Savaged Vows: Savaged Illusions Trilogy Book 2 Read online

  “I’m getting him a lawyer, and I’ll be there as soon as I can. You try to pin this on him, we’ll go to the media and let them know the guy with a knife is still on the loose while you hassle a former Marine who was seriously injured in the line of duty.” He cut the call, ready to kill someone.

  Pull yourself together. Beth doesn’t need you losing it right now. Get to the police station and sort this out.

  “Do you know a lawyer?” she asked.

  After handing the phone back to Beth, he put the car in gear and drove while mentally ticking off what he needed to do. “No. I’ll call Sloane once we get to the house. He manages MMA fighters now, and a few of them have gotten into trouble, so he knows a reputable law firm.” But he couldn’t leave Beth alone to work on getting his father out of jail. “Can you call Emily? See if she’ll come stay with you?”

  While Beth made the call, he eased around a corner. He lasted five seconds before he asked, “Is Emily answering?”

  “Not calling Em, I’m— Sloane, hi, it’s Liza.”

  Justice jerked. “What are you doing?”

  She held up a hand. “The detective on my case called…” She summed up the conversation, then asked, “Do you know any good criminal lawyers who can get over to the jail right away and try to get him released today?”

  Justice gripped the wheel as he heard Sloane’s deep voice answering, but he couldn’t make out the words.

  She sank back against the seat and closed her eyes. “Thank you.” She held the phone out to him.

  He stared at her for one heartbeat. This was why he loved her so damned much. She was in pain and miserable, yet here she was helping his dad. He took the phone but said to her, “You’re amazing.”

  “We have to get Noah out of there. I saw him after being in the auditorium for less than five minutes, and he looked bad. I don’t know how he’s handling being dragged to a police station, interrogated and arrested.”

  Her very real concern for his dad eased his own anguish, outrage and frustration. He didn’t have to handle this alone, he had Beth. Putting the phone to his ear, he said, “Sloane.”

  “I’ll contact the firm I use and have a lawyer call you in the next hour.”

  Justice headed into the decades-old track of homes. “I don’t know if my dad will talk to the lawyer. Sounds like he’s not talking to the cops.” Had his dad shut down entirely? Or was he having panic attacks? He rubbed his chest to ease the crushing anxiety and regret.

  “He’ll talk to me,” Liza said softly. “I’ll go with you to the police station.”

  Oh hell no. She was too weak and sore, and the doctors had been clear—total rest for a few days, and no lifting. The police station surrounded by chaos, desperation and germs wasn’t the place for Beth right now. “You’re going straight to bed.” This was one thing he’d do right—take care of Beth.

  Justice turned on his street and hit the brakes when he spotted at least a dozen media vehicles in front of his house. “Goddamn it.” Tossing the phone, he threw the Jeep in reverse, shot back up the road and spun around. Flooring it, he glared at the mirror.

  Had any of the reporters spotted them? No one seemed to notice.

  “Oh crap,” Beth blurted out. “Why are they at your house? No one knew I was being released.”

  Frustrated fury pounded in his head. He couldn’t leave Beth there with the media vultures circling. “I don’t know.” He sucked in air to calm down and took in her pale face, bruised eyes and scabbed lip. “Hang on, I’ll figure something out.” Seeing her phone where it’d landed in the cup holder after he’d pitched it, he remembered Sloane. Picking up the device, he switched it to speaker. “Sorry, Sloane, reporters are swarming my house.”

  “The news that they arrested your father is breaking all over social media and TV. They’re calling him a suspect in Liza’s attack. They’re saying a cop found a bloodstained jacket.”

  “But we just found out,” Beth said. “How did they…?” She dropped her head back. “It doesn’t matter, they know.”

  Exactly. He needed to get her somewhere safe where she could rest. “I’m going to take Liza to her friend’s house. I’ll call you back.”

  “Can’t,” Liza cut in. “Emily’s at work.”

  His neck muscles bunched as he tried to think of an alternative.

  “Go to my penthouse suite at the Opulence Hotel,” Sloane said. “It’s secure, quiet and big enough that Liza can rest in one of the rooms and you can meet with the lawyer in the living space after he finds out the situation with your dad.”

