The Rocker Who Holds Her (The Rocker 5)

“We need to talk,” I said, grinding my teeth.

A dark brow lifted. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” I pushed past her into the disaster of a trailer that Emmie had to live in. There were beer bottles tossed here and there, overflowing ash trays with things much stronger than what she was currently smoking stinking up the air, and even a few needles abandoned on the coffee table in front of the old couch.

Jesse, Drake, and Shane followed me inside. Jesse took Emmie down the hall to put Emmie into bed while we made a deal with the Devil.

Chapter 3

A Deep Sigh Of Relief

I wouldn’t say that things got better after our stop in Ohio, but they didn’t get any worse.

After setting things up so that Emmie’s mother would have plenty of money to keep her drugged out of her mind for the most part—and keep Emmie off her mind—Emmie’s homelife became a little safer. We all called her several times a day, and I was doing better emotionally since we were now talking like we used to.

Even with the medication, my mom wasn’t doing any better. More often than not she didn’t know who I was when I went to visit her. But other than the dementia, she didn’t look unhealthy. The nurses were taking exceptional care of her and that made me sleep a little easier at night, especially when I was off touring with the guys.

Our name was getting out there. Our second album in three years had gone triple platinum. We were winning music awards and having our songs added to movies and television shows. I was starting to write more and fans were going crazy for my songs. I didn’t know I had such a passion for songwriting, but I was pretty talented.

Three years had flown by so quickly. There hadn’t been any downtime since our rocker life had started, and we were all feeling the need for a vacation. At the moment we were halfway through a tour with OtherWorld. Of all the bands we had toured with over the last few years OtherWorld was the most interesting.

We had all become friends, but we kind of adopted Axton into our brotherhood. If we were touring with him, he was on our bus more often than his own. OtherWorld wasn’t nearly as close as we were. With Demon’s Wings, we weren’t just bandmates, we were brothers. We had grown up together, seen each other at our lowest, and stuck together through the harshest of times. Jesse, Drake, Shane, and Emmie were my family—all I had in the world now that my mom was checking out in the mind department.

There were three hours to go before Demon’s Wings were scheduled to take the stage. I was sitting on the long couch backstage drinking a beer and tossing my phone up and catching it. I was bored out of my fucking mind. Shane was off getting cozy with two girls that had snuck backstage, while his brother was getting cozy with another bottle of Jack Daniels. Who knew where Jesse was, because really it could have been anyone’s guess. He could have been getting lost between some girl’s legs or off causing trouble with Liam and Zander.

When my phone rang I knew who it was. Knew that she was calling to tell me how her day was. Emmie and high school were not mixing well. For one, she didn’t do the whole friend thing with girls. Most of the girls that she went to school with knew that Emmie was under our protection, so they only ever approached her in hopes of getting to approach us. And… well… Emmie was strong willed with a temper to match her hair, and a mind that saw everything from every angle.

I was smiling as I hit connect on my cellphone and lifted it to my ears. “Hey, baby doll. How’s my favorite girl?”

Instead of jumping into bitching about her day she was quiet. I could feel her tension even over the phone. My stomach bottomed out as I tried to keep all the possibilities out of mind—Emmie hurt, broken, bleeding. If her mother had dared to hurt Emmie again I would tear her apart this time.

“Em?” I croaked out.

“Momma’s dead. She overdosed.” Her voice was devoid of all emotions. It was like I was talking to a robotic Emmie. “I called the cops, but they said it could take them a while to get the paramedics out here to get the body…”

I was already on my feet, already mentally making a list of what had to be done. “Are you okay? Where are you now?”

“At the trailer… but the cops said social services will be coming to get me soon…”

I started jogging, the urgency to get back to Ohio hitting the red zone now. I couldn’t let social services take Emmie. I would never see her again. She would get lost in the system. And only god knew what would happen to her in a foster home. “I’m coming. We will be there by tonight.” Even if I had to hire a private jet to get me there I was going to be there that night. “Hide. Do you hear me, Em? Hide. Don’t let them take you.”

“Okay.” She sounded so calm and I figured she was in shock.

I didn’t want to but I hung up. I found Jesse and Drake down the corridor hanging with Axton, Liam, and Zander. They were passing a bottle of Jack between them and laughing about something. Zander I liked, while Liam was a hit or miss for me most days. He had a borderline drug problem that I couldn’t wrap my head around. Drugs were something I hadn’t ever touched and didn’t ever plan to. Emmie’s mother’s drug use had made her life hell and I wasn’t ever going to do that to her.

When Jesse saw me he frowned. “What’s with you?”

“Emmie.” That was all I had to say and he and Drake were on red alert. “We have to go. Now.” I would explain to them on the plane. Right then I had other things to deal with. I looked at Axton. “We’re out. Don’t know when we can make it back.”

“Yeah, sure, man. Go deal with your family. I’ll take care of fuck-face Branson.”

Finding Shane was easy enough. First bathroom we came to and I could hear the girls moaning. I didn’t waste time. Just walked on in. With one on her knees and the other sitting on the edge of the sink with Shane’s hands between her legs they were obviously having a good time. “Emmie needs us. Let’s go.”

Shane pushed the girl on her knees away and stuffed himself back into his jeans. “I’m coming.”

“No you aren’t,” the blonde still on her knees giggled.

“Shut up, bitch,” the brunette on the sink told her friend.

It took us four hours to get to Ohio once we got the plane sorted. It was nearly nine-thirty by the time we pulled up in front of the old trailer that belonged to Emmie. There was a cop car sitting in the gravel driveway close to the front door. The trailer was dark but the cop was sitting on the front steps with a woman that had a clipboard in her hands.