The Rocker Who Shatters Me Page 27


“Nat,” Dev said, pounding his fist against the door. “Come out, or let me in. Damn it, let me in so I can take care of you.”

“L-leave me alone, Dev!” I cried, slowly sliding down the cool metal door. When my ass touched the tiled floor, I tucked my feet under me and doubled over as I let the tears fall. “Just leave me alone,” I whispered.

How long I sat there crying, I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that my back ached, my head was once again throbbing, and my face was sticky from all the tears that had washed away most of my makeup.

For the majority of the time I sat there, sobbing like a broken child, Devlin had knocked on the door I was still sitting against. “Please, Nat. I hate it when you cry,” he’d groaned at one point. “Open the door and let me hold you.”

Part of me had wanted to, but a bigger part figured I didn’t deserve the comfort that he was willing to offer. Shit, I was becoming bipolar or something. One minute I hated his guts, the next I was sucking his face and riding his dick like I’d never get the chance again; and then I was screaming and crying at him, wishing him to the deepest pit in hell. Now…I just wanted him to hold me.

I didn’t let him, though. How was I supposed to figure anything out if I did? Everything was so confused in my head at the moment and it was throbbing so badly that I didn’t know up from down, let alone if I wanted to kiss Devlin or scratch his eyes out.

Eventually I cried myself dry, for the moment at least. Devlin hadn’t knocked on the door in a while and I figured he’d already given up and either gone back into the VIP lounge or gone back to the bus. That my heart ached at the thought of him giving up so easily pissed me off—yay, yet another mood change.

Angrily I stood and dusted my skirt off. It was hard to tell what I’d just gotten on my ass from sitting on a nasty club bathroom floor. I needed a hot shower and some Tylenol and a full week’s sleep. I’d only be getting the first two, and I had to make do with that much. Tiredly I rubbed a hand over my forehead, putting just a little pressure at my temples before moving to the sink and washing my hands.

I refused to look myself in the eye in the mirror as I bent over the sink to wash my hands. I knew I probably looked like a hot mess. My face felt sticky from crying, my eyes felt swollen and irritated. My lips felt bruised from Devlin’s kiss and I sank my teeth into the fleshy part of my bottom lip in self-punishment for being so weak where he was concerned.

There was no knowing what waited for me on the other side of the bathroom door. I didn’t want to open it, but knew that I had no choice. I still wasn’t sure how long I’d been in the bathroom. Five minutes? An hour? It could have been even longer. Grimacing, I straightened my shoulders and reached for the doorknob.

When the door swung outward I wasn’t exactly surprised to find my best friend leaning against the wall with a concerned frown on his handsome face. His green eyes were silently asking me if I was okay so I gave him a forced little smile and nodded. Linc straightened and held out those big, thickly muscled arms and I walked right into them. Those strong arms closed around me and I buried my face in his delicious-smelling chest.

Stupidly a fresh batch of tears burned my eyes as he rubbed his big hands up and down my spine. I’d thought I was all cried out for the night. Guess not.

“Let’s go back to the bus,” Linc murmured after a few minutes of letting me silently cry.

I nodded my head, only to wish I hadn’t when it began to throb even worse. Was my head going to explode? It wouldn’t have surprised me. “Yeah. I’m ready to say fuck this night.”

Linc tucked me under his arm and guided me toward the closest exit, not bothering to make any excuses to the others. I was more than thankful for that. I could just imagine the look in Emmie’s eyes if she saw my face at that moment. I didn’t need angry Emmie on my case any more than I needed Shane questioning my tear-streaked face.

There was a line of cabs outside the club and one pulled forward to let us in. Linc told the driver the address and then pulled my head onto his chest. My tears had dried up again, but now my head was hurting so bad that I was starting to see little yellow spots. Damn migraine. Looked like I was going to have to break out the big meds for this headache. I didn’t get them often, but when I did it meant practically putting myself into a coma to get rid of them.

With the debilitating headache came a wave of nausea. Moaning, I yelled out for the driver to pull over and barely had the door open before I was retching. If I’d still had long hair I would have just gotten vomit all in it.

It took a few minutes before I was confident I was finished and then the cab driver was moving at twice his earlier speed to get me out of his car before I started throwing up again. When we reached the buses, Linc lifted me into his arms because I’d nearly stumbled and fallen when I’d first gotten out of the cab.

“You have to take better care of yourself, Nat.” Linc shifted me slightly in his arms as he opened the door to the bus. “This isn’t good for you.”

“It’s just a migraine, Linc.” I tucked my head closer against his chest when the overhead lighting in the kitchenette hurt my eyes. “I need my meds.”

Linc didn’t say another word as he carried me down the narrow hall to the sleeping area and placed me in my roost. He left me for a minute but when he reappeared he had a bottle of water and my migraine medicine. I looked at the bottle of pills apprehensively, wondering if I would be able to keep one of the tablets down. If I did happen to keep one down then I wouldn’t be up until at least noon the next day.

There was so much to do, but the pain was so bad. I had no choice but to take one.

Linc placed one of the tablets in my hand and I swallowed it with a silent prayer that it would stay down. “Tell Em,” I mumbled as I reached for my blanket and the little stuffed tiger I stupidly slept with every night. Yet another mood swing washed over me as I gazed down at the little tiger.

Devlin had given me the ridiculous little stuffed animal on the first tour I’d ever gone on with OtherWorld. He’d tossed the little thing at me one night when he’d walked onto the bus after a concert. “There, kid. Something for you to cuddle up to at night,” he’d said with a smirk that I’d wanted to slap off his sexy-as-sin face.

I’d flipped him off, but actually slept with the soft stuffy every night since. It seemed childish, and since I was sick my guard was down and I had to admit that I still was childish in some ways. I needed to grow up, and fast, if I was ever going to figure my life out.

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