Wheels of Fire

I give him a cool look. “What am I trying to do to you? Don’t blame me for your impulse control issues.”

“Why is he home?” He runs his hands through his hair. “He knows doesn’t he? You told him?”

“I can’t lie to him, Andrew. Look on the bright side. At least I talked him out of killing you for trying to kiss me.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, why would you tell him that?” He rakes his hands through his hair again and tugs on the ends. “He’s going to hate me now.”

“Did you honestly think if you broke us up, you two would remain buddies?”

“I didn’t want to break you up. I wanted to—”

“Fuck me. I remember.”

He leans down, so we’re eye to eye. “Why are you so insulted?” His desperate question pulls no sympathy from me. “You know how many girls beg to jump on my cock?”

“Andrew, I don’t know what kind of damage is in your past, but you really need to seek therapy.”

He scratches his head. “I see someone once a week.”

“Well, start going more often or find a new therapist.”

“I told her all about you.” He straightens up. “Fuck, I had to have an emergency session with her after you left yesterday.”

Fantastic.

“She thinks I’m a sex addict.” A dark chuckle spills out of him. “She said it like it’s a bad thing.”

“You’re out of your mind.”

“Maybe. I also told you I’m in love with you,” he whispers. “Or did you forget that?”

If only I could fry him with the power of my eyes. “You’re not in love with me.”

“Trying to kiss my girl again, Andrew?” Chaser’s grim voice sends a shiver down my spine.

Andrew’s face pales. “Just talking,” he answers without turning around.

“Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of me. No need for secrets, buddy.”

“You going to shoot me now?” Andrew puts his arms in the air and turns around.

“That was my preference.” Chaser leans over and sets a glass of water on the coffee table. “Mallory talked me out of it for some reason.” He straightens up and points an imaginary finger gun Andrew’s way. “I’m always willing to reconsider.”

“Bro, not funny.” Andrew’s fingers brush against his bullet wound.

Chaser’s controlled his anger for an admirable amount of time, I have to admit. But he finally snaps.

Faster than his injured foot should allow, he rushes Andrew. His fist flies through the air. The punch slams into Andrew’s cheek. He’s knocked sideways, landing on the hard tile with a smack.

I gasp but don’t say a word or try to stop Chaser.

“Don’t fuckin’ bro me ever again, motherfucker,” Chaser snarls. He cocks his fist back and punches Andrew in the face again. “You went after my girl behind my back.” Punch. “Lied to my face.” Punch. Punch.

“I can’t help it, Chaser.” Andrew holds up his hands, blocking the blows and scoots backwards. “I’ve got a problem.”

Chaser burrows one hand in Andrew’s hair and yanks his head back. “How many times did I tell you she was off-limits?”

“A lot.”

Without turning around, Chaser motions toward the door. “Go, Mallory.”

“What? No way.”

“I’m not going to kill him.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

Andrew lifts one hand in the air. “I’m not feeling reassured either.”

“Shut up.” Chaser releases Andrew and limps over to me. As furious as he is, he’s gentle as he takes my elbow and guides me to the front door. “Go wait in the car so Andrew and I can talk for a minute. Please?”

Chapter Forty-Two

Chaser

“Are we good now?” Andrew asks after Mallory leaves.

He picks himself up off the floor and warily circles me.

Not trusting his intentions, I track his every movement. “You’re joking, right? You hit on my fiancée and you think we’re cool?”

He touches his jaw. “You punched me. Several times.”

“That doesn’t come close to making us even.”

“You know I’ve got a problem.” He leans his hip against the back of his couch and gives me that pathetic sheepish shrug that’s probably gotten him out of trouble his entire life. “She couldn’t reject me fast enough, so—”

“If you’re waiting for me to say thanks, you can fuck off.”

Shame seems to transform him. His shoulders slump forward and he hangs his head. “I’m really sorry.”

“You don’t understand the meaning of sorry.”

