Blame it on the Bass: Heart of Fame, Book 6 Read online

  Deep in his gut, grief and sorrow broiled.

  He pulled a slow breath, fixing his friend in a steady look. “Jax,” he said.

  “Yeah?”

  The concern in the keyboardist’s voice tangled in Levi’s guilt. He shook his head. “Never mind.” Turning to Corbin, he kept his own voice modulated. “Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t let them engage you. Ready?”

  Dark, turbulent emotion flared in Corbin’s eyes. “Levi—”

  Levi clenched his jaw. “I know. I’m a heartless prick. Now can we go?”

  He pulled open the apartment door without waiting for Corbin to answer.

  By the time they’d made it to the taxi, shielded from the paparazzi by Jax’s beefy bodyguard, the only sound Levi could focus on was the roaring in his head.

  It grew louder the closer they drew to the hospital. Somewhere, in a detached part of his mind, he heard the news on the cab’s radio talk about, “the unknown female companion of musician, Levi Levistan and Hollywood screenwriter, Corbin Smith.” He heard the reporter state she was, “fleeing from paparazzi outside Levistan and Smith’s Woolloomooloo wharf apartment when hit by the car”. Heard the cabby ask if either he or Corbin knew of the woman and the famous men she was screwing at the same time seeing as they lived near the wharf where the hit and run had occurred.

  Whatever Corbin said, Levi didn’t hear. The roaring in his head had become a deafening scream again. A scream so like his father’s incensed rage. A scream that hid a childhood of cajoling apologies and sickening, wrong pleas for forgiveness.

  And yet inside that screaming roar, inside the icy numbness enveloping him, Levi fought for a voice. A warmth.

  A memory of the joy he’d given himself over to last night. The love of a trusting man, the feisty spunk of a woman.

  If only he could—

  The taxi stopped.

  Levi flinched again when Corbin reached for his hand. “The media’s here, babe.”

  He looked past Corbin’s shoulder through the cab’s grimy window. Outside, loitering near the main entry doors to the hospital, like a pack of soulless ghouls, were the reporters.

  “Do you know if there’s a back entry?” he heard Corbin ask the driver.

  Levi shook his head. “No.”

  Without another word, he pushed open the door and climbed from the taxi.

  The media ran at him, microphones thrust out, weapons of mass degradation. He ground his teeth and walked through them. It wasn’t until he was in the foyer did he realized he’d been gripping Corbin’s hand the whole time.

  He looked down at the fingers threaded through his. Blinked at them. When had he done that? Why had he done that?

  “Guess you’re not as heartless as you think you are.”

  He jerked his stare up, finding Corbin’s gaze. Finding his lover’s small wry smile. A twinge of warmth licked at the cold in his soul. He drew in a slow breath. Licked his lips. “Corbin,” he said, his voice dry. “I—”

  “Mr. Levistan? Mr. Smith?” A man appeared at their side, wearing a suit and a furrowed frown. “A Mr. Jaxon Campbell called the hospital a few moments ago and informed us you would be arriving shortly. You are here to see the woman struck by the car?”

  “Sonja Stone,” Corbin said. “Yes.” The steel in his answer, threaded with concern and unmistakable love, sheared through Levi.

  The man in the suite nodded. “Come with me please. She’s been moved to intensive care in a private room.” He turned and strode away, his pace fast.

  With a squeeze of Levi’s hand, Corbin followed.

  What felt like a hundred corridors and turns later, the man—Dr. Killen, Head Administrator—lead them into a room filled with that surreal mix of suffocating silence and mechanical beeps only heard in hospital rooms.

  A nurse stood beside a raised bed, adjusting the drip leading into the bandaged, motionless Sonja lying on it.

  Levi froze, staring at the woman who, only a few hours ago, had been impaled on his cock as he and Corbin made love to her and each other.

  “Shit,” Corbin whispered beside him.

  One eye and half her face was covered in bandages. The other eye was swollen, bruises a molted mess of purple and red over her cheek and jaw. Black stitches ran from inside her bottom lip out to her chin. Grazes and gashes covered her exposed skin. Her right leg was set in a cast from hip to toe. A clear tube extended from inside her nose, taped to her nostril with stark, white plaster.

  “Shit,” Corbin repeated.

