too much love pulling him toward her to ever imagine a life without her.

  But she did leave, and he needed to know why to ensure he did everything to stop it happening again.

  The bus door opened and Tank filled the front of the aisle to greet Kyle at the top of the staircase.

  “Morning,” Judd grated as he strode toward them. He kept his focus trained on his employees, unable to look at her. Not yet. Not when he was still drugged from sleep and deprived of waking up beside her.

  Tank hit him with a stare filled with pity, giving him a world of information with his tight lips and concerned eyes before he even opened his mouth. “Kyle and I are going to have a chat outside.”

  “We are?” His assistant looked between them with a frown. “What about?”

  Tank continued to hold Judd’s attention, letting him know he hadn’t won Harper over like he’d thought.

  “About tonight’s show.” Tank turned to Kyle and grabbed the boxes from his hands to place them on the small dining table. “We’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “But I brought breakfast.” Kyle balked. “The croissants are still warm.”

  “Move.” Tank descended the stairs, forcing Kyle backward.

  “I’m going. I’m going.”

  The crunch of gravel entered the silence of the bus, the heavy footsteps disappearing down the desolate road.

  “What was that about?” Harper stretched her arms above her head, the picture of lazy perfection.

  He still couldn’t look at her. He didn’t want to see her lack of emotion when he was so overcome with it that bile rose in his throat. She had no clue he was devastated to wake up alone. No clue that, yet again, he was already mourning the inevitable loss of her.

  “You couldn’t even sleep beside me?” Finally, he lowered his focus, taking in her wide eyes and sleep tousled hair. She was beautiful, even with the darkened stain of mascara marking the top of her cheeks.

  “I was restless. I didn’t want to keep you awake.”

  A derisive laugh vibrated from his throat. “Sure…” She was ready to leave. He could see it in the defiant lift of her chin. “You promised me answers, Harper.” His tone wavered, and he didn’t care at how weak it made him. His pride was dying under the fear of loss. He just needed to know why. Why did she leave? Why did she quit loving him? Why couldn’t they make this work? “What happened between us that made you walk out on me?”

  She huffed out a breath and turned her focus to the road outside the front windscreen. “How much time do we have for this conversation?”

  “Fucking hell,” he muttered. The bile crept higher, threatening to bring him to his knees. He’d been reckless with his feelings before. He’d sprouted his affection to past lovers in songs. He’d written love letters. He’d inundated florists with bouquet orders.

  Harper was different. She rejected any display of affection—public, private or otherwise—and her constant reminders that she was going to leave made him cautious enough not to push the boundaries. He’d been wary with her, never knowing if his next step would be the last.

  “Here I was thinking you were having as much fun as I was. How fucking clueless am I?” He grated his knuckles over his sternum, trying to kill the ache there.

  She kept her focus straight ahead, staring into space, ignoring him.

  “Talk to me.” He couldn’t move. Couldn’t get closer. She’d scorch him if he did. “Explain.”

  “Whatever we shared wasn’t working for me anymore.” She released a heavy breath and turned to face him. “I’m sorry.”

  “Whatever we shared? Jesus Christ.” He stepped back and bumped into the bar fridge. “Whatever we shared was a big fucking deal to me. How could it mean nothing to you?”

  “It didn’t mean nothing.” She rested her elbows on the small table and hung her head into her hands.

  “But it didn’t mean enough to stick around either,” he muttered.

  “There’s no future with us.” She pinned him with a mere glimpse of the hone
sty in her eyes. Pinned him like an insect to a cork board.

  “I don’t fit in. I don’t mesh. I’m on the outside, constantly looking in on the perfection of your life.” Her voice grew with confidence. “And that’s fine for a fling that involves great sex, but I can’t be on the sideline forever.”

  “You were never on the sideline,” he growled. “I was always with you. I wanted to spend all my spare time with you.”

  “Yeah. To have sex. But when it came to public appearances you wanted me out of the spotlight as soon as possible. You took me to two award ceremonies, only out of obligation, and didn’t even broach the subject of attending the after parties. And not once did you take me out for dinner with your famous friends.” She raised a check-mate brow. “Those actions are a clear statement on how you saw me.”

