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Reviving Heaven (Room 103 Book 6)
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Reviving Heaven
A Room 103 Novel
By
D H Sidebottom
Dedicated to every single Room 103 fan.
Thank you for taking this journey with me,
and giving the boys the stardom they deserve.
“To freedom. To friends.
And to God damn motherfucking ROOM 103!”
Reviving Heaven
A Room 103 Novel
D H Sidebottom
Copyright © 2018 D H Sidebottom
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorised reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Twenty-nine
Thirty
Thirty-one
Thirty-two
Thirty-three
Thirty-four
Thirty-five
Thirty-six
Thirty-seven
Thirty-eight
Thirty-nine
Forty
Epilogue
Prologue
Harrison
Rachel shook her head, pressing a finger to her lips as she held up three fingers.
Acknowledging her with a single nod, I flattened my back harder against the wall. There was a slight scent in the air, almost like I could taste the blood about to be spilt. Shadows hung the length of the long, gloomy corridor, and old broken tables and chairs were piled against some double doors at the end of the hallway. A cracked window obscured the view into the overgrown gardens outside. It all resembled a scene from Silent Hill.
Knowing what I was thinking, Rachel shook her head faster and narrowed her eyes at me. I nodded in return. “We can take them,” I mouthed silently.
“Blare is in there!” she signed with her fingers.
“I’ll take him. You take the other two.”
“No!” Another shake of her head accompanied a firm glare. “Wait for back-up, Harry.”
“They’ll take too long!” I argued, my hands racing as my fingers spoke for me. “We need to do this now. We’ve been after this fucker for sixteen months.”
“No.”
Giving her a playful wink as I took out my gun, I pulled the mask down from where it sat on my head and yanked the clip free from the smoke canister. She had no choice but to go with me now.
“Shit!” she hissed when I kicked open the door.
***
“It wasn’t your fault, Harry.”
My eyes lowered to Dean’s, but I didn’t answer him.
Sighing when I placed the items in front of him, he looked back up at me from where he sat behind his desk. “You don’t need to do this.”
“Yeah,” I grunted. “Yeah, I do.”
“You’re a good agent, Harry. It was just a bad call. We all have them.”
“We all don’t kill our fucking partners!”
Dean held firm when my hands hit his desk, and I thrust my face close to his. He stared back at me, his expression steadfast as he allowed me my rage. “Just take some time off.” His voice was calm, empathy making him quiet. “Spend some time with Philly…”
“I won’t be back.”
Closing his eyes, he finally conceded and gave me a nod. He knew me, knew that I wouldn’t back down. “What will you do?”
My eyes lifted to the wall of photos behind him. Every agent Dean had worked with adorned the large space, me included. Rachel smiled back at me, her pretty face making my gut ache. Her arms were around Dean and me as we lifted champagne flutes to the photographer at a gala ball we’d attended. I wanted to pick up Dean’s ugly fucking glass paperweight that sat on his desk and smash the damn picture into pieces.
“Mate of mine offered me a job – security.”
Dean’s brows drew together, but he gave me a hesitant nod. “Sure.” I knew what he thought, fuck, I thought the very same thing. After working for SIS for eight years, security would be a vice on the balls. Even though I’d amassed enough savings to live comfortably for a while, I knew just sitting on my arse doing nothing would be worse than following around some God-awful celebrity that tried their best to get themselves into some shit stinking problem.
“Just…” He sighed, relenting. “Take care of yourself, Harry.”
Replying with a short nod, I swallowed back everything else I wanted to say and walked away. “Goodbye, Dean.”
I closed the door behind me.
And I never opened it again.
One
Lily
‘And straight in at number eight… We have the new rock group on the block, Quantum Rock, with their incredible debut single, Drag it out…’
I stood, staring at the guys when they went wild, jumping and screaming as they pulled each other into a hug. I couldn’t move, my whole body locked down in a stunned excitement.
“Fuck…” It was all I could manage, and it was quiet enough for only my ears to hear.
Number eight.
Holy shit!
“Lily?”
My eyes moved slowly from my bandmates to Boss. The grin on his face was comical if I could find the control to laugh.
Number eight.
I was suddenly being lifted in the air, my body spinning in circles when Dad scooped me up. “You rock, kid!”
“Jax!” Mum scolded. “Put her down!” Her smile was mixed with tears of joy. “You did it, baby.”
I nodded slowly, jerkily.
“Now you’ve done it,” Bulk cut into my surreal moment, “will you finally announce your connection to Room 103?”
I nodded again. Me and my band, Quantum Rock, had been adamant we made it into the music world as a result of our own talent, not off the back of my parents’ group, Room 103. They’d been huge just over twenty years ago. They still did a few charity gigs but hadn’t released a single for two decades.
