Andrew seems to set aside his misery and straightens up. “What?”
“We had a guy show up to see Mallory today. A sort of ex. I don’t want him bothering her tomorrow at the show. So, if I’m occupied, you think you can look out for her? Make sure no one’s hassling my girl?”
“Yeah. I can do that.” Andrew’s gaze shifts between Chaser and me. “You okay, Mallory?”
Still shocked Chaser made the request, I only nod.
“My family will be there, so you can still go on about your regular business.” Chaser rolls his eyes. “But just in case, look out for her, okay?”
“You got it.” Andrew slaps Chaser on the back a few times. “Are you guys meeting us for dinner?”
“We’ll be down in a few.”
“Cool!” He waves at me before taking off, slamming the door behind him.
“Why would you do that?” I ask.
Chaser strips off his T-shirt and tosses it near our bags. “Do what?”
Trying not to get distracted by inked pecs and perfect abs, I answer, “Bring Andrew any closer to my family…stuff by asking him to watch over me.” I follow him into the bedroom.
“Two reasons. One, I actually want as many people looking out for you as possible. Two, it’ll give him something to do so he stops whining about Pamela. Make him feel useful. Half the time I think that’s his problem. Not enough responsibility.”
“Careful, Chaser.” I bite my lip and stare as he strips out of his jeans. “Don’t let his irresponsibility become your responsibility.”
“Too late for that.”
Chapter Thirteen
Mallory
Excited energy combined with a let’s-get-it-over-with attitude seems to permeate the mood backstage the next afternoon. Alvin’s busy picking at the buffet table set up for us, while Andrew demands my attention.
“Feels like the longest tour of my life,” Andrew moans, rubbing a hand over his side.
“Does it still hurt?” I ask. “You really should’ve rested a few more days before getting back on the road.”
“Fuck that. You know how long some of those kids probably saved to buy their tickets?”
“That’s sweet but I bet they’d rather know their favorite drummer was in good health.”
“Not their problem.”
I can’t help but be touched by his concern for his fans.
“Have you heard from Pamela?” he asks with hopeful puppy eyes.
“Not yet.” I want to add we’re not exactly that close, but don’t see the point.
He reaches over to the large, metal tub someone placed on the floor. It’s full of ice, sodas, beer, and a few bottles of champagne. Shoving a hand into the pile of ice cubes, he pulls out a dripping can of 7-Up and hands it to me.
“Thanks.” Even though I didn’t ask, I am thirsty, so I pop the top and I swipe at droplets of water that landed on my leg.
“You look hot.” He sweeps his gaze over me from head to toe. “Did I mention that?”
“You did. Several times.” Worried I’ll accidentally flash someone, I stand and tug the short leather dress down.
“Careful,” Andrew murmurs, eyes glued to my chest.
“Shoot.” This was a mistake. The thin little straps don’t do much to keep the dress up and every time I try to pull the skirt down, I’m in danger of my boobs falling out.
“You want a T-shirt to wear over it?” he offers, picking up a black backpack and rummaging through the contents.
I glare at him. “I’m not falling for that again.”
“Not that T-shirt.” He tosses a grungy black shirt my way that smells like it hasn’t been washed once on the whole tour. And eww, is it crusty?
“Pew!” I yelp and throw it back in his lap. “Did something die in there?”
“Oh, yeah. Whoops. A thousand potential little Andrews.” He shoves his nose in it and sniffs. “Sorry. Wrong shirt.”
“Gross.” Vomit burns the back of my throat. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I have a clean one here somewhere.” He opens the backpack wider and tosses items around.
“It’s fine, Andrew.” Ignoring his protests, I grab the short denim vest I brought with me off the end of the couch. I slip it on, buttoning it half-way. “Does that look okay?”
He sits back and rubs his hand over his chin. “From a red-blooded male perspective, it’s better without the vest in the way. But if I’m Chaser, I’d prefer it on and buttoned to the top.” He touches his chin.
“Thanks,” I grumble. “Very helpful.”
“Are you nervous about meeting his family?”
