He nods at me.
“I’ll be back,” I promise. No way will I let Alvin freak out all alone while he waits to see if he gets called to stand in for one of his idols.
I stop in our dressing room and find Jacob with a mug of tea and jar of honey. “You all right?”
He turns and shrugs, then points to his throat. I take in his appearance. Sweaty and shakier than normal after a show. I suspect his condition has more to do with heroin withdrawal than vocal issues.
“Need anything?”
He points to his arm and mimes shooting up.
“Not happening,” I growl.
I get a shrug and a nod in response, which isn’t all that reassuring. He must sense my mistrust because he holds his hand out. “I’m okay,” he rasps. “I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”
“Good, because Alvin might need to fill in for Andrew tonight. He needs our support.”
“Give me a few.” He gestures to the tea.
The bathroom door swings open and Garrett strolls out, a half-dressed blonde following behind him. He smirks at me and I lift my chin.
“Hey, Chaser,” the girl coos.
“Hey.” I turn back to Jacob. “Fill him in?”
Jacob starts some complicated sign language type gestures that seem to equate to “our drummer is filling in for their drummer.” Satisfied the two of them won’t leave the arena, I return to Alvin.
“You all right?” I ask.
He leans in close. “I’m freaked the fuck out.”
“Knowing Andrew, he’ll want to finish the whole show. But it’ll make him feel better if he knows someone can take over.”
“It’s the least we can do after…everything.”
“None of that shit’s on you and me, brother.”
He cocks his head. “Isn’t it?”
“How do you figure?”
Before answering, he does a quick scan of the surrounding area. While it’s crowded, no one’s paying attention to us. “We have to keep a closer watch over Jacob. If he looks like he’s about to fall, we need to catch him.”
“How’s that work long-term?” I’m not trying to be a dick. I genuinely want to understand Alvin’s thought process. “We can’t help someone who doesn’t want our help.”
“I think we should get him to see a doctor about his throat. Maybe hire a vocal coach to go on the road with us.”
Why hadn’t that occurred to me? Kyle doesn’t have one but we’ve played with other bands who kept a vocal coach around. While we’re not rolling in money, yet, we’re certainly making enough to cover that expense if it means we preserve Jacob’s voice.
“Let’s talk to Thom about it before we approach Jacob,” I suggest.
He holds out his fist and we tap knuckles. “Deal,” he agrees.
At least it finally feels like we have a plan.
Mallory
“How was the show?” I ask Chaser as soon as he calls.
“Fucking horrible at first.”
He gives me a rundown of the rocky beginning and how Andrew saved the night.
“Is he going to have to do that every night?”
“Probably. At least until word spreads and people stop believing the stupid gossip.”
“I didn’t want to say anything but, yeah, half the tabloids here are running a story about our torrid love triangle.”
“Fuck,” he mutters. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s, really.”
“Well, that’s not exactly true.”
“How is Jacob?”
“Off the junk for now. Seems like this incident scared him straight but I don’t know…” He trails off and pain wraps around my chest. I wish I could be there for him.
So, I tell him exactly that.
“Hearing your voice helps. I miss you,” he rasps.
“I miss you too.”
He groans and I can almost picture him stretching out on his bed. “I can’t stop thinking about waking up with your mouth around my cock.”
My breath hitches. “Really?”
“Fuck yeah.”
“I can’t wait to do that again,” I whisper.
“You’ll get your chance soon enough.”
Chapter Six
Mallory
It’s been a busy couple of weeks—busting some moves for the strange Jazzercise video, a handful of random auditions, and filming the increasingly weird Shallow End storylines. I am so ready for some alone time with Chaser.
“Let’s go!” Pamela yells.
“I’m ready!” I rush out of the dressing room, almost knocking her over.
“We’re going to miss our flight.”
Somehow, my flight to New York to meet up with Chaser ended up being a girls’ trip with Pamela. I guess she’d been planning to visit Andrew for the final show all along. No one told me we’d have to fly out together.
All my luggage is already in her car so we can go straight to the airport when we’re done filming for the day.
