Broken (Book 1, The Watcher Chronicles, Paranormal Romance), page 22
“I don’t feel stuck with you,” I say in a low voice, treading the waters carefully to see how he responds.
Mason laughs harshly. “We’re stuck with each other whether we want to be or not. It’s not like either of us has a choice.”
I look down at the sidewalk at my feet, not wanting him to see the tears which are suddenly clouding my vision. I force them back promising myself a good cry when I get home but not now. Not when he’s standing right in front of me, watching me. I won’t give him the satisfaction.
I blink a few times to clear the tears away and look back up at him. He’s watching me quietly with hooded eyes, and I wonder if he knows how much his words have hurt me. I force my mind to turn back to the work at hand.
“So do you know where this Chandler Cain guy is?”
“Yes, Nick found him. He’s staying at a hotel in New York. Apparently he has a concert tonight at Madison Square Garden.”
“Does he know we’re coming?”
“He should by now. I had Isaiah go over and lay the ground work for us. Ready?”
I nod.
Mason places his hand on my shoulder and I close my hands into fist as I realize he didn’t even try to hold my hand.
We are instantly standing in the hallway of a nice looking hotel. Mason walks down the corridor without waiting to see if I am following him. I do follow him but just because he seems to know where he’s going.
The sounds of an electric guitar come from down the hallway and I have to assume it’s where Chandler Cain can be found.
Mason knocks on the door and Isaiah answers it.
“What did you tell him?” Mason asks Isaiah.
“Just the basics. That we need his help and that he doesn’t have much choice in giving it to us.” Isaiah smiles rather pleased with himself.
“Are those the people we’ve been waiting on?” I hear a man ask from inside the room.
Isaiah opens the door a little wider and I see Chandler Cain sitting on a white L-shaped sofa in a mostly white and black decorated living room holding a gloss black electric guitar in his lap. Our eyes lock and I feel an instant connection with him. Without taking his eyes off of me, he sits the guitar on the floor, leaning it against the couch he’s sitting on and walks directly to me like we’re tethered to one another by an invisible string.
If I had to put a picture of a rock star in the dictionary, it would most certainly look like Chandler Cain. He has a strong square face with a dimpled chin, full lips and brown eyes so dark they almost look black. His tawny brown hair is gelled into a messy style only the rich and handsome seem to be able to get away with wearing and actually making look good. He’s dressed simply in a white T-shirt and faded blue jeans ripped around the thighs.
When he reaches the door, he smiles at me and holds out his hand.
“I know you, don’t I?” he asks.
“The answer to that is yes and no,” I say, placing my hand in his and instantly feeling like I’ve found a long lost friend.
He tightens his fingers around mine and gently pulls me inside the room. He’s still holding my hand when he urges me to sit with him on the couch he was sitting on when I arrived. The ardent way he’s looking at me doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable. In fact, I feel more comfortable in his presence than most of the people in my life.
“You feel it too, don’t you?” He questions, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth, not trying to hide the joy he feels being in my presence.
“Yes,” I say, finding it impossible to keep a smile of my own from appearing.
Chandler reaches up with his free hand, because his other one is still holding mine, and gently traces the side of my face with the tips of his fingers. I close my eyes reveling in the contact. Our closeness isn’t sexual in nature it’s the complete opposite for me. I feel like I’m finally with someone who would never leave me or hurt me intentionally. I know without a shadow of a doubt I can trust Chandler to fight by my side and stay with me no matter what dangers the future might hold for us.
“What’s your name?” He finally asks me, letting the hand he had on my face drop back into this lap.
“Jess Riley.”
“Chandler Cain,” he says, which makes me smile.
“Yes, I know who you are,” I tell him.
He holds my hand tighter. “I can’t seem to make myself stop staring at you,” he apologizes with a light laugh. “I’m not freaking you out, am I? I’m not normally this stalkery. It’s usually me who gets stalked.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s all right. I understand what you’re feeling.”
Finally, I make myself drag my eyes away from Chandler’s face to look at Isaiah and Mason.
Isaiah is grinning at us but Mason’s expression almost breaks the peace I’ve found just being in Chandler’s presence. It’s almost like a dark shroud is covering Mason’s face as he glowers at how Chandler and I are reacting to one another. If I didn’t know better, I would have said he was angry about something.
I decide to not let Mason’s dark mood intrude in the happiness I’ve found being with Chandler and turn my full attention back to my new friend.
“So, do you know what’s going on?” Chandler asks me, still completely confused why we’re sharing such a deep, instant connection.
“Yes,” I tell him. “It’s going to be hard for you to believe. But you have to trust me.”
“I trust you,” Chandler says. I can see how surprised he is to say the words. “I don’t know how or why but I know I can trust you completely. Please, tell me what’s going on, Jess.”
I tell Chandler everything that’s happened to me since killing the Owen changeling. When I come to the part about finding the crown, the fiery sword and meeting Michael for the first time, Chandler’s eyes fill with pent up excitement.
“So I’m a vessel for an archangel?” He asks me.
I nod.
“That is so wickedly cool! Which one do I have?”
