The Rocker That Loves Me.

Terri Anne Browning.

Acknowledgements.

From the very first book, The Rocker That Holds Me, I've been in awe over how much this series has captured your hearts. I'm still left speechless by how popular The Rocker... series has become. This wonderful journey is so much more special for me with you, the fans, to travel it with me.

As always, I have to thank my husband for putting up with me and my craziness as I write these books for you. Without him there would be no Terri Anne Browning or The Rocker... series. It's his love and support that gives me the confidence and courage to keep doing this for you.

A special thank you to my wonderful BETA readers. They keep me on track and make sure I don't ruin anything for you readers.

What author could live without their editor? I know for sure that I couldn't! Max Dobson is a G.o.dsend and I would be grammatically lost without her.

Prologue.

It looked like the entire trailer park had shown up to pay their respects.

I kept glancing around, taking them all in; anything to keep my gaze from going to the one place I didn't want it to go, yet seemed unable to stop myself from drifting to-the casket and the woman lying there looking so peaceful...

My eyes landed on Mr. Thornton. Jesse's old man was in a pair of faded jeans and a b.u.t.ton down shirt that was too tight around his beer gut. His hair was actually combed for once, and it looked like he had taken the time to shave. His eyes were clear, something they rarely were. Mr. Thornton had liked Mom, I guess.

Nik was standing with his mom, really his aunt Sarah who had stepped in when his deadbeat old man died. She looked a little lost. Sarah and Mom had been friends, but we all suspected that there was something wrong with Nik's mom. She had been having horrible headaches lately and couldn't seem to remember things at times.

My gaze drifted past my friend and his mother, landing on random people here and there. A few girls from the west side of the trailer park were grouped together. I had screwed each of them once or twice, they were probably wondering which one of them would be lucky enough to comfort me later that night. I didn't want comfort from any of them.

Our landlady was talking to Drake, quietly rea.s.suring him yet again that she wasn't going to kick us out of our trailer. She liked Drake, mostly because he didn't complain when she made him do hard manual labor around the rundown old trailer park that she owned. That old biddy was probably scared out of her mind that we were going to pick up and leave and she'd have to find someone that wouldn't do half the things that my brother did and for more money.

For now we weren't worried about money. Mom had had a sizeable life insurance policy that had covered any possible death. Even suicide...

Something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye and I turned to find Ms. Jameson stumbling in the funeral home's entrance. She had Emmie's arm in a vice-like grip and was dragging the limping little girl behind her. Emmie nearly tripped and tried to hide her grimace of pain.

I wanted so badly to go to Emmie and take her away from that b.i.t.c.h. My brother had nearly gone to jail saving her from one monster, only for her to have to go home and face the one she had to live with every day...

A strong hand landed on my shoulder and squeezed. "How are you?" Jesse's deep voice asked quietly.

I shrugged his hand away. It wasn't that I didn't want the comfort. I just had so much on my mind right now, and a lot of the s.h.i.t I had tried so hard to forget came flooding back with a vengeance. I shuddered at the very thought of someone touching me...

"I'm fine," I a.s.sured Jesse, but of course it was a lie. I wasn't sure how I was, or even how I was supposed to be.

My mom was gone, and it was all my fault. I should never have opened my mouth. I should never have told my mom what had happened or why Drake had done what he had done to Rusty. If I hadn't then she wouldn't have killed her husband... She wouldn't have killed herself!

Tiny fingers gripped my hand. "I'm sorry your Momma is gone, Shane," Emmie murmured in a soft voice.

Some of the tightness around my heart eased as I glanced down at her. For the first time since my world had come crashing down the week before, I felt my eyes burn. I hadn't cried for my mom, or for anyone else. The shock had set in and I was just now unthawing. Crazy enough, it took Emmie to do the unthawing.

I bent down so we were eye level. She was barely nine, but she had seen so much in her young life that she acted years older. I was beyond relieved that Drake had been able to spare her the added nightmares of s.e.xual abuse on top of what she already had to go through daily.

