Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

Holding Mia

Terri Anne Browning




  Copyright © Terri Anne Browning/Anna Henson 2019

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of Terri Anne Browning, except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976.

  Holding Mia

  Rockers’ Legacy Book 1

  Written by Terri Anne Browning

  All Rights Reserved ©Terri Anne Browning 2019

  Cover Design & Cover Picture by Sara Eirew Photography

  Edited by Lisa Hollett of Silently Correcting Your Grammar

  Formatting by M.L. Pahl of IndieVention Designs

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Holding Mia is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book can be reproduced in any form by electronic or mechanical means, including storage or retrieval systems, without the express permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Table of Content

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Coming Soon

  Off Limits

  Prologue

  Mia

  May

  My palms were sweating, my heart racing. You would think I was about to go onstage and dance for 100,000 people.

  But no, this was much, much more nerve-racking.

  I wiped my hands on my jeans. The material felt oddly foreign to me. They weren’t my usual choice of clothing. From the time I was five and started my first dance class, tights and leotards became my comfort zone. Lycra was like a religious uniform for me, and any other type of clothing was pretty unacceptable. Anything taking up my time that didn’t involve music and dancing was too much of an annoyance to be bothered with.

  Now, dancing was only a pipe dream.

  Or at least, how I’d always seen my future and dancing intertwining.

  But like my mother always did, I had a backup plan.

  When I was sixteen, I tore my ACL from overuse. I didn’t even blink because I knew I would be okay. It was nothing a little surgery and some physical therapy couldn’t fix. I promised myself I would do better, not overdo the practices so much, take more days off. A little tear of the anterior cruciate ligament in my knee wasn’t going to keep me down for long.

  If only it had been the one time…

  No, I couldn’t think about that. Not now. It was what it was. It changed everything, but I was learning to live with it. I always had a backup plan, one I knew I would be happy with.

  I just needed a little breathing room so I could follow my new dream.

  That was something I wouldn’t get if I went to a local college. Hell, it wasn’t something I would get if I went to any college if my parents had their way. But it was time they started realizing I needed my space, a little time just to be normal for once in my life.

  Mia Armstrong, daughter of Nik and Emmie Armstrong, the rock world’s version of a princess and one-time dance prodigy, was anything but normal. I couldn’t leave the house without a bodyguard shadowing me, crowding me in, suffocating me.

  I never complained—much—about the lack of privacy, my nonexistent social life, or even the fact that I had only one best friend who wasn’t considered immediate family.

  A friend I needed to create just as much space from as I did everyone else in my life now that I’d screwed that up.

  My heart squeezed painfully thinking of Jordan. I messed up badly with him, and now our once-close friendship was strained. All because I’d been feeling sorry for myself after the doctors all confirmed I wouldn’t ever be able to dance professionally again.

  The hair brushing across the back of my neck irritated me, and I automatically pulled it into a tight, twisted knot on top of my head as I walked into the dining room where everyone had gathered tonight at my request. I could do this. I had a plan all set out, one I believed in, one I could execute.

  There was only one hitch.

  My family needed to be on board with it, or all my plans would be ruined. My desperation for a taste of normal, for just a little freedom, for finally finding out who this new Mia was that didn’t include a lifetime of dancing professionally.

  Momma and Daddy were sitting at their normal spots at the dining table. Daddy at the head of the table and Momma right beside him on his left. Uncle Jesse sat beside her, with Uncle Shane and Uncle Drake across from them. Jagger, my younger brother, sat closest to where I came to stand in front of them all.

  Gail, our housekeeper, had already set out the snacks I’d requested, and they all had glasses of iced tea in front of them.

  I set down my laptop, ready to start my presentation.

  That was how desperate I was, how much I ached for them to give the thumbs-up. I wanted this just as much as I’d wanted dancing; something I once ate, slept, and breathed with my entire being.

  I stood in front of them and pushed aside my nervousness, pretending this was just another audition. Only, back then, I’d always had the confidence I would end up with whatever principal part I wanted.

  This…

  Yeah, I wasn’t sure of the outcome of this, but I knew that whatever happened, it would be life-changing. Because if they didn’t approve of my plan, I didn’t have a Plan C.

  I guess I wasn’t like my mother as much as I’d always thought. Emmie Armstrong had a hundred different contingency plans. I only had the two, and now one was obsolete.

  Clearing my throat, I brought everyone’s attention to me. “Thank you for coming tonight,” I said by way of greeting. “I know you are all very busy, and it means a lot that you would take time out of your day for me.”

  “Anything for you, princess,” Uncle Drake assured me, his blue-gray eyes softening on me. “Day or night, no matter what, we got you.”

  “Mia, baby, what is this all about?” Momma asked, her face concerned. “You made it sound like this was life or death. Is everything okay? Did you hear from the doctor again? Do they want to do more surgery?”

