Page 4 of Rough Ride with the Grumpy Cowboy
AVA
Five years later…
The LA skyline comes into view, and I’ve never been more glad to see the city of angels in my life.
“Home at last,” Lou comments next to me, sounding just as relieved as I am.
I turn to her with a smile and nod. “At last.”
I’ve been on tour for the past six months, living in hotels and tour buses, sharing living spaces with no fewer than six people at a time, so I’m looking forward to being in my own space again. Three months don’t feel like enough of a break—I need a year. Adecade would be even better, but if I’m to stay relevant, I can’t be out of the spotlight for too long.
“I had your apartment cleaned and stocked up. You won’t have to deal with human interaction for the next week or so, until your current supplies run out,” Lou explains.
“Thanks, Lou.”
We land smoothly, and since we’re seated in first class, we get to disembark first. I’m famous but not enough to afford a private plane, so commercial it is. I don’t mind it though—first class is comfortable enough, plus who wants all the hassle of maintaining a private jet?
We go through security easily. I get spotted by a few fans, so I stop to take selfies and sign autographs before my security team swoops in and I’m ushered into a chauffeured luxury SUV to take me home.
The busy streets of LA blur by as we speed home... Home? Is LA really my home? No, it’s not. Home is the place I’ve been avoiding like the plague for the past half-decade. My gaze wanders to the phoenix tattoo on my arm that artfully covers the evidence of the tragedy from that night.
I wanted to erase what happened that day from my memory entirely, but the scar was too deep to have it removed with laser surgery, so I had it covered up with a tattoo. Flashes of what happened that night plague my mind, so I close my eyes to block them out, but that only makes them clearer.
His face pops into my mind, clear as day. One moment he’s smiling, gazing at me with affection, and the next he’s covered in blood, gasping for air as he struggles to breathe, face contorted in pain. He reaches out to touch me, but before he can, I sit up with a start to find Lou shaking me awake.
“Are you okay?”
I nod, brushing her off.
“We’re here,” she informs me, and I look out the window to find us parked in the underground parking lot of my apartment building.
How did we get home so fast? I closed my eyes for only a second.
The elevator ride to the penthouse is quiet as I’m still trying to shake off the aftereffects of what I dreamed in the car.
I hate having those flashbacks, but they can’t be helped. They happen often—a painful reminder of a day that was supposed to be the best night of my life, until it turned into a tragedy.
I wonder how he’s doing? I have no right to think about him though. I ruined his life, and my dreadful nightmares are only a small price I have to pay.
“I know you don’t like hearing about this, but your mother called again. She wants to see you,” Lou speaks up, pulling me from my thoughts.
My face scrunches up in annoyance. “And?”
“I told her you’re not available to talk.”
“Thank you.”
My mother is another sore topic for me. The reason why Lou is my manager instead of her is a result of all the pain and shit she put me through for years before I finally decided to put an end to our relationship, both professional and personal.
The elevator doors slide open onto my floor, and Lou uses her keycard to let us into the penthouse.
“Home sweet h...” The words dry on my lips because instead of my gorgeous apartment that I pay a pretty penny for, I’m met with chaos.
“What the fuck?” Lou exclaims next to me.
The whole penthouse is flooded, and upon walking further in, I’m able to see that the sofas are smeared with dirt and sliced open, pillows ripped apart, vases broken, walls defaced with spray paint, windows greasy with hand and footprints.
“How does one get a footprint that high? These windows are almost thirty feet,” I exclaim.
