Between Breaths (The Seattle Sound Series Book 2) Read online

  “I wish I was there with you. Can I call you later?” My voice rose over the pounding on my door, but the fists kept hammering away.

  “You should focus on your tour, Hayden.”

  “I’ll call you. I want to hear about your meeting.”

  “Bye,” Briar said.

  I yanked the door open. “What?” I snapped.

  “We have a problem,” Ets snarled as he, Jake, and Flip entered my suite.

  “Oh good. Something new.”

  They sprawled across the couches in the living area.

  “That melody you played when you were dicking around last night?” Jake said. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

  “At our sold-out venue,” Ets muttered. “For our world tour. For our band.”

  I jerked a nod, confused.

  “It’s gotten over a hundred million views,” Flip said, his eyes warming with a smile. “Cynthia said your declaration was romantic, by the way.”

  My mouth dropped open, much like a fish yanked from its cool pond.

  “So now we’ve got to figure out where to put that song into the repertoire,” Ets said. He looked like he’d sucked a lime without the tequila.

  “That pisses you off?” I asked, facing him.

  “It’s not a Jackaroo song.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. I agreed. It wasn’t something Ets would’ve wanted on the album. I got that. My gaze flicked to Flip, who rolled his eyes. I met Jake’s stare, and he was stoic. Never one to pick sides, Jake idolized his older brother and wasn’t taking Ets’s bad humor in stride. I got that, too.

  “Okay,” I said. “So we add it to the set list.”

  “Some woman blogger dubbed it Briar’s song,” Jake offered.

  “Catchy,” Flip said with a wink.

  “Original,” I said, straight-faced. “But the song’s called ‘Between Breaths.’”

  “We’ve got to put it either first or at the end,” Ets said with a scowl. “The fans will demand it.”

  “Did you want to add some guitar to it?” I asked. Keeping Ets happy made my life simpler.

  Ignoring my question, with a bitter tone he said, “They love it.”

  Ah, there it was, the jealousy.

  “I intended for the melody to have guitar and lyrics. But I’ll play the tune whenever we agree to it.”

  “Play it first. Then it’s done,” Ets said, standing. He didn’t meet my gaze.

  Jake shrugged at my raised brow, refusing to answer my silent request for his opinion. “Dunno, mate. Seems like you run a risk either way. That’s what comes from improvising in front of twenty thousand people.”

  I faced Flip, my stomach churning. His eyes were narrowed and he rubbed a finger up and down his nose, a sure sign he was deep in thought. He nodded. “First is good. With the rest of us, of course. We’ll add a bit at each performance. Tell the fans we’re building the tune based on their feedback.”

  I nodded though my stomach had just resettled somewhere near my knees. “Good idea. Keep the focus on the music. Where it should be.”

  Ets scowled.

  “You can go out and play the song, and then we can come on and segue into one of our ballads,” Flip said. “That’ll be a nice transition. Build the tempo and the crowd.”

  Ets walked to the door and pulled it open. “We’ll practice the first verse at sound check. Don’t pull shit like this again.”

  Jake followed his brother out the door, the good little puppy always at heel.

  “Was that as bad as I think it was?” I asked Flip.

  “Ets is heaps jealous.” He sauntered to the door. Patting his palm against it a few times, he frowned. “You’re in a tight spot, mate.”

  I shut the door. Damned if I knew what to think of my convo with Briar or just now with my mates.

  Chapter 34

  Briar

  “You didn’t have to come with me,” I said again.

  Asher tugged a piece of my hair just behind my ear. I smiled. He was so playful sometimes. The big brother I’d never had.

  “Sure we did,” he said. “No way you were getting out of there without me blazing a trail through the ever-growing media presence. Who knew you’d be the ‘it’ girl of the year.”

  “But you have better things to do than babysit me.”

  “Just buying a house,” Lia said, waving her hand. “We can do that tomorrow just as easily.” The smile slid off her lips. “Why is he here?”

  I glanced up, my throat tight. I hadn’t talked to Ken in nearly two weeks—and that had been just fine. “He’s Rosie’s nephew. I should probably go say hello.”