  Fucking hell. His pride rose, burning up his chest and into his cheeks. “No, Harper. Those actions were a statement of how much I hate those events and how comfortable I was in our relationship not to feel obliged to take you. But obviously my message wasn’t clear. Maybe if you had a problem, or were eager for the media attention, you should’ve said something.”

  “You know I’m not here for the media, and our problems were much more than a few parties.”

  “Care to elaborate?” he seethed. She was painting him as the neglectful partner, when all along he’d wanted nothing more than to bathe her in affection.

  She stood and his heart lurched at the sudden movement. He wasn’t ready for her to leave. They weren’t finished. They couldn’t be.

  “You make me crazy,” her voice rose in the confined space. “I’m not a psychotic person, Judd. Not around anyone other than you.”

  “I think the security guard with your teeth marks tattooed in his arm would disagree.”

  “This isn’t a joke,” she huffed. “When I’m around you, I don’t fit in. I don’t even fit into my own skin. I feel like it’s a persona, like I’m playing a role to get responses from you that I’ve never looked for with other guys. I say things that I never would’ve imagined saying to anyone. And I do things…”

  Pink entered her cheeks, from frustration or embarrassment he wasn’t sure but it was beautiful. So damn beautiful.

  “I throw vases and swear like a trucker.” She panted for breath and her throat convulsed with a heavy swallow. “You tear this insanity from me, and it’s not normal. It’s not healthy. And it’s not me.”

  She raised her chin and stared at him, stared until the silence sliced at him with lethal blows, and he had to hold himself back from slamming his lips against hers to kiss some sense into her. Couldn’t she see that it was love?

  “Say something,” she whispered.

  He shook his head, slow and lazy. “You don’t want to hear it. You’re already gone.”

  “I guess you’re right.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out something shiny.

  A necklace.

  She held it up between them and the ring he’d given her last year fell to the bottom of the chain. “I didn’t pawn it.”

  His heart climbed to his throat and pulsed, cutting off his air.

  “I care for you, Judd. But our lives are worlds apart, and all I really want is to belong somewhere.”

  Irony hit him in the sternum, cracking ribs and piercing flesh. He didn’t fit in either. He’d given up that sensation when he chose music over an easy existence at the family business back in Phoenix. He didn’t need the excessive bank balance or the perks of celebrity status. But he loved music. And he couldn’t give up the opportunity of touching a large audience with his songs.

  “I can’t quit my career for you.” He wished he could. God, he wished he could. He really thought they had a chance, that she was the one.

  “I would never ask you to do that. I would never want you to.” She placed the ring on the table and let the chain fall into a heap around it. “Tank’s going to drive me home.”

  No. He wasn’t ready, yet he couldn’t find the words to stop her leaving. Pride still clung tight to his ribs and he fought to let it go. He fought with every step she took toward the bus door.

  “Harper?”

  She paused half way down the stairs and looked over her shoulder.

  “You may not think you fit in, but you always felt like home to me.”

  The tiny smile faded, and she quickly turned away. “Bye, Judd.”

  She stepped from the bus, the crunch of her shoes grating against the deserted street as she strode for Tank, who stood at a car parked a few feet ahead. He would’ve killed to have a reason to go after her. For the briefest excuse to get her to stay. But there was nothing.

  His friend helped her into the escape vehicle, then climbed into the driver’s seat and drove her away—from the bus, from the road and from his life.

  Again.

  Chapter Seven

  He didn’t chase after her.

  She shouldn’t have been surprised. She definitely shouldn’t have been heart broken. But she was, even more than the last time.

  “Are you okay?” Tank glanced at her from the driver’s seat.

  “I will be.”

  He nodded and gave his full attention to the road. “You did the right thing.”

  Wait. What? “I did?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged. “If you’ve been playing him with a false persona all this time, you were right to walk away.”