  It was a good solution, and if he had to leave, she’d be safe and comfortable. He glanced over at her. “You okay with that?”

  “Yeah.”

  The utter fatigue in her voice stabbed him with guilt. She’d hit her limit. “Thanks, Sloane.”

  Liza said goodbye and cut the call. “What a mess.”

  He’d done this to her—coaxed his way into her life, and despite her warnings, exposed her past. Her aunt wasn’t wrong. If Liza wasn’t with him, no one would have paid any attention to her. Beth would have blended in as just another college girl in a college town. He really was a fuckup.

  Beth’s warm touch settled on his arm. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll get your dad out.”

  He took Beth’s hand in his, keeping his hold gentle around her scabbed fingers. She looked like hell.

  And never more beautiful to him.

  It was the love and trust in her green eyes that pierced his heart. She’d chosen him over her family, and even after he’d lost Court of Rock and she’d been stabbed, she hadn’t left him.

  As bad as this week had been, she was the one person who made it bearable, made it feel like together they could handle anything.

  Chapter 2

  Liza sat on the plush white couch of the hotel suite, scrolling through the news sites on her laptop. The media was salivating over the arrest of Justice’s father with lurid headlines.

  Father of Savaged Illusions’ lead singer suspected of attempted murder!

  Did Justice Cade’s father stab the singer’s girlfriend Liza Glasner?

  She rubbed her temple, unable to believe how badly things were spiraling out of control. It’d been hours since the drive home from the hospital, getting the call, seeing the media covering Justice’s house and finally landing in the penthouse. Since then, Justice had gone back over to the house to grab a few things, met with the lawyer and tried to see his dad.

  Noah had refused.

  Apprehension gnawed at her like a ravenous hellhound.

  “No.”

  Justice’s snarl jerked her gaze up from her computer. His face was carved into harsh lines that made him look closer to thirty than twenty-four. He was wearing faded jeans and a T-shirt, his tatted arms bulging with wiry strength as he spun and strode away from her. The lines of his back strained the soft cotton of his shirt. Clearly the conversation with his business manager wasn’t going well. The arrest was having a serious ripple effect.

  “Back off, Christine. I don’t need a damned publicist right now, I need to figure out how the fuck to get my dad out of this mess. He didn’t stab Liza.” He whirled, glaring at the elevator doors. “I should be doing something,” he muttered.

  Guilt and worry tightened a steel band around her chest. And beneath all that, a little pang of loss. Another publicist? Liza had been the band’s publicist.

  And you’re part of the reason they lost too.

  That pang grew into hurt. Damn it, she’d been good at her job, and she’d loved being a part of his world and having an important role to help him achieve his dream. Now she was being pushed aside.

  “Fine. Have the publicist send me the statement.” He hung up and dropped his arm. With the late-afternoon light flooding in from the huge terrace behind him, Justice appeared to have the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  Setting the computer aside, she got up and went to him, slid her arms around his waist and laid her head a
gainst his warm chest. Maybe she wasn’t on the inside of his career anymore, but she could give him this—her love and comfort.

  His arms folded around her. “Christine’s worried Court of Rock might pull the summer tour offer she’s negotiating. With my dad arrested, the media is spreading crazy rumors. And Jagged Fucking Sin suggested my dad stabbed you because he knew you were setting me up like you did Gene Hayes.” He glided his hand beneath her shirt to spread over her back.

  Her chest tightened at the mention of Hayes and the knowledge of how much her past caused problems for Justice and the band. “He wasn’t arrested for that. It’s just a warrant for unpaid tickets.” But the truth didn’t matter; the media made the link, and now it was out there like a virus, infecting the public.

  “The publicity chick is going to craft a statement clarifying that to blast over social media and put out to the news and entertainment sites. My dad’s lawyer said he’ll probably be arraigned tomorrow on that, and with luck, we can pay the outstanding tickets and fines and they’ll let him go. The guys will be here for that as a show of support and unity.” His jaw bulged. “Maybe.”

