Raw Rhythm

by Cari Quinn

  Raw Rhythm

  Found in Oblivion book 6

  Cari Quinn

  Taryn Elliott

  Rainbow Rage Publishing

  eBooks are not transferable.

  They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Raw Rhythm

  © 2017 Cari Quinn & Taryn Elliott

  Rainbow Rage Publishing

  Cover by LateNite Designs

  Photograph by: Sara Eirew

  All Rights Are Reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First ebook edition: November 2017

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  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Author’s Note

  Join our Newsletters

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Finding Forever

  First Rhythm

  LET YOUR VOICE BE HEARD

  MORE Rockers

  Also by Cari & Taryn

  Lost in Oblivion Series

  About the Authors

  Acknowledgments

  We couldn’t have done any of this without our amazing team of people. Thank you so much to Erin, Kim, and Suzanne for taking time out of your busy lives to make sure this book was the best it could be.

  A special thank you to Doctor Jess for your help with Elle’s injury details. Any mistakes were ours.

  And as always, thank you to the fans for wanting Mal and Elle’s story.

  Sometimes we make up fictional places that end up having the same names as actual places. These are our fictional interpretations only. Please grant us leeway if our creative vision isn't true to reality.

  Author’s Note

  Dear Reader,

  After the events in Perfect Pitch, a lot of healing for this band and their families and friends was required (and for us too!) Malachi and Elle’s growing love story mostly took place in New York, because as anyone who has read this series knows, life on a bus with everyone else watching makes it difficult to fall in love. Add in guilt, grief, and a whole host of other emotions and they needed that space to find themselves. But they also need time with their band to heal, as does the band itself. Going out on the road again so soon after a major loss just was not feasible, so the music you’ve come to expect and love in our books wasn’t as much a part of this story.

  But it will be in the next book! Yes, Found in Oblivion is getting a 7th and final book, Finding Forever, which will be our happily-ever-after for the band, as well as introduce you more to Brooklyn Dawn, the band who is the focus of our next rockstar series. You’ve already met some of the players (one of them in Raw Rhythm!) but there are more surprises and familiar faces to come. Even a crossover from yet another one of our worlds.

  So stay tuned. Mal and Elle get the emotional start to their happily-ever-after in Raw Rhythm (there is no cliffhanger, and this is a complete story!) but the ride isn’t quite over yet for them—or the rest of the band. We promise all the healing and happiness you’re hoping for in Finding Forever…including lots of time with Jules and Tristan and their adorable baby!

  Thank you so much for all your love, support, and understanding. We couldn’t do this without you.

  XOXO,

  Cari & Taryn

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  Taryn Quinn – Our short and dirty reads. Anything goes with this pen name—sexy, erotic, sweet, rom com, dark, or paranormal. We like them all!

  Prologue

  “Daddy, help!”

  “No, help me.”

  Nick Crandall glanced down at the two blonds clutching the legs of his jeans, one on each side. He set down the knife he was using to chop a tomato for salad for dinner—though he hated fucking tomatoes, but beta-somesuch in them was good for the girls—and hoisted up both of his twins until they were one to a hip. “You gonna help me make tomorrow’s lunch?”

  They’d all foraged for themselves for dinner tonight, since their mother, Lila, was at the big Warning Sign show in New York City. Some big event to showcase the new EP and new co-lead singer. Last night, Nick had attended the secret show that coincided with the single dropping. “Headlines” sure as hell fit what was going on in that band. New lead singers to go with the old lead singers, band drama, all kinds of leaks. What the hell, man?

  And he’d thought Oblivion had their share of troubles. At least they only had one lead singer.

  One Simon was enough for every-damn-one.

  But Nick was a good brother, so he’d made sure to attend last night’s secret show to support his sister, Ricki—or Elle, as she preferred to be called now. It was a big night for her, and tonight promised to be even bigger. He’d wished he could be there in New York to see her kill it as she’d killed it last night—damn, his sister was no joke on a guitar, and he didn’t say that lightly—but with Lila traveling with the band as their Ripper Records rep, someone needed to be home with the girls. They always tried to make sure one of them was home with the twins at bare minimum. Neither he nor Lila intended to have their kids raised by nannies.

  Even if they were little hellions most of the time.

  After a long moment of thought, Charlie nodded vigorously, her peanut butter smeared cheeks spreading in a smile. She’d been into the sandwich cookies again. “Matos.” She pointed at the discarded husk of what used to be a tomato. Maybe. Now it was just a pulpy-looking mass. He sucked at cutting the stupid things.

