by Susan Ward
Loud clapping erupts as champagne corks pop.
It’s festive in the conference room at Sunrise West Records. They just signed the ‘greatest guitarist of a generation’ or at least that’s what I heard whispered behind my back as I was instructed to sign page after page.
The same thing they called my dad.
I choke up a bit.
Everyone starts talking to me at once, trying to pull me in different directions. I catch only bits and pieces because the overlapping voices make my head spin.
“Eric, we’re going to need a few publicity shots before you go,” our PR person advises.
Our manager says close to my ear, “It’s time to let the press in. You ready to do it, EJ?”
“Congratulations.” The president of the label is pumping my hand.
My gaze shifts to the guys, and I don’t like how this is going down. We’re a band; I’m not a solo act. And while getting the VIP treatment as the guys are ignored is nothing new, I don’t want it this way anymore.
We’ve been through a lot.
We’ve made it here as a band.
It’s time for all of us—especially me—to act that way.
I jut my chin at Hugh. “Hey, let’s get out of here.”
Hugh turns to me, looking shocked. “You’re ready to bail? Before the photos and press op?”
I tilt my head toward the door. “Hell yeah. You down for that or what?”
With his gaze he takes a poll of the guys, puts down his drink, and nods to me.
The way he’s looking at me—kind of confused about my wanting to slip out of here—isn’t flattering and brings front and center in my mind what a jerk I’ve been to them the past year on the road. But I want things different now that the pressure’s off and we’re signed.
This week is like a fresh start for me. Fresh start for the band. Fresh start for everything in my life.
I head toward the door against the protests of our manager and the team assigned to launch and oversee the band. As I hustle out of the conference room, past the waiting members of the press and into an elevator, I can hear the guys trailing me.
Linc slips in right before the doors close, and we all bust up laughing, hugging each other and letting our emotion flow uncool and real. No one’s watching. Showing our excitement doesn’t matter now.
“We’re a fucking signed band,” Linc exclaims, overwhelmed.
I hold my hands wide. “What’d I tell you? Follow me and I will get you there.”
Hugh turns a finger at me.
Taz gives me a hard shove. “Prick. You’re delusional. You didn’t get us anywhere. You’d have run us into a ditch if Hugh hadn’t been the navigator every step of the way.”
How they’re ribbing me doesn’t offend. It’s how we are, and it feels comfortable, natural, like we’re good again. I chuckle heartily. “Like I’ve been saying, we’re a great team. Think it. Believe it.”
Linc rolls his eyes. “Enough. If you start mouthing clichés you learned in rehab on the greatest fucking day of our lives I may have to punch you. I won’t be held responsible if I hear you say again: See it. Want it. Make it happen.”
“It worked, didn’t it? And I didn’t get either of those from rehab. They’re on my mom’s coffee mugs.”
The rest of the guys all laugh, including Hugh.
“You’ve been mouthing slogans from coffee mugs for the past year? Why does that not surprise me, Eric?” Taz jeers.
We continue to trade barbs into the parking lot.
I take the fob from my pocket. “What do you guys want to do?”
Linc lifts a brow. “There’s only one place for us to go on a day like today. CY?”
I loop my arm around his neck. “You read my mind. The Cockyard sounds great.”
As they pile into the Escalade, Hugh shouts, “See you there?”
“I’ll be right behind you.”
I unlock my Bugatti and drop onto the driver’s seat. As I watch the guys leave the lot, my mood starts to dip. This should be a perfect day, only it’s not, and now that the guys are gone I can feel each piece that’s missing or wrong.
Ethan’s not with me, and in my version of this moment he’s always been there right at my side, like he was when we formed the band two years ago, in the studio when we cut our last LP, and on stage wielding the sticks during the six-week summer leg of the tour.
Not having my brother with me makes the day only half what it should be. Adding to that is a certain black-haired, brown-eyed girl who’s come to mean more to me than I ever expected. I’d have given anything after I signed my contract to look up and see her face smiling at me. To have her here sharing this day with me.
