The Rocker Who Wants Me (The Rocker... Series) Read online

  The Rocker Who Wants Me

  Copyright 2014 Anna Henson

  All rights reserved by the author. This is a work of fiction. Any characters, names, places or incidents are used solely in a fictitious nature based on the author's imagination. Any resemblance to or mention of persons, place, organizations, or other incidents are completely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any other means without written permission from the Publisher. Piracy is not a victimless crime. No individual/group has resale rights, sharing rights, or any other kind of rights to sell or give away this book. This is the author’s livelihood. Please respect her rights.

  This is a work of fiction intended for MATURE audiences. Recommended for readers 17 and older due to strong language and sexual situations.

  Edited by Lorelei Logsdon

  Cover and Formatting by ShoutLines Design

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Playlist

  Contact Terri

  A Teaser from Deeper by Mellie George

  First I need to say a HUGE thank you to YOU, the fans. Without you there would be no The Rocker… Series. You keep demanding more and therefore I keep providing. You make me want to write until my fingers bleed with your love for my Demons and now for Axton, and for that I will be eternally grateful. Thank you for your continued love and support.

  To my BETAs who I would be lost without. You girls keep me straight and I would seriously be lost without your most valued input.

  To my BEST friend in the freaking world, Felicity ‘Flick’ Boulton. Without you, Demon’s Wings Fan page would be a pile of rubble. Thank you for all your hard work and keeping our Demons alive for everyone.

  Lastly, but never the least, thank you to my husband, Mike Browning, who is always my number one fan. Without your love, support, and continued understanding of my messy office, erratic mood swings, and all around craziness I would not be able to do any of this. You are not only an amazing husband but an awesome PA and business manager. I love you to the moon and back!

  Dallas

  To say I was exhausted would have been the understatement of the entire year. It was December, so that was saying a lot.

  It was a good tired, however. After a twelve-hour shift in the ER where I had been run off my feet with one medical emergency after another, I’d stayed over and helped bring Lana and Drake Stevenson’s daughter into the world. My beautiful little ‘niece’ was healthy and perfect. Neveah was already a heartbreaker and I was going to teach her everything I knew about busting balls.

  I left the new parents alone and took Neveah to the nursery so that Lana could get a good night’s sleep before her family descended on her and her husband in the morning. Thankfully I had the day off tomorrow and I was going to take advantage by sleeping in. Maybe Linc would make me some pancakes.

  At the thought of my roommate’s decadent breakfast, my stomach growled, letting me know that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast before my shift. That had been nearly twenty-four hours ago. Sighing, I pulled out the little money I always carried with me just in case I had to make a stop at a vending machine. Most days that was how I had lunch because I was too busy to stop for a decent meal.

  Opening the door to the waiting room, I only had eyes for the vending machine. Funyuns or a Snickers?

  Two steps inside the maternity floor waiting room and a need other than hunger suddenly consumed me. I faltered taking my next step as my head turned and zeroed in on Axton Cage, the only man who could ever evoke such a need in me. He was sitting in the corner of the dimly lit room, his phone in hand but his eyes glued to me. My nipples instantly hardened and I clenched my thighs together as my panties grew wet. My typical reaction to the Rock God.

  He had been in the delivery room with Lana and Drake the entire time she had been in labor and then when she pushed Neveah out into the world. I hadn’t said a word to him the entire six hours. No way was I going to stress my friend out during one of the most amazing—and amazingly painful—times of her life. So I had ignored everything and everyone, focusing on all the training I had gotten during my rotation for obstetrics. It hadn’t ever been my first choice to do maternity, and it wasn’t going to change any time soon. But for Lana I had made the exception, wanting to be with her for such an awe-inspiring moment.

  Axton and Lana’s father, Cole Steel, had kept quiet during the whole six hours of labor. I figured they had thought that as long as they remained mute Lana wouldn’t scream and toss them out. She hadn’t paid them much attention, too focused on breathing through her pain. Crazy bitch hadn’t wanted an epidural. Drake had been pretty strong during the whole thing, even if I had seen the terrified look on his face as he helped bring his daughter into the world.

  My hunger forgotten for the moment, I started to turn back to the door. I didn’t have the energy to deal with Axton tonight. Hell, I doubted I would ever have the energy to deal with him. We only ever did two things well and both normally drained me to the point of no return. Sex wasn’t on the agenda and never would be again. That only left fighting.

  “Dallas…” His tone was almost imploring. Almost. Axton didn’t normally beg, unless it was for my mouth on his dick. It was enough to make me pause with my hand on the doorknob but not to turn around.

  It shouldn’t hurt this much to be in the same room with him. If I hadn’t been so tired I wouldn’t have had to fight to keep my chin from trembling. I would have been able to reinforce the walls he had forced me to build around my heart.

