Heart of Stone (Rock Star Fairy Tales #1)

Chapter 47

C h apte r 47

Work ing It Out

Evening, Sunday, Febr uary 22 nd in Margot’s Bus at The Hive in S ivas, Genc

T he drive to The Hive was silent, all three of them lost in their thoughts, no one daring to break the mood and open a discussion. Margot turned up her music and sang along, forgoing her angry girl music for more traditional driving tunes, the window down despite the chill in the air. When they wound through the back lot of the arena later that night, the security guards waved them on to park next to the two huge RVs and crew bus. Margot sat in the driver’s seat for a long moment, not in a rush to face Ash after the long day.

“Hey,” Nik said, typing on his phone, “they have dinner on the Party Bus if you’re hungry.” He glanced between her and Tobin. The fae hadn’t moved from his spot in the passenger seat either. “I can bring you something.” Undoing his seatbelt and standing up, he stretched and gave Margot a pointed look. “Though I don’t know where you both would eat in here.”

“We’ll manage,” she said, answering for Tobin. “Let’s not talk about how emotionally closed off I am again, Nik.” Tobin’s head moved at that, giving her an appraising look. “There’s plenty of room in here for someone willing to co mpromise.”

Nik snorted. “Very subtle, Go. Cute.” He shook his head. “What am I telling the guys then? We’ll see you tomorrow at 3?” When she nodded, running both hands through her hair and shaking it out of its bun, he tilted his head. “You okay, Baby Go? I can stay.”

“No,” she told him. “I’m fine. Tell them I’m fine. I’ll see you all tomorrow. Just…” She twisted in the seat, not looking at Tobin at all. “Just give me the night , please.”

Her cousin nodded, reaching for the door, which opened without a sound to Margot’s relief. He hopped down and turned to face them, hand on the new doorframe. “Look, I’m rooting for you two. I hope you can work it out.” He gave her a grin and a cheesy thumbs up, then shut the door. Despite the force he used, the door shut quietly, evidence of the decades of new technology in the new piece. The repair shop had done great work. Even the color of the new panels matched the cream exterior.

The silence in the bus was palpable, but Margot didn’t break it, simply waiting for Tobin to say something. Anything.

Finally, he turned to face her, body still facing forward. “I will leave,” he said quietly. “Just tell me to go.” When she didn’t speak, his head tilted back to hit the headrest, eyes filled with anguish. “Make me go away , Margot.”

“Do you want to go?” she asked quietly, voice neutral as she watched his face, this fragile Tobin she had glimpsed in small snatche s before.

“Don’t ask me what I want,” he told her. “I don’t deserve that. Tell me what you want me to do.” He closed his eyes. “Or just l et me go.”

“I’m not keeping you here, Tobin,” she reminded him. “You can leave whenever you want. You owe me nothing.” She thought of his oath but said nothing.

“I should go,” he whispered, looking away. He raised both hands to run through his hair, looking up at the ceiling of her bus.

“Because of Lord Rebinus?” she asked, for once saying the ri ght name.

“Yes.” He nodded. “But it’s more than that now.” He sighed. “I understand why Ash couldn’t le t you go.”

“Because I’m powerful,” she said with a long-suffering sigh. “Or I will be. I’m an important pawn in fae politics. I get it.”

“No,” he said, twisting to face her fully, hand reaching out to touch her. “Not for that.” Their hands met, loosely gripped in the space between the two seats. “No one has ever stood up for me before,” he said. “No one ever defended me to them.”

Margot frowned. “You mean Lady Drina?” She rolled her eyes. “I deal with bitches all the time. I can handle her. Besides, she was really rude to you.” She paused, then asked, “Is that how they t reat you?”

He shrugged. “Mostly. I expect it though. Lord Re binus is…”

“Not real popular, yeah.” She pursed her lips. “Is he as awful as they say he is? Be hones t, Tobin.”

Tobin considered, face running through an array of emotions. “He’s … not great. But none of the Lords are. You think your rock stars are selfish and greedy? They are nothing to fae Lords. They crave power and obedience—and it’s never enough.” He paused. “He’s not particularly kind to me, but he’s not awful, either. I have my freedom, mostly, so long as I accomplish my goals. He lives a life separate fro m my own.”

Margot raised an eyebrow at the odd phrasing, but she shook her head. “I’m going to ignore that—like I ignore every red flag from you—and ask you one question. Just one.”

“Okay,” he said, sitting up straighter, obviously preparing for someth ing awful.

“Do I have anything to fear from your Lord Rebinus?”

“No.” The word was out immediately, and she felt the truth in it, though it was a thin connection, a human gut reaction, not the full-body certainty she normally had with Tobin. She reached for that magical Connection but found e mptiness.

“What happened, Tobin?” she asked, her newly magical senses tingling with the missing spell. “Why can’t I feel you?”

“I…” His voice trailed off, and he closed h is mouth.

Margot watched him, this sexy stranger she had invited into her life, and realized that while she still longed for Ash, had worshiped him for years, her feelings for Tobin were somehow more … real. Loving Ash was like appreciating fine art or exquisite food or a great nigh t of sex.

Her relationship with Tobin was comfortable, based on mutual interests and physical attraction. She didn’t love him, nothing like that, but she liked him—and she didn’t want him to leave.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she said. “I know I keep badgering you with questions, demanding answers, but you don’t have to tell me. I’m here, and I’ll be here, and you don’t owe me anything. No promises. No oaths. Just you and me and a good time. For as long a s we can.”

“But your mother—” he said.

“Is that what this is about? Lord Rebinard—”

“Rebinus.”

“Yeah, he did that. Not you.”

Tobin’s face fell. “I didn’t stop him.”

“How could you? You were what 18, 19?” She paused. “Tobin, how old are you?”

“29 in thre e months.”

She did the math. Tobin was five years older than she was, and her mom died when she was 15. “Okay, so 20 then. Besides, how could you have stopped him? He Cla imed you.”

“I stopped him,” Tobin said quietly. “Just not in time.”

Margot quirked an eyebrow, confused at his words. Before she could ask, Tobin released her hand and stood up, moving to stand in the space between the door and her bed. “Margot,” he began, “do you really want me?”

“That’s a dumb question,” she replied, watching him carefully. “You know I want you.”

He smirked, but it was fleeting. “I mean me.” He tapped his chest. “Myself. Do you want to know me, really?”

“I have no claim on you, Tobin. I release you from your oath. I want you to be here because you want to be. You choose to be. But if you’re asking what I want, the answer is yes. I want to know you. I like you. And I know that you’re hiding things from me, but it’s okay. I can live with some secrets.”

“What if you don’t like what you find?” he asked.

“Why don’t we deal with that as it arises?” she suggested. “I’m sure you won’t like everything about me.” She stood up, meeting him where he stood. “Isn’t that what couples do? They wor k it out?”