Dad dipped his head, bringing his eyes in line with mine. “Now I tell you, Quantum is backing a reunion tour for 103.”
My mind raced for a moment as I tried to figure out what he meant. “What?”
A small tilt of his lips grabbed my attention, the smirk confusing me further. “Surprise. We waited until you made it. UK reunion tour for your mother’s charity. Quantum is coming with us.”
“Are you shittin’ me?” Cage butt in. Parker West, AKA Cage on account of his cage fighting ‘hobby’, was the drummer in my band. His tall, muscular body peered over both my dad and me as his wide eyes flicked between our faces. “Say that again, Jax!”
&nbs
p; Dad grinned. “With us?”
“Fuck, yes!” Cage answered without hesitation. Turning to Tap and Knight, he beamed. “Fuck, guys, we’re going on fucking tour!”
Tap, Drake Sharp, bass for Quantum, nicknamed Tap after how much ass he tapped, flicked his eyes to me warily. “You okay with this, Lil?” Although Tap was a wild one in the bedroom, he was the more serious of the guys in the band. He weighed things over and over until he knew they made sense and would work out.
My head shook from side to side and then up and down. “Uhh…”
Mum smiled, laughing lightly. “Bit of a shocker, huh?”
I nodded again. “Just… Yeah.”
Finally, I smiled. And then I grinned. “Oh, my God. We did it.”
“Top ten, baby!” Knight, AKA Sebastian Knight, lead guitarist for Quantum Rock, grinned back at me as he wrapped me up and pulled me against his chest, dropping a chaste kiss on my head. “Well done, Lily.” I was closest to Knight. He was like the big brother I never had. He was very protective of me, but along with my best friends Rebecca, Kit and Hayley, Knight was the only one I confided in – and trusted.
“Well done us,” I corrected.
I loved my bandmates. For over four years we’d done every shitty gig going. We’d busked, almost begged for attention, and then Knight had written Drag It Out. And it had flown on YouTube. The hits and shares had escalated at an alarming rate, and now, finally, we’d done it. The guys deserved this. And even though I was nervous about doing our first tour, I couldn’t help but shiver with excitement.
I squealed when Bulk popped the cork on a bottle of champagne and started to fill the glasses someone had arranged into a pyramid on a tray. People suddenly appeared with platters of food and our hit single, Drag It Out, unexpectedly blasted from the speakers.
I narrowed my eyes at Mum. “Did you know about this?”
She shrugged, a small smile lifting her beautiful face. “I may have been informed. Jerry rang me this morning.” Jerry was Mum’s friend who worked in the media.
“You should have told me.”
She scooped up a glass of champagne and handed it to me. “And spoil all this? You deserve this, baby. You worked for it.” She planted a gentle kiss on my forehead. “You deserve the world. And you know I’d give it to you if I could.”
I nodded, inhaling her sweet scent. She was growing nostalgic again, the sadness that seeped from her making my eyes prickle with tears.
“I’m okay, Mum.” I lifted my face to look at her. “I’ve always been okay.”
She shook her head, the tears that filled her eyes now spilling down her cheeks. “How you could you be? How could anyone after what...”
“Babe?” Dad appeared by her side, the scowl on his face at Mum’s guilty sorrow compelling her to wipe away the tears. “Not today, babe.”
Straightening her shoulders, she took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I urged, giving her a genuine smile to show her that I was okay. The guilt and blame she carried around with her were more consuming than the memories that haunted me, and it was her never-ending heartache that grieved me more than my past.
She grinned when Tap abruptly pulled on my hand and dragged me across the floor to a space someone had cleared for dancing. “Stop with the gloom, guys. It’s a party! Let’s get drunk!”
So, we did. We got drunk, and we celebrated.
And at the end of the night, I managed to sneak out and do several lines of bliss.
Two
Lily
SIX MONTHS LATER
The chill hit me as soon as I exited the plane and started down the steps. Winter had come early, and as if it sensed my exhaustion, it did what it could to penetrate through to my bones and send a tremble through me.
It had been a gruelling six months. Six months of gig after gig, interviews, promotions, and marketing. But six months I had absolutely loved.
Because of living in the many hotels around the country for so long, my body, and the need that continuously lived inside me, had become overwhelming and I couldn’t wait to get home.
Knight, always sensing my weariness, wrapped his arm around my waist and helped me down the stairs. “You okay?” His probing look was questioning but knowing.
“Sure, just tired.”
“And you’re just going to sleep, huh?”
“For about four years,” I joked, giving him a wink, and hoping it dampened his worry.