  Lia shook her head. “You are not talking to The Asshole.”

  “Lovely to see you, too, Lia.”

  She turned to face Ken, her face devoid of any emotion. I wished I’d mastered that skill. It unnerved him, and he always tripped over himself to be nicer than he would otherwise.

  “Ken,” she said. “I can’t say the same.”

  Asher chuckled as he slipped his arm around Lia’s waist. He leaned down and whispered something in her ear. She smiled, shook her head.

  “We’ll be over there, keeping an eye on you,” Lia said, tipping her head toward the other side of the seating area.

  “You brought the entire army this time. For me?” Ken asked, his voice filled with irony.

  “Large egos are not attractive,” I said, eyes darting around the room. “They usually hide small other things.”

  He smiled, all enigmatic. “In this case, you’d know that’s not true. That’s not the reason I’m here—fun as it is to spar with you. According to the paper, she seems to have left you the bulk of her estate.” He narrowed those icy gray eyes. “I told you not to go gold digger, Briar.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Is this why you proposed? Tried to get me pregnant so I’d be trapped into marrying you? To keep the money in the family?”

  “How much?”

  “I take that as a yes. So Aunt Rosie held the purse strings. You assumed you’d get her fortune either directly or through me. If she left it to me.” I held up my hand to keep him quiet. “I don’t know that she did. That’s why I’m here. Because her lawyer wants to talk to me about the details of her will.”

  Ken’s Nordic Sea eyes caught mine. I used to find that seductive, having his whole attention. Now I realized he catalogued my features, doing his best to gauge my reaction so he could recalibrate his attack. And that’s what it would be—a full-on emotional assault.

  Hayden hadn’t played games with me. Yes, he’d hurt me, worse than Ken ever could, but at least he’d always been honest.

  He’d sounded contrite, worried even, on the phone yesterday. I was still reeling from his YouTube confession and Rosie’s death. I wasn’t sure how much more I could handle this week.

  “She cared about you,” Ken said, moving in closer.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lia tense, half out of her chair. Asher put his hand on her knee.

  “Just like I did,” he continued. “You leaving me like that hastened her decline.”

  Ken was such an asshole. “You don’t get to say that,” I said, turning my head away. “Or anything else like it to me. Ever.”

  “Having a hard time with your conscience there, Briar?” His words were soft, his tone meant to convey sympathy.

  I jabbed him with my finger. Not that my puny attempt to get his attention did much good. He might not be as big as Hayden, but he was solid.

  “I spent hours every day with Rosie for the last days of her life. You visited exactly one time, Ken. And let’s not forget that I left you when I found out you’d tried to bribe my pharmacist.”

  “Which I wouldn’t have done if you’d been enough for me. But you insisted on being an icy bitch.”

  That hurt. Badly.

  “You’ll always be my biggest mistake.” I turned to leave, but Ken’s hand wrapped around my biceps, his fingers digging tight into my skin. He yanked hard.
<
br />   “No, that musician was your biggest mistake,” he hissed. “Made you look like a lovesick slut. Who’d want those leftovers?”

  He’d hurt me, and he’d continue to pound on the spot. His triumphant smile lit his eyes, the pale irises darkening. Until Asher shoved him back. Hard.

  I turned, wide-eyed, to stare at Asher.

  “Why did you do that?” I asked.

  “You don’t grab a woman. Let alone speak to her like that.” Asher tilted his head. “The receptionist is calling security.” The girl, who was maybe twenty-four, was on the phone, her eyes open wide.

  “Good. I’m suing you, Asher.”

  Asher folded his arms over his chest, his gaze dropping to the raised, angry skin on my arm. “I’d like to see you try,” he said.

  “I can’t believe you shoved him,” I said.

  “Hanging out with riffraff,” Ken sniffed. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You were always beneath me, Briar.”

  “I can’t believe he talked to you like that.” Asher narrowed his gaze. “Just goes to show for all his calm God-itude, Kenneth doesn’t know the first thing about women.”

  “We’re not doing this,” I said, stepping between them. I turned to Lia, begging her for help.

