The Rocker That Holds Me by Terri Anne Browning Page A

right at that moment.
    Slap his overly handsome face? Knee him in the balls? Confess that I was obsessively in love with him? No way would I do that. It was bad enough that he knew how much I wanted him, the lengths that I had stooped to just to get in his pants.
    “Em?” I didn’t look over the rail when I heard him frantically calling my name from the ground level. Let him worry. Give it five minutes and he would be surrounded by girls again and I would just be an afterthought. Fuck that, and fuck him!
    A store caught my attention and I went in without thinking about it. Now this was my kind of store! Black lace, chains, silk and mesh. Oh, fuck yeah! There was a moody girl behind the counter who raised her head to frown at me when I walked in. She had some kind of rock magazine on the counter in front of her and after deciding that I wasn’t worth her time went back to the article in front of her.
    I got lost in buying clothes. Sexy black panties, matching bras. Thigh highs and garters.  A black dress that screamed that it was made for me. A skirt with chains holding the sides together. Tops that showed off my new assets. Shoes, shoes, and more shoes that went with all my darkly sexy outfits.
    I made sure to get everything a size bigger so that I would have a little room to grow since my pregnancy was going to start showing soon. And when I tried on shoes I found that a size bigger and wider were needed, but that didn’t surprise me . I had read about some women’s feet growing like that when they were pregnant. It was weird but true.
    The girl behind the counter gave me a long look as I tossed my stuff up on the counter top. “Did you find what you were looking for?” She asked.
    I took in her dyed black hair, the piercings in her nose and eyebrow, the tattoo of a demon on her right forearm and felt like I had found a kindred spirit. Had I known this girl growing up she would have most likely ended up my best friend. “All I have are jeans and stupid Demon’s Wings shirt. It was time for a change.”
    The girl’s eyes narrowed on me. “Demon’s Wings shirts are not stupid. I have six of them.”
    “Then you have exceptionally good taste in music. But I needed something that screams sexy, not rocker girl next door.” She started ringing up my clothes and I turned to the jewelry rack behind me. There were cheap little things, some of them only twenty dollars at the most. But they were beautiful. A sexy demon with her wings and horns in a tarnished silver hanging from a chain caught my attention and I tossed it on the counter with the rest of my things. The side with the belly button rings was next and I found several that I liked. Some nose studs and I was done.
    There were eight bags full by the time the girl was finished scanning my things into the computer. I handed over the credit card and watched the girls eyes bulge when she saw the name on the card. “Nikolas Armstrong?” She sputtered and gave me a closer look. “It is you. I thought you looked familiar. You’re Ember Jameson!”
    I smiled at the girl. “Yes.”
    “You have to be the coolest girl in the fucking world.” She swiped the card before giving it back. “I love that poster of Demon’s Wings with you clinging to Jesse Thornton. Damn I would kill to be you.”
    That made the smile disappear. “No. No you wouldn’t.” I assured her. My life might look perfect now, but no one would ever wish for the life that I had had growing up. No one deserved that kind of nightmare filled childhood.
    There was a commotion outside the store and I turned to find three security guards standing outside with a pale and frantic looking Nik. I glanced down at my phone and saw that I had been in the store for more than an hour. Crap! “Nik!” I called out as he started to pass the store.
    His head snapped around and he moved quicker than I ha d ever seen him as he entered the store and pulled me against his chest. His entire body was shaking, his