  “She was struck by an SVU at seven a.m. this morning,” the doctor spoke in a low voice, as if afraid to wake her. “The police have arrested the driver and I’m told the photographers who were pursuing her are also being questioned.”

  “Is she going to be okay?” Corbin gripped Levi’s hand with painful pressure. Levi didn’t stop him.

  Dr. Killen released a slow sigh. “The next forty-eight hours will be critical. She’s suffered internal damage and unfortunately, we were forced to remove her spleen. Cat-scans have revealed bruising of the brain along with a fractured skull, but thankfully there’s no evidence of an edema.”

  “Jesus,” Levi whispered, staring at Sonja’s motionless form.

  The smells of the hospital, the sounds, sank into his being, reminding him of the last time he was here. Their baby daughter’s death. The loss of his future. The breakdown of his and Corbin’s relationship…

  He swallowed, sicken grief strangling him. Stinging heat welled behind his eyes. In his head, the roaring grew louder.

  “Unfortunately,” Dr. Killen’s voice grew concerned, “she slipped into a coma post-op. I have assigned my best doctors to her, but at this point it is, perhaps, for the best. Her body has taken over her recovery.”

  “Is she going to…” Levi stopped. Swiped at his mouth. He couldn’t say it. Instead, he held Corbin’s hand tighter.

  Dr. Killen made a noise Levi didn’t like. Not one little bit. “I’m not going to lie to you, Mr. Levistan. She is critical. It depends on Ms. Stone. Is she a fighter?”

  “Fucken oath,” Levi burst out.

  The nurse flicked him a quick look.

  “She’s…spirited,” Corbin offered, the word soft. Calm. Full of life and happiness and hope. In that one brief second, Levi couldn’t love him any more.

  Nor need him more.

  And the screaming roar in his head, his father’s tirade and lies and sick demands grew fainter. Less…consuming.

  “Spirited is good,” Dr. Killen said with a warm smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I will leave you both with her.”

  “Both?” Corbin’s question echoed Levi’s surprise.

  The doctor’s smile grew a little. “I am familiar with who you both are, Mr. Smith. And I’ve been informed—by numerous people in here—who Ms. Stone is to you. I am aware of your relationship.”

  “And our fame?” Levi asked. “Is that the reason for bending the rules and allowing us in here with her? In this situation, I’m sure only family would normally be allowed in this room, no?”

  Dr. Killen’s smile grew self-deprecating. “It would be foolish of me to deny I’m a fan of Nick Blackthorne’s music, and Occasional is one of my favourite films. But no, neither of you are in here because of your celebrity status. Rather, you are in here because Jaxon Campbell told me if I didn’t allow you in he would personally make my life a living hell. I’m not exactly sure what a rock star can do to a doctor to make his life so heinous, but in this case, I’m not going to risk it.”

  With a nod, and a worried glance at the hovering nurse, he left.

  The nurse glared at Levi, narrowed her eyes at Corbin and then, with a final check of the drip leading into Sonja’s arm, exited the room.

  Leaving Levi and Corbin alone with her.

  “Jesus, why did this… Why her?” Corbin asked, crossing to her side. He looked up at Levi, his face pale. “I know you’d rather me not go on about it, would rather I shut up and deal with it, but I can’t. I need
to know you’re feeling…” he waved his hands in front of his chest, his fingers splayed, “…feeling…this. Pain. Fear. Confusion.” He looked straight into Levi’s eyes, wretched worry swimming in his. “If you are, Levi, I need you to share it with me. Please?”

  Levi studied his partner, his throat tight. He swallowed, every fibre in his body charged. On fire. Fighting against the numbing terror. Sliding his gaze to Sonja, he crossed to the bed and, gentle, reverently, slipped his fingers beneath her limp ones. “I…” he began. And stopped, shaking his head. His chest ached, like it was being crushed. His breath choked him.

  “Levi, don’t let this destroy us.” The pleading request, uttered with such calm control, flayed Levi’s senses.

  He ran his gaze over Sonja’s battered face, numb grief scored by decades of repressed emotions and ingrained fear. “Do you believe in fate, Cor?”

  “I do,” his lover answered, his voice a low murmured.

