The Darkest Note: Dark High School Bully Romance (Redwood Kings Book 1)

The last thing I expect to see at the pop up event is my brother, but Rick is circling around the stage wearing a black T-shirt with the words ‘SECURITY’ on it.

I duck my head, tugging on my red wig in case he recognizes me. It’s a pretty futile adjustment.

It’s not like I’m invisible. I’ll be in front of him, playing the piano the entire time. At that point, there will be nowhere to run.

Still my heart thuds until I successfully sneak past and climb on stage.

The pop up event is being held in the park. Stars twinkle overhead and a gentle breeze teases my red hair. Out on the sprawling green lawn, the lounge places fancy tables and black chairs, inviting guests to sit and sample wine.

Gorge’s has never done an event like this before and I’m a little surprised that they would call me in. The chef tends to hold grudges and he wasn’t happy when I handed in my resignation letter. I was sure that my business relationship with the lounge was over.

My boots thud against the wooden steps. Behind me, string lights decorate a beautiful arch. It’s fitted with vines and flowers in bloom. From the beautiful fragrance sailing to the piano, I’m sure those petals are real.

It’s a beautiful set up. Well-thought out. So I’m not sure why Gorge’s waited until the last minute to ask me to play. Maybe their hired pianist bailed?

I lift the case and set my hand on the black and white keys. The first note shatters the air around me. People who were in their own worlds get drawn into mine, lured by a sound that speaks to something in their souls.

I don’t look up, but I can feel their inquisitive stares. It makes me antsy. I’m not in my element, here in the spotlight where the entire park can see and judge me, but I feel less nervous than usual.

My chin tilts higher as I shift to another note.

My heart is calm instead of beating like crazy.

Is it because of what happened at the homecoming dance with The Kings? I played the triangle in front of a crowd of fourteen-year-olds. Maybe it affected me more than I thought.

With a deep breath, I glance up.

And it doesn’t freak me out.

I glance at the piano again and then look up again.

My stomach doesn’t clench. In fact, it’s a little exhilarating to see how much people are enjoying my music.

It’s a victory. And after the week, no after the weeks that I’ve had, I needed one.

I’m okay.

For the first time since I can remember, I smile when I play. My fingers run over the keys, dancing to a rhythm that no one else understands. I close my eyes and let it flow how it wants to.

Music welcomes me. Envelops me. It’s a tide that sweeps over my entire body. Rough on the surface, fragile underneath.

I didn’t have time to prepare a hip-hop backing track or plan a concert that flows smoothly. This is just me. My blood. My heart. My everything. Like I shoved a hand into my chest and pulled out my intestines.

When I’m done, I hear applause. The pop up event is alive with movement. Waiters dip in and out of tables. Couples of all ages sit, entwined, facing the stage. Not a single table is free. In fact, there’s a line of customers watching and waiting beyond the velvet ropes that cordon off the event.

The shame returns, fierce and crippling. It’s worse this time because I know what it feels like to play as myself. The liberation. The authenticity. The wig and makeup feel even heavier on me now than they did before.

I hurry off the stage and nod at the two violinists who walk up next.

The manager of the event is underneath the drinks tent. He gives me a thumbs-up. I wave awkwardly in return.

My phone chimes.

I glance down in surprise when I see they deposited more than the agreed upon amount in my account. Since when did Gorge pay right after a performance instead of three days later?

I’m not going to complain. This will go a long way in putting something towards the rent.

“Hey.”

At the sound of my brother’s voice, a bucket of cold water splashes over me. After mom died, I gave him so many chances.

He’d just found out his mother was a drug addict and he had two half sisters who were just as poor and messed up as he was. It was probably a lot to take in. I understood.

But he didn’t reach out to us for weeks. And then, when we asked him for help, he told me to jump off a cliff. Maybe he didn’t use those exact words, but it was clear we were nothing but a burden to him.

I swore to cut him out of my life and pretend he never existed, pretend mom never told us he existed.

So why is there a part of me that wants to get a hug from him?

Keeping my back to him, I cough. “What?”

