Rock Redemption by Nalini Singh
ROCK REDEMPTION
By Nalini Singh
New York Times Bestselling Author
Table of Contents
ROCK REDEMPTION
Broken
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Epilogue
Author's Note
Special Excerpt from ROCK COURTSHIP
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Other Books by Nalini Singh
Copyright Information
Broken
Kit smiled when the elevator doors opened as soon as she pressed the button. Stepping in with a thudding heart, she fought the urge to flat out grin. She was going to see Noah again! She hadn't made the concert despite her best efforts, but she knew he wouldn't mind. Noah had been her biggest supporter during her struggle to move from daytime-soap actress to the big screen.
Now she'd won a part in Last Flight, a movie based on a heartrending book set in the war-torn Congo. It had such a small budget that the wardrobe department was made up of clothes the actors and crew had brought in, but she could already tell the movie was going to be a stunning emotional journey. Though the Last Flight team hadn't been able to get permission to shoot at the location itself, they'd all soon be departing for another part of Africa that would stand in for the Congo in the location shots.
That trip would swallow up the majority of the budget.
Before that, the filmmakers were trying to shoot as many of the interior scenes as possible in as short a time as possible. The schedule was grueling, but Kit was in it for the long haul. Not only did she love the script, this movie might finally earn her the title of serious actress. For a woman who'd spent her entire career fighting not to be dismissed as a rich girl dabbling in the art, that meant everything.
After cleaning off the on-set makeup she'd worn today to affect a gaunt, ill look, she'd put on her moisturizer, then added just a touch of mascara and a light lip gloss. Noah had seen her without her "face" on many times, and he liked her just fine. With him, she could be herself, no shield of glamour required.
In return, rock star Noah St. John was just Noah with her, that smile he saved for her lighting up the dark gray of his eyes as he teased her by calling her Katie. It was a little crooked, his private smile, and more than a bit wicked. Gorgeous already, that smile made him irresistible. And it was for her, just for her.
She hugged that knowledge to her heart.
The elevator doors opened on the VIP floor.
She wouldn't have been able to get up here without a special key card, but Noah had cleared her with the hotel staff as he always did. The man at the desk tonight had been very discreet, slipping her the card and the number of Noah's room in an envelope. Kit knew she and Noah would be found out one day soon--someone would sell a story to the press or just trust the wrong person with the information. But for now, the two of them could be private, could learn one another without the glare of intrusion that was the eye of the paparazzi lens.
It helped that she didn't have much of a profile. Noah's was in the stratosphere, of course, but he was also known to like women, so even if the paps scented the news, they likely wouldn't rush to hunt down the story. She was just another woman in a long line to be linked to Noah.
Kit's stomach dipped, smile fading as she walked down the corridor.
She'd known the members of Schoolboy Choir since the first week the band--young and broke and in stubborn pursuit of their dream--arrived in Los Angeles. She'd been waitressing at the time, determined to support herself and to break into the business on her own. Her folks had thought she was taking independence too far, but it had been important to Kit that she not ride on their coattails. She'd even taken the stage name of Devigny rather than using the well-known and distinctive Ordaz-Castille moniker.
Noah, Fox, Abe, and David had come into the diner late one night while she was the only one on duty. At first she'd been wary: fresh off a construction job, they'd been dirty and dusty and frankly rough-looking. But then she'd realized the four were composing a song together, one of them drumming his fingertips on top of the table while another one sang softly, with interruptions from the others about cadence and rhythm.
Smiling as she realized they were just like her, striving to make it, she'd told the group they didn't have to be quiet since it was only the five of them in the diner. They'd grinned and asked her to be their audience, and she'd found herself listening to what would eventually become the group's second number one single.
Fox, Abe, and David she'd gotten along with from the start.
Not Noah.
Everything was too intense between her and Noah, too bright and sharp and demanding. She might've given in to the raw heat that shimmered in the air whenever they were close to one another except that Noah changed women like other men changed T-shirts. In for a night, gone the next.
Five months ago, things had... changed. Kit and Noah had become friends, and though they'd never so much as kissed, their relationship was the most intimate one she'd ever had. Her heart ached with missing him when they were apart. He knew her dreams and she was starting to glimpse his, and they were slowly, beautifully, making their way from friendship to love.
Maybe tonight they would finally share their first kiss.
Her blood pounded at the memory of how close they'd come last time. She'd been able to count each one of his eyelashes, feel his breath against her skin, see the staccato beat of the pulse in his neck. A single inch and their lips would've touched.
She might explode when that happened, she was so ready.
Taking a deep breath as she reached his door, she didn't knock. He'd told her to just walk in; the last time she'd knocked, he'd still been in the shower, cleaning up after the show, and she'd ended up going in on her own anyway. Kit felt her silly, goofy smile break through her self-control as she tapped the key card on the doorknob to open it.
