His Secret Obsession by Nichole Rose

 

Chapter Five

Cyrus

 

"Sir, I've already explained that I cannot give out guest information," the girl at the front desk says, her voice firm. I don't think she likes me much. Understandable considering that Gwen fled my room in tears a few short hours ago. But I don't care if this girl likes me or not, all I care about is Gwen. She said it's too late to fix this, and I'm terrified she means it.

But I have to try. The thought of letting her go is a weight sitting on my chest, slowly crushing me. It's killing me to know just how long I've been hurting her and just how badly. I have to fix it. I owe her that much. Even if she never forgives me, she deserves to know the truth.

"I'm not asking you to give out guest information," I growl. "I'm simply asking you to call her damn room and tell her that I need to speak to her about an urgent matter." I can see as I say it that she's not going to do it, so I pull out the big guns. "Your new boss is Jax Archer."

"Yes," she says, her tone full of hesitation.

"Call him."

"Sir, I'm not calling Mr. Archer at three in the morning."

"Fine," I growl, jerking my phone out of my pocket. "Then I'll call him."

She throws her hands up in the air, clearly out of patience with me. Not that I blame her. She doesn't know me from Adam, and all I've done since I walked through the doors was growl at her. I can't fucking help it though. I feel like I'm plummeting from the sky at a thousand miles an hour. If I hit the ground, the devastation will be endless. I survived Iraq and the nightmares and guilt. I won't survive losing Gwen.

I turn my back on the front desk attendant and dial Jax. He answers on the second ring.

"I need a favor," I say, not wasting time. "I need you to tell your front desk attendant to call Cami Reynolds and get her down to the lobby."

"It's three in the morning, brother," he says.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" I growl. "I can tell the fucking time."

"I thought you were going back to base."

"Can you get her down here for me or not?" I ask, ignoring his question. Maybe I did tell him I was going home, but I'm not the only one keeping secrets. He waited until two hours ago to tell me he's in love with my sister. He thought I'd be pissed.

Truth is, I'm jealous as hell. I've known for a while that he and Jessa were in love but seeing him strolling out of their apartment tonight to send me home was unexpected. So long as he's good to my sister, I'm happy for them. But it fucked me up to see him looking so peaceful when I feel anything but. It fucked me up even more to realize I'm the reason he hasn't pursued her before now. He didn't want to hurt me.

I've been making everyone miserable for far too goddamn long. Gwen would rather let me go than look at me right now. Even though she has every right to feel that way and I don't blame her for it, it hurts like hell because I know I caused it. I know it's my fault. She's the one thing in this world that made me want to get better. And I may have lost her.

I know I'm acting crazy, waking up a superstar at three in the fucking morning. But I don't have another choice here because I can't let Gwen go on thinking I don't believe in her. Even if she never forgives me for pushing her away, she deserves to know there's no one in this world more talented than she is. She deserves to have everything she ever wanted.

"Is this about Gwen?" Jax asks.

"It's always been about her."

"I'll get Cami Reynolds down there," he says with a sigh. "But Cyrus? Do not piss her husband off and get your stupid ass locked up tonight or your sister will kill us both."

"Noted."

"Good luck," he says and then hangs up on me.

"You're persistent," Piper—the front desk attendant—says, shaking her head.

"Yeah, well, you would be too if you were about to lose the love of your life," I mutter, still annoyed she wouldn't call Cami for me even though it's not really her fault. There are probably a dozen rules forbidding it, especially for well-known guests like Cami and Bentley Reynolds. I'm guessing I'm not the first asshole who tried to get their room information tonight.

"You're in love with Gwen," Piper says, her expression softening slightly.

"Since the day I met her."

"You're Jessa Jordan's brother, aren't you?"

"Yeah." I scrub a hand down my face, tired all the way to my bones, and worried as fuck about Gwen. She's sassy and fearless and independent. She's been giving me hell since the day I met her. I've never seen her cry like she did tonight. The devastated look on her face is haunting me.