“I just wanted you to know that you play really… well…” He steps in front of me suddenly and his eyes widen with amazement. “Cadence?”

“How did you…” I realize I just gave myself away and redden. Terrified, I glance around, noticing all the waitresses giving us a weird look. Did they hear us?

His eyes bug. “It is you.”

I look up into my brother’s face. We first met a day after I received mom’s suicide note. He came to the house wearing dusty jeans, a stained button down and old sneakers. His hair was thick and wavy and he didn’t look anything like me or Vi.

If it wasn’t for the angry tears in his eyes and the way his voice broke when he demanded, ‘is she really dead’, I wouldn’t have believed he was my brother.

Today, Rick’s wearing a nice T-shirt and jeans without any rips or holes in them. His shoes are shiny black and his hair is nicely combed.

Rick frowns at me. “Why are you wearing a wig?”

“Not here.” I grab his arm and drag him away from the tent.

He stops me. “I can’t go anywhere. I have to work.”

“Where’s your post?” I whisper.

“That way.” He juts his chin at the edge of the park.

I follow him there, keeping my head down and walking swiftly. When we get to the cluster of trees, he stops me. “I can’t go any further than here or my manager might rip into me.”

A thousand thoughts are ripping through my head. How did he know it was me? Where has he been? How has he been? Why didn’t he help us when we needed him?

I force my tone to steady, refusing to look like an unhinged child in front of him. Despite my wig, green eyes and weird get-up.

He catches my eyes and his own well with a strange emotion. “You look just like her.”

“Who?”

“Mom.”

Immediately, guilt and anger set in. It’s a weird mixture that concocts in my heart and sends a burning sensation straight to my lungs. To be associated, in any way, with my mother is like a punch to the gut.

“She came to visit me one time.” He kicks at a rock. “Dressed like that. With the red hair. Didn’t know it was her at the time. She never introduced herself to me.”

I cross my arms over my chest and force air into my lungs. “Guess that answers how you recognized me.”

“Aren’t you too young to be playing in wine bars?”

Gorge’s never asked about my age or my real name, which is one of the reasons I loved working there.

“Aren’t you too busy with your own life to care about what I’m doing with mine?” I shoot back.

His eyebrows wrinkle and a flash of guilt passes through his brown eyes. He hides it quickly by ducking and laughing.

“You’ve got a temper just like her too.”

“Stop comparing me to mom,” I snap. “You barely knew her.”

“Oh, I wish I’d never known her. Trust me. If she’d stayed out of my life the way she always had, things would have been simpler.” His deep scowl makes me wonder if he knows more than he’s letting on.

Annoyance needles my skin. “Don’t worry. We’re not going to crash into your life and disrupt it like mom did. Are we done here?”

It’s hard to look at him right now. He’s complaining about knowing mom for a few months while I’ve been dealing with her crap for years. Knowing that, he still hasn’t shown any bit of care. He turned his back and left me to deal with the fallout.

It’s fine. I’ve never seen him like a brother anyway. But sometimes, having hope and getting disappointed instead is worse than never having it at all.

“No, Cadence. We’re not done here,” he says with a huff.

Emotions are starting to burn the back of my eyes. “What do you want from me?” I scream.

Yelling is the only way I’m going to keep the tears from spilling. I’m exhausted. Physically and mentally stretched to my limits.

“Look, I know you hate me right now. And to be honest, I don’t particularly like you or what you represent. You look so freaking much like her and it messes with my head.”

I scrape at an angry tear that falls down my cheek.

He looks down at me, red in the face, like he’s fighting tears of his own. “But I’ve had it hard. It’s not because I want to shut you out, okay?”

“You have it hard?” I hiss. “Try being seventeen and going to the fanciest school on a work scholarship. Try staying back to clean classrooms and then running to the diner to work a shift. And then playing music in a lounge at night because you need rent money. Oh, and speaking of rent money, try getting a notice in the mail saying you’ve defaulted on a loan!”

His eyes widen and he takes a step toward me. Hands on my shoulders, he croaks, “You got a mail saying what?”