When the door stayed locked, she looked down.
"Idiot," she muttered, realizing she had to insert the card at this hotel. "You'd think you were fifteen and about to meet your crush alone for the first time."
Except that was exactly how she felt. Happy and excited and bubbling with love. Never had she felt this way about a man. She could see the promise of forever in Noah's eyes, and it captured her heart, her soul, held it prisoner.
Chest tight with the emotions inside her, she pushed the door open. Music filtered out, low and lazy. Her smile grew deeper. There was always music around Noah. Even when he was reading a book, he'd told her he had music on in the background.
"It's like another heartbeat," he'd said to her once. "I miss it when it's not there, even though I might not consciously notice it when it's present."
That made s
About to call out his name as she stepped into the living area of the suite, something made her stop, dread coalescing into a dark and viscous intruder in her gut. The lights were on, the music was on, and she could see the remnants of a room service tray, so Noah was around, but...
That was when she saw what her subconscious had already noted and processed.
A high-heeled shoe lay on the carpet by the room service tray. The shoe glittered under the lights, sparkly gold with a four-inch stiletto heel.
At that instant, it felt as if that heel were embedded in Kit's chest, the pain of it burning and burning. She knew she should turn around and leave, but she couldn't. She had to know, had to be sure. Noah meant too much for her to make a mistake or to have doubts.
Heart squeezing and lungs barely drawing in enough air to keep her from passing out, she made herself walk across the floor to the open bedroom door. And as she walked, she saw the other shoe by that door, along with a knot of black cotton that was a T-shirt flung off without care to where it landed.
Fingers curling into a fist, she brought it to her mouth, trying to plug the agony that was churning inside her, keep it from erupting into a scream that would never end.
Then her eyes landed on the glittery pile of sequined fabric that might have been a dress, and the agony twisted.
Keeping her gorge down only because she refused to crumple, not here, not where he could see her, she took the final step to the door.
Her heart just... broke.
Noah was on the bed, beautiful as always, his golden-blond hair falling over his forehead and his back muscles bunched beneath his tattoos as he braced himself on his arms above a woman whose face Kit couldn't see but whose breasts sat large and high on her chest.
The sheet hid Noah's lower body, but there was no mistaking what he was doing, his hips moving in a distinctive, unmistakable motion. He was beautiful even in that, a part of her noted, like music given physical form.
The thought made her want to laugh, and she knew she was a second away from hysteria.
Noah looked up at that instant, his eyes meeting hers across the room, and everything in her froze, went numb, the shards of her splintered heart stabbing her from the inside out.
Chapter 1
Kit groaned at the sound of her phone. Reaching out blindly toward the nightstand, she hurled mental curses upon herself for forgetting to turn it off so she could catch some uninterrupted sleep before her four-a.m. makeup call.
It'd be fun and great for her career, her agent had said when recommending Kit take the superhero flick. Coming off two serious and emotionally wrenching projects, Kit had taken Harper's advice and jumped on board the high-budget, high-octane venture. Unfortunately, Harper had forgotten to mention the four hours it would take to put her into the head-to-toe makeup required for the role. Daily.
"What?" she snarled into the phone without checking to see who it was.
"Hey, Katie."
Every cell in her body snapped wide awake. Lifting her eyelids, she just stared at the ceiling through gritty eyes. Her heart thumped, her throat moving convulsively as she swallowed. She hated that he could still do this to her, hated it, but her visceral response to Noah wasn't something she could stop. She knew because she'd tried for the past two years and three months.
"Noah," she said flatly. "Do you know what time it is?"
"Two fifteen," he answered.
Kit should've hung up. God, he'd hurt her. So much. But there was something in his voice that had her sitting up. "Are you drunk?" One thing she knew about Noah: no matter his bad-boy rep, he was never wasted. He might give a good indication of it, but look closely and those dark gray eyes were always sober.
"Probably." A silence, followed by, "I just wanted to hear your voice. Sorry for waking you."
"Wait," she said when he would've hung up. "Where are you?"
"Some dive." He took a deep breath, released it in a harsh exhale. "I'm sorry for being an asshole. I wanted to tell you that. I don't want to go without saying that."
"Noah," she said, a horrible feeling in her stomach. "Where exactly are you?"
"The Blue Flamingo Inn off Hollywood Boulevard. Far, far, far off." He laughed, and it held no humor. "It has a neon sign of a blue--surprise!--flamingo that's flashing right through my window. Looks like someone stole the curtains."
Having already grabbed her laptop, which she'd left beside the bed after answering some e-mails before sleep claimed her, she found the Blue Flamingo Inn. But Noah was already gone, having said, "I love your voice, Kit," in an oddly raw tone before hanging up.