She's too upset to listen and I'd probably just fuck it up again if I tried to explain, so I'm just going to have to show her how I feel about her. By the time I'm done, my obsession won't be a secret anymore. Everyone will know how I feel about the petite little queen who rules my world.

Before Piper can say anything else, the hotel phone rings. She picks it up quickly and says hello. Her gaze flicks to me and then quickly away. "Ah, yes he is, Mr. Archer."

"Fucking finally," I curse.

"Yes, sir," she says and then pauses to listen to whatever he's saying to her.

I glance down at my phone, running my finger over the picture of Gwen on the home screen. She and Jessa have their arms linked and their heads together as they dangle their feet in the water at the lake. They're both laughing at something in the distance. Neither of them noticed me taking their picture, but Gwen looked so damn sweet that day, I couldn't help it.

She may kick my ass when she sees how many pictures I have, but at this point, I don't care. Maybe I am obsessed and crazy and a million other things. But that woman is my purpose, my soul. I'll be as crazy as I have to be to make her see it too.

"Well," Piper says a minute later, replacing the phone in the cradle before picking it up and dialing again. "It looks like it's your lucky day. I'm calling their room for you now."

"Thank you."

I pace away from the desk, too restless to stand still. I want to call Gwen to check on her, but I know she won't answer. Hell, she probably has me blocked by now. She certainly ran fast enough to get away from me.

I'm sorry, angel. I am so fucking sorry I didn't see sooner how much I was hurting you.

"Cami will be down soon," Piper calls from behind me.

I bow my head, sending up a prayer of thanks. And then I resume pacing. Five minutes creep by and then ten. And fifteen. I'm heading back to the desk to demand Piper call her again when the elevator lights up.

Cami and Bentley Reynolds tumble off three minutes later, looking about as opposite as two people can. Cami is petite and curvy like Gwen, with dark hair and big doe eyes. Bentley looks like a fucking Viking. He's as big as I am, with dark blond hair and hard blue eyes. They're both rumpled like they were in bed, but I'm pretty sure I didn't wake them up. At least not judging from the red marks on Cami's neck and the fresh scratches down Bentley's arms.

I don't know much about music, but I do have ears and they work just fine. Bentley and Cami can both sing their asses off. Like with Gwen, it's pure talent for both of them, not manufactured bullshit. If anyone can help me with Gwen, I know these two can.

"Who the fuck are you and why are you asking for my wife at three in the fucking morning?" Bentley growls, his expression hard as his eyes come to me.

"Bentley," Cami says, her voice soft. She places a hand on his stomach and quietly shakes her head. I think she sees something on my face because she gives me a sympathetic look. "The front desk said you needed to speak to me about an urgent matter?"

"Yeah," I say. "I need your help."

"With what?" Bentley growls.

"My girl, Gwen." I scrub my hands on my pants, suddenly nervous. I don't care that they're megastars or whatever they're called. But I do care about Gwen. And if Cami won't help me, I'm not sure I'll ever be able to show her just how much I believe in her. "I asked her to marry me tonight. But I'm an asshole and I fucked it all up. I need you to help me fix it."

"Fix it how?" Bentley asks, still scowling at me.

"I don't know, but you know people. Record label people."

"Gwen sings?" Cami asks.

I nod, reaching into my pocket for my phone again. I pull up the videos I've saved of her singing and hold the phone out to Cami.

Bentley grabs it before she can.

"Bentley," Cami says.

"What? I don't like or trust him," he complains, checking my phone over like he expects it to blow up in his hands or some shit. "It's three in the morning and he looks like shit. He could be a stalker for all we know."

"I'm not," I say, though I leave out the part about stalking Gwen. Call me crazy, but I don't think that'll win me any points here. "My name is Cyrus Jordan. I'm an officer in the Air Force. I'm stationed at Arnold's Air Force Base outside of Tullahoma."

"That airfield was decommissioned."

"It's an aeronautical research facility now," I say, nodding. "But the Air Force keeps a handful of us stationed there to work with civilian teams on research projects. I'd tell you to check with the commanding officer, but that's me. My staff sergeant, Drew Hudson, can vouch for me if you need it. So can Darren Jones, the civilian director of the facility."