"Thanks, Em." I reached out to push her hair back from her face and saw the bruise on her cheek. It was faded and I figured it was about a week old. Her legs and arms were a symphony of bruises at varying stages, ranging from pale yellow to dark blue and purple. I had to fight with myself every time I saw her like that not to call child services, but I knew that if Emmie was taken from her mom and put into foster care she could possibly end up in a place worse than where she was right now.

"Is it my fault?"

Her whispered question stabbed me in the gut, and I hugged her tight for a long moment before answering. "No, baby doll. This isn't your fault." I pulled back enough to meet her wet, green gaze. "Don't ever think that, okay? You didn't do anything wrong."

After a small hesitation she finally nodded. "Okay."

Jesse bent down and took her hand. "I saw some cookies, Emmie. Let's go get some."

Even though I could hear her stomach growling, Emmie shook her head. "No, I can't leave Shane. He needs me."

Sadly enough, she was right....

Chapter 1.

Shane.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and sat up, shaking off the memory of the dream from the night before.

I felt restless, which was nothing new for me. Sighing, I pulled on boxers and a pair of basketball shorts and headed for the kitchen with my shirt tossed over my shoulder. Drake's door was closed and I could hear him snoring as I pa.s.sed his room. I grimaced, feeling sorry for my brother. I had spent the last two days with Lana while he was chomping at the bit to see her again after so long.

I pulled out a bottle of water from the fridge and chugged half of it before pulling my shirt over my head and searching for my running shoes. I needed a run, something to clear my head of the dream that had haunted me the last few nights. Running always helped me see things clearer.

I took the stairs instead of the elevator so I could warm up. I nodded to the night doorman, who was still on duty, and put my earbuds in as I hit the pavement. Central Park was a few blocks away, and I headed in that direction as I stretched my calves.

The park was pretty dead at this hour, except for the occasional early bird jogger. I ran five miles before I stopped to get another bottle of water. I walked back to the apartment, cooling down but still feeling restless. I knew that it was because I hadn't had s.e.x in three days.

I should just hit up one of my usual clubs, blow off some steam with some stranger. But even as the thought went through my mind, I knew I wasn't going to do that. I didn't want to hit a club. I was tired of that whole scene...And that was just wrong for me. I couldn't remember a time when I didn't want s.e.x. I was used to getting it at least once a day. Three days was a new record for me. Was I getting sick? f.u.c.k, I needed to get my head on straight!

It was still early but I was sure that Drake was up and getting ready for work by now. I wasn't ready to see him again. He would just grill me about Lana and what we had done the day before and what she was doing today. That would just depress us both, and I wasn't in the right frame of mind to add depression to my list of emotions today.

Pulling my iPhone from the strap attached to my upper arm, I brought up Lana's picture and sent her a quick text. Bored! Where did you say that gym was?

I had walked more than two blocks before she responded with the address of the gym that she went to and her roommate worked at. Sighing, I turned my Red Sox cap around and reattached my phone to my arm before turning around. I was going to get a week's worth of exercise in one day.

The guy at the front desk gave me an overly fake friendly smile as I walked through the door. In my tattered baseball cap, worn basketball shorts, and holey T-shirt, I looked like I had about five bucks to my name. From the looks of the place, it didn't cater to the underprivileged.

I liked being comfortable when I ran and didn't give a s.h.i.t how I looked. If I was doing anything other than exercising, then I made sure I looked good. Emmie and the guys gave me h.e.l.l over it, but I liked the feel of designer clothes against my skin almost as much as I liked being behind the wheel of a car with some power.

"Can I help you?" Fake Guy behind the counter asked when I just stood there glancing around. From where I was standing I could see the weight room on the second floor, with the treadmills and other cardio equipment to the left of it. The gear I spotted was expensive stuff, and the guys lifting were major body builders.

I pulled out my wallet from the pocket of my shorts and handed over my California driver's license and my Visa. "A friend of mine recommended this place to me," I told the guy. "I'd like to start up a membership."

He took my card and license, frowning when he saw my name. His head shot up and the smile wasn't so fake this time. "Mr. Stevenson, welcome to Fit for Life." He pointed to his name tag like I couldn't see it. "My name is Geoff. I just need you to fill out these papers while I run your card."

