“Billy’s here. She wants to talk to you.”
Memphis shook her head. “Not up to dealing with her right now.” Her voice was rough from the throwing up she’d done the night before.
Remington nodded. “Okay.” She went back to the door, opened it, and stepped through, closing it behind her pointedly.
“She’s not in the mood for you this morning.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Billy said irritably. “Is everyone on her side this morning?”
Remington’s eyes narrowed dangerously as she took a menacing step toward Billy. Billy had the good sense to look afraid.
“Do you even think before you open that mouth of yours?” Remington said sharply. “Or do you really have no clue?”
“Clue about what?” Billy said, a little more cautiously.
“Do you get what happened to that kid yesterday?” Remington hooked her thumb toward the room behind her.
“She got into a fight with some guy and ended up in jail.”
“That guy was trying to save her from the sin of being a homosexual, Billy! He grabbed her—she hit him in self-defense and landed in jail because of it. And, oh yeah, because she’s gay, the cops were nice enough to beat her up too,” she snarled.
“What! No way!” Billy said, shaking her head.
“No way, Billy? You don’t get it because while you’ll play at being gay, you’re not, and you’ll never get attacked for it. You’ll never have someone come after you because of it!” She stepped closer to Billy, backing her up against the wall. “We’re surrounded by hate every fucking day in this world, and people like you turn your pretty heads and ignore it! Well, you can’t ignore it this time, because you caused it with your petty bullshit.” She laid her hand on the wall above Billy’s head, leaning down menacingly. “That kid is the most open and happy person I’ve ever met, and all she’s ever tried to do for you is make you sound good. For that she got screamed at, bitched at, and called names, and when she snapped, she ended up being the one hurt. So tell yourself whatever you need to, Billy, but don’t you dare fucking try to tell me ‘no way,’ because you don’t have any idea the danger we live with every day.”
Billy stared up at Remington, swallowing convulsively, her blue eyes blinking repeatedly. She licked her lips nervously. She hadn’t thought about any of that; she hadn’t thought about the fact that the arena they were performing in was surrounded by hardcore Baptist churches that hated the gay community in the worst way. She hadn’t even thought about the fact that Memphis, tiny, androgynous-looking Memphis, was out there walking around all of those places. Memphis’ appearance screamed “gay!” to anyone who looked at her, and because of the way she’d stormed out of the arena, she’d left with her arms uncovered, not wearing the hoodie she almost always had on. Billy hadn’t thought about the fact that Memphis probably did that to cover her tattoo, which loudly proclaimed her lifestyle. Billy closed her eyes slowly, the full impact of what she’d done coming home to her.
“Remi…” Billy breathed. “I didn’t… I…” she stammered. “I’m sorry,” she said finally, shaking her head, tears in her eyes.
Remington’s expression didn’t change. “They could have killed her in that jail last night, Billy, and they’d have claimed that she did something to bring it on herself. That shit happens all the time.”
Billy nodded, tears slipping from her eyes.
“If you ever talk to her like that again,” Remington said gravely, “I will personally end your career by ripping out your vocal chords. Do you understand me?”
Billy looked up at Remington, her eyes wide. From the look in her eyes, she believed the woman would and could do exactly what she’d just threatened. She nodded, looking sufficiently cowed. Remington stepped back, gesturing for Billy to go. Billy moved past her and headed quickly for her room. She stood outside for a moment to let the feelings of panic and fear recede before going in.
Skyler had upbraided her the night before too, but he hadn’t had the angle on things that Remington did. She knew she’d screwed up badly; she just hoped she could somehow make it up to Memphis.
Later that morning, Quinn and Remington flanked Memphis as she walked to the bus, their looks telling everyone to leave the girl alone. Once on the bus, Wynter hugged Memphis, touching the bruise on her cheek gently.
“Gives you a kind of a tough look,” she said, smiling softly.
“Yeah, that’s what I was going for,” Memphis said, her smile not quite reaching her red-rimmed, tired eyes.
