Page 2 of A Way Out (Rock Star #2)

Chapter Two

“ O hmigod !” Oz Garcia’s eldest niece, Elana, gave a squeal and rushed through the open patio doors to admire the pool. The youngest, Isabel, followed, while his eleven-year-old nephew hovered by Oz’s side. No doubt trying to be cool.

“Go on,” Oz said, nodding at the beautiful view. “It’s totally cool to be impressed by what’s out there.”

Daniel darted his gaze up, and Oz threw his arm around the kid’s bony shoulders. Daniel shrugged him off. Four years had gone by since his mother died and he still wasn’t ready for personal contact, even from the uncle who had taken over custody of him and his sisters.

Oz read every book the local library had about how to deal with kids after severe trauma—he couldn’t afford to send the kids to therapy and figured this was the next best thing—and the general consensus was, give it time .

That was apparently the magical remedy when one’s abusive father shot and killed one’s mother—minutes before the kids walked into the house after school.

Yeah, they’d been the ones to find their mother. Yeah, Oz would never, ever forgive their father for doing that to Raquel or her children.

The drummer for Panic Station, the hottest rock band of the minute, who also happened to be the owner of this house, thrust out his hand and said, “Hello there, I’m Sam Stokes.”

Daniel was more of a hip-hop kid, but living with Oz for the last four years had resulted in him listening to Oz practice his guitar every single day, and Oz played rock. Daniel had picked up a few things, including the fact that he was standing in the presence of a rock god.

Daniel’s eyes went wide, and he stared at Sam for long seconds before finally shoving his hand out and shaking Sam’s, stuttering, “It-it’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

Sam laughed. “It’s just Sam. No sir . What’s your name?”

“Daniel Garcia.” Changing the kids’ last name had finally happened a few months ago.

It was a battle Oz had refused to give up, despite the lawyer fees he’d racked up.

Everybody needed some sort of closure after a devastating loss, and Oz’s was taking away their birth father’s parental rights and giving his sister’s kids her family’s last name for the rest of their lives, instead of the name of the man who had killed their mother.

“Daniel,” Sam said, pointing at the woman standing next to him, “this is Holly McGregor. My fiancée and the singer for?—”

“Panic Station,” Daniel blurted, his eyes glassy. “Yeah, I know.”

Holly gave him a blinding smile while Sam chuckled. “We’re heading out to Missouri to get married, and we’d sure appreciate it if you and your sisters and your grandmother would watch our house for us while we’re gone.”

Oz and Sam had rehearsed this, two days prior, when Sam had come up with the idea.

Initially, Oz had turned him down. He didn’t take handouts, no matter how desperate he was, and this wasn’t even a desperate situation.

They had a roof over their head, regardless of how small it was and the fact that it had only one bathroom, which was becoming increasingly more challenging as the kids got older.

“Think of it as a vacation for the kids,” Sam had said. “And I’d really rather have someone here than leave it empty for two weeks.”

Neither one of them pointed out the obvious: Sam and Holly were rock stars, often out on tour, and the house sat empty for months at a time.

Normally, Oz would have said exactly that, but when Sam suggested it would be a vacation for the kids, Oz’s heart had given a little lurch.

Those kids hadn’t ever had a vacation, and damn it, this was the closest they’d get anytime soon.

Man, he could not wait for his own band, Demigoddess Revival, to take off so he could treat them to an actual vacation. Although first—after he paid off his staggering debt—he was going to buy his mother a new, larger home. Then the vacation.

How many times in his life had he wished the music industry today was like it had been in the ’80s, when the members of a breakout band could shoot to the status of millionaires in the blink of an eye? Today’s reality was, most rock bands were lucky to earn a middle-class income.

Demigoddess Revival was worthy of so much more than that. He knew it. He could feel it.

They just had to get there.

“Me?” Daniel asked, pointing at his chest.

Sam nodded. “And your sisters. Can you all do that for us?”

Daniel darted a glance at Oz.

“Abuelita will be here too,” Oz assured the boy.

“What about you?” Daniel asked.

“I’ll be here for a few days,” Oz said. “But then I have to head out to Missouri too. My band is playing at Sam and Holly’s reception.”

“Are you getting paid?” Poor Daniel worried about making ends meet almost as much as Oz did.

“Nope. It’s our wedding gift to the happy couple.” Oz nodded at Holly and Sam, who beamed like he was presenting them with the key to the city.

