“I’m sorry, Murphy.”
“For what? How were any of you supposed to know he’d do that?”
“Still, after knowing that he’s come after you before, we should have… I should have kept a closer eye on you.”
“Jared, stop. I don’t blame anyone, except Ed. He’s a sick person.”
“We shouldn’t have left you alone.”
“And none of you did. Lars walked me to the bus. I left the bus. I did that, Jared. I left the bus to make sure everything was loaded, and then I made the mistake of going to look for everyone.” She pulled a deep breath in from her nose and released it on a jagged sigh. “And I was the one who wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking. I walked right by his bus. That’s when he made his move. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.”
Hearing Murphy blame herself pissed me off. “The last time I checked, walking by someone doesn’t give them the right to attack you.”
“No, it doesn’t. But that’s what happens sometimes, Jared. It’s up to the ones it happens to, to decide if they’ll allow themselves to be a victim or a fighter. I chose to fight. And I did. I fought him with everything I had until Lars pulled him off me.”
I let my head fall against the back of the couch, closing my eyes briefly. “We should have called the cops. At least then we could have made sure he was arrested.” Witnessing Ed being cuffed and stuffed in the backseat of a police cruiser would have at least given her some closure.
She lifted her shoulder in a half shrug. “I’m kinda glad Oliver didn’t call the cops and that it’s being taken care of the way it is. Guys like Ed? They never learn. They get away with it over, and over again. Countless women either put themselves in those situations, or it happens against their will. Either way, it’s wrong and I’m glad he, at least, is one less predator on the loose.”
I opened my eyes, rolling my head to the side to look at her. “From here on out, one of us will stay with you.”
She scooted closer and curled up against me, laying her head on my shoulder. “I know you will.”
THE RIDE TO CHICAGO LEFT me restless. Even Stella couldn’t hold my interest for too long.
I’d drifted in and out, in between Murphy’s whimpers and sometimes thrashing. When I’d get her calm again, I tried to doze. Sometime, well after midnight, I caught her hand when it flew out, lacing my fingers with hers. It settled her for longer stretches and, when the dreams started up again, I’d rub my thumb along the inside of her palm until she quieted.
Oliver walked through the bus, rousing everyone from their bunks. I sat up, slipped my fingers from hers, and stretched.
He leaned in from the hallway, skipping his eyes over to Murphy, and then spoke low enough as to not wake her, “Grab some clothes and whatever else you’ll need, and I’ll have everyone’s bags brought to our room.”
Murphy’s eyes snapped open at the sound of his voice. She sat up, pulling the comforter with her, and yawned.
“Morning,” Oliver said.
She grumbled something that sort of sounded like a reply back to him, pushing herself off the couch. Oliver moved out of the way to let her pass. When the bathroom door closed behind her, he walked over to sit on the couch beside me. “How’d she do last night?”
I scrubbed my hands over my face and shook with the force of my yawn.
Oliver chuckled. “That good, huh?”
My eyes watered, making everything blurry. I hoped wherever we were, there was a bed for me to fall into. At that point, I wasn’t sure there was enough coffee in the world to keep me awake. “Where are we?”
“Chicago.”
I pulled one hand away from my face and gave him the finger as Murphy walked back in and sat down. “There’s so much to do, and I don’t have it in me right now to do it,” she said with a huff, falling back against the cushions.
“We still have a few hours before the concert. Enough time to rest up and get something to eat before these guys are scheduled to practice,” Oliver said, pushing himself up from the couch.
Murphy glared at him. “How do you know what their schedule is for today?”
He tapped his finger against his chest with a smirk. “It’s my business to know these things.”
Murphy’s glare turned into a scowl. “Yeah, well, we need to get a luggage cart and get the guys to put their clothes together since we won’t make it back to the bus before the show. Jeff will need to move the bus over a few hours before to get unloaded, and…”
Oliver waved his hand. “Already taken care of.”
Her mouth opened and closed a few times as if she struggled to comprehend what he’d said. “It is?”