“Get off me.” I shrug his arms away.

Still looking dazed, Rick drags a hand over his mouth. “There’s been a mistake. You weren’t supposed to get any letters.”

I freeze. His words bounce around in my head, but they’re not making sense.

He pulls his lips into his mouth, looking defeated.

“You’re the one who’s been paying the bank.” The puzzle pieces come together as I speak. “You—of course. Mom wouldn’t have been responsible enough to work anything out with them. It was you who’s been paying our rent since she…”

“I didn’t want to tell you. But I lost my job and I had to scramble to get another one. This gig,” he gestures to the security uniform, “is so I can make enough to cover both our rents. But I keep falling short every month. I haven’t been able to keep up with the payments.”

Shock ripples through me. No wonder he snapped at me when I asked why he didn’t take care of the electric bill like he promised. He’d already been extending himself trying to cover our loan.

Mom never left anything for us. Her last act as our mother was to dump the responsibilities on her children’s shoulders.

I turn around because it hurts to hear the truth. There was a part of me that thought she’d changed at the end. Maybe she’d really done something selfless for once.

It’s a blow to learn I was wrong.

It’s a blow to learn that my half-brother has been taking care of us while I’ve been resenting him.

It’s a blow to learn that so many things I thought I knew were lies.

My head pounds.

“Cadence.”

“You won’t have to take care of our rent anymore,” I finally spit out.

“Don’t.” I wrench my arm back before he can touch me. “We really have been a burden to you. I get why you resent us. If I’d known, I would have taken care of it sooner.” My nostrils flare. I’m talking big, but I don’t have a way out. I feel like I’m drowning. Everything inside is pulling so tight that I can’t even breathe.

Mom just keeps throwing me surprise after surprise, except all her ‘gifts’ blow up in my face. I’m not sure how many more of her secrets I can take.

“Wait.” Rick puts his hand on my shoulder.

“Get your hands off her,” a voice hisses through the night.

As I’m feeling the most fragile and battling a screaming chaos in my head, Dutch steps into our line of sight.

I watch him and the broken shards that linger in the depths of my soul, scattered from years of living with pain and heartache, comes alive. A snake rising from smoke.

The chaos in me gets louder. Wilder.

I’m out for blood tonight.

And I’m going to take that pound of flesh from Dutch.

DUTCH

She’s wild. Fiery. Mine.

Mine.

That certainty clicks into place when I see Redhead standing close to a security guard.

Cadence has been messing with my head and tearing past my defenses. I’ve got a thing for her and it’s stronger than even I would like to admit. But it’s nothing like this.

Damn. When I heard Redhead play tonight, it wasn’t just my pants that tightened. My heart, my lungs, my fingers, everything responded to her. She’s what music is supposed to be. Everything my music isn’t.

Now, standing so close to her, it’s like a switch has flipped.

Again.

But this time it’s firmly locked on Redhead.

I’m doing everything I can to control myself. Because my hand is begging me to inch over her waist and drive her into my side. It’s not just a physical thing. It’s more than that.

I need her on my skin like a balm on a burn victim. Need to breathe her in until whatever she’s made of is what I’m made of too.

My steps are long and angry. I don’t stop until I’m right beside her.

“Who the hell are you?” the security guard warns. He’s about my height with broad shoulders and brown eyes. There’s something familiar about his face, but I’m too angry to place it.

“Me?” I nod at Redhead. “I’m her number one fan.”

She snorts. “He’s my stalker.”

“You’ve got a stalker?” The security guy takes a threatening step forward.

I square up, ready to take him. It’s been a hell of a long week. Cadence has been out of school and Christa’s been bothering me everyday, asking if I’m ready to pull the trigger.

With one phone call, she can end it.

I just have to find a reason to get Cadence on the board’s radar.

Easy.

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It’s the answer I want.

The answer I need.

But I’ve been hesitating to take it.

Insanity.

Sol’s waiting for me to break him out of prison. There’s no time to be wavering. I needed to get my head out of my butt crack. Fast.

