Then I looked to him.
“Do you know anything about train tickets?’
His chin shifted back into his neck. “Say what?”
“Train tickets. Like, if you have one for one time, can you get on one for another time?”
“When’s your train leave?”
I was not telling him that.
“Do you know the answer to my question?”
“No.”
Again.
Why did I come to Chicago?
I looked him in the eyes. “Go back to your girl, Jesse.”
“When’s your train leave, Lyla?”
I changed my mind in order to answer and hopefully end this conversation.
“Tomorrow at ten,” I told him. “And I just need to get to the station and hang out until then.”
“That’s a lot of hours from now.”
Whatever.
I made to walk again but Jesse stepped in front of me.
“You can’t be a girl alone waiting all night in the train station in Chicago.”
He was right.
But this was my only choice because I was a huge idiot.
I was wrong about that night in that motel room.
Preacher McCade wasn’t what he’d convinced me he was.
He was what I’d thought he was when I first saw him and that band.
A rock stud out to get laid.
Okay, so he was an insanely good-looking rock stud.
But he was a rock stud.
And I didn’t need this.
Not now.
Especially not now.
He’d already kicked me when I was down…twice.
No, counting him pretending to be what he was not in that motel room, it was three times.
So, I definitely did not need this.
Oh yes.
I was a huge idiot.
“We have a suite,” Jesse said. “We’ll take the bed, you take the couch, and I’ll get you in a taxi tomorrow to meet your train. Deal?”
“I’m not going to cramp your style with your girl and I’m not getting anywhere near Preacher.”
He lifted his hands up to his sides, palms out in the “don’t shoot” gesture and shook his head. “No Preacher.” He crossed his heart. “My vow. And we got a door.” He grinned. “And we’ll be quiet.”
I blew out a breath and looked beyond him. “You shouldn’t need to be quiet, reunited with your girl.”
“She isn’t loud anyway, Lyla,” he cajoled. “Come on. Yeah?”
I studied him, and as I did, I realized it was going to rain and it was scary cold as only Chicago could be.
And I probably would be okay, hanging all night at the train station.
But then again, maybe I wouldn’t.
And what happened when you took a taxi and couldn’t pay?
Did they arrest you?
“No Preacher?” I asked dubiously.
His face got hard. “Way he played tonight, babe. No Preacher. No fuckin’ way. That’s a promise.”
I didn’t know where the L was.
I might not have enough money for a taxi.
It was cold.
My train didn’t leave for at least nine hours.
It was about to rain.
And I was a massive idiot, coming to Chicago without any emergency cash, not even knowing why I was there.
“I’m out of there if he shows,” I muttered, turning back and deciding I liked Jesse because he looked very relieved, and I was telling myself this was because he was getting me out of the cold.
“He won’t show,” Jesse assured me.
He fell in step beside me again as we walked back.
[Off tape]
Do you know who told Preacher that you were there?
Yes.
Josh.
I would not put it past that guy to follow Jesse when he chased after me.
But I saw him in the lobby when we came back, watching.
Everyone thinks it’s because he mouthed off to the press, that was why he was kicked out of the band.
But it wasn’t.
That was just the excuse Preacher used.
As contradictory as it was, and Preacher could be that, it was because Jesse had made me a promise, even if, in the end, it was a promise Preacher wouldn’t have wanted him to keep.
But Josh made it so Jess couldn’t keep it.
And Preacher was all about keeping promises.
That is why Josh was kicked out of the band.
Because he’s…a fucking…sneak.
And Preacher McCade could not abide a sneak.
Jesse introduced me to his girl.
Her name was Cynthia.
And I did not like her.
I hid that from her and Jesse because really, it was none of my business.
In a few hours, I’d be out of there anyway.
I realized right away that it wasn’t that she didn’t want me around, I would have gotten that.
She didn’t care I was around.
Watching her, I could see she wanted to go back up to the big suite and party with the band.
Now, if Preacher was mine like I thought he was after that night we’d shared, and I hadn’t seen him in months, I would not want to party with anyone.
I’d just want Preacher.
Jesse got her talked into their room behind the doors and I threw down my bag, took off my coat and wondered if it’d be uncool to call Amber or Jen.
They could drive up and get me faster than it’d take for me to catch my train.
And they would.
But it was a long-distance call, and no doubt the hotel charged for those, and the band was big time now so a little charge to Indy probably was no big deal to them.
But that was not how I rolled.
And anyway, it was a lot to ask Amber or Jen.
So, I’d made my decision, I was going to stick with it.
I’d borrow some cash from Jesse to get to the station in the morning, I’d ask him where I could send the money to pay him back and I’d sleep in a hotel suite for the first time in my life.
On the couch.
That was okay by me.
It wasn’t in a big train station with strangers milling around me.
And I wasn’t wandering out in the cold in the middle of the night, trying to find the L.
Of course, this was what I told myself, but I knew no way I could sleep.
Preacher was close to me.
I closed my eyes tight then opened them and walked to the window.
I leaned my shoulder against it, then my head.
Okay, it didn’t suck, staring at Jesse’s view of Chicago, which was awesome.
My head thudded on the window, I jumped so bad when there was a hammering on the door.
“Jesse! Open the fuck up!”
“Ohmigod, Preacher,” I whispered, standing frozen and staring at the door.
More hammering and, “Jesse! Open the motherfucking door!”
Jesse opened a door, the one to the bedroom, and came careening out of it in his jeans, no shirt, no shoes.
Okay, evidence was pointing at the fact I should have braved the cold and rain and milling strangers in a train station.
“I’ll get rid of him,” he assured me as he hightailed it to the door.
“Okay, just to say, this is not a fun party,” Cynthia, in panties and a bra with smeared lip gloss, pouted from the doorway to the bedroom.
I couldn’t keep my eyes on her.
Jesse was opening the door.
“Preach—” he stared.