Oliver nodded sharply. “Yes, it is. So now all you have to do is get your stuff together and get off the bus with the rest of us.”
When Oliver went to walk out, Murphy shot off the couch. “Wait! Did you call the hotel to make sure our rooms are ready?”
He winked at her and walked out without answering. She turned to me, mouth gaping, when Oliver raised his voice so everyone could hear him. “Get a move on. We’re burning daylight!”
Murphy looked up at the darkened skylight and dropped back down to the couch. “Daylight, my ass,” she muttered.
Retro rolled out of bed, stumbled to the living room, and sprawled on the floor. “It’s too damn early for this,” he mumbled against the carpet.
Licks walked in and handed a cup over to Murphy. My stomached growled when the scent of freshly brewed coffee hit my nose.
“Where’s mine?” I asked, rubbing my hand to quiet my stomach.
Licks jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “In the pot. Get it yourself.”
Getting up from the couch, I stepped over Retro and punched Licks in the arm. I followed it up by calling him an asshole before I felt better.
The sound of his laughter chased me down the hallway as he said, “Somebody’s not a morning person.”
I made my coffee and leaned against the counter, drinking it while Lars took up the entire hallway to pack his bag. He was done before I finished my first cup. He walked into the kitchen, dumped his bag on the small couch, and fished an energy drink out of the fridge as something vibrated on the dinette table.
We both turned at the noise. Murphy’s cell phone. I walked over and picked it up, seeing Woody’s name flash across the screen. I silenced it, slipping it into my back pocket. Lars cracked open the can in his hand and walked to the back of the bus. Murphy’s phone rang again. It was too early to deal with Woody. Hell, it was too damn early to deal with anything other than waking up and packing.
I pulled it out of my pocket to silence it again.
“I thought I heard my phone,” Murphy said, plucking it out of my hands. When she saw who was calling her, she groaned, took a deep breath, and then answered.
There was no mistaking that Woody was pissed. None at all. I could hear him cursing her out from where I stood a few feet away. I clutched the coffee cup in both hands to keep from snatching the phone back from her.
Murphy tried a couple of times to talk over him, but she finally gave up and pulled the phone away from her ear until the line quieted. “Are you done now?”
Woody fired off again.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. The account was fine when I used it the other day. I’ll check it and get back with you.”
I have no idea if he heard her or not, because he never stopped talking even when she spoke.
“…and another thing!” I didn’t think it was possible for Woody to get any louder, but he did. “You better drop whatever charges you have on Ed. Yeah, I heard all about that from his manager. He’s threatening to sue me. If he’s not released from whoever the fuck has him, I swear to God, I’ll fucking choke you out myself!”
Lars gestured for the phone. When she handed it over to him, he put Woody on speakerphone. “Woody, it’s Lars…”
Woody’s voice crackled out of the speaker, cutting him off. “You better not have bee
n the one who started all this shit and had Ed locked up.”
Lars growled at the phone. “Ed was a ticking time-bomb who attacked Murphy. Or do you even care?”
“Care? Murphy probably put herself in that position! And I have news for you. If you don’t drop whatever charges you have on Ed, I’ll toss all of you fuckers to the curb and find real talent!”
“Real talent?” Retro snatched the phone from Lars, screaming into the mouthpiece. “How ’bout this… I fucking quit!”
“You can’t quit! You’re under contract!” Woody hollered back.
Licks leaned over Retro’s shoulder and shouted, “I quit too. You’re an asshole, and I hope you never work with another band again.”
“That’s two, Woody. What’s your game plan now? Because I refuse to play without Retro and Licks,” Lars said, sneering at the phone.
“Who fuckin’ needs you guys anyway? I sure as shit don’t need a bunch of punk-ass bitches working for me! Murphy, get your ass on a plane right fucking now!”
She laughed, crossed her arms, and squinted at the phone as if she could see Woody through the speaker. “Fuck off. I’m done with you too.”
