The Russos 12

by D. J. Manly

  Published by Mojocastle Press, LLC

  Price, Utah

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  The Russos: Episode Twelve

  ISBN: 1-60180-090-8

  Copyright @ 2008 D. J. Manly

  Cover Art Copyright @ 2008 April Martinez

  All rights reserved.

  Excluding legitimate review sites and review publications, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Copying, scanning, uploading, selling and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without permission from the publisher is illegal, punishable by law and will be prosecuted.

  Available online at:

  http://www.mojocastle.com/

  Also By D.J. Manly:

  Connor's Storm

  Melting Ice

  Melting Ice 2

  The Russos: Digital Soap

  Dedication:

  To my readers.

  The Russos:

  Episode Twelve

  D. J. Manly

  Previously on The Russos...

  Johnny is dying, and Drake is forced to perform without him. Tony performs with the band for the first time on stage. Angelo reluctantly leaves his family to finish his contract with Concord Music.

  Tony and Drake comfort each other over Johnny.

  Angelo finishes his contract with Concord Music and comes home, having made some decisions about his relationship with Tony. Tony is afraid to go on the road with the band.

  And Now...Episode Twelve of The Russos

  When Mike went to pour Angelo some more wine, he placed his hand over the glass. "I've had enough. I have to drive home."

  "Stay here tonight," Mike said with a shrug. "You can sleep on the sofa."

  "No way," he said, laughing.

  "Well, maybe you're not used to being asked to sleep over on some guy's sofa, but I'm afraid that's all I can do for you," Mike teased. "You know I love you, but I'm not sucking your cock."

  Angelo grinned, lying back on the sofa. "Damn, well, it's your loss, buddy."

  Mike laughed. "So, have another. I bought this crap for you anyway."

  Angelo motioned with his hand and Mike filled the glass with Merlot, his favourite red wine.

  "So any thoughts on whom we want in this band?"

  Mike reached for the bag of chips on the coffee table and sat back in the Lay-Z-Boy, munching.

  "I've been thinking about all the guys we've played with. I wonder if Chester Dobson is still around."

  "Dobson. Um. Shit. I haven't thought about him in a while. He was one hell of a guitar player. Played bass, right?"

  "Yeah."

  "Like him," Mike said. "Let's look him up. And I was also thinking about Anne Stewart. Do you remember her? She used to play keyboards with that group...ah...the...Sparrows?"

  "The Spangles?"

  "Yeah, that was it. Shut up. Okay, so, any objection to having a female in the band?"

  "None whatsoever. She hit on me once."

  "Poor girl. Must have been really disappointed."

  "Ha, ha. All I care is, she meshes with the band. Okay, so, what if Chester and Anne aren't available?"

  "There's Dell, what's his name."

  "He was heavy into acid when I last saw him. Maybe he's cleaned up his act, but..."

  "I'll call Frankie. He knows him. He used to room with him. Want chips? These things are addictive."

  Angelo shook his head. "Too salty. Got to pee." He stood up and headed for the bathroom.

  Tony had only been gone ten hours and he was missing him like crazy. The last few weeks had been sensational. They'd stayed together at the old house, watched movies, made love, and cooked great food.

  He knew he'd only be gone a few weeks, but already time was dragging. He was happy he had a lot of work to do getting this band together.

  When he got back to the living room, his cell phone rang. He wrestled to get it out of his pocket.

  Mike laughed. "Must be your honey...boy, someone's in love!"

  Angelo stuck out his tongue at him and answered the phone.

  "Hey," a familiar voice said.

  "Tony." He walked out of the room. "How's the hotel?"

  "Room is empty, bed is too."

  "It better be."

  Tony laughed.

  "So, you're in Chicago, right?"

  "Yeah."

  "Are you going to get the chance to see any of it?"

  "I doubt it. Tomorrow is a full day, press conference, photo shoot. Drake is insisting on studio time before the show. I'll be up at dawn."

  "Poor baby."

  "I miss you."

  "Me too. It's only six weeks."

  "An eternity. How's Mike?"

  "Stuffing himself with chips right now."

  Tony laughed. "Made any headway?"

  "We're talking."

  "Well, I guess I'll try and get some sleep."

  "Good idea. Break a leg tomorrow night."