He rubs his fingers over his chest. “No, for the first time, I think I really do. It aches.” He squints as he seems to search for the right words. “It feels heavy in here. I don’t like it.”

“That’s guilt.”

“This is different. Usually I have some momentary disappointment when I don’t get my way. Or, I’ll be mad I got caught. But this…this is so much worse.” He rubs his chest again. “I can’t get rid of the hurt.”

“Save your breakthroughs for therapy.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

Christ, he’s pathetic. “Do you even understand the damage all your shitty behavior causes?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t think—”

“Yeah, you never think. That’s the problem. You let your inner child run loose and create havoc for everyone else to deal with.”

“That’s fair.”

“Fuck you and fair.”

“This is another rock-bottom for me, Chaser. The shooting got me off drugs. And this… You’re one of my only true friends and I don’t want to lose you.”

Some fucking friend. “I don’t think you understand friendship. I’ve put up with a lot of shit, Andrew. A lot.”

“I know.”

“You have some good qualities. I appreciate all the help you’ve given the band, but messing with Mallory and me, you crossed a line—”

“I’m sorry.”

“I believe you.”

“What can I do to make it right?”

“Nothing right now.”

“Will we get through it?”

I stare long and hard at his desperate hound dog face. “Give it time.”

The spark of hope lighting up his childish eyes kicks me in the gut. I’m never getting this lunatic out of my life, am I?

“Tell me what to do, Chaser. And I’ll do it.” He watches me, waiting expectantly for an answer.

I blow out a long breath. “You’re never alone with Mallory again.”

He holds his hands up in the air. “Done. Swear.” Slowly, he lowers his hands. “That’s probably for the best, anyway.”

I growl.

“No, no, I mean, she’s gotta be pretty pissed at me.”

“Her feelings aren’t your concern.”

He taps his chest. “Yeah, but that’s part of what feels so bad in here.” He jerks his shoulders up and down like he’s trying to will the bad feelings away. “Can I at least apologize? I was a real dick to her. I knew I was being an asshole but I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Send it in a letter,” I spit out. Fuck, I knew Mallory held back some of the story, probably figuring I’d kill Andrew if she told me every ugly detail.

“I accept that.” He holds out his arms.

I stare at him in disbelief. “Are you shitting me, right now? I’m not hugging you. I’m not done punching you yet.”

His eyes widen just in time to see my fist flying at his face again.

“Oh, fuck.”

Chapter Forty-Three

Chaser

“Quit being such a baby. You’ll live.”

Andrew jams a tissue up his nose to stop the bleeding. I don’t even feel remotely sorry for fucking up his face.

“Now…” I grab his elbow and steer him out into the living room, “…walk outside with me and wave, so Mallory knows I d

idn’t kill you.”

He glances down at my foot. “Seriously, what’d you do to your foot? Is that why you came home?”

“Don’t worry about why I came home.” I have no plans to toss Pamela into this theater of absurdity by admitting to Andrew that she called me. She’d probably be thrilled to know she caused so much turmoil. And he’d probably take it as a sign that she wants him back.

“Mark let you leave?” he asks.

“He gave us the weekend off.”

“Damn. You must be doing good work. He never cuts us any slack.”

I hate the part of me that wants to discuss the recording sessions and ask for Andrew’s opinion on a few of the things we’re trying out for this album. Out of all the musicians in Hollywood, why the fuck did I have to pick this chaos-addicted man-child to be my mentor?

“Did he let you go because you hurt your foot?”

I stop walking and give him a quick shove. “Jesus Christ, you nosy prick. Mallory broke your giant gaudy vase and I cut up my foot on the glass. Ya happy now?”

“Fuck,” he breathes out. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah. Exactly.”

“She broke it?”

“You’re kinda focused on the wrong thing for someone who’s sorry.”

“No, no, it’s not that. I really was trying to apologize to her. I didn’t mean to piss her off even more.”

“It was an accident.” I give him a sideways glance. “She wasn’t going to change her mind and jump into bed with you, though. Roses or not.”