  “We never did get to talk after Shane’s wedding.”

  I clenched my jaw, the reminder of our last weekend together giving me enough fuel for my anger to dry my tears and to turn around and glare at him. “Yeah, well it wasn’t anything I wasn’t expecting. All she ever had to do was say your name and you would go runnin’ back to her.”

  He stood and tossed his phone on the seat beside him as he took a few steps toward me. As always he was acting casual, as if my anger didn’t bother him. That was how it had always been with Ax. He brushed everything off like it didn’t matter. It was one of the reasons why it was so easy to think he would never care about me the way I needed. “I had to go, Dallas. She was going to call the cops. Liam had drugs all over her apartment and if her nephew had gotten hold of any of them…” He broke off, his jaw clenched as if he couldn’t stand to continue.

  “So of course she called you.” I nodded, my heart breaking a little more. “Not Wroth who is his cousin, or even Zander or Devlin who could just as easily have handled it. Because you always know how to fix what is wrong for her. Because she can’t do anything without you there to hold her freakin’ hand.”

  Axton sighed and thrust his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “You have nothing to worry about when it comes to Gabriella and me. We’ve been over for a long time, baby. She means nothing to me. Less than nothing.”

  This wasn’t the first time he had said those exact words to
me. In the beginning of our relationship—if you could even call it that—I’d been sure that he was messing around with Gabriella Moreitti behind my back. The first night I had met the little Italian rocker I’d accused him of having sex with her during a party. He’d never denied it, just laughed it off. If anything he thought that my jealousy was amusing.

  Stupid little blonde girl, already in love with him, jealous of everyone that even looked at her man.

  That was how it had felt when he had laughed at me. Words that my mother would have used, mocking me in that laugh. It was true, though. I had been stupid. Stupid to have continued our sham of a relationship after that night. For wanting to work it out with him even though I was so insecure, convinced that he was cheating on me. I’d fought so hard to keep us together while he had just let me walk away in the end.

  It was also true that I had been in love with him back then. I had fallen fast for him. He was everything I wanted, everything I’d needed. And the sex… The few lovers I’d had before Axton Cage had evaporated from my mind the instant he had touched me. But it hadn’t been true that I was jealous of everyone that so much as looked at him. There was no reason for me to be jealous of every other woman in the world.

  There were plenty of reasons to be jealous of Gabriella Moreitti, though.

  The biggest was her name inked into his wrist. A tattoo that had been on his skin for years now. If he was through with that troll bitch then why was he still wearing her name?

  “We could never work,” I told him as I boldly met his eyes. “I want something you will never be able to give me.”

  Hazel eyes narrowed on me. “Why? Because you’re with Liam now? Do you honestly think that he can give you what you want, Dallas? If anything, he’s the one with the Gabriella issues.”

  I stiffened at the mention of Liam. What the fuck? What did Liam have to do with anything? “I’m not with Liam.”

  “Bullshit. I saw you kissing him on Sunday.” His face tightened with anger. “His hands were all over you.”

  “What?” I blinked. Was I so tired that I was hearing things? No way had he just said that Liam was all over me. As much as I cared about him, I would never let him put his hands on me. Never. I could barely stand for people to touch me. It was a fucking miracle I could let Axton touch me as much as he had during our time together. I’d actually craved another human being’s touch—I still did. It wasn’t Liam that I craved, though, so I would never allow him to be ‘all over me’.

  I had been visiting Liam every Sunday since he had gone into rehab. For the first time Liam Bryant had gone willingly for treatment for his addiction. He was progressing admirably and as long as he had a good support group around him when he got out in a few short weeks, I was confident that he would be able to succeed this time around. When I had last seen him nearly a week ago he had kissed me before I left, but it was nothing like Axton was describing.

  Liam and I were friends, really good friends. The kiss he had given me was nothing more than that…

  The reality of what Axton was confessing to me suddenly hit me like a slap in the face. “Have you been followin’ me, Ax?” Was he stalking me?

  His hands clenched into fists, but he didn’t deny it. “Don’t change the subject, Dallas. If you’re with Liam now, just say so.”

  “I am not with Liam!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air, a sure sign that I was on the verge of an all-out tantrum. “I’ve just been helping him through his recovery. Something friends tend to do for each other.”

  “He’s a loser. Liam has never lasted more than a few weeks of sobriety after getting out of rehab, and this time isn’t going to be any different. He gets off on hot chicks wanting to fix him.” Axton stepped closer, his hands reaching out and catching hold of my elbows. “He isn’t good enough for you. Don’t let him pull you down.”

  I jerked back, truly disgusted with Axton for the first time since I had met him. “You’ve known him forever. Liam is your band brother, Ax. But you don’t seem to know anything about him. He’s stronger than you realize. All he needs is someone to believe in him. Now I understand why it’s taken him so long to make it this far with recovery. If this is how you and the rest of OtherWorld treat him then he’s better off with no one.”