“I don’t know. We’ll have to find your crown and whatever talisman you were assigned before you can make first contact with your archangel.”
“So where do we start? How do we find my crown?”
I sigh heavily. “Yeah, that part might not be as easy as I made it sound. My crown didn’t reveal its presence until after I killed the demon. I’m not sure what your trigger will be but I suspect it will be different for all of us.”
“But, I’m meant to find it right?” He asks like an excited child. “If it’s fate, then I have nothing to worry about. I’ve led a pretty charmed life so far.”
It’s not something I have trouble believing about Chandler. He’s so open to everything I can’t imagine he’s had a life filled with anything less than perfection.
“And now I’ve found you,” he says, smiling at me brightly. “Or, I guess you found me. Either way,” he shrugs, “charmed life.”
Mason clears his throat to gain our attention. “Now that the two of you have…found each other,” he says, making it sound almost dirty, “maybe you should spend the rest of the day together.” Although Mason is suggesting I spend the day with Chandler, his stiff demeanor seems to indicate he doesn’t really want me to.
“Great!” Chandler says, reluctantly letting go of my hand to stand and walk over to a built in bar in the room. “Want something to drink, Jess? I don’t have alcohol, never liked the stuff myself, but I do have soda, water and juice.”
“Water is fine,” I tell him.
I stand up and walk over to Isaiah and Mason.
“So, any clue as to what might help trigger his crown to send out a homing beacon like mine did?”
“No,” Mason says in a clipped voice, “we’ll just have to wait and see what happens. I’ll have Joshua comb through Chandler’s records and pinpoint locations where it might show up. It’s probably just a matter of time.”
“Then do you just want me to stay here and keep an eye on him? For how long?”
“Does it matter?” Mason asks brusquely. “The two of you seem to be getting along rather well. I didn’t think you would mind spending the day with him.”
I feel myself bristle. “Why would I?” I ask, refusing to let him leave thinking otherwise. “He’s handsome, sweet and actually seems to want to be around me. What girl on this planet wouldn’t give her soul to spend a day alone with Chandler Cain in his penthouse suite?”
I see Mason ball his hands into fists. “Call me when you’re ready to go back home,” he says tersely. “I’ll come get you.”
With that, Mason turns his back to me and phases.
“Let us know if you two need anything,” Isaiah says to me in a kinder voice than Mason’s.
I feel as though he wants to say more but thinks better of it before he phases away too.
“Wow,” Chandler says from the bar, pouring water over cubed ice in a glass. “You could cut the tension between the two of you with a knife…literally. What’s the story there, Jess?”
“There is no story,” I say, going back to the couch and sitting down heavily on it. I lean my head back on the soft cushion and close my eyes, feeling tired all of a sudden.
I feel Chandler’s weight dip the couch as he sits down beside me and I open my eyes. He holds out the glass of ice water to me and I take it. After drinking almost half of its contents, I set the glass down on the black lacquered coffee table in front of us.
“Ok, spill,” Chandler says to me. “What’s going on between the two of you?”
“Nothing,” I say. “At least nothing now. I thought there might be something but now I think I must have just been deluding myself.”
“I don’t think you were. Not from the way he was looking at you before he left. Trust me, a man doesn’t act that way unless he really cares about you. To me, it looks like he cares about you more than he wants to admit to himself though.”
My heart lifts a little with hope from Chandler’s words but I don’t let it last long. I let Mason in once, thinking he would be different, but I wasn’t going to do it again until I knew for sure what his feelings for me were. I wouldn’t torture myself with what might be.
Chandler and I spend most of the morning talking about our lives. I tell him everything. Not leaving anything out. I have to assume it’s our archangels making us so comfortable with each other and strangely enough I’m ok with that. I have so few people in my life who I can confide in and I feel as though Chandler isn’t a new friend but an old one.
Compared to Chandler’s life, I realize just how screwed up mine has been. Apparently, he grew up in a small town in Georgia with the whole two story home, white picket fence, two dogs and a cat and loving parents who never argued scenario. I almost envy him but realize there’s no reason to. His life was meant to make him into the man he is and mine was meant to… what? Make sure I was as screwed up as possible? I push the thought aside because I don’t want to taint my time with Chandler dwelling on things in the past I have no way of changing.
That afternoon Chandler asks me to attend his concert at Madison Square Garden.
“I have to get over there soon to do the sound check and make sure things are set up right. But, I want you to come see me perform.”
“Ok,” I say, truly excited. “This will be my first concert.”
Chandler stares at me like I’ve suddenly grown horns on my head.
“You’re kidding right?”
“No,” I say shaking my head a little. “This will be my first concert.”
“Hmm, well then, you have to let me indoctrinate you into the life style of a rock star.”
He fishes his cell phone out of his pocket and makes a call.
“Hey Deon, it’s your favorite rock star,” Chandler says into the phone. “I need to hire you for something.” He pauses. “Tonight. I have a friend I want you to pamper for me.” Pauses again and grins at something Deon says. “No, not that type of friend. This one is a real friend, not one of the girls. Well, she is a girl but not one of the usual girls. I want you to come over and get her ready for my concert tonight….No I don’t care what you need to get. You have my card. Ok, see you in a few.”