He was more than happy to do it, despite having to take the time off all three of his jobs and worrying over whether his POS, older than dirt Civic would even make the drive.

At least he didn’t have to worry about where he’d sleep while he was there.

Holly and Sam had rented out some huge lodge for the wedding, and the guests had all been invited to stay there.

Still, this trip would not be cheap, and Oz already worried on a daily basis about having enough money to feed and clothe his ready-made family.

“Will we get paid?” Daniel asked slyly.

Sam chuckled. “Sure.”

That wasn’t part of the deal—Sam was doing them a favor, not the other way around—but Oz couldn’t say anything now. Damn it.

Finally, Daniel nodded. “Okay, we’ll do it.”

Oz nudged his shoulder. “How about a thank-you?”

Daniel gave a sweeping glance at the massive, sunken living area with a wall of windows overlooking the patio, pool, the Hollywood sign, and the mountain behind it. “Thanks,” he said, and then he headed outside to tell his sisters the good news.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Oz thrust out his own hand. “Thanks, man. Seriously.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Sam assured him. “You’re doing us a favor. Oh, and we’re seriously considering looking at real estate in the Ozarks when we get back from our honeymoon, so we may extend our timeline. It’s cool if you stay here longer if we do.”

Oz forced a laugh. Now they were getting into “I don’t take handouts” territory. “Maybe I’ll let them stay here and I’ll head to my mom’s house. The idea of hanging out there without a single other person around is really tempting.”

“Fair point,” Sam said. “But this place has a weekly grocery delivery. And the fridge in the studio is stocked with beer.”

Not cheap beer, either. Oz had practiced in their home studio enough times to know they didn’t keep Miller Lite down there.

The screen on Sam’s phone lit up. “Our car’s here. Ready to go get married, babe?” He was grinning at Holly like a man head over heels in love. Lucky bastard.

Oz had never felt that way about another person outside his own family, and usually, he was okay with that. Being in love was complicated as hell, whether you found your Mr. or Mrs. Right or you ended up with the worst kind of wrong. The complications were simply different.

So yeah, he generally was content to stay away from any chance of falling in love.

Every now and then, however, when he spent time with couples like Sam and Holly or Lacey and Parker from his own band, he felt a little pang, like maybe he would be open to the idea of love after all.

The concept of having a partner by his side as he negotiated his way through life did have some appeal.

Sometimes.

Except he came with a whole lot of what a potential love interest would no doubt consider baggage—not to even get into the debt he’d managed to rack up since he took custody of his sister’s kids—and he wasn’t about to give them up for anything. Or anyone.

As soon as Holly and Sam left, the kids all rushed inside, clamoring for their swimsuits. Oz pointed to each of their duffle bags, lined up in a row in the entry. “Grab your bags and let’s go upstairs so I can show you each your rooms.”

“Wait a minute,” Elana said. “I don’t have to share with Isabel?”

Oz laughed. “Nope. There are six bedrooms in this place. You don’t even have to be near Isabel.”

“I may never leave,” Elana whispered as she followed him up the stairs.

Oz had been living in a shitty one-bedroom apartment when he found out he was gaining custody of his nieces and nephew. So he and the kids moved in with his mother, which had the accidental benefit of helping her through the grief of losing her daughter, so ultimately it was a win.

Still, her house had only three bedrooms, which meant she got one, Daniel got his own room, and the girls had to share. Oz claimed the couch as his bed. He’d thought Elana was cool with the arrangement, although he supposed a thirteen-year-old girl had a right to wish for her own room.

Soon, everybody had changed into swimsuits, and the kids were having a blast in the pool while Oz sat in a lounger, keeping an eye on them with an icy cold beer in hand.

Okay, maybe the decision to house-sit wasn’t so terrible.

The buzzer sounded from the front gate. Tugging his shirt over his head, he called out, “Everybody out of the pool while I go see who’s here.”

The kids grumbled but complied, and he hurried through the house to answer the summons. He pressed the button on the console next to the front door.

“Hello?”

“Who’s this?” came the reply.

“Uh, who’s this?”

“You don’t sound like Sam.”

“Probably because I’m not.”

“Is Holly home?”

“Not at the moment.”

“When is she due back?”

“Who’s asking?”

“Her sister.”

Holly had two sisters, one in Washington state and one in New York City. Given her wedding was next weekend in Missouri, it was odd that one of them was now at the door of her home in LA. Unless…