About forty-five minutes later, Jacob returns with a readjusted attitude and a bottle of pills.
“Do we need to burn the bus to the ground?” God damn do I enjoy being an asshole to Jacob as frequently as possible. “Throw all your pants into a bonfire?”
“Shut up.”
“You’re not going to tell me? You can’t keep me in suspense after I dragged myself down to the bowels of hell to hold your hand.”
“It’s nothing some antibiotics won’t cure.”
He pays the nurse, and she calls a cab for us.
Downstairs, Jacob glances at the building then hunches over and pulls something out of his jacket pocket. “I relieved them of some of these.” He giggles like a little kid.
I stare at the hypodermics in his hand. “I thought you kicked that shit back in L.A.? What the fuck do you need needles for?”
“I don’t want to share with Vinnie. He’s been fucking everything with a pulse. God only knows what he has.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and tip my head back. This tour gets worse every day. “Is that what you and Garrett are up to? Speedballs with Vinnie?”
“Vinnie’s a generous dude. You should come party on their bus with us more often.”
“No thanks.”
I nod to the hypodermics he’s stuffing inside his coat. What the fuck am I going to do about this? “We could’ve, you know, stopped at a drug store or something. You didn’t need to steal from the free clinic.”
“The opportunity presented itself, so I took them.” He shrugs. “No biggie.”
“Yeah, sure.”
As much as Jacob pisses me off, this new development kills me. But I have no idea how to handle it without making things worse.
What can I do to stop my friend and bandmate from taking this long, casual stroll into the abyss?
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Mallory
“Cut!” The director yells.
My assistant tosses a robe my way, and I hurry to wrap it over my skimpy swimsuit.
Please let this be it for the day.
“Jesus,” Pamela mutters. “That had to be the longest shoot in history.”
“I know.” I sneak a look at the clock. “I’m hoping we’re done.”
“Big plans?”
The question’s full of the usual snark I’ve come to expect from Pamela. Working on the same show, our boyfriends both out on tour together, you’d think we’d be friends. But she’s treated me more like a competitor since the day the producers announced I’d now have a recurring role in the series. I don’t know why. She’s still the star. My face isn’t even shown in the credits.
“I’m flying out to see Chaser,” I answer without looking at her. I’d learned the first week the guys were out on tour she didn’t want to talk about anything related to Vicious Vandals.
“How cute. God only knows what you’ll walk in on.”
Chaser and I are way past the stage in our relationship where I’m insecure about what he’s doing out on the road. Despite the expense, he calls me every night after a show. On his days off, we’re able to talk longer, and he’s filled me in on everything.
“I’m sure it’ll be chaos.” I shrug and turn to leave for my dressing room. I have a flight to catch.
After several delays, my plane finally lands in Houston. I can’t push my way through the throng of people to find Chaser fast enough.
“Are you really finally here or am I dreaming?” he asks as I throw myself against him.
“I thought I’d never get here. Have you been waiting the whole time?”
“Baby, I’d wait for you forever.” He cups my face, tilting my head to the side. “How are you even more beautiful than when I left?”
The chance to answer is stolen when he leans down and presses his lips to mine for a deep, unhurried kiss.
When he releases me, I sway on my feet. All around us, people have stopped to stare. Whether it’s from our melting-hot reunion kiss or because they recognize him, I’m not sure. Chaser easily slides back into his give-no-fucks persona, ignoring the gawkers.
“Any bags?” he asks.
I hold up my one lone duffel. “Nope. I didn’t want to waste any time. I hope you’ll forgive the lack of makeup and dressy clothes this weekend.”
His lips curl. “You didn’t need to bring any clothes at all, little dove.”
Outside, he’s more serious. “I borrowed Darren’s car. It’s disgusting.”
“I don’t care.”
“And we have to sleep on the bus tonight. Actually, it’s rolling out at midnight.” He stops to check his watch.
“Chaser, I’ll sleep on the side of the highway as long as I’m with you.”
We arrive at the stadium parking lot quicker than I expected. Except for a few scattered cars, groups of random people loitering around, and three large tour buses, the lot is empty.
“How was the show?” Guilt that I’d missed another one of Kickstart’s performances gnaws at me.
“Incredible. The crowd was amazing. Most of them already had the new songs memorized. It was wild.”