He didn't pick up when she called back.
"Damn it! Damn it!" She shoved aside the blanket under which she'd been buried, having turned the AC to ice-cold as she usually did at night. Shivering, she tugged on a pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt over the panties and tank top in which she'd gone to sleep.
Pulling her black hair into a rough ponytail to keep it out of her eyes, she ran through the house, phone in one pocket, credit card and driver's license in the other. In the kitchen, she grabbed her keys off the counter and shoved her feet into the tennis shoes by the door that led to the garage.
She was in her car and on the way to the motel three minutes after Noah had hung up, mouth dry and an ugliness in her gut. "Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay," she kept saying, the mantra doing nothing to calm her down, but at least it kept her mind focused.
She wanted to call Molly and Fox, or the others in the band, but no one was currently in the city. Schoolboy Choir had completed the final show in the band's hugely successful tour just over two weeks earlier. Day after that, they'd all gone their separate ways to recharge and regroup.
"Much as I love these guys," David had said with a grin that reached the dark gold of his eyes, "I've been looking at their ugly mugs daily for months. We need to go blow off some steam separately before we start snarling at each other."
At the time, Kit had nodded in understanding, having had that same experience while working on location for long periods. Tonight, however, she wished the others were all here, not scattered across the country, because something was very wrong with Noah.
"Noah doesn't do drugs," she told herself as she drove as fast as she dared, not wanting to risk getting pulled over and further delayed. "He isn't the kind to--" She couldn't say it, couldn't even think of Noah ending his life. "No," she said firmly, her hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel. "Noah isn't like that."
He might be a bastard, but he'd never hurt his friends and family by committing suicide. His sister was only twenty-one, and Noah adored her. If nothing else, his need to protect Emily from their overbearing parents should keep him from doing anything stupid... anything irreversible.
Her phone began to beep. Reaching out, she pressed the button to activate the Bluetooth speaker and microphone. "I'm fine," she said to her security service.
"Casey's in the car behind you."
Kit's eyes flicked to the lights in her rearview mirror, unsurprised the bodyguard had caught up to her even though she'd taken off like a bat out of hell. She'd hired Casey and Butch and their team because they were damn good, but tonight she needed to be alone; whatever happened, Noah would shut down if a stranger walked in beside her.
"Tell Casey to go to this location and wait." She read off an address about five minutes from the Blue Flamingo. "I'll call him if I need him."
"Don't turn off the GPS tracker on your car. That's not the best part of town."
"I know. I won't." Kit wanted privacy for this, but she wasn't stupid, not with a stalker who'd been frighteningly persistent in his efforts to get to her. "But make sure Casey doesn't follow me, Butch. I need privacy for this, and if you breach that, even to protect me, I can't trust you anymore."
"Any hint of trouble and you hit the panic button," Butch ordered. "Understood?"
"Understood." Kit was offici
Ending the call, she followed her GPS's prompts as to the shortest route to the motel. Butch's call had kept her mind busy for a couple of minutes, but now the fear came rushing back. Using the Bluetooth system, she called Noah again.
No response.
Should she alert the paramedics or the cops? What if she was wrong? What if Noah was just passed out, drunk? It would end up all over the media. Noah would never forgive her.
That risk Kit would've taken, but the idea of exposing Noah to strangers while he was vulnerable... No, she couldn't do that. "You'd better not have done anything stupid, Noah."
Trying not to panic, she drove past run-down businesses and anemic palm trees, the street corners host to small groups of working girls and boys, their pimps hovering in the background. Noah wasn't just off Hollywood Boulevard--he'd managed to find a hidden pit of darkness in amongst the sleek and shine. It was a damn good thing her car didn't draw attention.
She'd jumped into the trusty brown sedan that was the first car she'd ever bought on her own. It was old enough and dusty enough--she'd been meaning to take it to the carwash--that she was probably being visually tagged as another middle-aged husband searching for a cheap thrill.
A possible customer for the pros, but not worth carjacking.
Thanking the car that had gotten her to more casting calls than she could count, she ignored the sideshow and carried on. The Blue Flamingo Inn appeared out of the darkness in a screaming blue blaze. Turning into the lot, she found that the neon sign was the brightest lighting in the place.
A bulb flickered on an upstairs landing of the U-shaped building, and there was a yellow-tinged bulb inside what looked like the manager's office, but that was it. The entire place was dark and grimy and a great location to get mugged--except the thieves had probably given up on this place, it was so sad and dilapidated. Parking the car in the nearest spot, she went to get out and realized she had no idea of Noah's room.
Remembering what he'd said about the flamingo flashing through his uncurtained windows, she looked around and zeroed in on three upstairs rooms from where the sign had to be brightly visible. She'd try those three first before waking up the manager and blowing Noah's cover.