Retro slammed his finger on the end button and tossed it to Murphy. She powered it down before Woody could call back.
“Well, that was interesting,” Oliver said as he looked between Lars, Retro, and Licks. “What about tonight’s show?”
Lars opened the fridge and pulled out another energy drink. “Oh, we’re still doing it. But we’re doing it our way. We’re ending this with the best damn performance we’ve had to date, so you guys better get ready to rock the shit outta that stage.”
Retro turned to Murphy. “Can we still play tonight?”
Murphy smirked. “I don’t see why not. Woody has no idea who to call to stop it.”
Retro put his fist out. Murphy bumped hers against it.
When Retro walked away, Licks heaved a sigh. “What comes next, Murph?”
She shrugged. “Something better.”
He waited a beat and then asked, “You’ll stay with us, right?”
She gave him a toothy smile. “Just try to get rid of me. Besides, I’m your manager.”
He laughed, grabbing her in a hug. “More of a manager than Woody ever was.”
When Licks set her down, he walked off, shouting to Retro and Lars. “We are free!”
“We’re gonna have to get this bus emptied today. I don’t want Woody pulling a fast one and reporting it stolen,” Murphy said, tossing her phone on the counter.
A swift knock rattled the bus door. Jeff shot out of the driver’s seat. He’d sat there in silence, witnessing the madness of the entire band ending their careers, or so he thought. Maybe he’d stick around and drive us when we got a new bus. Or maybe he’d bolt the first chance he got.
Oliver walked over and pushed the button, releasing the door, and disappeared down the stairs. He spoke in a few short sentences to whomever it was that lurked in the darkness, and was back on the bus a minute later. “I have some boxes coming, pack what you can now, and we’ll move it to the room.”
Murphy put her hand up, “Wait a minute. What room are you referring to? There’s no way we can pay for a hotel now, Woody said the account was frozen.”
“I’m afraid that was my doing.” I knew that voice.
When he made his way up the stairs, I shook my head in disbelief. “Dad? What the hell are you doing here?”
His mouth curved at one corner. “Good to see you too, son.”
Murphy moved over to stand beside me. “Excuse me, sir, but I still don’t understand. Why did you freeze his account?”
Ignoring her question, my dad reached out and shook Murphy’s hand. “You must be Skylar Murphy. I’m Grant Jackson, Jared’s father.”
Skylar? Her name was Skylar? I wasn’t sure why it came as a shock to me.
Lars slapped a hand to my back, unsteadying me. “What’s wrong, Jared? You seem a little shocked. You shouldn’t be, shocked, that is. I mean, really, if you put it all together, it’s a no brainer. We’ve all been living by Murphy’s Law. It’s only fitting, right?”
Murphy’s Law. God, they were as smart-assed as I was. I looked up in time to see Murphy give Lars the middle finger.
During the lull in the conversation, my dad took the opportunity to introduce himself to everyone. By the time he was done, they were all joking. Joking with my dad. On a bus. In Chicago.
“…your stuff. I’ll send someone down to pack up the rest.” I hadn’t heard a word he said before that. When the others filed off the bus behind Oliver, I made my way to the back and shoved my clothes in a bag. Murphy and my dad had stayed behind. He watched my every move until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Care to explain all of this?” I asked, shoving my shirts into my bag, not bothering to fold them.
My dad crossed his arms and leaned against the corner of the doorway closest to the kitchen. Murphy moved behind me, pulling her bags out of the cabinets. I saw her tilt her head to listen for his reply.
“The less you know, the better. Unfortunately, this particular situation falls into something of a gray area.”
I slammed the closet closed. As always, my father was trying his best to get around explaining himself. “Don’t bullshit me, Dad. I’m not some fourteen-year-old you can lie to anymore. I want some answers. Real answers.”
“Jared, all you need to know is that the situation is contained. The outcome wasn’t quite what I’d predicted it would be, but it happens sometimes.”