Worse, there’s the dark cloud holed up in my house, even though I asked her to leave. Tara. She’s like trying to coexist with a rattlesnake. Approach her wrong and she’ll kill you with her venom.
Fuck, I got everything I wanted and nothing the way I planned. I punch the ignition, slip on my sunglasses, and squeal tires out of my parking space. Biggest day of my life and it’s nowhere near complete.
I tap the button on the steering wheel and say aloud, “Call Ethan.”
Four rings.
Voice mail.
No surprise.
I clear my throat. “Hey, E. The band signed contracts today. You were missed. I know there’s a lot you want explained by me and apologies you’re due. It’s probably not the time, but I’m heading to The Cockyard with the guys, and I’d be grateful if you showed. Whatever it takes to get us right again, E. I’ll be there if you want to talk. I love you, brother.”
After the beep, I exhale a ragged breath. That felt awful and none of that was even close to what I should have said. But I’ve got to start somewhere and maybe he can hear how sincere I am through all the stupid words that spewed out.
This estrangement has gotta end.
It’s like a festering wound that gets worse each day.
It’s all my fault and I’ll do anything to make it right with my brother again.
“You don’t sound as happy as I thought you would be,” Willow says.
I chuckle, hoping it’ll make my voice more upbeat. “I am happy. Just not completely.”
“Why not completely?”
“Don’t act coy. You know why. You’re not here.”
“I wish I were there.”
“You can be. I can fly you down right now.”
“Eric…” Her words trail off in a groan. “You know I can’t. Don’t do that to me.”
“Too late. You’re already doing what you do to me. I almost couldn’t sign my contract I missed you so much.”
“At night I miss you so much I hurt.” How her voice lowers runs my body and settles in my cock.
“Stop it, Willow. Or I might hop a plane tonight and show up at your door.”
“That’d be fine by me if you did.”
I moan. “That’s it. A guy can take only so much. I’m turning around and heading for LAX.”
“Don’t,” she protests, laughing.
“Why not?”
“Because Sunday’s better.”
I grimace. “Better for who?”
“You. That is if you’re flying up here to spend time with me. My dad gets home tomorrow.”
“That’s great news.”
“Yeah, but it’s always kind of chaotic getting him settled in the first day. Which reminds me—”
“Say no more. The squatter can’t squat at Willow’s this trip.”
“Sorry.” She sounds disappointed.
“Don’t be. I like the thought of getting a nice hotel room somewhere and locking us in until we have to leave.”
“I do, too. How are you going to celebrate tonight?”
“At a club with the band. Nothing exciting. A few brews. Shoot the shit for a while. Then head home early.”
“I don’t believe you. I bet you’re going to a party or so
mething, with all kinds of LA girls trying to rub up against you all night.”
I find her being jealous cute, when from most girls it usually pisses me off. “No party, Willow. The only person on my guest list didn’t RSVP so I cancelled it.”
“That doesn’t sound very nice of her.”
“If she makes it up to me, I’ll forgive her.”
Her throaty laughter pours through the speakers and it’s torture. “What time do you think you’ll get here Sunday?”
I like how excited she sounds.
“As early as I can get there. With everything going on I haven’t had a moment to schedule a flight. But I’ll do it after I get home and text you the details.”
I see The Cockyard sign ahead on the road.
“Willow, I’ve gotta run. I’m at my next stop.”
“OK. Call me tomorrow.”
“Hell no. I’m calling you tonight before I go to sleep. Talk to you later, love.”
I hang up the call and pull into the lot. Fuck. It’s packed. There isn’t a vacant spot. I park my car in the red zone in front of the club.
I’m not sure what’s up with it being so crowded. Even though The Cockyard is the most exclusive rocker haunt in Hollywood—one of those private members-only-club, want-to-be-seen-here places—it’s never packed like this early on a Friday evening.