  “Damn it, Dallas. Liam Bryant destroys everything he touches. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  I shook my head. “No need to worry, Rock God. I’m safe with Liam.” It’s you that always hurts me.

  Dallas

  Happy New Year.

  I glared at the cheerful banner that hung over the ER nurses’ station. Colorful balloons hung around each side of it. I didn’t need the banner to tell me that it was the end of one year, and come the end of my shift, I’d be going home to the beginning of a new one. The busyness of the ER told its own story of how wonderful it was.

  Stomach viruses. Flu. Heart attack. Two strokes. A sprained ankle. A tot with a broken wrist. It sounded like a nurses Christmas carol. It wasn’t. Christmas was over and done with. It was just typical evening shift for the busiest hospital in New York. Which made me question who had found time to hang that freaking banner in the first place? Someone was slacking and I couldn’t deal with working with slackers. It meant I had to bust my ass twice as hard and I was already running on fumes—or so it felt like.

  The only shining glory to it all was that I only had a few more days on my contract. By the end of next week I would be jobless and the woman I had been covering for would be back from maternity leave. Then and only then would I do a happy dance and celebrate with my two roommates with a night out at the club—something I hadn’t gotten to do in over two years.

  The radio system we used to communicate with inbound EMTs buzzed and I was the only one close enough to grab it. They were five minutes out with an unconscious MVA—motor vehicle accident—victim. A drunk driver had gone into oncoming traffic and collided head on with some guy’s sports car. We were getting the victim while another hospital was getting the drunk driver—who the EMT said merely had a broken nose from his airbag.

  I quickly scribbled down all the information as it was given to me and then rushed to get the closest trauma room ready. The patient hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt and had been tossed through the windshield on impact. Head injury, internal bleeding, and possible spinal injuries as well. I paged radiology. We would need X-rays, CT scans, possibly even an ultrasound to rule out major internal bleeding of the abdomen. The crash cart was ready and waiting, as well as the surgeon on call—one of the top rated surgeons in the country. Another doctor stopped beside me just as the ambulance pulled to a stop in front of the sliding double doors. I rushed with the two doctors and another nurse to help the EMTs unload the patient.

  I barely had a moment to take a quick glance at the man’s face before I was pushing him into the trauma room and starting to work on him. An IV had already been put in his arm, fluids pumping into him at the fastest speed possible. An oxygen mask was on his face, while the EMT kept pumping the bag, giving the patient oxygen manually. I wish I knew the guy’s name so I could talk to him. Let him know he wasn’t alone. But there had been no time for identification before he had been transported. In the trauma room we moved him from the gurney to the bed already set up. I started giving the meds the doctors called out for, X-rays were already being snapped even though the room was full of people.

  “Broken ribs,” the surgeon called out and the nurse that was there to assist me started punching it into a computer by the sink. “His spine is swollen. I can’t see if there are any breaks.”

  The IV in the patient’s arm suddenly collapsed and I didn’t even think before I started putting a new one in. Pushing up the sleeve of the man’s torn and bloody shirt, I started to search for a vein when the ink on his bicep caught my attention…

  Everything inside of me froze and I gasped. I knew that tattoo anywhere. The entire band had one somewhere on their body. A million things went through my head in the space of
a second. No, it can’t be! I reached for the oxygen mask and lifted it for a moment to confirm my worst fears. Tears pricked my eyes but I blinked them back. I couldn’t panic now. Not when he needed me to stay calm and do my job so that I could save his life.

  “Wait!” I cried when the other nurse started to give the medication the surgeon had instructed.

  “What?” three people demanded at the same time. In a situation like this every second counted and I was wasting valuable time.

  “We need to do a tox screen. He might… He might have cocaine or something just as harsh in his system.” I hated even thinking it, but Liam had just gotten out of rehab less than a week ago. It was just as likely he could have started using again as it wasn’t. I couldn’t risk his life if he had fallen off the wagon, no matter how badly I wanted to believe in him.

  “Do it!” the second doctor barked, and I didn’t hesitate to draw the blood. There was a machine in the room that could give us a read-out within a minute and I rushed to do it as the other nurse put the IV line in that I hadn’t finished.

  “Negative.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Liam hadn’t reverted to old habits and gone in search of a fix less than a week out of rehab.

  But his addiction wasn’t something to worry about at the moment. His ruptured spleen and lacerated liver were. A broken leg to go along with the ribs and dislocated shoulder were minor compared to the fact that with all the swelling, Liam was liable to end up in a wheelchair. The pressure in his brain was already becoming too much and the OR was paged to prep for multiple surgeries STAT.