“No, I’ve met them before.” I doubt Stump cares what I’m wearing. On second thought, I can’t seem to sit still. Maybe seeing the club explains some of my jitters.
“Are you sad the tour’s over?” I ask to take the attention off me.
“Yeah.” His lost puppy face returns. “Not looking forward to going home to an empty house.”
“You better hope there’s a house to go home to. Pamela was mad enough to burn it down while you’re gone.”
“Shit.” He rubs his hands over the back of his neck. “I didn’t think of that. She wouldn’t…would she?”
“What you did was pretty gross.”
He glances away. “Would you burn Chaser’s house down?”
“No, I’d cut off his dick,” I answer without thinking. “A house is a small price to pay.”
He sits back and rubs his crotch. “Jesus Christ. I never knew you were so scary, Mallory.”
I shrug.
“Knowing Chaser, it’s just a bigger turn on,” Alvin says, winking at me.
“True,” I agree.
“It’s kind of hot.” Andrew pulls a sketchpad out of his backpack and flips it open. “How long are you and Chaser going to be gone?”
“At least a week. We can’t be away too long. He has to leave and record the album.”
Alvin presses his palms together prayer style. “Please, dear spirits don’t let this recording go like the last one.”
“Nah.” Andrew waves off Alvin’s concern. “Mark won’t put up with any shit. Plus, Jacob’s been good.”
Maybe one positive thing came out of Andrew getting shot—Jacob’s sobriety.
Andrew turns the sketchpad toward me. I admire his comic book style drawings as he flips through each page. “Is there anything you’re not good at?”
“Keeping my dick in my pants,” he answers with a straight face.
“Well, you’re self-aware.” I pat the top of his head. “That’s a start.”
Alvin covers his face with his hands and cough-laughs.
Ignoring both of us, Andrew continues flipping through the sketchbook. “I’m thinking of starting a side project. Like a T-shirt company. Vicious Vandals-inspired. Kyle’s dicking me around about using the band’s name, so I might end up calling it Kyle’s-A-Cocksucker but I think it might be fun.”
I chuckle at the casual way he mentions disagreements with his bandmate.
“You think you’d be interested in modeling for me?” he asks.
“T-shirts?”
“Yeah. I mean, you’ve done modeling, right? Frederick’s of Hollywood, Secret Nothings—”
“Wait, how do you know that?” Those jobs were before Chaser and Andrew met. I can’t picture Andrew sitting around flipping through old lingerie catalogs…on second thought, yes I can.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Pamela probably mentioned it. But you have experience with regular clothes too, right? L.A. Gear, Guess—”
“Gina-Marie Johnson did the Guess campaign.” I tilt my head. “Do all blondes with big boobs look the same to you?”
He scratches his head. “Not really.”
“I’d let Gina-Marie ride my Johnson any day of the week,” Alvin adds.
“Pipe down, over there,” I say over my shoulder.
“High-five, bro.” Andrew throws his palm up in the air.
The door swings open. No
more time to scold the guys. Chaser enters, followed by his dad, Tally, and a few other guys I recognize from the clubhouse.
“Stump!” I rush over, happy to see him.
His usually intimidating, scary biker face softens as I approach. He opens his arms wide and scoops me up in an affectionate hug. “How you doin’, princess?”
I’m too caught up in his comforting leather-and-cigarette-smoke scent to answer right away. “I’m so happy to see you,” I mumble against his shoulder.
He sets me down but holds onto my hands. “You all right?”
Wow, I forgot how penetrating his stare can be when he’s probing for information. “I’m good.”
His gaze shifts to Chaser. “I heard you had a visitor yesterday.”
“We did. It was weird, but Chaser handled it.”
“Good. I had the message. Planned to let you know today. Didn’t have a way to get a hold of you when you were on the road. Didn’t think he’d be such an impatient asshole about it. Sorry, princess.”
“Not your fault, Stump.” I drop my gaze. “I’m sorry you’re caught up in the middle…”
His fingers brush my chin and he tips my head back. “Don’t apologize.”
Chaser coughs and takes my hand. “She talked to the lawyer last night. Everything should be okay for now.”
“Chipmunk!” Tally shouts.