  “Do you think Sonny was brought into our lives to save us? When Bella was taken from us, do you think fate gave us Sonny to heal our pain?”

  “I think Sonja was born to save us, babe.” Soft joy danced on Corbin’s answer. “She found you first and then, years later, you found her. When you needed her life, her energy, Fate placed her where you would find her. That’s not just a coincidence. That’s destiny.”

  Levi closed his eyes, brushing his thumb over Sonja’s fingers. “She saved me more than she ever knew when we were teenagers. She…” He scrunched up his face. “She protected me often without even knowing she was doing so.”

  “Protected you from what?”

  Letting out a ragged breath, Levi lifted his stare to the man he loved. “My father abused me when I was a child. It started when I was five. It stopped…” He closed his eyes. Squeezed them shut. The roaring in his head had returned. Tore at his sanity. Threatened to unmake him.

  He saw his father standing over him. Felt his big fists slam into his stomach. Felt his booted foot smash against his ribs.

  Felt his insidious hands push down his jeans and slide into his underpants. Felt his hot, wet breath on the back of his neck as he—

  Grinding his teeth, Levi opened his eyes and gazed at Corbin, holding Sonja fingers as he did so. “My father abused me physically and sexually for fourteen years. From when I was five right up until I moved out at nineteen. If I showed him any emotion at all, fear, sadness, anger, he would beat me until I could hardly stand. And then, at night, driven by guilt, he would come into my bedroom and apologise. Except his apologies were as wrong and as sick as his beatings.”

  Corbin stared at him. Stunned sorrow filled his eyes.

  “I was a shit when Sonny and I dated at school,” Levi went on, ignoring the incensed roar in his mind, focusing instead on the warmth in Sonja’s fingers, the compassion in his lover’s eyes. “But Christ, I needed her. I couldn’t let her see that, was too terrified of letting my emotions out. But whenever I was with her I felt happy. When we were together at home, when she was there with me, making me laugh, I felt safe. There were times when she was there in the living room with me I could see…I could see in Dad’s eyes what he wanted to do…to me. When that happened, when I knew what was going to happen when she left, I held onto her like she was the only…”

  He paused. Drew a slow breath. “She protected me but I could never tell her from what. I think she suspected. I think that’s why she put up with my shit for so long. Why she defied her parents often to stay at my house way past her curfew. I think she wanted to...to help me. But I never completely let her.” He shook his head and lowered his gaze to her once more. “I kept pushing her away, even as I wanted to hold her forever.”

  Raising his head, he looked at Corbin. “Which is what I’ve been doing to you, isn’t it? I love you more than I can say, so much it makes my heart ache, and yet…and yet I push you away. I don’t want to do that ever again.”

  Corbin didn’t say anything. Just studied him.

  With a wry chuckle, Levi smiled. “I think it’s time I admit to myself how fucked up I am. I think it’s time I stop punishing those I love for what my father did to me and accept I need to see a counselor. Or a shrink. Someone, anyone, who will help me. And I know, here…” he tapped his heart with his free hand, “…that if it wasn’t for you, and Sonja, I’d never be able to admit that. If it wasn’t for how much you love me, and for how much Sonja challenges me, I’d never accept I need help.”

  He stopped again. Drew another slow breath. His heart, his very soul ached, flayed and lashed and wounded by emotions he’d long denied. Long feared. But that very fact, the fact he could feel his heart ache so much, at this point in time, at this very moment, told him more than the fading silence in his head ever could.

  He was not only acknowledging his emotions, he was sharing them.

  Perhaps, after a lifetime of denying he felt anything and refusing to allow anyone into his wounded heart, he was finally letting himself heal.

  With Corbin and Sonja’s help.

  He shrugged, letting Corbin see—for the first time ever—his hope and fear and anguish. “It’s a start, yes?”

  “It’s a perfect start,” Corbin answered with a smile. “Perfect.”

  Levi snorted, flicking Sonja a quick look. “Now all we need is for Sonny to wake up so we can convince her to stay with us.”

  Corbin’s nostrils flared. “Forever?”

  Tight heat wrapped around Levi’s chest. “Is that what you want? A triad relationship? Me, you and her?”

  Corbin nodded. “It is. More than I can say. Which is pretty woeful, given I’m a wordsmith, right?”