Bentley grunts like he doesn't believe me, but he reluctantly passes the phone to Cami, who has her hand out for it. I thrust my hands in my pocket, waiting impatiently for them to listen to the song. Cami taps the screen and Gwen's voice fills the lobby.

"Oh, wow," Cami whispers, her expression softening as she watches Gwen on the screen. The video is from a little over a year ago, right after I got back from Iraq. She did a cover of How Do I Live by Leanne Rimes. I'll never forget watching her wipe away a tear at the end and wishing like hell she was thinking about me. I didn't know it then, but she was singing about me. I think she's been singing about me for years. "She's so pretty."

"Jesus Christ," Bentley mutters, peering over Cami's shoulder at my phone. "That's live?"

"Yes," I say, pride welling in my chest.

"Does she play?"

"Piano and a little guitar."

"She's good," he says.

"She's really good," Cami says, glancing from the video to me. "Does she have a manager?"

I shake my head. "She's in college," I explain. "But she's moving to Nashville after she graduates. She wants to follow in her grandma's footsteps. She needs a manager and a label and all that shit. Someone who recognizes her for the gift she is."

"What's her name?"

"Gwen London, uh, Gwendolyn London."

Cami's brows furrow when I say her name. "London? Is she related to Clara London?"

"Clara was her grandma."

"Clara is a legend," Cami says to Bentley. "One of the most popular backup singers in the 1950s and 60s. She sang for Glen Campbell and George Jones. She even sang with Loretta Lynn and Patsy Cline." She turns back to me. "She died?"

"When Gwen was sixteen."

Cami's face falls, her eyes going back to the screen as Gwen belts out the song. She watches for another minute and then looks at me again. "How can I help?"

"Cami," Bentley says, frowning. "We don't even know if she wants your help, little dove. He could be up to some bullshit for all we know."

"She thinks I asked her to marry me to keep her from performing," I say, laying it all out on the table. He doesn't have to like me. He doesn't even have to trust me. Hell, I don't blame him. I'd be suspicious too. But if I can get her in front of the right people, she has a chance. "I'm just trying to show her that she's wrong. I'm not asking you to believe me. I'm just asking you to give her a chance. Let her sing for you. And then you can decide if you want to help her or not."

"So she's pissed at you and you think this will fix it?" Bentley asks, not giving an inch. "Maybe if she thinks you don't support her, it's because you haven't. Maybe she has a right to be pissed. Too many assholes in this world think women should live to serve them. For all we know, you're one of them."

"I am an asshole," I admit. "I've been fucking up with her for years, and I've hurt her a million different ways. But there isn't another woman alive who can sing the blues like she can. I'll do whatever I have to do to make sure she gets the chance to do it."

"Even if it means giving her up?" he asks.

Fuck.

If it comes right down to it, and I have to let her go to live her dreams, it'll destroy me. There's no way I'll survive that. But if that's what it takes, if making her dreams come true means losing her, then I'll live with that pain. So long as she's happy, I'll find a way to live with it. Her happiness is all that matters to me, and I've spent far too goddamn long being the source of her pain instead.

"If she never wants to see me again after this, I'll walk away," I rasp. The words feel like sandpaper, all dry and gritty and wrong. Saying them physically hurts. But I'll cut out my heart if it stops hers from bleeding. "So long as she's happy and doing what she loves, I'll find a way to deal with it."

Bentley grunts, though I'm not sure if that means he believes me or not. I'm not sure Cami knows either because she puts her hand on his arm.

"Bentley," she says, her voice soft. "Remember when it was you? You were willing to give up your song and risk your record deal for me. We have to help him. Riley and Cash helped you."

"I'd still give it all up for you, little dove," he growls, staring at her with heat in his eyes. And then he curses and looks at me again. "Fine. We'll help. But if she wants you gone, you're gone."

"Agreed," I grit out.

Cami's eyes light up, and for the first time since Gwen ran out of our hotel room, a tiny little sliver of hope appears. I cling to it with both hands, praying to God it's enough to fix what I broke.