So I Married a Rockstar

Chapter Forty-One

Ch.41: Jude's Secret

It was hours before Jude came home, and during that time I swung between anger that he'd disappeared and left me like this, and fear that something had happened to him.

I'd long since made Elle go home. As important as she'd become to me, this was something that Jude and I needed to do alone.

When I finally heard him come in, a wave of relief socked me in the chest, followed by a fresh bolt of anger. He'd been gone for hours, and I'd had no idea what was going on.

"Why the hell didn't you answer your phone?" I said, my voice low and trembly.

"Sorry," Jude muttered.

Digger frantically pawed at Jude's jeans, and Jude crouched to pet him. Then he straightened and leaned against the edge of the breakfast bar. I wanted him to hug me, to reassure me, to ease the churning emotion in my chest, but there was a strange sense of space between us, like we were strangers all over again.

"I didn't find Darrell," he said.

"I know, because he was here," I said.

Jude's head snapped up, his eyes blazing with anger. "In the loft?"

"No, outside. He grabbed me after you ran off."

Jude shoved himself off the counter, his fists clenched tight. "What the fuck? He grabbed you?"

"You'd already know that if you answered your phone," I said, frustration sharpening my voice.

Jude let out a strained breath and raked his fingers through his curls. "Tell me what happened."

I did.

Jude was silent when I finished, staring at the floor. Digger sat and watched us, his tail lightly thumping.

"Jude," I said, quiet but firm. "I've respected your right to your secrets all this time, but enough is enough. You have to tell me what Darrell has over you. I have a right to know what the hell is going on."

Jude's jaw worked, and I braced myself for an argument, because he obviously still didn't want to tell me, but I just as obviously couldn't back off this time. I needed to know.

"I –" Jude started, then stopped.

His shoulders were rigid, his eyes downcast.

"Hey," I said softly. I closed the gap between us and touched his arm. "It's okay. You can tell me."

He gave a short, bitter laugh.

I waited.

Jude sighed again, a rough, pained sound, and reached out to snag the bottle of gin I'd left on the bar.

"It was two and a half years ago," he said. "Angels & Demons were at the top of the fucking world. Money was rolling in – more than we'd ever seen in our lives, and we were spending it almost as fast as we got it. Strippers, parties, drugs, cars, you name it, we bought it. We were above the rules. We'd take private jets to strip clubs and waitresses would bring us lines of coke or pills on silver fucking trays. We didn't even have to ask for it. We'd have competitions to see how many girls we could hook up with in a single night. We trashed bars and hotel rooms and venues, and none of it mattered. Nobody stopped us – hell, they encouraged it. All part of the image, right? We were fucking untouchable and nobody gave a shit who we hurt along the way."

I had to admit, that hadn't occurred to me either. I'd never considered that for every room they trashed, someone had to clean it up and repair the damage. I'd never thought about how frustrating it must have been for everyone else in the hotel, unable to sleep because of noisy, hard-partying rockstars.