Without the gold sign in front, staring at the building you couldn’t tell what the hell this place is. A century ago the brick structure had been a feed warehouse. Age-worn tracks from a rail line no longer in use cut the walkway in two.
I pull back the heavy wood door and plaster on a smile as I enter the establishment. I’m a known commodity here; my dad’s a member which is why I can come here. Only the greatest rockers ever to take the stage are invited to join the prestigious ranks of The Cockyard’s key holders.
The space is dimly lit, and I have to take off my sunglasses to see anything. I make a fast scan of the room. The dark wood walls feel like they’re pulsing from the loud music and voices, nearly every piece of plush red furniture’s taken, and the scantily clad centerfold-sexy waitresses are weaving the room with trays stacked with drinks.
I wonder if the guys put the word out and that’s why it’s so crowded. I recognize a lot of the faces smiling at me. Lots of my peeps wall to wall. But there are so many people, I can’t see my booth.
As I stride into the room, I get shout-outs and pats on the back. More than a few girls run up to hug and kiss me. Walking through the bar is one giant ego stroke today. Maybe by the time I reach the guys my mood will lighten up and I’ll feel like being here.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Eric
I’M FINALLY NEAR ENOUGH to see the guys at my table. The celebration is under way even though I haven’t officially landed on the scene.
They’re drinking and laughing, people hovering bodies’ deep to be near them and more than a few girls vying to get close.
It’s a good feeling seeing them this way and knowing we’re back to where we were before the shit that went down in Seattle. It’s time to make this party a party.
Cupping my mouth, I’m about to shout out something to make them laugh and know I’m here when I hear a voice that runs my spine like a nail.
I swivel toward it.
Fuck!
Every muscle in my body stiffens.
On the other side of the room: Tara and Ethan. They’re standing so close together she might as well be in my brother’s arms. Worse, his face is taut with anger and hers is an expert arrangement of distress and sadness.
She leans in, mutters something to him, which I don’t hear, and Ethan’s jaw tightens.
Dread curls in my digestive tract. Fucking bitch. I told her to stay away from my brother. That I’d handle telling Ethan what’s left to know.
My temper ignites. She’s putting on another of her Academy Award deserving performances. This time for him. No doubt with me as the bad guy.
I’m not sure what she thinks she’s going to get from this, but I know her turning up here has everything to do with tightening the screws on me. It’s too neat a setup. Me, Tara, and Ethan all in the same place. I don’t know how she knew we’d be here, but I’m positive she knew and planned this.
My hands fisted at my side, I hustle toward them. “Get out of here, Tara.” My voice carries, cold and furious, even in the deafeningly loud room. It takes every ounce of self-control I have only to grab her arm and pull her away from Ethan. “Leave my brother alone.”
“Don’t talk to her that way,” Ethan shouts, enraged, eyes glittering in a way I’ve never seen before. He’d have probably lunged at me if Linc hadn’t flown out of the booth and stepped between us.
“Settle down, E,” Linc warns, struggling to hold him back. “You don’t want to do this. Not here.”
“Linc’s right,” I add quickly. “Let’s go outside. We’ll talk. Not here.”
“You’ve got something to say to me, you say it now,” Ethan growls. “Otherwise, you stay away from her. You stay away from me.”
“Her—gladly. I don’t want her here. I don’t want her anywhere I am.”
“How can you say that after all the promises you made me?” Tara wails. “I should have known better than to believe you intended any of it.”
“The things you forced me to say,” I snap in a pointed and dismissive way. “I wish I’d never met you. I don’t know what fantasy you think is about happen, but this crosses the line. We’re done. I want you outta my life. Is that clear enough for you, Tara?”
“You asshole,” Ethan hisses, and I can feel him straining to get at me. The way my brother looks breaks my heart even with my anger toward Tara pumping through my veins. This moment shouldn’t have gone down this way. I didn’t want this.