“Figured.” Wynter hugged her again.
Xandy insisted that she lie down to rest on the bus ride to the next town. It was a five-hour trip, and they could see that Memphis needed the sleep desperately. Memphis argued that she needed to work on the plans for the next venue.
“I need to research the system they’ve got,” Memphis said, sounding as tired as she looked.
“I’ll handle it,” one of the female audio techs said, smiling at her.
“There, you see?” Quinn said, winking at the girl, who she knew to be gay. “She’s got it—you go get some sleep.”
Memphis looked like she wanted to argue. Xandy took charge of her then, taking her by the shoulders and pointing her toward the bunks and gently marching her in that direction. Quinn, Remington, and Wynter exchanged looks, each of them grinning; Xandy could be the most effective mother-type when it came to her friends.
Once Memphis had settled into a bunk, she lay looking out the window. Her phone chimed. She picked it up and saw that she had multiple voicemail messages; she imagined they were all from Oliver. She opened the app and listened to each voicemail. She’d been right—most of them were from Oliver. There were two Kieran had left before she’d talked to her.
Getting to the last message, Memphis was curious to see if it would be from Oliver or Kieran. She opened it and listened. Her face went completely white, and the phone fell out of her grip as she gasped for breath. It took her five minutes to regain her composure. She picked up the phone, unplugged her headphones from it, then opened the window and dropped the phone out. She spent the rest of the journey in her bunk, trying to force down the fear she felt threatening to overwhelm her. She got no sleep. It was a rough night.
The week that followed was punctuated by an uncomfortable apology from Billy, which Memphis accepted without a word. By the time they finished their last show, everyone was exhausted, including Memphis.
She walked into her house at midnight, dropped her bags, and stumbled upstairs to bed. She fell dead asleep without even taking the time to kick off her tennis shoes.
The next morning Memphis dragged herself out of bed and into the shower. When she walked into her kitchen an hour later, she had her Bose headphones firmly in her ears, as always, and plugged into her ever-present iPod. She had the sound cranked on the techno music she was listening to, and danced to the beat as she fixed her coffee. Her head, hips, and feet were swaying; she looked very much like she was dancing at a club.
She was an interesting sight to behold. Her white-blond hair, shaved extremely short on the sides with a shock of thick hair up in a Mohawk, was still tinged red on the ends. She was forever changing her hair color, bouncing to whatever she was in the mood for that week. She wore dark blue skinny jeans low on her slim hips with an extremely colorful Ed Hardy belt, a white tank top tucked into the jeans in the front, and a gray hoody with black tribal designs on the sleeves. She also wore black leather tennis shoes and black leather fingerless gloves. Around her neck she wore long chains with various pendants hanging from them down to her mid-chest.
Memphis turned and just about jumped out of her skin. There was a young woman standing in the dining room, watching her with a rather amused grin on her lips.
“I’m so sorry!” the woman exclaimed.
Memphis reached up, pulling a headphone out of her ear. “Sorry?”
“No, I’m sorry,” the woman said again, her English accent very clear.
Mem
phis looked at the girl for a long moment. She knew her, but she didn’t.
Then it clicked. “You’re Kieran,” she said, smiling.
Kieran nodded and returned the smile. “Yes, and you’re Memphis.”
“Last time I checked,” Memphis said, narrowing her eyes slightly. “What’re you doing here?”
“We tried to let you know, but we never heard back from you…” Kieran looked somewhat hurt by that.
Memphis rolled her eyes and took a sip of her coffee. “I, uh, lost my phone last week.”
“Oh.” Kieran looked surprised. “We had no idea.”
Memphis looked back at the girl. “Well, I didn’t take an ad out in the trades about it or anything.”
“No, I imagine not,” Kieran said, laughing softly.
“So you’re here… but Oliver isn’t?”
“He went out of town unexpectedly.”
“And left you here all by yourself,” Memphis murmured. “He is so charming, isn’t he?”