Stump grunts and searches the room, his face lighting up when he spots Alvin. “Get over here, son.”
Tally gets to Alvin first, lifting him up in a great big bear hug and bouncing him in the air a few times before setting him down. “Long time, motherfucker.”
Stump shakes Alvin’s hand and pulls him in for a thump on the back. “Look good, kid. Miss ya.”
“Thanks, Pop.” Alvin grins. “I’m so stoked you’re here tonight.”
Tally eyes Chaser for a few seconds before greeting me with a, “Hey, hon.” He leans over and presses a quick peck on my cheek. “Good to see you.”
“You too. How was your ride down here?”
“Uneventful.”
Chaser shows the guys to the buffet and introduces his father to Robbie and Thom.
Someone taps my hip and I turn to find Andrew. “You didn’t tell me Chaser’s dad was a biker,” he whispers, his eyes darting around the room. “And his whole family.”
I peer up at a him. “Was I supposed to?”
“No. I mean. That’s cool. I didn’t realize. The guys we met up with to go to the Palm, you know for Audrey, they were. Same club. I just didn’t realize…family.”
Somehow I manage to follow his word salad. Since I’m not exactly sure how to answer, I shrug. “Stump’s a good man.”
“Stump?” Andrew screws up his face and stares at Chaser’s dad. “The guy’s built more like a redwood tree.”
“Please don’t say that to him, Andrew,” I caution.
“I mean it in a nice way.”
I pat his shoulder. “I’m sure you do.”
After everyone’s eaten, we end up walking down the hallway to watch the roadies set up the stage for Kickstart.
“This is a far cry from those small bar stages you used to play,” Stump says with a proud thump on Chaser’s back.
“No kidding. Someone else gets to set up and break it all down too.” To anyone else, Chaser probably seems completely at ease but I can’t help noticing his jittery hands at his sides, drumming against his jeans. I wrap my fingers around his, calming his restless tapping and he smiles down at me.
“Oh, Dad.” Chaser motions Andrew closer. “This is my friend, Andrew. Andrew, this is my father.”
Andrew ambles forward, almost shy compared to how he normally behaves, and sticks out his hand. “Chaser always says such good things about you, Mr. Adams. Happy to finally meet you. I’m in the headlining band.”
Unimpressed, Stump stares at Andrew’s hand for a few seconds before shaking it.
“Your son is totally rad, Mr. Adams,” Andrew continues, apparently eager to win Stump over. “We’ve worked together on a few pieces and he’s brilliant.”
“Well, I’ve never heard that before.” Stump rumbles with laughter and elbows Chaser.
“Ha. Ha.” Chaser rolls his eyes.
Stump eyes Andrew up and down. “You’re the one who got him into all the trouble in Texas.”
Andrew clasps his hands in front of him and meets Stump’s intimidating stare. “Yes, sir. Got him out of the trouble as soon as I could too.”
Stump grumbles at him.
“Wasn’t Andrew’s fault, Dad,” Chaser says.
“They ever catch the fool who shot you?” Stump asks Andrew.
“No, sir.” He scratches the side of his head. “I haven’t exactly been eager to get in touch with the cops though, either.”
Now, that, I think, Stump admires. He gives Andrew a half-smile.
“Did I pass the test?” Andrew whispers to Chaser after Stump drifts a few steps away.
“You’re still breathing, so that’s a good sign.” Chaser slaps him on the back. “I need to go get rigged up.” He nods to me. “Are you okay out here?”
“I’ll be fine.” I glance around the backstage area. I’m surrounded by half of Kickstart, a bunch of bikers, and Andrew. “No one will bother me.”
He leans in and kisses my cheek before running off in search of his guitar tech.
“Is Chaser’s dad always so friendly?” Andrew whispers to me.
“I don’t know. He likes me.”
“You’re too sweet not to like,” he teases.
I’m too wired for the show to scold Andrew for the flirty comment. It won’t matter anyway.
Instead, I take a second to check on Alvin. He can’t seem to stop pacing. More than his usual pre-show nerves. I stop him and pull him in for a quick good luck hug. “You’re going to be amazing.”
