"I'm not crying," she denied gruffly, rubbing her uninjured eye against the swell of his pec. "But I don't want a paramedic. I just need you. I was so scared, J." She pressed herself against him as if trying to climb inside. "God, I thought I was dead for sure and I hadn't even told you I love you."
He froze. Joy warred with terror and he couldn't say which was winning. A dozen thoughts and twice as many emotions jumbled his mind. But only one emerged.
"You don't really mean that, Peej," he assured her coolly. "You've been through hell and had the crap scared out of you. You're not thinking straight."
A couple of uniformed cops entered the room barking questions. He felt a shameful sense of relief as he turned Peej over to Nell and left to go answer them. Then he'd have to see about canceling tonight's concert and imparting a few home truths to the head of security.
P.J. was finally safe and his job was done. It was hard to believe, but the two facts were bound to sink in any minute now.
And as soon as they did, he was sure this two-ton rock crushing his chest would lift.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Hyperlink, www.NightTrainToNashville.net:
Three Priscilla Jayne Concerts Canceled in Wake of Stalker Attack
FOR THREE LONG DAYS NOW, in the wake of Luther Menks's assault, P.J. had held it together. She was still holding it together when Jared came barging into her dressing room in Cleveland's Gund Arena and blew her hard-earned calm all to hell and gone.
"You don't have to do this, you know," he said, banging through the door without so much as a hello. "Youshouldn't do it. It's too damn soon."
She shrugged, hanging on to her composure by refusing to look directly at him.
But he just couldn't let sleeping dogs lie. "Are you nuts, Peej?"
Everything inside of her coalesced into a hot ball of anger and slowly, breathing carefully, she redirected her attention, bringing her gaze from just beyond his left shoulder to meet his stormy eyes. "Excuse me?" Her voice was quiet, but if he was half as smart as she'd always thought he was he'd be very, very careful about what came out of his mouth next.
Apparently she'd overestimated his intelligence.
"Look at you!" He took a step closer, scowling down at her. "The swelling might have gone down, but your cheekbone still looks tender and your eye's still black." He squinted at the orb under discussion. "Well, more green and purple, but the point is, you've got a way to go yet in your recovery. You sure as hell don't need to put yourself through a big-ass press conference. What was McGrath thinking to set it up so soon? What areyou thinking to agree to it?" He took another step nearer. "I repeat, are younuts? "
Tossing aside the stage makeup she'd been contemplating using to minimize her black eye, she marched up to him. "I guess I must be or I would have wised up by now and stopped putting up with your lame game of emotional dodge-'em."
"Huh?" He stilled, looking down at her with eyes gone wary. "What did I do?"
I will not lose it, I will not lose it."Aside from insulting my intelligence and treating me like a five-year-old, you mean?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded indignantly, bending his head until their faces were nose-to-nose. "I've never treated you like a five-year-old in my life."
"The hell you haven't!" Her last fragile grasp on the react-first-think-second temper she'd worked so hard to rise above simply came undone. She thumped her finger into his sternum. "Don't you pretend to be concerned about me," she snarled, jabbing his chest in cadence with every word.
He had the nerve to look thunderstruck. "Iam concerned-"
"You've been avoiding me like an Ebola outbreak!"
"That's bullshit." Wrapping his fist around her drilling finger, he prevented her from poking at him any further but tightened his grip when she tried to snatch it away. Dark brows gathering over his nose, he looked down at her. "Jesus, Peej, I've just been busy. Between dealing with the cops, the press and the arenas for the concerts we had to cancel, there were a hundred things to do."
"My God, you are so full of it it's amazing your eyes aren't brown," she marveled. "Well, you just keep telling yourself that, pal. Never mind that two thirds of your busywork is Nell's job-you and I both know the real reason you haven't been around."
"Maybe you do, baby. I don't have a clue what this 'real' reason might be."
"You've been running scared because I brought up the dreaded L-word."
"What?"He dropped her hand like a hot brick. "No." Stepping back, he thrust his fingers through his hair, his eyes growing shuttered. "I told you then that I understood you didn't really mean it."
"Yes. And how special that you seem to know my feelings better than I do." She didn't bother disguising her disgust. "But hey, good thing you're not treating me like a five-year-old or anything." Clenching and unclenching the hand he'd turned loose, she looked him in the eye. "No, wait. That's exactly what you're doing."
Then she took a giant step back, suddenly worn to the bone. "I'm so tired of chasing after a love that no one wants to give me I could spit. I did it for way too many years with Mama-damned if I plan to start begging for yours, too. What are you still doing here, anyway, J? Menks is in jail, the danger to me is past." She laughed a little wildly, because what a load of horse manure that was, considering that the very definition of danger stood right in front of her. She'd rather be back in that room with Menks than standing here feeling her heart shatter to pieces in her chest.
But she'd be planted six feet under, pushing up daisies and feeding the nightcrawlers, before she'd let it show. She thrust up her chin. "I think it's time for you to go home."
Face blank with-what? shock? relief, maybe?-he stepped forward, one long-fingered hand reaching out to her. "Peej."
There was a sudden rap on the door, then the portal swung open and her manager, Ben McGrath, strode into the room. "There's quite a crowd out there," he said in his crisp New England voice, pocketing a cell phone on which P.J. knew he'd have just that moment concluded a call. "You ready?"
"Yes." Taking a quick peek at her reflection in the makeup mirror, she rearranged a few strands of her new haircut, which curled just about chin length now, then shrugged at the bruising she'd thought to disguise. What the hell. Let the whole damn world see-what did she care? It wasn't like she'd done anything to warrant the beating Menks had dealt her.
It was simply one more case of attracting the emotionally bankrupt. She seemed to have a real flair for it.
"Dammit, P.J." Jared's voice was urgent, commanding her to look at him, and once again he reached out for her.
Ignoring the demand, she dodged away from his touch and his fingertips merely grazed her forearm. Ignoring as well the heat that seared her skin where they had brushed, she looked at Ben. "Let's go."
She left the room without a backward glance.
SHE THINKSISHOULD GO home?Gut feeling as if a host of maniac grasshoppers danced hip-hop inside it, Jared stalked down the hallway behind P.J. and Ben.
Hell, she was probably right. That's exactly what he ought to do. In fact, that's what he'd sort of assumed his plan was, anyway. He'd thought to see her recuperate, to see her settled, then blow this popstand and never look back.