  A lump filled my throat, and I quickly swallowed it down. “No, Momma. Nothing like that. We’ve already exhausted all those avenues. Everyone always says the same thing. That second tear…” A shuddery breath left me, but I stiffened my spine and put on a bright smile for them. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you all about college.”

  Every male at the table suddenly sat up a little straighter, including my baby brother. Their smiles dimmed, and I read the “no” already in their eyes. Unable to accept that, I turned on the projector of my laptop, and my presentation appeared on the wall behind me.

  “Please don’t say anything until after you hear everything I have to say. I’ll be happy to answer any and all questions after I’m finished.”

  They started to protest, their answers ready to tear out of them without even hearing m
y proposal.

  Momma leaned forward, her hands raised, stopping any words from leaving the five males’ throats. “She’s obviously put a lot of time and thought into this. Let’s hear her out.”

  I gave her a thankful smile, and the one she returned to me bathed me in love. Taking courage from her encouragement, I flipped to the first page of my presentation. I laid out the background on the university I wanted to go to. It was a small school, but not so small everyone would know everyone else. I could blend in with the crowd without being overwhelmed.

  “I also have an evening job lined up, contingent on my enrollment,” I explained, and every set of eyes at the table grew huge, with the exception of my mother’s. A hint of a smile teased at her lips that she tried to keep hidden as Daddy leaned forward in his chair.

  “What kind of job, Mia?”

  I smiled, the one I’d learned and perfected from him. It was his stage smile, the one he used to charm tens of thousands of rock fans when he performed with the Demons. “I will be teaching the toddler-, preschool-, and kindergarten-aged kids at a small dance school just a few blocks off campus. I’ll also teach a weekly adult class.”

  “Won’t that sting, sis?” Jagger asked with a frown. “Your dream is over, and you want to torture yourself by teaching others to do the one thing you no longer can?”

  My breath hitched, but I didn’t lose my smile. “Actually, teaching is my new dream. And I can still dance, dummy. I just can’t perform like I used to.”

  “I don’t know. It seems like that would just be a slap in the face for you on a daily basis.”

  I gritted my teeth, but instead of arguing with my sibling, I focused on the others. “Maybe I should lay out my future goals. You see, I don’t just want to teach. Actually, I’d like to open my own school. All these years, I’ve been able to travel each summer and learn different techniques and styles, and I’ve loved that time so much. This has always been my backup plan. I love dancing. It’s my life. Hell, it’s part of my soul, embedded in my freaking DNA. I knew a dancing career on its own wouldn’t last long. Eventually, I would have gotten tired of performing and wanted to do something else.”

  “Honey, you don’t have to go off to college to accomplish that,” Daddy argued. “Mom and I can give you the money to start it up right now. And if college is something you want, then UCLA or any other college is right here. I don’t see—”

  “I don’t want your money,” I interrupted, my voice coming out harsh, surprising us both. Daddy blinked at me, hurt shining out of his pale-blue eyes. Swallowing hard, I went on. “Daddy, I don’t want your money. I don’t want a handout or to be dependent on you and Momma for anything regarding my studio. College is important to me because I want to get a business degree so I can run the school on my own.”

  “But why does it have to be so far away?” he demanded, frustration wrinkling his brows.

  “Because I want a little freedom.”

  “You have freedom,” he said, frustration turning to confusion.

  A dry laugh escaped me before I could call it back. “No, Daddy. I absolutely have no freedom. There are days when I feel so suffocated from the lack of freedom that I literally cannot breathe. I have Rodger or Marcus, or both, breathing down my neck if I so much as step out of this house.”

  “You know why—”

  I held up my hand, cutting him off once again. “Yes, I know why. I was there, remember?” His face paled, and I had to look away before I started crying. Remembering what happened all those years ago still had the power to make me shiver, and I knew the nightmares were just as stark for my parents. The kidnapping, finding me almost overdosed on the drug the psycho had given me to keep me quiet while I was transported, and finally, the barn I had been trapped in with two of my aunts was set on fire. My darkest memories always came back whenever I smelled smoke. “But that was thirteen years ago, Daddy. That person is gone. Why do I have to be treated like a prisoner every time I leave this house? Why am I being punished for something some psycho did?”

  “Mia.” Momma’s voice was soft, drawing my eyes to her. “Sweetheart, we don’t mean to make you feel like that. It just gives us peace of mind when we aren’t around to know that you are safe. We nearly lost you—not once, but twice. You and your brother are our world. We just want to protect you.”

  My throat burned from the tears aching to be set free, but I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t throw a tantrum. I was an adult now, and if I lost my cool and started screaming and demanding things they needed to give me freely, then all my plans would be lost. Sucking in a slow, deep breath, I clasped my hands together to keep them from shaking. “I know your reasons, and I understand them. But I can’t live my life like this forever, Momma. I need space and privacy. Neither of which I’ve ever been given.”