  “You were listening?” Her cheeks heated at the thought of Kyle and Tank overhearing her private conversation.

  “Believe me, if I had a choice to be anywhere else this morning, it wouldn’t have been stuck on the roadside, listening to the two of you bicker in a volume that could’ve been heard miles away.”

  “Well, I wasn’t playing him.” Her heart felt like it was being removed with an ice cream scoop. She didn’t want anyone thinking she’d misled Judd. That wasn’t the case. It was just…complicated. “I wasn’t pretending to be someone else. I was just…” She sighed and rested her shoulder against the passenger door window. “I just couldn’t control who I was around him. I couldn’t control anything.”

  “So you weren’t acting under a persona?”

  She focused out her window, at the buildings that glowed with the early morning sunlight. It was going to be a beautiful day. Clear skies and warm weather. In complete contrast to the dreary thoughts and cold heart overtaking her. “I don’t know what I was doing. It wasn’t me. But it wasn’t not me either…Does that make sense?”

  “Not at all.”

  See, this was her problem. The entire situation was confusing. Nothing added up.

  Tank cleared his throat. “But then again, I’ve never been in love.”

  She sighed, wishing this big, gruff man would stop trying to be her shrink.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s the answer to all your psychotic issues.”

  “Psychotic?” She glared. “I’m allowed to call myself names. But you? Not so much.”

  He grinned, the biggest grin she’d ever seen his thuggish features morph into. “My apologies.”

  Silence invaded the car. Nothing but the whir of the tires and the traffic surrounded them. She wanted to reach for the radio, to turn the volume loud to drown out the thoughts of Judd, but it would only delay the inevitable need to over analyze her decision.

  “You fit in, Harper.”

  She straightened in confusion. She thought she understood what he said, only she refused to believe it. “Pardon?”

  “You told him you didn’t fit in but you’re wrong. You fit.” Tank looked at her with solemn eyes. “With him. With his life. I don’t think he’ll ever find anyone else that will match him the way you do.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I can’t stand the limelight. It’s not me.”

  “And that’s exactly why you fit. He hates that side of his career. He doesn’t interact with the crowd because all he wants to do is sing. He loves the music and everything else is static that gets in the way. You let him be himself
when every other woman has expected to be wooed with the limelight. You remind him of how we grew up and what he wants to return to once the fame fades.”

  “That’s a lifetime away.”

  Tank inclined his head. “It could be. Or it could be tomorrow. You never know.”

  He reached for the radio and filled the awkward silence with rock music she wasn’t in the mood for. “And do you want to know what really pisses me off?”

  “Please tell me,” she muttered. “I’m dying to know.”

  “The two of you are perfect together.” He shot her a glare. “But you’ve got an affection phobia, and he’s got too much pride.”

  “Tank—”

  “Shut the fuck up, I’m on a roll.”

  She raised a brow and settled into a glare.

  “I’ll probably lose my job and my best friend for this, but that ring he gave you wasn’t a fucking commitment ring, Harper. He planned to propose to you that day.”

  She raised her hand to her chest, to the place where the ring had been carried for the last year. She no longer had it to comfort her. It was gone. Along with Judd.

  “Why didn’t he?” Her tone was weak and pathetic.

  “You might want to ask him that. All I know is that it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with how you reacted on the day.”

  How she reacted? She frowned, trying to rewind the memories of her life to the moment he’d placed the ring box in her palm.

  She’d been shocked. Almost sickened by the possibility of what lay inside. She’d known, even before opening the box, that whatever he gave her would make her fall harder for him. It scared her. It made her angry. At herself. At her inability to be normal.

  Everything that followed opening the box was a blur…apart from his murmured stipulation of it being a commitment ring.

  “He wanted to marry me?”

  Her? The woman who sang off key and danced out of rhythm.

  “Yeah, he did.”

  The past tense didn’t escape her. She could’ve been married to Judd Hart. She could’ve been the wife of a swoon-worthy musician.

  “It doesn’t change anything,” she whispered, still reaching for the missing necklace.