  Maybe? Another frisson of concern rippled through her. That fight in the greenroom the night Liza had been stabbed…had the damage gone deeper than Justice let on? “You said you and the band were okay.”

  “We are.”

  “What are you not telling me?”

  He sighed. “We lost, Beth. What do you think is going on? I let the whole goddamned band down. Lynx is drinking himself stupid, River’s fucking out his anger with any willing female. Gray’s vanishing and reappearing like a magician and Simon…” he shook his head, “…he’s gone so cold, he’s a machine. I think the only time he feels anything is with a guitar in his hands.”

  In the last weeks, she’d come to genuinely care about all the band members, and now they were falling apart.

  “And when my band needs me the most, here I am, trapped in San Diego taking care of my injured girlfriend with my estranged father in jail on trumped-up charges because they suspect him of trying to kill you.”

  She flinched. “Trapped?” Was that how she made him feel? A weight and obligation?

  Justice lowered his gaze, his eyes losing that icy sheen. “Shit, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I’m torn, that’s all. My friends need me, you need me, my dad’s in trouble and he still won’t see me.” He touched her face. “You’re not trapping me. I just can’t be everywhere.”

  It was more than that, Liza could feel it. The squeeze on her chest tightened. “Christine told you to distance yourself from me, didn’t she? That it looks bad—like your own dad was trying to protect you from me.” If Justice wasn’t a musician dependent on fans for his and the band’s success, it wouldn’t matter so much.

  But they needed every fan they could get to rebuild their career. And that was why Justice was so torn; he was getting real pressure.

  “Christine doesn’t decide who I love. I do, and I chose you.”

  Sincerity rang in his words, but was it really that easy? The whole reason they hired Christine was to help them achieve the fame they passionately craved. The band planned to record their own album, go on a tour…the pressure was going to multiply. She wanted that for him and yet feared it at the same time. If she was in the way with her past and so many rock fans hating her, would Justice one day realize he’d be better off without her?

  Adding to his strain wouldn’t help, so she didn’t tell him that. Instead, she smiled. “Yes you did, and now you’re mine. Christine can kiss my ass.” The manager had already made it clear to Liza that she disapproved of her and Justice’s relationship.

  “There’s my fiery Beth.” Amusement flickered in his eyes, then he sobered. “What the hell is taking the lawyer so long? She’s supposed to call after talking to my dad and meeting with the detective.”

  He’d barely gotten the words out when her phone rang. Justice released her, grabbed it off the couch and brought it back. “Police department.”

  She eyed the screen. Was this the break they desperately needed? Her heart thumped as she answered. “This is Liza.”

  “Miss Glasner, this is Detective Jenkins. I’m here in the lobby with Mr. Cade’s lawyer. We’d like to see you. I have some pictures to show you.”

  Surprised, she asked, “Here in the hotel?”

  “Yes. Mr. Cade’s lawyer said you’re staying here. Since you just got out of the hospital, I thought it’d be easier for me to come to you, rather than asking you to come down to the station.”

  She looked up at Justice. “The detective and your dad’s lawyer are here.”

  “Give them the code for the penthouse elevator.”

  Liza relayed the information and hung up. “He wants us to look at some pictures.”

  Justice led her toward the couch. “How’s your pain?”

  “It’s okay. But I need to run to the bathroom before they get here.”

  “Call out if you need anything.”

  She made her way into the bathroom, took one look in the mirror and winced. Yeah, well, she was alive, and the cuts and bruises would heal.

  A few minutes later, she shuffled over to the couch. Justice helped her settle in then handed her a glass. “Peach iced tea.”

  One of her favorites. “Thanks.” She took a sip, then asked, “Did the lawyer say anything to you about pictures?”

  “No, but she hadn’t seen my dad yet.”

  Before she could answer, the elevators doors opened. Liza recognized Detective Jenkins from when he came to talk to her in the hospital. The woman with him was fiftyish, wearing tailored black pants, a silk shirt and gray-streaked brown hair and red glasses. She said hello to Justice, then focused on her. “I’m Myra Bolton. You must be Liza?”

  After the obligatory handshake, she asked, “Is Noah okay?”