  “Don’t look at me,” she said. “I wanted to hit him. What kind of man runs his mouth about a relationship when he doesn’t have the whole story?” She glared, her gray eyes flinty. “Asshole.”

  Ken rounded on Lia. “I’m the asshole? You’re supposed to be a writer. Surely you can engage your limited vocabulary to find a more descriptive word.”

  “Asshole connotes the most succinct description of my opinion,” Lia shot back.

  My arm throbbed nearly as much as my head. I placed my hand on Lia’s arm. “Don’t engage him. Please.”

  The lawyer, John Henderson, cleared his throat. Surprise trickled down my spine. I’d met him before—as Rosie’s date. “Jeannette, have security show Dr. Brenton out. And Dr. Brenton? There were multiple witnesses, plus my video system. I’d think again about suing. You might want to think how it’ll look to the hospital board to see you manhandling a woman who’s spent weeks at your aunt’s side.”

  He raised an eyebrow, waited. Ken clenched his jaw but stepped back away from me. Asher relaxed. Mr. Henderson turned his attention back to me, his smile warm.

  “Lovely, to see you again, Ms. Moore. Won’t you come into my office?”

  “I’d like my sister and her boyfriend to come in with me.”

  “Of course,” Mr. Henderson said, including Lia and Asher in his smile.

  Lia grabbed my uninjured arm and pulled me into the lawyer’s office. Asher trailed behind, the world’s most talented bodyguard.

  Mr. Henderson inclined his head and we stepped into his office. “I’m sorry, Ms. Moore. I didn’t know Dr. Brenton would be here.”

  I rubbed the place where he’d grabbed my arm. “I’m okay.”

  “Glad to hear. So . . . ” Mr. Henderson took his seat at the head of the conference table. He gestured to the rest of us and we sat, me on one side, Asher and Lia on the other. “Mrs. Douglas made a lot of changes to her will over the past few years. The largest was after she met you about three years ago.”

  I nodded, unsure what to say.

  “She made some more during the last month of her life, and those might be contested. I understand from Dr. Brenton she was receiving large doses of narcotics to counteract the pain. That portion of the will may drag out. But you needn’t worry. The bulk of your inheritance is untouchable.”

  I gaped. Lia leaned forward and gripped my cold fingers. “What, exactly, are you saying?”

  Finding my voice, I said, “I loved Rosie for herself. I don’t need her money.”

  Mr. Henderson smiled. “She knew that. Just as she knew you wouldn’t do certain things without a nudge. So I’ll jump right on in.” He picked up his glasses and then handed me a copy of the will. I scanned the document quickly.

  “Holy mcmoley.” I couldn’t have read that right.

  “As you see, about a third of Rosie’s assets go to you. Another third to her nephew, Kenneth Brenton, and the last third goes to the hospital’s cancer wing. But Rosie wanted you to have that money—the money originally designated to the hospital—as well. To start a grief and counseling group through the hospital and the hospice center where she died.”

  I nodded, my throat tight. “I don’t need that money.”

  “Well, the will’s all legal, so the money’s yours.” Mr. Henderson smiled, quite pleased with the outcome. “You’ll take home about six million after all the taxes. Death is an expensive business. The hospital will do better as it’s a bequest.”

  “But . . . that’s so much.”

  “She also left you her condo. I’ve talked to Dr. Reid—he’s in charge of the cancer center at the hospital. He’s happy to split the money with you for the counseling program. He’s very excited about the potential there, actually.”

  “That’s just . . . wow.” I sat back in the chair, trying to process what he’d told me. I shook my head. “No, I don’t think I can accept this.”

  Mr. Henderson leaned forward, his fingers linked. “Rosie worried you’d respond this way. She told me to tell you there was no one more deserving than you. If that wasn’t enough, I was supposed to give you this.”

  He held out a white envelope. I let my fingers glide over Rosie’s handwriting, taking a deep breath to steady my leaping pulse.

  Slitting the top with Mr. Henderson’s letter opener, I unfolded the single sheet of paper.

  I want you to make others as peaceful during their last days as you made me. And I want you to kiss that cute piano player back to his senses. The way he looked at you. Whew! Brought back glorious memories.

