Read Online Marooned with the Rock Star (A Crazily Sensual Rock Star Romance, with Humor) by Dawn Steele - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Dawn Steele
Tags: Mystery, romantic suspense, Murder, Erotic Romance, island, Billionaire, kidnap, BBW, College romance, rock star, oral sex, cruise ship
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bad, and my neck felt like it had been
whiplashed.
“Rebecca?”
More groans.
“I’m OK. Addy? Are you all right, Addy?”
*
But Addy was not OK.
Addy was never going to be OK again.
She wasn’t dead, just in case that’s what
you’re thinking. No. For an eighteen-year-old girl, it was a fate
infinitely worse than death.
*
I stir my lobster bisque.
I say, “I tried. I really did.”
Rebecca shakes her head. “You didn’t try
hard enough.”
“What about you?” I demand. “You left her
too.”
“I was her friend. I never left her. But you
. . . ” Her eyes glisten and she averts her face.
I swallow.
I remember it all too well. Adeline – hooked
up to the machines. Her four limbs wrapped up in plaster. Paralysis
from the neck down, the doctors said. She would never walk or hold
somebody’s hand again.
I remember the shock Rebecca and I went
through. We escaped the accident with just a few scratches and
bruises. The airbag saved me while Rebecca hit her head on the roof
of the car, but it was nothing serious. Adeline had the brunt of it
because a branch had crashed through the windshield and taken out
one of her neck bones.
C3, they said it was. The third cervical
bone from the base of her skull.
I tried. I really did. But it was too
painful to sit by her hospital bed day after day, unable to do the
things we used to do. She could speak. Her eyes were so full of
inner turmoil as she tried to grasp what we once had.
I was young.
I was initially armed with the best of
intentions. I initially wanted to do the right thing and stay by
her side.
But my mother didn’t want me to.
“You’re too young to be saddled with a
burden like that, Kurt,” she said. “God knows I was too young too
when I had you kids, and so I know what it’s like to be saddled
with that burden every day.”
Adeline knew what I was going through.
“You have to find someone else, Kurt,” she
said bravely from her bed. She was no longer in hospital but a
rehab center. “You can’t stay here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I won’t leave you,” I avowed.
But those were empty words, said in a moment
of passionate bravado.
Adeline sank into depression, and me with
her. After a while, she didn’t even want to see me. She didn’t even
try to apply for college.
“What’s the point?” she said bitterly. She
shot a look of desperation at me. “Tell me you applied, Kurt. You
have to go to college. Don’t throw your life away because of
me.”
“I’m not,” I said.
It was true.
But I didn’t want to tell her that I only
had rejection after rejection. My grades were not good enough. My
basketball talents weren’t good enough. I was competing with a
whole lot of black kids who were hungry and from the projects in
the big cities, and they were given the advantage over me.
Soon, Adeline and I drifted apart. We were
no longer the same people we were when we entered the car that
night. Our visits grew too painful. And I still harbored the guilt
over what I did with Rebecca that night. We didn’t kiss. We just
held hands. But there was fire in that mind meld, and maybe . . .
just maybe if we hadn’t done it, Adeline would still be whole
today.
It was all my fault.
Everything that happened to Adeline was my
fault.
When the audition for American Rock
Star came into the nearest city, I thought: What the heck? I
didn’t think I had a ghost of a chance to go to the next level. My
singing skills had been confined to the shower. I had more swagger
than talent. But it was a chance to escape from my humdrum life for
a moment, and certainly a chance to escape from my troubles with my
life and Adeline.
But one audition led to another. And
another.
You kind of know the rest.
Before I left for Los Angeles for the finals
of twelve, I visited Adeline one final time.
Her eyes were shining. “Don’t look back,
Kurt. Don’t think of me and don’t come back here. Just don’t look
back.”
I held
whiplashed.
“Rebecca?”
More groans.
“I’m OK. Addy? Are you all right, Addy?”
*
But Addy was not OK.
Addy was never going to be OK again.
She wasn’t dead, just in case that’s what
you’re thinking. No. For an eighteen-year-old girl, it was a fate
infinitely worse than death.
*
I stir my lobster bisque.
I say, “I tried. I really did.”
Rebecca shakes her head. “You didn’t try
hard enough.”
“What about you?” I demand. “You left her
too.”
“I was her friend. I never left her. But you
. . . ” Her eyes glisten and she averts her face.
I swallow.
I remember it all too well. Adeline – hooked
up to the machines. Her four limbs wrapped up in plaster. Paralysis
from the neck down, the doctors said. She would never walk or hold
somebody’s hand again.
I remember the shock Rebecca and I went
through. We escaped the accident with just a few scratches and
bruises. The airbag saved me while Rebecca hit her head on the roof
of the car, but it was nothing serious. Adeline had the brunt of it
because a branch had crashed through the windshield and taken out
one of her neck bones.
C3, they said it was. The third cervical
bone from the base of her skull.
I tried. I really did. But it was too
painful to sit by her hospital bed day after day, unable to do the
things we used to do. She could speak. Her eyes were so full of
inner turmoil as she tried to grasp what we once had.
I was young.
I was initially armed with the best of
intentions. I initially wanted to do the right thing and stay by
her side.
But my mother didn’t want me to.
“You’re too young to be saddled with a
burden like that, Kurt,” she said. “God knows I was too young too
when I had you kids, and so I know what it’s like to be saddled
with that burden every day.”
Adeline knew what I was going through.
“You have to find someone else, Kurt,” she
said bravely from her bed. She was no longer in hospital but a
rehab center. “You can’t stay here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I won’t leave you,” I avowed.
But those were empty words, said in a moment
of passionate bravado.
Adeline sank into depression, and me with
her. After a while, she didn’t even want to see me. She didn’t even
try to apply for college.
“What’s the point?” she said bitterly. She
shot a look of desperation at me. “Tell me you applied, Kurt. You
have to go to college. Don’t throw your life away because of
me.”
“I’m not,” I said.
It was true.
But I didn’t want to tell her that I only
had rejection after rejection. My grades were not good enough. My
basketball talents weren’t good enough. I was competing with a
whole lot of black kids who were hungry and from the projects in
the big cities, and they were given the advantage over me.
Soon, Adeline and I drifted apart. We were
no longer the same people we were when we entered the car that
night. Our visits grew too painful. And I still harbored the guilt
over what I did with Rebecca that night. We didn’t kiss. We just
held hands. But there was fire in that mind meld, and maybe . . .
just maybe if we hadn’t done it, Adeline would still be whole
today.
It was all my fault.
Everything that happened to Adeline was my
fault.
When the audition for American Rock
Star came into the nearest city, I thought: What the heck? I
didn’t think I had a ghost of a chance to go to the next level. My
singing skills had been confined to the shower. I had more swagger
than talent. But it was a chance to escape from my humdrum life for
a moment, and certainly a chance to escape from my troubles with my
life and Adeline.
But one audition led to another. And
another.
You kind of know the rest.
Before I left for Los Angeles for the finals
of twelve, I visited Adeline one final time.
Her eyes were shining. “Don’t look back,
Kurt. Don’t think of me and don’t come back here. Just don’t look
back.”
I held
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