“Do you even hear yourself?” I zipped my bag up and let it fall to the floor. My dad picked it up and put the strap over his shoulder.
“I’m under strict orders not to speak of it, Jared. I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but that’s the way it is.”
He turned to walk away. “That’s just great, Dad. You’ve done this shit my whole life and now… now that something was important to me…” I took a deep breath, feeling the need to shout at my father outweighing my ability to speak. Air hissed through my teeth when I exhaled. I clenched my hands, trying to keep my anger in check. “This was important and somehow, you managed to take it all away in one swoop. Why?”
He flinched. “That wasn’t our intent. Please believe that.”
I turned my back on him, and he walked off the bus without another word.
Murphy’s hands lifted and then fell as she looked at me. It seemed like she had no idea what to say.
Anger, hot and molten like a volcano ready to spew, rolled through me.
There was no way I could talk to Murphy. Not with the way I felt. So I walked past her, grabbed both my guitars, and brought them to the front of the bus, working my way through my anger. There was no way my dad could be that heartless. He and my mom… they were always trying to do anything and everything for me. Most times, they went out of their way to make me happy. I picked away at everything that had happened over the last few weeks, starting with Oliver. There was no reason to hire a bodyguard, so why do it? Protection. But protection from what? Oliver never really came out and said it. My parents didn’t either. Then there was the shit that had happened with Ed. They’d been called about it instead of the cops. Oliver’s excuse was that they had connections. That made no sense at all, so I moved on to the moment my dad stepped on the bus and admitted he was the one who froze Woody’s bank account. A conversation I’d had with Riley at the cabin before I left replayed in my thoughts. She’d asked me if my parents were spies. I’d laughed about it then. Maybe she’d been right. People didn’t normally run around playing with other people’s lives like a living chessboard, but my parents had. In fact, it felt like I was one of their biggest pawns.
Lars, Retro, and Licks returned to the bus with a flat stack of cardboard each and tape guns. Lars opened the cabinet above the dinette and pulled out an old coffee can. Wrapping his arm around it, he pulled the lid off and tilted it forward for everyone to see. “This is it. Thi
s is what we’ve been working towards for a long time.”
Licks leaned over and inhaled deeply. “Smells like freedom.”
Retro shoved him out of the way and took a sniff. “I think something’s wrong with your damn nose. It smells like stale coffee and sweat,” he said, waving his hand in front of his face.
Lars put the cover back on and rolled his eyes. “We need a safe place to keep this until we can get it into a bank.”
“I vote we give it to Murphy for safekeeping,” Licks said.
“Me too. Murphy’s our manager. She should be in charge of the money,” Retro agreed.
“What about you, Jared? Are you cool with Murphy handling the money?” Lars asked.
“I’m cool with it,” I answered. “Listen, I… I want to apologize for shit going down the way it has…”
Lars handed Murphy the coffee can and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Jared, shit happens. Were we ready for it to happen so fast? No, but it did, which means it was meant to be this way. Okay?”
He shook my shoulder when I nodded, and then dropped his hand. “Now, let’s get this bus packed and get the hell off it.”
OLIVER SHOWED UP WHEN WE were almost finished packing and moved the boxes to the back of a flatbed pickup parked alongside the bus. The guys hopped up on the back of the truck and waved for Murphy and me to join them. She waved them off, telling them she wanted to do one last walk through of the bus. I stayed behind to walk with her.
Leaving Murphy on the bus, I stepped out into the early morning air. There was a chill to it, a sort of crispness that I’d never felt before in the south. I shivered, enjoying every burst that slapped at me, waking me up. It was a cold slap of reality, but one I truly enjoyed. The quiet helped my thoughts settle, but it did nothing to ease the feeling that what had happened was only the beginning of something bigger. It sat heavy on me, like that feeling that something bad will happen and you can’t shake it. At least I was over being pissed. Lars was right, even if it hadn’t been the way they’d wanted it to go, it had happened for a reason. There was nothing to be done about it but to move on.
End Note Page 15
