The Rocker Who Cherishes Me (The Rocker 8)

Which would leave Rhett Tomlinson in a body bag, along with anyone else who stepped in Devlin’s way.

“Look,” Linc met my gaze head on, ignoring Rhett and Natalie now, “you have nothing to worry about because Rhett is with me. Not Natalie and definitely not Marissa. He might act like he’s a lady killer, but that’s just his beard. He likes dick.” His lips lifted in a conceited grin. “Particularly my dick.” Rhett snorted, but didn’t deny it. “Maybe you should assure the beast now tearing the place down, before we wreck.”

If the bus shook when Devlin had slammed the door a few minutes ago it was nothing compared to what he was doing back there now. I heard the loud thuds as he continued to beat the walls with his fists and clenched my jaw as the bus swerved dangerously. Sighing, I stepped back from Marissa who clung for just a moment before releasing me, and led the way back to the roosts. Liam flanked me, with Zander bringing up the rear.

I had to force the door open because Devlin had warped it when he’d slammed it shut. Or maybe it was the dozen or so indentions of his fist in the door? Either way I had to use some serious muscle to get the door open. The sight I saw when I was finally able to step inside twisted my gut. Mattresses had been pulled out of roosts. Covers, sheets, pillows and even a stuffed animal were tossed around the sleeping area. There were holes in the walls and even a dent in the ceiling.

And all of that destruction had taken less than three or four minutes and he was still throwing things.

The bus started to slow more and then pulled off onto the side of the road. I knew what was coming. Knew that we had about sixty seconds before the fires of hell arrived and engulfed us with her rage. Emmie was going to bust balls as soon as she set foot on board this bus and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

“Do we have to stop him?” Zander asked, staring at the carnage in front of us. “The way this place looks and from the way he keeps throwing punches at the walls, I’m pretty sure that someone is gonna end up with a bloody nose and a black eye or two. And if Emmie goes in there and deals with him someone isn’t walking out alive. My money’s on the hot chick.”

So was mine.

The space we were standing in was narrow but Natalie suddenly appeared and pushed past us. When she was inside the sleeping area, she pushed me back and shut the door in my face. I blinked, not sure I’d just seen that little chick shut something so easily that had taken most of my strength to get open.

From the front of the bus I could hear Emmie already demanding to know what was going on and I shared a glance between the two bassists standing behind me. Did we go out there and deal with her or hide out right here? It might sound cowardly, but I’d rather face an army of enemy soldiers single handedly than one itty bitty redhead with big green eyes.

Chapter 9

Marissa

The sleeping area was a disaster, but after I helped Natalie put the beds back together all that was left were a bunch of dents and a few holes in the walls. I don’t know how Natalie had calmed Devlin down, but things had gotten very quiet back here not long after she had locked herself in with him. She’d either knocked him out or they’d had sex.

From the smug look on Devlin’s face when he’d walked out twenty minutes later, sex had definitely been the answer. By then I’d convinced Emmie that everything was okay and that she could go back to her own bus and we’d gotten back on the road. She’d given in because even the smallest delay would throw off tonight’s concert—and the possibility of Nik finding out what was going on aboard our bus would only get back to Drake and Shane and then there would be two homicidal rockers on the loose with two other rockers ready to back up their band brothers. Emmie didn’t like delays or having to make fans, who’d paid good money to see the bands she represented, have to wait even a few minutes longer than they had to. And she especially didn’t like having to bail her Demons out of jail, which had happened far too often with at least one of them. Jesse Thornton hadn’t always been the responsible man Layla had made him.

When we had pulled over, Axton had climbed on board and now the guys were all practicing in the living room. I lay down on my bed and listened to Axton’s voice and let it soothe me. I’d always liked Axton, but I liked him even more now. He was a different man with Dallas, a better man. He didn’t hide his feelings anymore, let people see what he was really thinking—mostly. The last tour he’d made sure that he and Dallas had their own bus so that she could relax while in her second trimester of pregnancy with Cannon. This tour they had their adopted daughter with them, Kenzie, who was helping out Emmie’s nannie by taking care of a few of the children when the parents were busy, so there were three of us who could help watch the kids during concerts.

Kenzie was a really sweet girl. She would be turning nineteen in a few weeks, but she still looked younger. Years in an orphanage, not getting enough to eat, had left the girl on the small side and no matter how much food you set in front of her she only ate smaller portions because it was so ingrained in her to do so. Kenzie had just finished her freshmen year at Knoxville’s University of Tennessee, where she was studying to be a special education teacher. Dallas had told me that Kenzie worked at a nursing home that was specifically for Down syndrome patients who had basically been abandoned by their families. Apparently the pay was little to nothing, but Kenzie was happy working there and that was all that mattered to Dallas and Axton.

From the front of the bus, a guitar solo started and I closed my eyes. Wroth’s pain earlier, seeing it shining from his eyes was like a beacon drawing me in. I’d been helpless to not comfort him. Maybe I’d been the only one to notice, but his voice had cracked just a little when he had said he’d killed men before. I knew he’d had to do some horrible things while in Afghanistan, knew that that time still haunted him. When I’d still lived at the farm with him, I’d been woken up countless times to the sounds of his nightmares. I knew better than to go to him though. The one and only time I’d gone to check on him, when I was seventeen, I’d ended up with my first and only black eye from his thrashing arms. When he’d woken up and seen what he’d done, he’d made me promise to never come back during one of his nightmares. I’d promised, but there had been times when it had taken everything inside of me to keep it.

I would never hold anything he had to do to survive against him; if anything, I was grateful he’d done those things. He’d been serving his country, making our country a safer place, but it had also brought him back to me. Sure I’d just been a kid at the time, but I’d loved him even then.