“We’re good,” Noah said at the same time. “Your ceiling will need a little repair work though.”
She looked up, saw the hole. Relief was a cool river crashing over her. “Hope the sparrow is safe.”
Noah grinned. “Tough things, sparrows. They can survive just about anything.” Releasing Becca once she was contained, he came over and tugged Kit up and into his arms.
“You were fucking amazing.” He squeezed her tight. “The plan was for me to haul you out of the way so Butch could take her down, but then you did that drop and we could both focus on her.”
Holding on to him with all her strength, she said, “My character’s best friend in Primrose Avenue was taken hostage by a deranged ex once. I got to save her and she had to fall to the floor to give me the chance to shoot him.”
Noah’s chest rumbled against her as he laughed. “And they say you can’t learn anything from soap operas.”
Crying and laughing, Kit didn’t look as a screaming, ranting Becca was taken outside by Butch to wait for the cops. She knew the other woman was disturbed, needed help, but she couldn’t be generous right now—she was too angry and chilled by the remnants of the fear Becca had created in her. She just needed to hold on to Noah, and he clearly needed to hold on to her.
That’s how they stayed until the cops came.
The rest of the band, as well as Molly and Thea—Sarah having returned to her home now that the locks had been changed—descended on the house in the next hour. Thea was already handling the media calls so Kit didn’t have to, while Molly and David made a late lunch for everyone as the rest of them sat at the kitchen table talking over the shocking turn of events.
“That’s serious premeditation,” a grim-faced Abe said when Kit explained the disgusting incident with the semen on her bed.
“Scary fucking premeditation.” Noah’s voice was without mercy. “I hope they lock her up for a long time.”
“Not much doubt of that,” Fox said, his eyes glittering with barely withheld fury. “She had Kit at gunpoint.”
“And she’s got a record.” Thea, who’d been in the garden, talking on the phone, came back inside. “That last call was from one of my police contacts—Becca stalked someone before, back in high school.”
The publicist went to David, leaning into him as he slid his arm around her. “No charges filed, so it didn’t come up in a background check, but the victim called in once news of Becca’s arrest hit the media. Becca went at her with a broken bottle.”
Kit put both hands over her face for a second to get her breathing in order. “No charges?”
“The victim and Becca used to be best friends, and Becca had lost her dad not long before the incident.” Thea’s phone buzzed again. “Since Becca didn’t actually manage to hurt her and was leaving town anyway, the friend decided not to pile on the hurt.” Pressing a kiss to David’s cheek before she put the phone to her ear, Thea walked back out into the garden.
Noah held Kit close to him, as he had since it happened. “Thank God she’s off the streets and out of your life.”
Feeling sad for her friend but also angry and relieved it was all over, Kit just soaked in Noah’s warmth and listened to the others talk. Thea’s phone was going nonstop, the publicist popping in and out to keep them updated as comforting food smells filled the kitchen. One of Noah’s guitars inevitably ended up in his arms while David made do with a couple of utensils against various surfaces, and Abe clapped a rhythm as Fox sang one of their older hits.
It was just what she needed. Blissful normality.
Chapter 39
She slept that night in Noah’s arms under the starlit sky and woke to find him awake. “Did you sleep?” He’d held her in his arms through the night, made her feel so deeply safe, but she could tell his demons had been at him again. “Be honest with me.”
“Four hours,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Pretty good for me.”
Rising up on her elbow, she brushed his hair off his face. “Hey,” she whispered. “There was a time when spending a night in your arms was a pipe dream for me. We’re doing it, making it.”
Noah flexed then fisted the hand of the arm he had under his head. “I just feel so goddamn pathetic sometimes.” The words were spit out. “I’m a grown man who wakes up shivering after a nightmare. What the fuck?”
Kit had that sense of flying without a chute again, stumbling her way through this. So many things she didn’t know, but one thing she did: she loved this man and he loved her. “I didn’t have nightmares,” she told him. “Thank you for keeping the monsters at bay.”
Some of the tension leached out of his body, the steely gray of his eyes softening. “You’re kinda cuddly in bed, Katie.” A hint of a smile. “I can’t move an inch without you following.”
She made a face at him. “You complaining?”
Squeezing her hip, he grinned. “Never. Cuddle up to me all you like. I can take it.”
Kit laughed and knew they’d survived this hurdle. “Come on. I’m starving.” She’d barely eaten last night, her nerves still jangling. “What do you say to waffles again?” Movie diet be damned.
“I say I make better waffles than you.”
“I say you’re right, so get moving.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Falling back a little on purpose just so she could watch Noah’s ass in the white boxer briefs that were all he wore, Kit smiled. For the first time since the stalking began, there was no weight of fear on her, no edginess. She felt light and free. And the fact Noah was with her, that he trusted her with his secrets? Yeah, that made everything better.
“We’re doing this,” she whispered again. “We’re making it.”
The next three nights were wonderful. The fourth was so bad Noah pushed her away and went inside to grab his guitar. She heard him plucking at the strands as she lay in bed alone—and she decided that would never work.
Getting up, she made them both coffee, then left him to his brooding—though not until after she’d kissed his sullen face. “I love you,” she said with another kiss. “Even when you’re a bad-tempered, surly rock star.”
Scowling, he didn’t say a word, but when she returned home around six that night after a shoot with the cosmetics company, it was to find an iPod waiting on her pillow. When she slotted it into her music system, Noah’s voice singing the haunting words of “Sparrow” filled the air. It made her cry and then smile, because she recognized the gentle beat in the background, the gritty voice that joined Noah’s on the chorus, the expert piano playing.
He’d finally shared the song with the guys. Not just shared it but recorded it.
Listening to it five more times in a row, Kit messaged him: It’s my favorite. I’m crying, it’s so beautiful.
His response came seconds later: Was doing weights with David. I keep forgetting how fucking fit he is and then he wipes the floor with me. Damn smug drummers. And yeah, I figured “Sparrow” deserved to be recorded after it helped us defeat the psycho bitch. I’ll be home soon. Stop crying.
Sliding away her phone, Kit allowed herself to think of Becca. Part of her would always mourn the loss of their friendship, and one day she might even find it in herself to visit Becca in the facility where she was being held, but she’d never be able to forgive the other woman for the terror she’d caused.
However, that was over and done with, and Kit didn’t intend to allow it to further steal her time or emotional energy. She just wanted to treasure her true friends, and most of all, she wanted to be with Noah, to create a life with him. With that thought in mind, she pushed up her sleeves and decided to surprise him with a homemade dinner.