  The woman’s hard gaze softened. “Mr. Cade is very stressed and withdrawn, but I believe he’s coping.”

  Detective Jenkins slid his gaze around the penthouse as if he expected a bad guy to suddenly pop out from behind a couch or door, then landed on her. “Miss Glasner, you look a little better than the last time I saw you. How are you feeling?”

  “Worried. Noah didn’t stab me.”

  The man flattened his mouth. “So Myra has said. Repeatedly.” The detective sat on one of the gray chairs facing the couch. “This would be easier if Mr. Cade cooperated.”

  “You tried to play hardball. That’s a mistake with Mr. Cade,” Myra interjected. She turned to Justice. “I spoke to your father and read his statement. Mr. Cade told the police he didn’t do it. He said he was there, saw the attack on Liza and reacted by tackling the man off her, then the two of them wrestled on the ground. The attacker broke free, got up and ran off. Mr. Cade chased, but lost him because of his bad hip. But he insisted that he recognized Liza’s attacker.”

  Shock punched her. “Who is it?” Who hated her that much?

  Justice surged to his feet. “Then why is my dad under suspicion?”

  “This is where it gets confusing,” Myra answered. “Mr. Cade doesn’t have a name, but he swears he has pictures of the man on his cell phone. He said that the guy had been around Justice’s house and the auditorium for a day or two.”

  Liza blurted out, “Wait, you’re saying Noah was watching the house? I talked to him the day of the attack. He walked up behind me as I was unlocking the front door.”

  Myra nodded. “He said he was, well, he claims he was sort of watching out for you.”

  “Me? Like…” Her eyes burned, and a hot lump knotted her throat as she realized what that meant. “That’s why he stayed in the parking lot instead of leaving after Justice’s performance.” She swung her gaze to Justice. “Your father was there to protect me, and now he’s in jail.”

  Justice eyes narrowed, and his jaw twitched. He stood next to where she sat on the couch, nearly vibrating with fury. He swung his gaze to the cop. “You have pictures of the man who attacked
Beth, uh, Liza, and did nothing? Instead you hassled my father? Why? Because he’s a scarred, broken man who sleeps on the streets? An easy target to pin this on?”

  A chill went down her back at the sharp confrontation riding Justice’s tone. How long could he hold it together?

  Jenkins glared back at Justice. “Your father has Miss Glasner’s blood on his jacket. And he has pictures of her on his phone, along with that video Gene Hayes released. In addition, his phone had been used to go into a private online group of Hayes’s fans that brag about how much they hate Miss Glasner and believe she ruined Hayes. They want her to pay, and there are a lot of threats against her. It’s possible Mr. Cade believed Miss Glasner was harming your career too and decided to remove her permanently.”

  “No!” Liza couldn’t believe this. “Noah was a Marine. He told me he had friends who laid down their lives so people like Hayes could have a right to a trial. He called Hayes a coward for running. He didn’t believe Hayes.” She started to shake her head to emphasize her point, but a shaft of pain from her stitches made her clench her jaw.

  “I’m trying to get to the truth.” Frustration bled through the detective’s words. “I want to know who stabbed Miss Glasner, and if it’s your dad, he’s going down for it. But if it was someone else? Then I’m going to find him and put him in a cage where he belongs.”

  Liza believed he meant it. She settled her hand in Justice’s, trying to calm them both. “How can we help?”

  “Mr. Cade was following you for a couple days. It’s clear from the pictures.” The detective opened his briefcase, pulled out a clipped set of grainy eight by tens and handed them across the coffee table.

  Liza took the pages. A seed of pain lodged in her stomach as she flipped through. There was one of her locking up Justice’s house, another of her getting in her car in the driveway. More of her walking in the parking lot of the auditorium. And still another outside her apartment building. What was happening? Her hands trembled. “Noah took these? Why?”

  “It’s not what it looks like, Beth.” Justice shoved his hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “Dad wouldn’t…there has to be a reason. He’s never hurt anyone off the battlefield. Even in his worst rages, he never lashed out at me or my mom.” He spun to the detective. “What about the other pictures? Or did you just come here to scare Liza?”