I took the stack of papers attached to a clipboard and filled them out, cursing when I realized that half the things on the forms I had no clue how to answer. Emmie knew most of that c.r.a.p so I didn't have to worry about it. I grimaced, missing Emmie more and more as the days went on.

Emmie was my rock and now I was three thousand miles away from her. For the first time in my life, I was homesick, which didn't make sense when you thought about it. I hadn't even had a real home until last year when we had all settled down in Malibu. But Emmie was my home...

I left most of the pages blank, figuring the gym didn't need to know every little thing for them to give me a membership anyway. Geoff gave me my card and license back, along with a keychain card that acted as my pa.s.s to get into the gym itself.

"If there is anything you need just let me know. If you want to use our personal trainers they will be wearing blue T-shirts. It's one-fifty for the first session and two hundred after that. Just tell them to bill your account."

I headed straight for the weights upstairs. I had some decent muscles, but nothing like the Hulk-wannabes that were pumping iron like their life depended on it. Veins stuck out from all angles on their spray tanned bodies. As they increased the number of curls they did, the funnier their facial expressions were.

When I was done lifting weights-okay, when I was done people watching-I headed for the treadmills and other cardio equipment. Turning my baseball cap around, I picked up a towel and headed for an empty treadmill at the back of the room. The cardio room was full of more females than males, and I let my eyes wonder as I walked.

There was a cute brunette on a stair-climber who seemed more interested in the early morning talk show playing on the flatscreen television than what was going on around her. Two blondes on bikes were talking about the hair appointments they both had later in the day. The redhead behind them was listening intently as if she was being nosy. All of them were hot, but none of them kept my attention for more than a second.

Sighing, I hopped onto the treadmill beside an older woman with shaved brown hair and some serious muscles that really freaked me out since she was so small. She glanced over at me, nodded her head politely but otherwise didn't give me a second thought. Dressed like I was, it was hard to tell who I was. I also knew that in New York things were calmer than LA when it came to crazy fans.

I pulled my phone off my armband, scrolled through my playlists, and hit play. I had a weird list that included everything from country and pop to metal and techno. I hit the quick start b.u.t.ton and turned up the speed so that I was going at a steady pace.

Twenty minutes into my run I got a picture text from Lucy. It was a picture of her and the iguana that Drake had gotten into trouble over getting it for her. Of course Jesse was in the background making a funny face at the huge lizard. Since he couldn't seem to stand the pet, I wondered how he would react if Lucy got her wish and got a snake like she had been asking for. Jesse wasn't exactly a reptile lover.

I slowed down enough to send her a reply. As I finished and hit send, I noticed that the elliptical in front of me had a new occupant. My eyes were immediately drawn to the tightness of her thighs and a.s.s. My mind shut down for half a second, and I had to act quickly or I would have fallen off the d.a.m.n treadmill.

I hit stop and just stood there, watching female perfection as she mastered the piece of workout equipment. Her legs looked as if they went on forever. Her calves were bare and I noticed a hint of a honey tan to them. I wondered if she was tan all over or if she would have lines from her bikini. My d.i.c.k twitched at the idea of finding out.

Realizing that I was starting to drool, I closed my mouth and shifted my gaze higher. Her waist was narrow, almost nonexistent. The top she wore clung to her back, and I could see the outline of her sports bra. I couldn't see any tan lines on her shoulders, and of course my d.i.c.k liked that. Her neck was long, graceful, and exposed with her caramel hair pulled into a ponytail.

As she moved on the elliptical, I saw a tiny tattoo at the base of her neck but couldn't make out what it was. I wanted-needed-a closer look.

Wiping my face with my towel, I jumped off the treadmill and ducked between mine and the scary muscle chick to get to the elliptical next to the hottie. As I stepped onto it she glanced over at me and slowed her pace. She reached for her towel just as I realized who she was.

The two times I had seen her before she had been wearing dark framed gla.s.ses, but they hadn't hidden the unique purple of her eyes. She wasn't wearing gla.s.ses today, but contacts from the looks of it, which only enhanced the color. For the first time in my life I was hypnotized by a pair of sweet eyes.