Which is why I asked the lounge’s manager to do me a little favor.

I’m surprised Redhead took the bait.

She looks up at me with her fierce green eyes. I stare right back. She’s Cinderellaed me way too freaking much. Tonight, I’m not letting her go until I get what I came for.

Her eyes flick to the guard and she waves him away. “I got this.”

“We’re not done talking.” The guy has the audacity to put his hands on her in front of me.

I stalk forward, ready to slam his face into the next century.

Redhead beats me to it. She smacks his hands away and steps right into his space. “Leave us alone. We’ll take care of our own business from now on.”

He opens his mouth as if he’ll call to her, but I stare him dead in the eyes. Whether it’s the warning in my expression or the finality of her tone, but something convinces him to back the hell off.

Redhead is already a good distance ahead of me. I have to lengthen my stride to catch up with her.

“How did you know I was here?” she asks, not slowing down.

“I paid the lounge to set this up.”

She stops in her tracks. The eyes she pins on me are dark. There’s something wild about her tonight. I heard it in her music, when her fingers were banging on the keys like she had something to prove. And I see it right here, in the wrinkle between her brow and the tension in her lips. If anything, the music was only a glimmer of the chaos inside her. The chaos I feel in my own chest.

“So you really are a stalker.”

The words aren’t said in fear.

I take courage from that.

“Like I told that guy back there—” The guy who I really hope isn’t her boyfriend. Because, as I stated earlier, she’s mine now. “I’m your number one fan.”

“Thin line between that and a psycho.” She turns the bend, heading toward the parking lot.

Her fire makes something deep inside me come alive.

I need her.

It’s less of a thought and more of a physical reaction.

“Do you generally go around kissing psychos?” I ask, hot on her tail.

Her heels skid against the pavement. Her red hair swishes around her cheeks. She’s wearing a regular white blouse and black pants. Simple. Elegant. It reminds me a little of Cadence—

I shake my head to loosen the thought.

I’m here with the girl I want. The girl who moves me.

Nothing and no one else matters.

She purses her lips. “Is that what you’re doing? Getting revenge?”

“Why’d you stand me up that night?” I ask, getting closer to her. The fragrance of her perfume floats to me. It’s subtle and sweet. Like sunshine and vanilla. Like Cadence.

I press my eyes together and punch that thought in the face.

This is Redhead.

Redhead.

Not Cadence.

“What night?” she asks, tilting her head and batting her eyelashes innocently.

My insides light up in anticipation. She wants to play games? Fine. I’ll give her as much trouble as she’s giving me.

“You owe me a date, sweetheart.”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t owe you anything.”

“Then I’m the one who owes you.”

Her eyebrow quirks.

“I always repay my debts.” I lean down, getting close to her frustratingly sexy lips. “Can I show you how I plan to repay you?”

She turns it over in her head. I can see her thoughts churning.

“Come on.” I slide my hand to the small of her back. It feels familiar. Feels right. Like I’ve touched her a million times before.

“I’m not getting into a car with you.”

“Because I might be a psycho?”

“Haven’t we established that?” she returns cheekily.

I laugh. Everything about her delights me. I can’t explain it. Can’t even begin to make sense of it. But I would change everything about myself, become something entirely new for this girl.

“I figured you’d have your reservations. Which is why no cars are involved.” Jutting my chin at the building across from the park, I whisper in her ear, “Tell me what you want to do.”

She trembles slightly.

I breathe over her neck, right there against her collar bone. “If you accept, I’ll never show up in front of you again.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I will chase you to the ends of the earth.”

Her lips curl up. “A threat?”

“A promise.”

Her eyes flicker to my mouth before she juts her chin down. “Fine. But no names. No questions.”

“A mystery. How exciting.”

“A safety measure. I don’t want you chasing me anywhere.”

I extend my hand to her. “Come with me, Redhead.”

Her eyes dart away for a bit. I watch her hesitate, but I don’t move towards her. This has to be her choice.

When she finally puts her hand in mine, relief explodes in my chest. I grip her tightly and lead my mystery girl right into the dark.