  “I’m sorry, honey.”

  “Stop being sorry,” I told her. “I said I understand.”

  “Are you saying you want to go to college without Rodger and Marcus?” Uncle Jesse spoke up for the first time, already shaking his head. “I didn’t let Lucy go off to college without Marcus. There is no way in hell we are agreeing to let you. No way.”

  I took another deep breath, praying for patience. But like my hair, I had a red-hot temper that caught fire easily. “All my life, I’ve always known who I am. The rocker’s princess, the dance prodigy. Those were my identities. I wasn’t just Mia Armstrong. Now… Now, I’m no longer the prodigy, and I feel like I’ve lost who I am. I want the chance to figure that out. I want the chance to just be normal. How am I supposed to find the new me if I’m being followed around by two guys who look like secret service?”

  “No, Mia,” Daddy said, already shaking his head. “I might have been able to get on board with the school you chose, even the job, but there is no way in hell I’m going to let you go anywhere without bodyguards.”

  “You’re not even giving this any extra thought. Just take a little while to think about it, Daddy,” I urged, begging him with my eyes to do this for me.

  “I could think about it for a year and still come to the same decision. The answer is no, Mia.”

  I lost the battle with my tears, and they started to fall. Angry at myself for being unable to control them—at being unable to control anything in my own life—I wiped them away. “You know, I’ve never hated being your daughter until right now,” I whispered.

  Before he or the others could say another word, I ran from the room.

  I got as far as the living room before my knee protested, and I had to limp my way up the stairs to my bedroom. I slammed the door, acting like the little girl they continued to treat me as, and fell face first onto the bed before letting the sobs overtake me.

  --

  “Mia.”

  Groggily, I lifted my head to find Momma sitting on the edge of my bed. Blinking because my eyes felt crusty and dry, I turned onto my back, realizing I’d cried myself to sleep. A quick glance at the digital clock on my side table told me I’d been sleeping for hours. The sky outside my window was pitch black, not even the moon shining through to ease the inky darkness of the night.

  The lamp beside my clock was on, telling me Momma had turned it on when she’d come in. She sat there with her hand on my arm, her face pale and tense, but her eyes were full of something that was mysterious to me—but, for some reason, gave me hope.

  “We should talk,” she said matter-of-factly, and I jerked into a sitting position.

  “I’m sorry for what I said,” I told her, guilt creeping in for the parting shot I’d tossed at Daddy as I’d left the dining room earlier.

  “If that is how you feel, then it’s probably what he and I both needed to hear,” she said quietly, but there was no mistaking the trace of sadness in her voice. It only made my guilt intensify.

  “I’m still sorry.”

  “Let’s not linger on that. I want to know how much all of this means to you. The school, the job…the lack of a bodyguard.�
�� She clasped her hands in her lap, and I was suddenly presented with the businesswoman who seemed to rule the entire music world so effortlessly.

  “It’s everything, Momma,” I told her earnestly. “I don’t just want this—I need it. I feel lost, like a part of me is missing, and I can’t freaking find it. Have you ever felt that way?”

  She looked away from me, her eyes skimming the room as she seemed to think over my question. For a few seconds, her eyes would linger on the posters on the wall, my posters. One of me dancing as the Sugar Plum Fairy for the New York Ballet two summers before. One of me dancing front and center with the London Ballet Company when I was fifteen. She loved those two posters and had framed miniature copies on her desk at work.

  “Yes,” she said after what felt like an eternity had passed, but it couldn’t have been more than a minute. “More than once, I’ve felt just like that. But that was before you came along. Before your dad and I figured out we couldn’t live without each other.”

  “How upset is Daddy right now?” I asked, that lump filling my throat again.

  “Don’t worry about your father right now, honey. He’s a big boy. A few angry words tossed at him when you were hurting aren’t going to kill him.” Lifting one hand, she pushed back a few strands of hair that had fallen from the knot on top of my head before cupping my face. “Listen to me, Mia. I love you more than life itself. If something ever happened to you, it would destroy me. When I nearly lost you, not once but twice, I came close to losing my mind. I did some things I’m not proud of to ensure your safety. But maybe… Maybe I took things a little too far.”

  “Momma, it’s okay. I get where you were coming from. I would probably do the same if I were in your shoes. I just… It’s time to cut the strings.”

  Her smile was weak, but she nodded. “Maybe it is.”

  “Does that mean—”

  She dropped her hand from my face and inhaled deeply. “If this means that much to you, then I will make it happen.” My heart lifted. “But there will have to be a few rules.”

  The happiness in my chest evaporated, and my face fell. “What kinds of rules?”