Thrill Me

by Olivia Cunning

  “That’s the part that makes this exciting.”

  “It is exciting.”

  He kept her on the line until Jordan came for him.

  The guys hung out on the bus before they had to head backstage and prepare for the show. Except for Kelly. Kelly hadn’t made it back yet. Adam, who was apparently inspired by his woman leaving him, was having a great songwriting day. Owen couldn’t remember the last time the lyrics and music had flowed so easily for him. The entire band was riding Adam’s creative high. Owen was in a better mood now that he and Caitlyn had talked and she’d made her list of plans, so he joked around with his bandmates like old times. The camaraderie between them actually felt normal for a change.

  About an hour before the show, Owen began to feel that something was wrong. The band was getting along better than it ever had and was currently goofing off backstage with some VIP guests, so that bit of anxiety was missing and couldn’t explain the dread he was feeling. Kelly still hadn’t arrived, and Owen started to think maybe something terrible had happened to him. They’d been friends so long that he sometimes thought they shared a psychic link. He called Kelly to put his mind at ease, and Kelly answered on the first ring.

  “I’m stuck in traffic. Some accident has the entire highway closed. I hope I can get to the show in time.”

  “You’re okay, though?” Owen asked.

  “Of course. Other than being highly annoyed. Sorry to worry you.”

  “Like I’d ever worry about you.” But he had been worried, because even though he was talking to Kelly, something still felt wrong. “I’ll let the guys know you might be late.”

  “I refuse to be late, even if I have to hydroplane this rental car through the bayou.”

  Owen laughed at the mental image and told Kelly he’d see him soon. He called Caitlyn next. She was fine and not even slightly annoyed that he’d called. He phoned his mom and asked how her day with Lindsey had gone—maybe something was wrong with the baby. But all was well on the home front too.

  “Did Chad call you tonight?” Mom asked.

  Chad! That was why he was feeling off. His brother called every couple of nights. It wasn’t unusual for him to miss calling; he was a busy soldier, after all. But that had to be why Owen felt off. “Maybe he called Josie.” Chad was less likely to miss calling his long-time girlfriend than his parents and younger brother.

  “Nope. That’s why I asked if he called you. Josie asked if I’d heard from him.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” Owen said, clutching the dog tags around his neck and sending a silent prayer to his brother’s protector. He almost let it slip to Mom that they’d be seeing Chad soon, but remembered in time that Chad had sworn him to secrecy. Chad wanted to surprise everyone by returning from his tour of duty unannounced.

  “I’m sure he is too,” Mom said. “Don’t worry about Lindsey and the baby. I’ll take good care of them while you’re away.”

  Owen bit his lip to hold back a laugh. Did his mother imagine he was sitting around ringing his hands over Lindsey? She’d be sorely disappointed by her son in that regard. Lindsey was out of sight, out of mind.

  Owen texted several people on his contact list—including his grandmother—to assure himself that everyone was okay. Yet he still couldn’t shake the feeling that all was not right in the world. While Owen was saying goodbye to his “perfectly fine” cousin Pete, Kelly rushed behind the stage, joining the rest of the band just minutes before they were to go on.

  “You made it,” Owen said, slapping him on the arm.

  “Remind me never to drive from Galveston to New Orleans again.”

  Owen glanced around. He’d suspected it when he’d talked to Kelly in the car, but the lack of a woman in tow confirmed his suspicions. “Dawn didn’t come back with you?”

  Kelly shook his head. “We’re trying to sort out where we go next.”

  Owen scratched his jaw. “Yeah, Caitlyn and I hit that point as well. Fortunately, we talked it out and are moving forward.”

  Kelly offered him a weak smile. “That’s great.”

  Owen frowned. He felt Kelly was feigning enthusiasm, but he threw off his concern to ask, “You ever get the feeling that something is wrong? Or that something bad is about to happen?”

  “Sometimes,” Kelly said.

  “I’ve been feeling like that for about an hour. I called a bunch of people, and everyone assures me they’re okay, but this feeling of dread won’t go away.”

  “Where’s Adam?” Jacob unexpectedly interjected himself into Owen and Kelly’s conversation.

  Owen glanced around, not seeing any sign of their lead guitarist, and shrugged. “No idea.”

  Jacob turned his attention to the black guitar—Adam’s favorite—sitting in a stand next to the stage. “He left his guitar.”

  “Maybe he had to go to the bathroom,” Kelly suggested, his grin wide. “Ever try to take a piss with a guitar strapped on?”

  “Can’t say that I have,” Jacob said, his gaze trained on the double doors that led to the dressing room.

  Maybe that was what was giving Owen unshakable anxiety. Maybe something had happened to Adam during the minutes Owen had been contacting almost every person he knew. As far as he knew, Adam hadn’t been using heroin again, but he had been working on his songwriting today, and in the past he’d abused drugs to get the edge he needed to write. Owen was grateful when Jacob sent a couple of roadies to search for the missing guitarist, praying they wouldn’t find him in some bathroom stall suffering another heroin overdose.