“He was very apologetic.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet. Did he say when he’d be back?”
“He wasn’t sure.”
“How long have you been here? I mean, before shithead took off?”
Kieran couldn’t help but like Memphis. She certainly didn’t hide her feelings, and somewhere inside her heart she appreciated this woman’s kindness, because she sounded truly aghast at Oliver’s apparent abandonment.
“I was here two days before he had to leave.”
“And how long has he been gone?”
“Two days.”
Memphis shook her head. “Well, I’m on my way over to the studio. Did you want to come along?”
Kieran looked surprised by the offer, but then nodded excitedly. “I must admit, I’ve got very bored with TV and books.”
“Let me guess, shithead didn’t leave you the password to the Wi-Fi either?”
Kieran pressed her lips together, her cornflower-blue eyes wide with the desire not to talk badly about Oliver.
“I’ll take that as a no.” Memphis shook her head again. “The guy needs a sound beating, I’m tellin’ ya,” she said, grinning. “Well, go ahead and get ready. I’ll drink my coffee and wait for you.”
“I’ll be very quick—I don’t want to make you late.”
“I’m always about an hour early, so don’t worry.” Memphis moved to lean against the counter, sipping her coffee and switching her iPod output to the Bose speakers in the kitchen.
David Guetta’s “Titanium,” sung by Sia, flowed out. Kieran had noticed that there were speakers and iPod docking stations all over the house. Oliver had told her that Memphis was all about music. She was not only a sound engineer, but also a DJ of some popularity in the Southern California area. He’d also told her that Memphis was forever listening to different forms of music and thinking about ways to mix them. That she always had headphones in her ears—Kieran had seen that firsthand.
She brushed out her long, light brown hair, and put on just a touch of makeup. She changed shirts two or three times, hating the way she looked—she was so fat these days! Finally she settled on a baggy shirt and pulled on her shoes. Grabbing her purse, she went back downstairs. Memphis was still leaning against the counter, looking completely relaxed.
The Fall Out Boy song “This Ain’t a Scene, It’s an Arms Race” was now playing. Memphis was singing the lyrics. The first verse seemed to really fit what Kieran knew about Memphis. It talked about being a dealer, giving people weapons in the form of words.
“DJ anthem?” Kieran asked when the song ended.
“Pretty much,” Memphis said, grinning.
She’d texted Oliver to thank him for the surprise of his girlfriend being in the house that morning. He’d texted back apologies and said he’d call her later.
“Ready to go?” Memphis asked.
Kieran nodded. “Yes.”
Memphis used the remote to turn off the Bose, pocketing her iPod and picking up her keys from the counter. They walked out into the garage. Memphis pulled the cover off her red 1993 Porsche 911 GT2, smiling; she’d had to do some work on it, but it ran like a dream now, and she loved it—it showed.
“This is lovely,” Kieran said, sounding very English.
“Thanks.” Memphis grinned. She climbed in and leaned over to unlock the passenger door.
Memphis plugged in her iPod then started the car. It came alive with a nice rumbling purr. Memphis backed out of the garage, then closed the door with the remote.
She glanced over at Kieran as she drove. “So, how long does he have you here for?”
“I’ve got a six-month visa.”
“Whoa,” Memphis said, surprised.
“Yes, I’m hoping I can find work while I’m here.”
“I might be able to help there. You did secretarial work in London, didn’t you?” Memphis grimaced internally when she saw the surprised look on Kieran’s face.
“How did you know that?” Kieran asked.
“I guess Oliver told me… Anyway, have you ever been interested in working at a record company?”
“Are you kidding me?” Kieran sounded shocked. “Isn’t it everyone’s dream to come to Los Angeles and work in the music business?”
Memphis grinned. “Well, it was mine.”
“How could I get a job at a record company though? That seems like a job where you’d need to know someone.”
“Well, you do know someone. You know me.”
“And you have that kind of influence?”
“Well, I have a record exec who owes me a favor or two, so…” Memphis trailed off as she grinned.