Chandler looks over at me with mischief in his eyes.
“Ok, who is Deon and what’s wrong with the way I look now? Watcher uniforms not allowed at concerts these days?”
“Well, you are definitely going to have to leave the plasma pistol behind,” Chandler laughs. “I know you could probably get away with carrying one to the concert, but I would rather you didn’t. Sends the wrong vibe and I like for people to listen to me sing without having to worry about being shot.”
I laugh. “Ok. I can do that for you I guess. But seriously, what is this Deon person going to do to me?”
“Now that would just ruin the surprise,” Chandler says, leaning over and giving me a peck on the cheek. “Trust me.”
I purse my lips at him and shake my head wondering what I’ve just gotten myself into.
Chapter 20When Deon and her crew arrive at Chandler’s hotel suite, she doesn’t exactly match up with the picture I had in my mind. I suppose I was being judgmental. Since we are in a rock and roll environment, I assumed Deon would dress edgy and over the top. She actually comes in looking like she just stepped off a runway in Milan with her crisp white suit and perfectly coifed straight hair.
She holds out her hand to me when Chandler introduces us and her skin is like black velvet it’s so soft.
“Pleased to meet you,” Deon says. “And may I say I’m happy to see you are nothing like the regular girls Chandler has me tend to. I’m glad he’s found a nice girl this time.” She takes in my Watcher uniform. “But that uniform is going to have to go. Otherwise you’ll scare off half of Chandler’s concert attendees.”
“Ok, I will leave you in Deon’s capable hands,” Chandler says, giving me a peck on the cheek. “I’ve got to meet my agent downstairs and head on over. Deon will bring you to the concert for me.” He turns to Deon. “Treat her good. Don’t care how much you spend.”
Deon lifts an eyebrow. “Dangerous words to speak to a stylist.”
Chandler laughs. “I trust you, Deon.”
After Chandler leaves, Deon asks me to go shower and wash my hair so she and her crew of two women and one man can get me ready for the concert.
When I emerge from the shower, I’m not sure what to put on. I rummage through the clothes Chandler has and find a button down shirt and a pair of shorts which are too large but I refuse to go out without something on down there.
Deon and her helpers set to work on me immediately. While the girls curl my hair into a multitude of spiral curls, I see Deon and the man looking at a rack of clothing they must have brought in while I was in the shower. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Deon pull out something bright red.
“This will show up nicely on stage,” she says to the man.
I see that the dress is made out of a red nylon/spandex mix material with a square neck line, thin shoulder straps, and horizontal sections of material which give it a bandage type effect. There is a long zipper in the back which tells me I will never be able to put it on by myself.
“On stage?” I question. Chandler didn’t say anything about me having to be on stage.
“Oh, just in case,” Deon says with a wave of her hand like I have nothing to worry about.
For Chandler’s sake, I hope she is right.
At around six that evening, I call Faison to let her know where I will be since Mama Lynn didn’t answer her phone.
“You’re going where?” She practically screams at me. I hold the phone away from my ear.
“Chandler Cain’s concert at Madison Square Garden,” I tell her a second time.
“I definitely picked the wrong job,” Faison whines. “Bring me back a T-shirt!”
“Do you want it signed?”
“Oh my God,” she says enunciating each of her words dramatically. “Are you telling me you’re actually going to meet him?”
“I pretty much spent the day with him,” I tell her and she squeals, forcing me to pull the phone away from my ear again.
“Well if I had to pick someone for you to rebound with, it would be Chandler Cain. He is beyond gorgeous.”
“He’s just a friend, Faison,” I tell her. “Now do you want him to sign the T-shirt or not?”
“Yes, yes yes!”
After I get off the phone with Faison, Deon dismisses her crew and escorts me to the ground floor level of the hotel to an awaiting black stretch limousine. It doesn’t take us long to get to Madison Square Garden. Apparently, Deon is like one of Chandler’s crew because we breeze by his security team when they see I’m with Deon. She escorts me to a private room where Chandler is getting ready.
I guess I understood he was a rock star but find it amusing when I see him all gussied up as one. He has make up on with his eyes surrounded by black eyeliner. His hair looks similar to his natural style but seems to be standing up on end a bit more dramatically. His outfit is somewhere between punk rock and neo-Victorian with its stiff collar and cravat around his neck. The white shirt he is wearing has puffy sleeves. A pair of black skin tight leather pants and matching vest completes his look.
When Chandler sees me he hops out of his make-up chair and twirls around in front of me.
“What do you think?”
I smile because he is like a big kid. “Very rock starish,” I say. “You’ll have the girls swooning in no time.”
He smiles and it literally lights up the room.
Chandler runs his eyes up and down my body and whistles, “Deon does know how to dress a lady. You’re looking wicked cool tonight, Jess.”
Chandler introduces me to people in his entourage but I don’t pay too much attention to their names. I seriously doubt any of them will become very important to me. When it’s time for the concert to begin, I’m told I can watch everything from the side of the stage.