He nodded. “Yeah, it’s been great, but it’ll be good to get back to home comforts.”
A range of flashes made us both blink, and my feet stumbled down the last step. Tap groaned behind us. “I never thought I’d get sick of the paparazzi, but they’re incessant.”
“Just try and pretend they’re not there,” I tried, but Tap scoffed.
“How is that possible when cameras and lights are always blinding you?”
“Fame is such a hard life,” Cage sighed but grinned as he played up to the camera, his natural extrovert personality making him the media frontrunner for the band.
As we walked through the VIP arrivals, the storm calmed, but on exiting the building to the waiting convoy of cars, a line of reporters suddenly started reeling off question after question. Cameras and microphones were thrust at us as the security did their best to hold them all back.
“Keep your head down and don’t comment, Miss Cooper,” the guard assigned to escort me said sternly in my ear as he guided me to my designated car.
But when one question filtered through the many raised voices, Knight stumbled to a stop in front of me, and I bumped into him.
“Lily, care to comment on the report that you were kidnapped at fourteen? Is Quantum Rock’s song, Hostage, based on your personal experience?”
Knight spun round as every molecule in my body froze in horror. Although I had been expecting the intrusion on my life, it still came as a stab in the gut when it was so publicly announced. The rest of the crowd silenced immediately, but the quiet soon turned to a range of gaps when Knight flung himself at the reporter who had so openly broadcast what I had been so desperate to hide.
“Shit!” I hissed as I broke away from my guard and pulled at Knight.
“Fuck!” I heard Frank, our manager, grumble when Knight’s fist connected with the reporter’s cheekbone and a range of flashes lit the early afternoon darkness that had arrived quickly.
Chaos descended as the boys jumped in to help Knight. Cage’s roar of delight at a chance to free his pent-up frustration made my teeth snap together in distress. It had been too long since he had fought, and he was feeling the withdrawal of freedom as much as I was.
A sharp gasp left me when my body was unexpectedly lifted over someone’s shoulder, and I was moving quickly across the carpark.
Cage’s designated security guard pushed me into the back of a waiting car, and shutting the door, he banged on the roof to alert the driver to move. The wheels squealed as I turned in my seat to watch the pandemonium that was playing out.
I groaned, flopping back against the seat when we left the carpark and pulled into the traffic.
“Are you alright, Miss Cooper?” my driver asked, his eyes worrying on me through the mirror.
I nodded and grumbled when my phone lit up.
“What the fuck happened?”
“Hi, Mum.” My heart plummeted and I closed my eyes, bracing myself. “They asked ‘the question’. Knight went ape, and the rest you have already been informed of.”
“Shit,” she hissed, making me flinch. “This is what I was scared of.”
“It’s fine. We knew it would happen.”
“Yes, but not this early on. I was hoping you could at least settle in before all the bullshit started.”
“I’m sure Frank will sort a public statement, or he’ll get the experts on it anyway.”
“That’s not the point. I’m worried about you.”
“Mum, honestly, I'm all right.”
&n
bsp; Tears pricked my eyes as nausea churned the sandwich I’d had on the plane. I was glad she couldn’t see my despair, but I also wanted nothing more than to have my mother’s arms around me and feel her love comfort the distress that was forcing its way up my throat.
My driver glanced at me in the mirror, silently asking if I still wanted to return home or change direction to my parents’ place.
“Home,” I mouthed. The only place I could sort myself out was in my own home. I had missed it, especially Gerry, my cat.
Giving me a curt nod, he continued along the same road.
“Everything okay?” Mum asked, sensing the shift in my attention.
“Uh-huh,” I confirmed, although I frowned when the driver turned right onto a road that wasn’t en-route to my house.
“Just a quick detour, Miss Copper,” he explained when he saw the confusion on my face. “Just in case we’re being followed.”
I nodded. I was becoming paranoid – again. Nathan, my psychotherapist, told me it was natural, but it always angered me when it raised its ugly head. I hated the anxiety that continuously lived in me, and when it started to interfere with my emotions, I knew it was time to make an appointment with Nathan.
“We’re just taking a detour, panicked me for a moment,” I notified Mum when she reminded me she was still on the phone.
“Don’t worry, sweetie; all the security men have been specially vetted and selected. They’re all legit. I promise,” she stated, appeasing my worry. “Now, stick your earphones in your cute little ears and drown in some music.”
I smiled. Why my mother always called my ears cute was beyond me. They were just ears for Christ’s sake.
“Love you.” I ended the call with the usual words, and taking Mum’s advice, I switched on some Daughtry, slipped my earphones into my ‘cute’ ears, and for the first time in many long months, I relaxed.
***
“Miss Cooper, we’re home.”