“I’m so excited!” Pamela squeals as we hit the freeway. “I haven’t been to New York since I was a little girl.”
“You must be excited to see Andrew too.”
She lifts one shoulder. “Sure. It’s always weird after he’s been on tour for a while, though. You know?”
I can only imagine. I wonder if she packed a can of Lysol to spray over his nether regions.
A thousand times, I wanted to tell Pamela what I’d witnessed on my last visit—Andrew nailing groupies backstage by the bucketload. But his warning that Pamela already knew but didn’t want to be confronted with the information kept my mouth shut. Things are tense enough when we work together. Half the time I get the feeling she doesn’t even like me. Telling her about Andrew’s unfaithfulness won’t improve our relationship. At least that’s the excuse I keep giving myself for being a coward.
I’m almost tempted to give her the advice I was once given—make him wear a rubber—but I doubt that will be appreciated either.
Instead, we talk about the episode we just finished filming.
“I’m so happy we’re on break. Landon keeps asking to suck my tits between takes.” She pulls a gagging face. “I want to knee him in the balls every time I see him.”
“Eww. He’s old enough to be your grandfather.” Thank God I rarely have any scenes with him.
“I know.”
“Have you complained to anyone about it?”
“No way. You know who will get kicked off the show if I make waves.”
“That’s ridiculous.” But even as I voice the complaint, I know she’s right.
“That’s Hollywood. Hell, that’s everywhere.” She parks the car and turns to me. “You’re not a nervous flyer, are you?”
“Not yet.”
“Good.”
We unload our bags together. She huffs at my luggage. “How long are you staying in New York?”
“At least a week. We’re going to visit his family.” My mouth turns up. I’m actually looking forward to seeing Stump. I think I miss him more than my own father.
“You’re from New York too, right?”
I nod, uncomfortable talking about my origins. “We’ll probably visit my dad too while we’re here.” As much as I don’t relish another prison visit, I can’t be so close and not see my father.
Thankfully, she doesn’t pry for more information.
Chapter Seven
Chaser
My need to see Mallory is a fever creeping over my skin. I’m irritable all day waiting for her, bummed she won’t get in until late tonight.
I’m even more annoyed that I agreed to wait to go to the airport so Andrew and I
could pick up the girls together.
When Andrew’s finished with his set, he lopes off the stage, high-fiving everyone he passes. He takes his sweet ass time. When he finally makes it over to me, I’m ready to snap.
“We need to get going,” I remind him, taking a step back as his sweaty stench clogs my nostrils. “You plannin’ to take a shower?”
“Nope. Pheromones. Pamela digs it.”
“I don’t think that’s the same…you know what, never mind. Let’s go.”
He stops at his dressing room door. “Give me two minutes.” He holds up two fingers and shoves them in my face in case I can’t count that high. “Stashed a little hottie in here for a post-performance BJ.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
He disappears inside the room and I stare at the door. Am I really waiting for this asshole to get a blowjob from some random chick, while his girlfriend is waiting for him at the airport? And worse, delaying getting my hands on my own girl?
“Motherfucker.” I slam my fist against the door and stalk away.
Jacob walks over and slaps my shoulder. “When Pamela breaks up with him, make sure you send her my way.”
Next to him, Garrett chuckles. “What? You think she’s gonna sniff his dick or somethin’?”
I spear my fingers through my hair. What was I thinking, agreeing to go with Andrew?
Fifteen minutes later—not the two he promised—he bounds out of his dressing room, sweatier and more disgusting looking than before—if that’s possible. “The fuck is wrong with you?” I snap.
He gives me that wide-eyed innocent puppy face that makes me want to punch him every single time. “What?”
“We’re going to be late.”
“Nah. We’ve got plenty of time.” He turns and strides down the hallway to the closest door, his bodyguard, Benny following. “Let’s go.” Andrew waves his hand over his shoulder.
I have to jog to catch up with him. Sure, now he’s eager to go. In the parking lot, he stops at a shiny, black stretch limo.