  "Thanks. Angelo?"

  "Yes?"

  "I...nothing. It's nothing. I'll call you when I can."

  "Sweet dreams. I love you."

  There was silence.

  "Tony?"

  "I heard you. I love you back." He hung up.

  Drake wasn't very happy with their performance in Chicago. It was written all over his face when he left the stage. Mac, Pepi and Tony trailed behind him down the corridor, past the rooms and offices, no one saying a word.

  "They're waiting for us to go back out there," Mac said, tossing his drumsticks on one of the leather sofas.

  "What in hell was that?" Drake demanded, looking at Tony.

  Tony froze. "Was it...it me?"

  "Yes, goddamn it. It was you," Drake snapped.

  Mac winced. "Guess that means we're not going back out," he muttered.

  "Cut the kid a break," Pepi interjected, sitting on the sofa and absently picking up one of Mac's drumsticks. "He wasn't that bad. He made a few mistakes, but the audience didn't pick up on it."

  "No, but I did," Drake sighed, pacing. "I picked up on it." He pointed at him. "You weren't there at all. Where in the hell were you?"

  "I...there were a lot of people," Tony mumbled.

  "It wasn't your first time," Drake said.

  "Did you ever think that maybe I'm not up to all this?" Tony complained. "Maybe I'm not ready! You guys have been doing this your entire life. I only have a crummy music degree."

  "You're Johnny's son," Drake said.

  "Yes, but I'm not Johnny," he said, meeting his eyes. "That's what you want."

  Drake turned his back.

  "Let's, ah..." Mac began.

  "We need to go back out now if we're going," Pepi said, looking at Drake for confirmation.

  Drake nodded.

  They returned to the stage, did two numbers, took their bows, and left.

  Tony felt like shit.

  "Don't let it get you down." His uncle came over to him. "Drake is in one of his moods. You should see the shit he gave me in the first few years I was in the band. He's a perfectionist. He hears every off beat. And it's true. He's missing Johnny out there. We all are."

  Tony nodded. "Thanks."

  "He'll come around," Pepi said. "Now, I'm starved. Let's get back to the hotel and order pizza or something."

  * * * * * *

  The hotel suite was filled with people. Tony avoided Drake. He was just more than a little miffed at him, hurt even. He tried to find a secluded place so that he could call Angelo. He knew he'd feel better if he could hear his voice.r />
  Finally, he found an empty bedroom. He walked in, closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed. He didn't turn on the light. He opened his phone and pressed the speed dial. He got Angelo's voice message. He wasn't answering.

  Tony checked the digital alarm clock on the night table. No wonder. It was almost four in the morning.

  He sighed and lay back on the bed. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the low beat of the music thumping just outside the door.

  He was exhausted and they'd only done one show, a show that Drake was really displeased with.

  "There you are," a deep voice said suddenly, causing Tony to bolt upright.

  Light streamed in through the door for a second then disappeared as Drake switched on one of the lamps and closed the door behind him.

  "I was trying to call Angelo."

  "At four in the morning?"

  "I didn't realise that it was..."

  "Look," Drake said, walking over to the bed, "I want to apologise to you."

  Tony entwined his fingers. He was more than aware that they were alone together and in a bedroom. "Ah...you...you don't have to," he breathed. He would have stood up, but Drake was standing right in front of him, his leg brushing Tony's knee.

  "Yes, I do. Pepi made me realise that I was being hard on you for nothing. You held your own out there." He sighed. "I do think we need to take on another guitarist. No offence, but some of the parts are really challenging. You lack the confidence, not the talent. The confidence will come with time, Tony, but in the meantime..."

  "I agree," he said. "I'm not insulted. I'll just go home, and---"

  "No," Drake laughed. "That's not what I meant. I meant, we'd take on an additional guitarist."

  "Have three?"

  "Why not? A lot of rock bands have three. I think it would make the band better. I'd have more artistic freedom. I could play the guitar parts I wanted and just handle the vocals for some tunes. What do you think?"

  "Do you...have...someone in mind?"

  "I'd love it to be Angelo, you know that, but it's not going to happen. He's trying to develop his own style and I have to respect that."

  Tony nodded. God, all his problems would be solved if Angelo would just agree to come on the road with them. He lowered his head.