  “Yes, tomatoes,” Nick said, repeating the correct word slowly as Lila had taught him to do. He glanced at his other daughter, currently shoving three fingers in her mouth. “Tomatoes?” he asked her, but she only shook her head, her big honey-brown eyes wide.

  Eyes so like his own they were spooky.

  “Avery, say matos,” Charlie commanded her sister.

  Avery sucked on her fingers, the non-verbal equivalent of telling her twin to fuck off.

  Nick had to grin. So much for kids not having distinct personalities until a certain age. His two had distinguished themselves while they were still in the womb, according to Lila.

  And he couldn’t stop thinking about her, and it was getting ridiculous. She was gone for one night.

  One stupid night, and she’d been gone for plenty before. Tonight, she was even with his sister. He always felt better when Lila was traveling for Warning Sign shows for some reason. They were the next best thing to her c
oming with them for Oblivion shows.

  So much of their family and extended family was in Warning Sign. Not only his sister, but Lila’s two former stepsons, Malachi and Michael. Jules was Margo’s sister, and since Margo was Lila’s best friend, another connection there. Not to mention the Simon angle, considering Margo was married to that giant dickhead Simon.

  Simon, who hadn’t returned his calls for three days. Off modeling again. Fucker.

  Then there was Molly, who was Jazz’s sister, and Randy, who was part of the lighting crew and was Harper’s younger brother. So many connections.

  So many people to watch out for Lila. Who loved her.

  Nick frowned and juggled his girls on his hips. Whoa, where had that come from? He wasn’t some Nervous Nellie with his wife when she traveled. It was part of her job. This trip was even shorter than most.

  Yet he couldn’t shake the cold fingers of dread wrapping around the back of his neck and squeezing. So much so that he had to set down the twins in case he dropped them.

  His fucking arms were shaking. The nerves inside dancing like they were lined with electricity.

  “Daddy?” Charlie asked, patting his leg as high as she could reach.

  “Go watch TV,” he managed. “Take care of your sister. I’ll be in soon.”

  Charlie normally argued. About everything. She was only two-and-a-half after all. Just a baby.

  But for once, she grabbed hold of her sister’s free hand and dragged her with her down the hall to the living room, already issuing more orders.

  “Paw Patrol. Not Care Bears.”

  Avery mumbled around her fingers.

  If Nick knew his girls, the TV would be on Care Bears in no time. Eventually, Avery would start sobbing and Charlie would give in and change it.

  Softie.

  Nick picked up another tomato and the knife, firming his hold on it when his fingers spasmed. What the hell was going on? Was he sick?

  Again, his thoughts circled around to Lila. Lila at the show. His throat tightened, closing until he couldn’t breathe. His vision narrowed, tunneling until he couldn’t see the tomato he’d massacred.

  Not Lila. It was Ricki.

  Dear God, it was his sister.

  They had this twin thing that kicked in sometimes. When their father died, Nick had known the instant it happened because Ricki had been at their dad’s side. When she was in pain, Nick knew.

  He fucking knew, and it was as if his own guts were being shredded from the pain.

  Doubled over, he struggled to remain standing. The knife bounced out of his hand, hitting the floor with a metallic slap. He gripped the edge of the counter, using it to support his weight as he fumbled his phone out of his pocket. He pressed the speed dial for Donovan, Lila’s boss and the owner of Ripper Records.

  He didn’t wait for Donovan to speak.

  “The show,” Nick forced out. “My sister. Something’s happened at the show.”

  Chapter One

  She was so still. Like a statue or a doll. Her sunshine hair crusted with blood, her sleeve torn. He’d ripped the material to see the extent of the wound that was causing all the blood.

  So much freaking blood, some of it on him. It wasn’t his. At least he didn’t think so. Didn’t matter right now. He was on his feet and moving. Still breathing.

  Still alive.

  Mal didn’t even know what had happened for sure. There had been so much noise and confusion. The screams, the rending metal. Then the sparks as the beam overhead came down…

  He hadn’t thought. Hadn’t processed. There had been no time for choice. She was in the path of that fucking beam.

  Except she wasn’t alone.

  So he had made a choice, but not consciously. It wasn’t a matter of picking her but being incapable of even registering anyone else when she was in danger. From the first goddamned time he laid eyes on her, that had been his reality. Nothing had changed.

  Especially not his single-minded focus on Richelle Crandall.

  Ricki.

