“Anything to sell their shitty tabloids,” I answer.
He nods but still seems troubled.
I can’t worry about it now. I’d rather enjoy Chaser’s last show than worry about the things I can’t control back in L.A.
“Is this better?” I ask Stump.
“I remember them playing this at the clubhouse!” Stump shouts in my ear.
As cool as he pretends to be, it’s obvious he’s bursting with pride while he watches his son on stage.
“I’m so happy you were able to come see them. I know Chaser’s happy you’re here.”
He shrugs. “I worried we’d make him nervous, but he seems to be in his element.” A note of sadness creeps into his voice.
“We’re both looking forward to coming home to spend time with you and the club.”
He nods and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Good.”
He wanders out a few feet in front of me, closer to the stage and leans on one of the metal supports for a better vantage point.
“How you doing, babe?” Andrew settles his hands on my shoulders.
I tip my head back and smile at him. “Not too bad. Are you nervous about your set?”
He holds his hand straight out in front of him, parallel to the floor. “Steady as a motherfuckin’ rock.”
“What are you doing with your hand on my son’s woman?” Stump’s rumbling voice holds a world of threat.
Andrew jerks his hands away, holding both up in the air. “Chaser asked me to look out for Mallory tonight.”
“Looking doesn’t involve touching,” Stump warns. He sweeps his icy glare over me as well.
“I’m fine, Stump.”
He grunts in response.
Somehow, I don’t think it’s me he was worried about.
Chapter Fourteen
Chaser
Maybe I’m too old for it but, there’s a small part of me eager to impress my dad tonight. The crowd alone should be impressive. I almost can’t look out at the sea of sweaty, happy faces without a dizzying wave of euphoria washing over me.
Pity we’re at the end of the tour. The combination of a vocal coach and replacing heroin with sex has given Jacob a polished edge to his performance that I haven’t seen in a long time. His steady voice leads us through each song without strain.
When it’s time for my solo, Jacob flashes me a thumb’s up before walking off stage. Buzzing from the energy of the crowd, I call up the notes from the song I’ve been calling “Salvation” in my head since Mallory and I worked on it the last time we were home. It’s a slower, gentler melody and at first, I fear it might lose the crowd but when I sneak a glance, they seem transfixed. I continue, embellishing and expanding, eventually morphing the notes into another song, a riff I often play to warm up, and on and on.
Alvin’s thump, thump, thump, pulls me out of the solo. A system we agreed on in case I get too carried away. Something to pull me back without jarring me. I turn and thank him with a quick salute, and he lifts his chin.
“Holy fuck!” Jacob shouts into his mic. “Did someone get that on video? That has to be Chaser’s best solo yet. He must love you guys! Saved that one just for you, Union, New York!”
The crowd screams their appreciation. I duck my head and laugh.
Thinking ‘Candy Jar’ is our next song, I strum the first few notes.
Instead of waiting for his cue, Jacob runs off stage again and returns, dragging Mallory behind him.
Our eyes meet. She laughs and shrugs, letting me know she’s fine. I’m really over the whole ‘Candy Jar’ dance routine. But it’s the last night of the tour so I guess we should go out with a blast.
“Hey, hey!” Jacob waves his arms in the air.
My fingers slow.
“Welcome our ‘Candy Jar’ girl to the stage!” Jacob holds one of Mallory’s hands up in the air. “Every night she’s with us, she’s busy watching her man play. You’d think she’d get tired of Chaser. I mean, I’m tired of him by now. But nope.”
The crowd laughs.
I flip him off. “Tired of you too, bro,” I say into my mic.
“Nah, you love me. I’ve grown on all of ya!”
“Like a fungus,” Alvin agrees.
Laughing at their antics, Mallory takes a few steps back. Jacob pulls her forward again. “So you guys all know the story of how Chaser and Mallory met when we filmed the video for ‘Candy Jar’, right?”
A good portion of the audience screams back some version of yes. Up front, an obnoxious group of guys who’ve been knocking into people the whole show, slap each other. One of them cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “Slut!”
“Fuck you, dude.” Jacob points to the security guard. “Get him out of here.”
“Come say that to my face later, motherfucker,” I growl into the mic.
“That guy’s a dick. Anyway,” Jacob continues. “What you don’t know is that Mallory’s also our, Queen. Of. The. Road!”
He holds up his hands, waiting for us to start the song.
Okay, so I guess we’re playing ‘Queen of the Road’ now. Thanks for the head’s up, dick.
I motion for Darren to bring me my slide. Don’t know what the fuck he’s doing but he’s not going to have it in my hands anytime soon, so when Alvin taps out his first few beats, I start the intro without it.
Mallory waves one more time and quickly scurries off stage where Andrew meets her. I eye the bottle of champagne in his hands warily. Fucker’s probably planning to douse us with it since it’s the last night of the tour. Tradition and all that. I guess we’ve gotten off lucky compared to some of the pranks I’ve heard of bands playing on each other at the end of a tour.
The solo for ‘Queen of the Road’ brings me right back to our shitty little apartment in L.A. Good memories, though. Jacob takes a seat on Alvin’s riser, banging his head along until it’s time for him to join in and finish the song.
With the mic at his side, Jacob yells, “Candy Jar!” at us.
Closing my eyes, I keep playing, shaping the notes from one song into the other. Two completely different pieces in my mind but the shift sounds pretty fuckin’ good. I need to try that more often.
Above me, there’s a whoosh. Before I can open my eyes and tilt my head back to see what the fuck it is, thousands of little Dum-Dum lollipops rain down from the ceiling.
“Motherfucker!” I’m laughing too hard to sound threatening though.
Ducking my head to avoid getting poked in the eye by a wayward candy stick, I keep right on playing.
A barrage of Skittles pelts us next.
Jacob tips his head back and opens wide, filling his mouth with the colorful little candies. I step up to my mic and finish the last few lines of the song since Jacob’s mouth is occupied. Garrett reaches over to slap Jacob on the back when he coughs and chokes on his mouthful.
The entire stage is coated in lollipops and round sugary pebbles. Jacob slips, lands on his ass and raises his arms in the air.
“Good night, Union! Thanks for the treats, Vicious Vandals!”
Kicking candy out of my way, so I don’t faceplant leaving the stage, I finally make it backstage.
Andrew’s waiting with a lollipop hanging from his lips. “Sweet show, Chaser.”
“You’re a dick.” I laugh. “You could’ve poked our damn eyes out.”
He doubles over laughing and holds out his hand. I yank him closer, pulling him off his feet and he crashes into me. “Thanks, bro. Good fucking tour. Bullet wounds and arrests notwithstanding.”
“We’ll do it again, soon, bro,” he promises. “Real soon.”
I shudder at the thought. Could I survive another tour with Andrew? But tonight’s a night to celebrate, so I nod and agree.
“The guys wanted to dump champagne on you but candy seemed so much better!” He nods at Mallory. “I waited until she was off stage.”
“Is that why you changed the songs?” I ask Jacob.
He bounces over, grinning and
shaking his head. “I had no fucking idea.” He lifts his chin at Andrew. “What? No cock hammock for the last show?”
I shoot a glare at Jacob. The tour’s been just fine without having to look at Andrew’s dick trying to break out of its tiny leather prison every damn night.