Joy Ride Desiree Holt (ebook reader 8 inch .TXT) 📖

Sliding off the huge black crate she’d been sitting on, she watched for Marc to walk off the stage. The roadies were already out there, setting up for the main act, but Lightnin’ was huddled in a tight little circle, talking. Then she saw Butch join them, shake all their hands, and guided them off the stage in the opposite direction. Finding a out of the way space by the exit door, she attempted to make herself invisible for what seemed like a long time, trying to decide what to do. Everyone else with the band had disappeared by now.

Maybe she should go to Marc’s house and wait for him. Or just go home.

But he’d told her to go on ahead to the dressing room. He’d left from the other side of the stage so he was probably already there.

I’m a grown woman who can certainly find the way to the dressing room by myself.

Making her way down the hall, she found the place she was looking for and heard the sound of voices even before she opened the door. It sounded to her as if everyone was talking at once.

Good news. Of course everyone’s excited.

She walked in, looked around…and stopped. Her heart stopped, too.

Marc stood against the wall with his shirt open, and Lacey was plastered against him like white on rice, her mouth attached to his in a lip-lock unlike any Emma had ever seen. One leg was wrapped around his hips and a hand planted firmly on his butt. Marc was gripping her shoulders. Someone—maybe more than one person—was encouraging them with piercing wolf whistles and loud clapping.

“You get him, Lacey,” one of the women yelled. “That’s the way.”

“You always get so damn lucky, Marco Polo.” Emma thought it was someone from the band but she couldn’t be sure.

Pain lanced through her; maybe the worst she’d ever felt. Everything inside her seemed to shrivel up and die. If she could have evaporated into the air she would have. Instead she seemed frozen to the floor, sick with a sense of betrayal, her heart cracking into pieces.

He lied. That was all she could think. Not have anything going with Lacey? Not interested? All lies. But why? What was the point? Her heart felt as if an axe had pierced it, the pain radiating through her body. A sense of total betrayal consumed her. From start to finish everything had been a fraud.

It was all a fake. Pretend. A line he fed me. Why? It’s not as if he can’t have his pick of women. But damn it, he seemed so sincere and I almost bought it.

Maybe he was intrigued by the “good girl” Emma. And when all was said and done, that was who she really was. The purple streak? The new clothes? Dancing to the rock music? That belonged to Music Lady, a role she apparently didn’t play very well.

So why this charade? Why bring me tonight? To humiliate me?

Oh God, it hurts. It hurts so much.

The pain nearly doubled her over and for a moment, she couldn’t even catch her breath.

The instant everyone spotted her, the conversation and noise died as though an off switch had been flipped. Marc’s gaze landed on her, and he shoved Lacey away from him.

“ML.” He started toward her.

“Don’t come near me. Don’t come anywhere close to me.”

She ran from the dressing room, barely avoiding all the obstacles on the floor, tears clogging her throat and blinding her eyes. She should have known the exhilarating joy ride would come to a crashing halt. Didn’t they always? How long could you safely ride the edge of danger, anyway?

This one?

She’d hoped it would be forever. What a stupid fool she was.

“ML!”

She heard him shout her name, but she just kept on until she got to the back door and slammed out into the parking lot. Her hands were shaking so badly she could hardly fish her car keys out of her jeans pocket. She was fumbling with the lock on the door when he caught up with her, grabbing her and pulling her around to face him.

“Stop,” he said, breathing hard. “Listen to me.”

But when she looked at him, she saw the bright red imprint of Lacey’s lipstick on his face and she felt sick to her stomach. She jerked her arm free, stumbling against the car.

“Get away from me. Just…get away from me.”

She finally got the door unlocked and herself inside. Marc was still trying to hang on to the door when she backed out of the parking space, but she floored the accelerator and knocked him to the ground. By the time she was out of the lot and onto the street, the tears had broken free in earnest, flooding her eyes to the point she couldn’t see. She turned into a gas station, stopping at the far side of the building, and sat there while the sobs ripped out of her as if yanked by a giant fist.

After a long time the waterworks eased and she mopped her face with tissues from the glove box. Her throat was raw and her body ached all over.

I was so afraid of this. Afraid he’d realize we weren’t meant for each other and want Lacey instead. Or someone like her. I was fooling myself all the time.

Lacey hinted to her they had a history and the clinch made it obvious. Anyway, the redhead was far more savvy, far more experienced than Emma. She’d just swooped in and picked up wherever it was she and Marc had left off.

The image flashed across her mind again, and tears well up once more. Lord, hadn’t she cried enough already?

Maybe I should have waited for him to explain.

Yeah? Explain what? Everyone in the room knew what was going on. They’re probably all laughing at me. Damn rock musicians, anyway.

She had no idea how long she sat beside the darkened building, wondering if she would be able to drive home.