  Elle.

  Now she was so quiet, so unnaturally still, her lips motionless, her eyes closed. No color in her cheeks.

  Almost as if she was dead.

  He watched her be wheeled away to the waiting ambulance and pushed aside the restraining arms that tried to keep him back. “She’s my aunt,” he said without thinking. “I have to go with her.”

  The EMT who’d just tried to force him back stopped long enough to raise an eyebrow. “That young girl is your aunt? Oh really.”

  Mal never wavered. “Yes.”

  The saddest thing was it wasn’t exactly untrue. They weren’t related in the strictest sense, but Lila had been his stepmother for years and Lila was Ricki’s sister-in-law. So what if she was a couple years younger than him? If one stretched the boundaries of their fucked-up family relationship, it was sterling truth.

  And made his ridiculous obsession with her even more insane. Not that she would ever know.

  “I’m going,” Mal said.

  The EMT hesitated. He clearly didn’t believe him, but Mal would’ve been willing to lay out his messy as hell family tree for this dude if it allowed him to go with her in that ambulance. She couldn’t be alone. Not now.

  “All right, fine. Whatever.” The guy moved back and Mal jumped in back of the ambulance with Ricki. The others were…fuck, he didn’t know where the others were. If the others needed an ambulance or worse. He hadn’t had time to check on everyone. His brother was okay. That was all he had time to see before Ricki had consumed his attention.

  As freaking usual. At least this time it was for a reason other than simply existing.

  He crouched down beside her in the back and gripped her hand. For this moment, only one EMT was focused on her, the others occupied with the chaos inside. She wasn’t critical. Even without knowing the extent of her injuries, he knew that much. Her wound might be worse than it seemed, but she wasn’t going to die. Her heartbeat under his fingers had been steady and strong, her breathing even.

  She was a fighter, and he’d been there in time. Not fast enough to prevent her from being injured entirely, but it hadn’t been a fatal blow.

  “You’re probably not going to remember this,” he said, speaking close to her ear. He knew the bustling EMT could probably hear him, and he hated that. These words weren’t for anyone but her. Would never even be hers while she was conscious. But now, in this space where she wasn’t fully with him, he could speak freely. It wouldn’t matter later.

  Just as it hadn’t before.

  “But you’re not getting a free pass to sleep. You’re going to be fine. You have to be. Too many people need you.”

  I need you.

  He didn’t say the last bit aloud. At least he hoped he didn’t. Who even knew anymore?

  He shut his eyes to block out the curious stare from the EMT as she worked to check Ricki’s vitals. He hoped like hell she wasn’t a fan. There were professional agreements not to disclose information gleaned in situations like this, but he trusted no one. From his past, he couldn’t. Not even those tasked to help.

  Anyone could be bought and paid for. Even him.

  “You don’t have to worry. You’re going to be okay. You’ll get through this just fine.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. She wore a lot of rings. Cheap ones with gaudy stones and silver that probably rubbed off.

  No one would guess she had money now, a lot of it. She lived as if she was still struggling to get by. She drove a shitbox car, probably lived in a rundown apartment. No one could get her to upgrade her standard of living. The girls tried now and then, making jokes and chiding her to buy a new car in particular after it broke down without warning on the side of the road. She defended her crappy piece of shit and laughed them off. She was fine.

  Just as she was fine with the asshole men who paraded in and out of her life. Staying just long enough to mooch off her and break her heart. It was too goddamned fragile. Too easily wounded.

  She
was still bleeding, staining the makeshift bandage the EMT had applied.

  He swallowed. Fuck. He couldn’t do this. She was screwed if he was the guy who was meant to be by her side.

  And he wasn’t. He was just a temporary stand-in because there was no one else. The others all had someone in their lives. Someone to love, and who loved them. His brother’s wife was home in California, but still, Michael would be with his true brother—West, his best friend. Sharing DNA with Mal had just been an accident of birth.

  Ricki wasn’t the same as he was. People loved her. She was so open and honest and caring that she attracted friends easily. And men. They fucking swarmed around her, all wanting to stand in her light for as long as she’d gift them with her glow.

  He was the exact opposite. He was darkness and humor at others’ expense and isolation. By choice. All by choice.

  She was looking for love anywhere she could find it. He didn’t know how to love anymore. But right now, he was the one with her. And that was by choice too.

  “You’re going to wake up and you’re going to feel guilty. But don’t. Don’t.” His voice rasped out of his chest, rough and deep. Jagged at the edges.