One corner of his mouth lifts. “Huge crowd tonight.”
I’m not sure if he means here backstage or the audience out front already chanting Kickstart’s name.
Andrew slaps him on the back, almost knocking him over. “You got this!”
“Thanks, man.”
A DJ from one of the local rock stations announces Kickstart tonight. The guys line up without Jacob.
“Where is he?” I ask Chaser.
“He’s coming.”
“Literally,” Garrett adds.
“Gross,” I mutter.
“That’s my boy!” Andrew cheers.
Alvin runs on stage first. The crowd’s exuberant shouts shake the walls. From where I’m standing, I can’t tell if their rowdy welcome calms or intensifies Alvin’s nerves.
Chaser tugs me forward. “Kiss for luck,” he murmurs.
Our lips meet. Pressured to get on stage or not, Chaser takes his time. Softly, gently, and thoroughly, he slides his lips against mine. I curl my hands in his T-shirt and tug. He cups my face and kisses me harder, slipping his tongue between my lips, stroking against mine. He tastes like mint gum and something sweeter.
Before we get carried away and he misses his show, I pull away, blinking up at him. “Good luck,” I whisper.
“I don’t need luck. I have you.” He presses a quicker kiss to my forehead before strolling onto the stage, hands above his head, waving to everyone.
The audience goes wild. Many, many females screaming declarations of their devotion can be heard above the crowd’s more ordinary exuberance.
I give Garrett a quick pat on the back before he goes out.
Ignoring Thom’s pleas to “hurry up and get out there,” Jacob stops in front of me. “Will you be mad if I bring you out during ‘Candy Jar’?” He tips his head in Stump’s direction. “With your father-in-law here and all, I don’t want to embarrass you.”
How far we’ve come. A few months ago, I don’t think Jacob would’ve given my feelings a second thought. I reach up and smooth his wayward hair into place. “If you guys want me out there tonight, I’ll do it.”
“You’re the best,
” he calls over his shoulder while jogging onto the stage.
The familiar beat of Alvin’s drum hushes the crowd. I move over to Stump’s side. “We can watch from the front of the stage if you want a better view,” I offer.
Robbie assured me earlier he’d keep an area clear for Chaser’s family. Unfortunately, it’s really close to the pit where fans are pressed up tight to the metal fencing corralling them away from the stage. A few people recognize me and wave. Some guy reaches over the fence, hooks his sausage fingers in my vest, and yanks, pulling me off-balance.
“Get the fuck off her!” Tally swoops in behind me and shoves the guy.
A security guard for the venue rushes over, jumping the barrier and tackling sausage fingers to the floor.
Tally glares into the crowd defiantly, daring anyone to test him.
“I’m okay,” I assure Tally, yanking him away from the crowd before things get volatile.
Stump scowls at the security guards now dragging the man away. “People bother you like that every night?” he shouts.
“I usually stay backstage.”
He grunts and motions for me to walk in front of him.
Robbie nods when he spots us and waves us into a darkened space right below the stage. Chaser’s on the opposite side so even craning our necks, we only get a glimpse of him every now and then.
“Can we go back and watch from where we were?” Stump shouts between songs.
“Sure.”
I lead them through the darkened corridor, this time safely sandwiched between Stump and Tally. I smile up at Tally. “I could get used to this. Makes me wish you guys were with us all the time.”
He chuckles. “If they get a bigger budget for their next tour, Chaser can hire some of his brothers for security.”
“He’d probably prefer that. People he fully trusts. Robbie’s been great but—”
“He’s not a brother,” Tally finishes for me.
“Right.” We return to the backstage area. Andrew’s busy with his usual pre-show gaggle of groupies but he waves when he sees me.
“What about you? You all right out in Hollywood?” Tally asks. “They sure print some vicious shit about you.”
His gaze slides toward Andrew and shame heats my skin. Tally wouldn’t bother reading stupid Hollywood gossip magazines, would he? Did he see the ridiculous articles claiming I was running around with Andrew behind Chaser’s back? Does he think I’d cheat on Chaser?
Wheels of Fire (Hollywood Demons Book 3) Page 9