  They waited in terse silence for signs of the guitarist. Gabe eventually came down from the stage where he’d been waiting behind his drum kit to start the show. “What’s the holdup?”

  “Adam’s missing,” Jacob said.

  “Missing?”

  “Yeah, he was just here.”

  And it was as if he’d vanished.

  “Should we go look for him?” Owen asked Kelly.

  “Let the road crew handle it. We wouldn’t want them to have to round us all up again when they find him.”

  Except when the crew returned about ten minutes later, Adam wasn’t with them.

  “He wasn’t in the bathroom or the dressing room,” one roadie said.

  “Not on the bus either,” another told them. “I found his earpiece on the ground behind the bus. At least I think it’s his.”

  The guy dropped the earpiece into Jacob’s outstretched hand. “Was his motorcycle still there?” Jacob asked.

  “I didn’t see one.”

  “Fuck!” Jacob yelled. “Did he say anything to any of you?”

  When Jacob’s glare landed on Owen, Owen shook his head and glanced at Kelly, who shook his head as well.

  “Fuck!” Jacob shouted again. “What in the hell is he thinking?”

  The feeling of dread intensified in Owen, so strong that he rubbed at his chest. And Owen figured he knew what had caused it. “Maybe there’s an emergency.” It seemed the only logical reason why their lead guitarist would leave right before the show without telling anyone where he was going.

  “Even if there is, he could have taken a few seconds to tell someone,” Jacob said.

  That was true. Unless he was unconscious.

  “Fuck!” Jacob yelled his favorite word again. “I’m going after him.”

  “Do you know where he went?” Gabe asked.

  Jacob checked his phone, and Owen realized he was tracking him with that creepy app he had installed to keep tabs on their recovering-addict guitarist.

  “Fuck!” he yelled when apparently the app confirmed his fears. “He’s headed west.”

  “What’s west?” Kelly asked.

  “Texas. Madison. His fucking heroin dealer. How the hell should I know?”

  “Calm down,” Owen said. Throwing a tantrum wouldn’t get them anywhere. “We’ll figure something out.”

  “I’ll try calling him,” Kelly said in a calm voice. Owen was glad one of them was calm. Even Gabe
was pacing now. “Maybe he’ll answer.”

  “What’s going on?” Sally said, announcing her arrival backstage. “Why aren’t you on stage?”

  “Adam isn’t here,” Jacob said. “We can’t perform without our lead guitarist, can we?”

  “I’m worried,” Owen said, his eyes on Kelly as he shook his head to let them know Adam wasn’t answering his phone. “He wouldn’t just run off like that unless it was a life or death situation.” Adam was in trouble. Not the regular trouble that followed the guy like a plague, but trouble that caused him to run off without saying a word. Huge trouble.

  “Yes, he would.”

  Of course Jacob would contradict Owen’s assessment of the situation. Jacob was incapable of seeing the world through anyone’s eyes but his own.

  “I was the one who dealt with him when he was at his worst. You all pretended everything was just fine while I was forced to get him lucid enough to perform. It was only a year ago. Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten.”

  Of course they hadn’t forgotten. And while Jacob had taken a very exasperating hands-on approach to Adam’s struggles with addiction, the rest of them had tried to keep the bomb of a relationship between the two of them from exploding and taking them all out.

  “He’s changed, Jacob.” Gabe clutched the back of his neck with one hand as he stared at the floor.

  “He has?” Jacob shook his head, his angry voice finally going soft. “Sorry, but I don’t see it.”

  Without another word, Jacob climbed up on stage and took his microphone out of its stand. What the fuck was he doing?

  “Good evening, New Orleans,” he called out to the audience. “You look ready to rock!” They cheered in anticipation. “Unfortunately, our performance is not going to happen tonight. Our lead guitarist, Adam Taylor, was called away on an emergency. So we have to cancel the show.”

  At least he hadn’t thrown Adam under the bus and claimed he was a thoughtless, irresponsible asshole who hadn’t bothered to tell anyone where he was going. Owen truly believed that Adam had been called away on an emergency. An emergency so terrible that he’d forgotten his other responsibilities.

  A roar of discontent reverberated through the stadium. The crowd didn’t seem too forgiving of Adam’s troubles.

  “I’m not sure if they’ll issue refunds or reschedule the performance,” Jacob said, “but we’ll square you away. I promise.”

  “This is a fucking nightmare,” Gabe said.

  “Understatement of the century. The fans are pissed,” Owen said. And he couldn’t blame them. If he was in their shoes, he’d be pissed too.

  Within a minute Jacob was back to calling out to the crowd and asking them to stay. What the fuck was he thinking? They couldn’t go onstage without a lead guitarist.

  A moment later Jacob ushered a skinny teenage boy in a black beanie into the backstage area. Now what was he up to?

  “Did you get ahold of Adam?” he asked Kelly.

