Unwritten (Woodlands 5)

“Why’s that?”

“Because Albie is the one who ran his mouth to Marrow.”

“Oh shit,” he curses. “Adam, you cannot beat him up. I’ve got three months left on this tour. We can’t lose the headliner.”

“Guess what? We’re not playing either.”

“Why? You can get a session guitarist to fill in for Rudd. You just said he was fine.”

“No, I said he was going to be fine.” I hang up. There’s no point in talking with Hollister any longer. “Albie’s at the venue. They finished about an hour ago, but the bus is still there.”

“Let’s go.” Davis has a car service app pulled up on his phone.

Landry snatches the phone away. “Both of you have to promise that you’re not going to beat him up, threaten him, or do anything other than make sure he stays in one place until the police arrive.”

“What exact crime do you think Albie is going to be arrested for?” I ask, trying not to let my frustration out.

“I don’t know. I’m not a cop.” She clasps her hands together. “But I do know that dumbass over here served fourteen days in jail because of assault. You guys go rushing over there to beat him up in front of thousands of people and you’re going to get more time than that. Plus, it’ll be Davis’s second charge. Let’s do something nonviolent, huh?”

Davis grabs the back of his neck and stalks off. She’s gotten to him. He wants to do something, but it’s hard to deny the truth of Landry’s words.

I stick my phone in my back pocket.

“All right. I don’t like not getting at least one punch in, but I’ll settle for ruining this dude’s life.”

“That’s the spirit,” she encourages, then frowns when she realizes what I just said. “How exactly are you going to ruin his life?”

“Make sure that he doesn’t play another note again. The music business is a small, small world, and this is one time I don’t mind using my connections to get some guy blackballed.”

“You should tell Keith first,” she advises.

“You okay with this?” I ask Davis. Landry’s his sister and I’m trying to be more open to others giving their opinions.

Jaw tight, he says, “It’s not my first choice, but if you can get him blackballed, I’m in.”

“It’s done.” I reach for my phone again and this time, I call my dad. “Hey, Dad. Adam here.”

* * *

We’re a tired group by the time Rudd gets discharged. We rent an Escalade to take him back to the bus. I wanted to fly him back to Central City, but the doctors thought it would be okay for him to ride in the bus, once they had a look at it.

“You going to be okay back here, buddy?” I ask.

“Keep the drugs coming and I’ll be great.” He tries to raise his thumbs, but in his drugged state, all his fingers wave in the air.

“But not too much,” Davis interjects.

“It’ll be the goldilocks of drug dosages,” I promise.

Rudd makes a big circular motion in Landry’s direction. “I know you’re taken but you’re still a girl. Come over here and hold my hand.”

Gingerly she crawls onto the big bed. Rudd settles his head on her lap immediately.

“Ahh,” he croons. “This is a hundred times better.”

She strokes his hair. I prop a shoulder against the doorframe and watch as the band all settles in around Rudd. Ian plops his ass on the end near Rudd’s feet. Davis takes up space against the wall opposite of me.

“How drugged up are you?” Davis asks.