My thoughts careening out of control, I anxiously run a hand through my hair, trying to think of a way to get ahead of what’s happening. What the fuck did that vicious bitch say to my brother? I’ve never seen him like this.
“Damn it, E. You don’t know the full story. Let’s go somewhere. I’ll explain everything, but not here.”
“What makes you think I’d believe anything you’d tell me, ever?”
He’s shaking with rage.
The expression on his face is gut-ripping.
I deserve that.
But hearing it from Ethan crushes my heart.
“Jesus Christ, we’re brothers. Don’t let a girl like Tara come between us.”
That only amplifies his anger, and it takes both Taz and Linc to hold him back. “Let me go or we’re through as friends.”
“Stop it. Both of you.” Tara plants her hands on my chest. “Please, I don’t want this. I don’t want you fighting because of me. We’re family.”
My harsh laughter echoes through the suddenly near-silent room. “Fuck you. You arranged this.” I shake her off and put a giant space between us.
“Me? That’s not true. How can you blame me?” Tara’s wide-eyed distress doesn’t completely hide how she’s enjoying her latest fuck you to my life.
Disjointed flashes from around the room flare in the darkness. Fucking people and their cell phones, taking pictures and video of this. I’ve got to shut this down now.
My gaze shifts to Tara. “Haven’t you done enough damage to my life? Can you just get the fuck out of here so I can talk to my brother?”
Ethan erupts. “Don’t you blame her for this. Not now. Not ever. She’s through with you. You don’t talk to her. You don’t try to see her. Or me. We’re both through with you.”
She stares up at me, brushing at tears, and something in her gaze turns me to ice. Our eyes lock and I know. She’s gone nuclear on me again, and this time she intends to take Ethan down with me.
Then I realize Ethan doesn’t know everything yet. No way would he have said what he just did if he knew the whole story. She didn’t tell him the worst part, and I’m sure she’s using this
scene with Ethan to tighten the trap on me.
Now that I’ve signed with the label.
Now that I’m everything she wants.
Able to give her a life she won’t ever have with Ethan.
For a moment, I wonder if all along her cozying up to my brother was just a part of her plan to land me. She’s been ten steps ahead of both of us since we were sixteen.
Tara is fucking crazy enough for it to be true. My gaze floats the room in stunned disbelief. “You can’t be this fucking blind, Ethan. Tara played us both. It’s not possible you can’t see what she is. She’s got it all planned out. Even this. She doesn’t give a shit about either of us. She never did.”
Then everything happens so fast I can’t keep up. Tara’s gloating smile poorly concealed behind her crocodile tears. Linc and Taz tumbling to the floor. Ethan springing around Tara, grabbing my shoulder as his fist closes in on my face.
Searing pain shoots upward from my jaw.
My body flies downward.
I crash through something then hit the floor.
Jagged jabs across my body.
Pain explodes from my center.
The air’s knocked out of me.
My head snaps, hitting hard.
Ethan’s above me.
He’s shaking and afraid.
I can’t focus.
The world is a swimming dark hollow of agony.
Then nothing.
“HOW IS HE?”
Ethan’s voice penetrates the darkness.
He sounds frantic. Worried.
What’s happening? Why’s Ethan afraid?
“Please, stand back. He’s stable. We need to get him out of here stat.”
I’m lying on something. It’s moving. There are people on each side of me. I can feel them. I can’t see through the darkness.
Cold air hits my face. Street sounds. Arguing voices in every direction. Am I outside?
“No, don’t arrest him.” A raspy timbre sounds in the distance. My dad. “They’re brothers. I’ve got one son on his way to an emergency room. You’re not taking my other son to jail. Please, let me deal with this as a family.”
“I’m sorry, Dad.” Ethan is anguished and crying. “I don’t know how I could have done this. I didn’t intend to hit Eric. I would never hurt him. The next thing I know he’s going through the glass—”