“I know that you were on a tour, and Oliver said it was kind of a big one…”
“Yeah, I’m the sound engineer on the Four Queens with a Jack Kicker tour.”
“Is that the one with Wynter Kincade and that wonderful bodyguard?” Kieran asked, her eyes dreamy.
Memphis laughed, nodding. “Yeah, don’t let Billy Montague hear you call it that. She’d lose her shit! She and Remi are at odds right now.”
Kieran looked over at Memphis, her eyes wide. “Billy from Billy and the Kid?”
“Yeah, they’re part of the tour. Jordan Tate and Xandy Blue too.”
“Oh my goodness, and you’ve met all of them?”
“I’ve had to work with them on their sound at every stop. And Billy’s the only one that gives me grief.”
“She’s so beautiful though…”
“She’s a temperamental pain in the ass.”
Kieran laughed softly at Memphis’ description. “How wonderful to be working in that industry though. Oliver says that you are all about music.”
“Well, he’s right about that. It’s the only thing I’ve ever really cared about.”
“He also says you’re very talented.”
Memphis grinned. “That’s ’cause he’s not.”
Kieran laughed again. Memphis smiled over at her.
Reaching over, she hit the hands-free on the steering wheel, something she’d installed on the classic Porsche.
“Call Tabitha,” she said. The Bluetooth dialed, even as Kieran looked over at her.
“This is Tabitha,” a woman answered.
“Tabbie, hey, it’s Memphis.”
“Hey! I heard you were back in town for the break. How are you now? Is Billy behaving herself?”
“Yeah, she’s alright,” Memphis said, her lips twitching.
“Well, Sad gave her an ultimatum, you know. So she better back off of you now.”
Memphis pressed her lips together. She didn’t like that this was such a big deal to everyone—she really wanted to forget Houston for good.
“So, rumors are floating around that you’re going to do another set at The Club this break. Is that true?”
“You heard right,” Memphis said. “You gonna be brave and come down?”
Tabitha laughed. “Like I have to be brave! I’d love to come down. Maybe I’ll drag Dad down there. I also
heard that Millie’s trying to get you into a contract to stay there. That true?”
“She’s romancing me, yeah,” Memphis said, grinning.
“Good, I’ll make sure I tell Dad that too!”
Memphis laughed. “Uh-huh. Hey, look, Tabbie. I know you’re busy, but I was calling to ask you if you guys need any clerical help down there at this point.”
“You know we always need help—Dad runs them off constantly. Why, you know someone?”
Memphis glanced over at Kieran. “Yeah, she’s a friend.”
“Well, any friend of yours… Bring her down.”
“We’re actually headed in now. I’ve got a session with Cassie this morning.”
“Okay…” Tabitha stammered, pulling open her calendar on the computer. “Yeah, Dad should have some time later this morning. He’ll want to see you anyhow.”
“Okay,” Memphis said, shaking her head. “Thanks, Tabbie.”
“Anything for you, Memphis.”
“You say that now…”
“If I wasn’t madly in love with Devlin, Memphis, you and I would talk,” Tabitha said with a wink in her voice.
Memphis laughed. “Tease. We’ll see you later this morning.”
They hung up a moment later. Kieran looked over at Memphis. “Who is her father?”
“BJ Sparks,” Memphis said, grinning.
Kieran looked back at her, shocked. “You are joking, aren’t you?”
“Nope, that was Tabitha Sparks-McGregor.”
“Oh my goodness…”
Memphis simply grinned. “You okay over there?”
“I’m fine,” Kieran said, her voice a little higher pitched than normal. “Just having a heart attack, I think.”
“Well, I don’t know CPR, so…”
“How about mouth to mouth?” Kieran asked, her eyes sparkling humorously.
“Well, yeah, I’m good at that.” Memphis chuckled, covering her surprise effectively.
“When you said you have a session with Cassie, you don’t mean Cassie Roads, do you?”
In Plain Sight (WeHo Book 11) Page 6