  Kelly frowned and shook his head.

  “Okay.” Jacob nudged the wide-eyed kid forward. “This guy says he knows all our songs by heart and can take Adam’s place onstage tonight.”

  For real? Owen highly doubted that, but he was willing to give this solution a shot. None of them wanted to disappoint the fans. The fans made the whole rock star gig possible.

  “So I say we give him a chance to prove himself,” Jacob said. “What’s your name?”

  “Wes.”

  “Give Adam’s guitar to Wes,” Jacob said to Adam’s technician. “Let’s see what he’s got.”

  Surprisingly, the kid was an excellent guitarist. Not as good as the professional he’d be temporarily replacing, but he had definite talent.

  They gave Wes his shot in the spotlight, and he didn’t let them down. Jacob even managed to get the audience behind the young man’s one night as a rock star. Owen felt guilty for allowing someone to fill Adam’s shoes. Maybe they should have just canceled the show, but fan satisfaction was more important than his feelings of loyalty. He just hoped Adam would be back for their next show. They couldn’t continue without him for long.

  They played through their entire set list and when the concert was over, Owen couldn’t get to the tour bus fast enough. He wanted to put tonight and New Orleans behind him. He still had a niggling feeling that something was terribly wrong. He kept expecting the state patrol to call and tell them that Adam had been involved in a deadly accident.

  “I actually think Jacob was okay with that little scenario,” Kelly commented as he flopped down next to Owen on the tour bus sofa.

  “More than okay with it,” Gabe said. “I think he preferred it. He had Sally get that kid’s information.”

  “He’s a nice kid and all,” Owen said, “but . . .”

  “. . . he’s no Adam Taylor,” he, Kelly, and Gabe finished in unison.

  Jacob was near the back of the bus, ignoring them, or maybe just putting off the conversation they had to have. Turning their backs on Adam was not an option, yet Owen was pretty sure Jacob had already done so. He would probably never forgive Adam this time. Disappointing his bandmates was one thing; letting the fans down was an unforgivable offense. And Owen was pretty sure Jacob had never truly forgiven Adam for all the shit he’d put them through in the past. Tonight was one more brick of a burden stacked on an already laboring relationship.

  “Anyone hear from Adam yet?” Jacob asked nonchalantly.

  None of them had.

  “I’ve had it with his bullshit,” Jacob said. “Adam’s out of the band.”

  The entire world flipped upside down. Owen blinked to reset his reeling mind and managed to say, “What?”

  “He’s toxic,” Jacob continued. “We need to get rid of him. Replace him with someone who takes our success seriously.”

  “Adam writes all of our music,” Kelly said. “We can’t just kick him out.”

  And not only that, he was a freaking amazing guitarist. They worked in perfect harmony on stage and in the recording studio, even if their personal relationships were a bit rocky—on par with the mountain range kind of rocky—but they cared about each other.

  “We’ll write the music ourselves and if necessary, hire songwriters,” Jacob said with a shrug.

  Songwriters? Songwriters! They couldn’t hire fucking songwriters. No songwriter could ever match the feel of their music, the sound of it, or the purpose behind it. Had Jacob lost his fucking mind?

  “This is bullshit,” Kelly said, giving voice to Owen’s jumbled thoughts. “Adam is one of us. He’s always been one of us. We can’t do this to him.”

  “We don’t even know why he took off,” Owen added. “I’m sure he had a good reason.”

  “More than two hours later, and he still hasn’t checked in to let us know what the fuck is going on!” Jacob yelled. “He obviously doesn’t give a shit about any of us or the fans or the music. All he cares about is himself. It’s time to cut him loose. If he wants to destroy himself, fine, but I’m not letting him take the rest of us down with him.”

  “I want to hear what he has to say before I weigh in,” Gabe said. “For all we know, he’s dead in a ditch somewhere.”

  Owen went light-headed. “Don’t even say that.” It was very possible that Adam was dead in a ditch somewhere. In fact, he was almost sure of it. They hadn’t heard from him for hours.

  Then again, maybe he was too afraid to call them, knowing that Jacob would likely overreact.

  “It would save me the trouble of telling him to fuck off,” Jacob said in a growl of a voice.

  Owen couldn’t believe he would say that about a friend. A brother. Not a brother by blood, maybe, but they’d been through so much together, they had important bonds. “You’re such an asshole.”

  Jacob got in Owen’s face, so close that their noses were almost touching. “I’d rather be an asshole than a spineless wuss.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Owen shoved him away. What a fucking prick. Just becaus
e Owen didn’t march around like some self-important blowhard didn’t mean he was spineless or a wuss.

  “You’re a pushover, Owen. You always have been.”

  “Don’t take your frustration with Adam out on Owen,” Kelly said, placing a calming hand on Owen’s thigh. “You’re the one who never bends. You’re the mighty oak, standing tall and rigid against any force that threatens your position.” He slammed his other fist against his own chest.