Page 40 of Not Another Rockstar
Axel stared at her, silently thanking her for calming him down before he’d done something he wouldn’t even regret, but would have resulted in him having to call Anita to bail them out of jail.
“Close your mouth, or you’ll catch flies,” she teased.
“Sorry, I was wondering who you were and what you’ve done with Phoebe,” Axel said as she walked to the passenger side of his car without argument.
“Nobody messes with my art, or the people I love. My dad raised me to finish the fight,” she said as they got in the car. “Please take me home,” she asked, sinking into the chair.
“Absolutely. Nick is getting the spare room ready for you.”
There was no way he was letting her go back to her apartment. The break-in at the studio might not have been her last straw, but this was his.
“And why is my brother getting a spare room ready for me?” He felt her staring at him.
“Because you decided it was a good idea to go after a crazed fan who was paid by God knows who to trash your studio. We’ve lost Cillian, and the last thing we want and need right now is to be worried about you. So, you’re going to stay with us until we can figure out who’s behind this.”
“You shouldn’t believe a word he said,” Phoebe said, securing her seatbelt. “I bet he was lying. Just a coward’s way of trying to frighten us, keep us paranoid.”
“Lying or not, you’re coming back to the house with me.”
“Do I have a say in this?” she asked as they left the car park.
“You have a say in whether you want to pack or if I’ll have to do it for you.”
“And if I say no?” she huffed, and he noticed her rubbing her scarred hand in the same spot where he got carpal tunnel after a show. After all the exertion, he guessed it had to hurt. Now that the scar had healed, he made a mental note to give her someof the herbal wraps his acupuncturist gave him when his wrist wanted to give up mid-tour. They were magic.
“Are you listening to me?” Phoebe waved a hand in front of his face, interrupting his thoughts.
“If you don’t come willingly, then I’ve been instructed to take you home.” He shrugged.
“I’ve got my own home where I’ll be perfectly safe.”
“Home is where your family is. Nick and August are your family. What you did today left us with little choice. Please don’t make this harder for me, I’m only following orders, and there is no way you’re going back to your apartment with this new information—your brother would kill me.”
Unable to reach a middle ground, they fell silent. The drive to the house that overlooked the Irish Sea felt like an eternity. Axel dialled in the code at the gate, and they drove through. Much to his relief, Phoebe didn’t try and jump out before it closed. They turned down a short driveway lined with bushes to protect them from paps trying to pry. They reached the garage doors and Axel hit the button on his keys to open it.
“I’m not getting out of the car,” Phoebe said, and he wished she wouldn’t be so stubborn.
“Suit yourself, you can stay here. I must warn you that it gets awfully cold in here at night. There’s a blanket in the trunk if you want to make yourself cosy.” Axel climbed out of the car, not up for an argument. She would come in eventually.
“I don’t need to be here,” she said through the window.
He hesitated on the stairs that connected the garage to the house. “It’s only for a little while.” Before she could argue, he added, “Come inside or I’ll tell Nick about the jeep incident.”
Phoebe’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me,” Axel said, opening the passenger door.
Phoebe groaned, but finally got out of the car. Then she froze. He followed her gaze, and cursed internally. Cillian’s car. Shehurried into the house without a word. He pulled at the back of his neck; he had forgotten how many reminders of Cillian were in the house. However, right now her safety trumped her feelings.
When Axel reached the kitchen, August was standing by the sink doing the dishes, looking confused.
“Where’d she go?” Axel asked him.
“Guest house,” August said, pointing to the gardens.
He huffed. Was she going to make him chase her? The thought made him happier than it should have. She was a welcome distraction from the others’ grief and his own, and she was wearing those jeans that hugged in all the right places.
The garden was empty, but the sliding door to the guest house was open. The glass house’s windows tinted as the day wore on, and it had the best view on the property except for Nick’s balcony on the second floor.