"Hey!" She greeted me with a smile that made her nose scrunch ever so slightly at the end. "I thought you said that gyms weren't for you."

I was really glad I had changed my mind! "I got bored," I told her honestly, still captivated by her eyes. "Do you come here often?"

Her brow furrowed for a second and I bit the inside of my cheek. Really? Had I really just dropped that lame line? I could do better than that in my sleep. G.o.ds! Oh great, now I was falling into Emmie's habit of putting a plural on G.o.d. What the h.e.l.l was wrong with me?

"I'm usually here when I don't have a job lined up." Harper easily fell back into exercising while continuing to talk to me.

"You're a photographer, right?" I was sure that was what she had told me the first time I had met her. We had a brief conversation while I waited for Lana in the apartment she shared with their other roommates.

She seemed surprised that I remembered. I was kind of surprised myself. I didn't normally remember little details about women, the only exceptions being the ones in my family, and even then I didn't always pay close attention.

"Yeah, I'm doing freelance right now." Her nose wrinkled. "It pays the bills I guess."

"Don't your parents help out?"

The light that had filled those strange eyes of hers dimmed, and I wanted to kick myself. I was really putting my foot in it today. "I don't really talk to my parents unless I have to," she murmured and turned her attention back to the numbers on her elliptical.

Harper My thighs started burning long before I decided that I had enough of the elliptical. I reached for my towel and wiped the sweat from my brow and upper lip before taking a sip from my water bottle.

Beside me, Shane Stevenson, aka Hot Rocker Man, bounced off his own torture machine like he had another two hours of workout in him. For some strange reason he made me smile.

"So where to next?" he asked, taking his Boston Red Sox cap off and messing with his hair before putting it back on.

"I'm done." An hour was my limit, about enough to work off the desserts I seemed to be addicted to. "I'm hitting the showers."

His face fell and he actually gave me a little pout. "Ah, come on, Harper. Don't leave now."

That pout drew me in and I found myself relenting. "What do you want to do?"

Blue-gray eyes darkened and I saw firsthand the look that Lana had warned me about. Shane was supposed to be some bad a.s.s womanizer that could melt the panties of every female with a working libido. I just couldn't figure out why he was flirting with me...

"A few things come to mind." His voice was lower, husky.

If I said it didn't affect me I would be a liar. It seemed that my libido worked just fine because I was sure that my panties did melt a little, but I knew better than to take him seriously. Guys as hot as Shane didn't go for girls like me.

I grinned and pushed at his shoulder. "I'm starving. Let's shower and go get some breakfast."

"Or we could do that." He winked and walked with me toward the locker rooms. "I didn't bring anything with me to change into."

"Okay, I'll hurry then. Do you want to go back to your place to change?" I glanced at his shirt drenched in sweat that clung to his hard chest. "Or I could get you something from Linc's locker?"

"Do you think he would mind?" Shane frowned.

I shrugged. "I'm sure he won't, but if you want we can run upstairs to the private rooms and ask him. He and Lana should be close to done by now."

Blue-gray eyes narrowed at my words. "Lana is with Linc this morning?"

"Yeah, didn't she tell you? She and Linc are doing some kind of dance compet.i.tion. They practice two to three times a week, if not more. Linc pushes her really hard. He has a thing about winning."

Actually, I was sure that Lana was starting to dislike dancing on some levels because of Linc's drive. She wasn't enjoying it like she had a few months ago.

Or maybe it was because Drake Stevenson was in town. Lana had told me about her relationship with the older Stevenson brother, or lack of one if you looked at it that way, so I knew she had to be hurting and conflicted about his sudden relocation to the East Coast.

"Let's go ask Linc." Shane gave me a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, and I had a sudden crazy thought that maybe Drake wasn't the only Stevenson brother with a thing for my friend.

Why that thought bothered me, I couldn't say. It was almost startling the way my heart felt like it was being stabbed with a stickpin, but I ignored the dull ache and led him over to the stairs. Music was still playing behind the door. Normally, the room was used for the Zumba cla.s.ses that I sometimes climbed out of bed for.