  No more whining, Briar Anne. You have people to help. Use my money to do it. Please.

  Rosie Douglas

  P.S. I told John you can only keep the condo as long as you keep Princess. That cat loves you, and you know she hates everyone, including me. Part of her charm. I expect you to keep her on the fresh fish diet she’s become accustomed to. You do know how to spoil a cat, and an old woman. I love you, daughter of my heart.

  I glanced up at the date. She’d written the letter five days ago. The day after Hayden left.

  “When did she change her will?”

  “Right after you and Dr. Brenton stopped seeing each other. She said now she could finally trust your judgment.” I caught the twinkle behind the thick wire-rimmed glasses.

  “Of course. And I’m happy to keep Princess.”

  Was I? I worried the tip of my thumbnail. I was. I loved the moody fur ball, liked having someone greet me at the end of the day.

  Glancing back down at the note, I stared at the words. Rosie asked me to do this—something I really wanted. I slid the note across the table because Lia vibrated with desperate need to know what it said.

  “Ken can’t touch the will?”

  “He’s already trying to contest it, and he doesn’t even know what it says. Just what the papers reported about you. Lovely picture by the way. I think Rosie would be touched.”

  I hugged my arm across my body, looking over to see Asher lean in closer to Lia. Longing welled up inside of me; I wanted what Lia and Asher shared. I wanted that with Hayden. But keeping him at a distance was the safe choice—the don’t-get-hurt-again actions I’d become so good at over the years.

  He’d told the world he loved me, but I didn’t think he meant it. If he had, he’d be here with me now. When I needed him. Instead, he was with his band, touring the world, snuggling blondes. The ache built in my chest, an anchor of grief that wouldn’t allow me to breathe, to think, clearly.

  Lia’s bright gray gaze met mine over the top of the papers.

  “Dr. Brenton cannot win any kind of lawsuit,” Mr. Henderson said. “I’ve made sure of that. I’ll explain that to him when he comes in here in two hours. For our scheduled meeting.”

  We sa
t there in silence for a moment. Lia cuddled the papers in her hands. My sister was sensitive, always had been. Her ability to feel was what made her so good at writing her books, but it left her open to hurt. Doug, her first husband, never understood what made Lia tick, and he flailed her open because of her vulnerability. But with Asher . . . he took Lia’s hand, the slide of their palms an intimate experience. When she tipped her head back against his shoulder, I turned away.

  “Thank you, Mr. Henderson. I hope to see you at Rosie’s funeral.”

  “Of that there’s no doubt,” he said. His voice was thicker, heavier.

  I rose and held out my hand. He clasped it for a long moment, shaking with a firm but gentle gesture. Sadness crept over his cheeks and settled in deep.

  “She talked about you,” I said. “In her sleep. She always sounded so happy.”

  He nodded, his throat convulsing. “She refused to let me visit her. Said you were there, and she wanted my memories of her to be happy.”

  “I hope they were,” I said.

  Chapter 35

  Hayden

  “Ten till curtain,” Harry yelled.

  I moved to the back of the room, seeking as much privacy as I could, and called Briar. Early afternoon there now. Her meeting must be over.

  “Hayden.” She was out of breath.

  “How’d the meeting go?”

  “Tell you the truth, I’m in shock. Crap, hold on.” There was a shuffle of the phone against fabric and then feet running. People were yelling. Crikey, Briar must be out somewhere. The media bothered her still. “Okay, I’m in the building now.” Briar blew out a breath. “It’s getting harder to avoid them. Rosie’s funeral might well be a circus. She’d hate that.”

  “I want to be there. For you.” As I said the words, I’d never been more certain of anything.

  “Well, you’re not,” Briar said, always the pragmatist. Much as I loved that about her, the trait was currently irritating as hell. “Anyway, Rosie would be ignored, and it’ll be the last time most of her friends get to say goodbye.”

  How to explain some of the realizations I’d come to? “I didn’t understand how much Rosie meant to you, really, until I saw the picture that pap took of you splashed across every aggregator site. She’s important to you. I should be there, helping you through this. I fucking hate that I’m not.”