  Levi couldn’t stop his shaky laugh. “There once was a gay man called Corbin.”

  “Who…who…” Corbin shook his head. “Nope, can’t think of a single word to rhyme with Corbin.”

  Reaching across Sonja, Levi caught Corbin’s hand in his.

  They stayed that way for the rest of the day. Jax arrived sometime in the afternoon, his bodyguard trailing behind, glaring at all the nurses. He delivered messages of prayers and well wishes from the rest of the band. Nick called in the early evening, asking what he could do.

  Flowers arrived in the room, delivered by the tsking, dour-faced nurse who seemed to blame them both for Sonja’s condition if the glares were anything to judge by. Dr. Killen returned often, keeping them both up to date with the situation.

  They sat in the room, talking quietly, when Sonja was wheeled away for new scans. They drew comfort from each other in her absence.

  When visiting hours ended and they were ordered from the room by the nurse, Corbin took her aside and whispered something in her ear. Levi watched her expression change from surly to irritated. And yet she huffed from the room without another glance at them.

  Levi frowned from his chair beside Sonja’s bed. “What did you say to her?”

  Corbin grinned. “Said I was writing a new movie set in a hospital and wondered if I could use her name for the nurse who turns out to be a serial killer slowly poisoning her patients.”

  Levi raised his eyebrows. “Subtle.”

  “Effective.”

  Three days later, despite Jax smuggling in sustenance in the form of take-out food and Chivas Regal, and his bodyguard scaring away any paparazzi who gained access to the room via fake flower delivery, Levi found himself awash with bleak despair.

  There had been no improvement in Sonja’s condition.

  Resting his forehead on the edge of her bed, he held her hand and stared at his feet. “If you don’t wake up soon, Sonny,” he whispered, “I’m going to be pissed at you. I didn’t give you permission to clock out on us, and if this is your fucked-up way of removing the band aid, then your way sucks. Do you hear me? Wake the fuck up, Sonny, so we can take you home. Understand?”

  “Do you think she’s going to argue with us?” Corbin asked from the other side of the bed. “About moving in? Living with us? Sharing our bed?”

  Levi shook his head
against the mattress. “We’ll convince her.” He looked up, giving his lover a small smile. “Even if we have to tie her up and make love to her constantly until she says yes. She belongs with us. Hell, you went bi for her. She’s not getting away from us again.”

  “I’ll…make…” a soft, husky rasp whispered from the bed, “…you a deal.”

  Levi snapped his stare to Sonja’s face, a rush of joy crashing through him at the sight of her bruised, split lips curling into the smallest, weakest of smiles.

  “What’s that?” he asked, forcing his voice to remain calm.

  “If you both…” she said, un-bandaged eye still closed, the words little more than a breath, “…promise to…lower the toilet seat lid…” she paused and ran her tongue over her bottom lip with a grimace, “…when you’re finished…in the loo, we’ll…give it a try.”

  “Deal.” Corbin laughed.

  She squeezed Levi’s fingers with gentle pressure. “And I want orgasms…lots of them. Often. From…you both.”

  Levi lifted his gaze to Corbin and smiled. “Deal,” he murmured.

  Epilogue

  Two weeks in hospital sucked. Big time.

  The food sucked, the bed was uncomfortable and, at some point since being slammed into by a car while running from the paparazzi, someone had decided she was a celebrity and every damn media outlet, news program, magazine and gossip website wanted to interview her.

  That meant every time Sonja woke up from a doze—some of which were morphine-induced—there were new vases or bunches of flowers scattered around her room, or baskets of gifts or hampers of gourmet food. Why a person who’d barely survived being hit by a SUV, resulting in a ridiculous number of broken bones, major bruising on the brain and a sudden need for the removal of her spleen, was worth all the media attention was beyond Sonja. As was the necessity to send her small jars and packets of expensive food she was never going to eat. But apparently that’s what the media did when they wanted her to talk to them about her experience.

  She’d answered every single request with a simple answer. Talk to my agent.

  She didn’t have an agent, but she didn’t tell those wanting to interview her that. She’d passed more than one boring, pain-soaked afternoon on the path to recovery imagining the frantic search for her non-existent agent undertaken by said media types desperate for the big story.