  Drake reached down and lifted Tony's chin with one finger. He looked down at him.

  Tony's heart pounded in his chest.

  "You seemed so ready to leave the band. Isn't this what you want, Tony?"

  "I want...I want..."

  "What? What do you want?"

  Something changed in Drake's voice. Whether real or imagined, Tony sensed a deeper meaning to those words. His mouth went dry, and his cock reacted without asking permission. He stood up and grabbed onto Drake's long dark hair. He dragged his mouth to his, pulling on the front of his shirt.

  "Tony," Drake protested, pushing him backwards.

  Tony bounced down on the bed. He met Drake's startled gaze. "Don't," Tony shook his head, "don't pretend you don't feel it."

  Drake backed up. "I came in here to apologise, Tony. I had no ulterior motive. You and Angelo have a chance to make it. Why are you trying so hard to ruin it?"

  "I'm not trying..."

  "You are. You're afraid."

  Tony laughed harshly, sitting up. "Afraid? Afraid of what?"

  "I think you're afraid of how deeply in love with him you are."

  Tony blinked. "Don't be...that's stupid. I'm not..."

  "You're afraid to lose Angelo, like I lost your father. You couldn't bear the pain. You saw mine, and..." He turned away.

  Tony stood up. "Why are you turning this into something it's not? We're here alone in this room. I'm fully aware of what your mouth and your hands and your cock can do. I want to..." He put his hand on Drake's shoulder.

  Drake shoved it away and turned around. "If you want to throw it away, go ahead. I won't help you. I love my son. I won't lose him."

  "It's a little late for that. It's not like we haven't already---"

  "I told you it wouldn't happen again, Tony." He met his gaze. "And I meant it."

  Tony watched him cross the floor to the door, rearrange his shirt. "I just wanted to let you know we're auditioning a few guitarists next Monday in studio. I'd like you to be there. The band would appreciate your input."

  "I'll be there."

  Drake left the room.

  Angelo buttoned up his little sister's raincoat while he waited for his mother to go through the cash.

  Shopping with a three-year-old was exhausting, not to mention his mother, who lost all sense of time when she was in a store.

  "There," she said finally, coming towards her children in the mall, loaded down with bags. "I think that's it."

  Angelo took her bags and grinned. "Are you sure?"

  She punched him and took Abbey's hand. "Shut up."

  "Shut up," Abbey said, jumping up and down, "shut up...shut..."

  "You're teaching her all your bad habits," Angelo teased. "She'll be smoking cigarettes next."

  "I don't smoke anymore," she muttered, shushing Abbey. "Let's eat. I'm starved."

  "You're buying."

  "Okay."

  "It's still raining," Angelo said. "Want me to bring the car around?"

  "Can you find it?"

  He smirked. "Yes, Mother."

  "Go with Angie," Abbey sang out.

  "No, stay with Mommie," Janet said, waving her son away. "We'll wait in the entrance over there."

  Angelo sprinted to the door and went in search of the car. Three weeks without Tony was getting long now even if he did call him almost every day. The weather was unusually rainy for Los Angeles and that did nothing to improve his mood.

  He and Mike had taken Chester and Anne into the band, and every day they hammered out music in their rented studio. It was coming along, but nowhere near where Angelo could see them performing in public yet. He was feeling restless, missing the adrenalin rush of the crowd.

  He knew he had to be patient. Last night he'd told everyone to take a day off. They'd all been working hard, and Angelo thought maybe it would be good to take a break. He'd phoned his mother and suggested they go shopping. They'd left at nine and it was after six now. It had been a long day. Still, he'd enjoyed spending time with Abbey and his mother, something he knew he should make more time to do.

  "Why don't you leave Abbey with me?" Angelo asked her in the car. "Go and join Mac on the road?"

  "I don't want to," Janet said. "I don't mind it for a day or two, then it gets to be a bit much. I'm not twenty anymore, like when me and your Dad were together. I used to like it then, but not anymore."

  "Don't you miss Mac?"

  "Of course I do," she said, pointing to the car in front of them, "be careful, Angelo."

  "Mom, don't backseat drive."

  "Mac will be home in a couple of weeks. Why don't you go and join Tony on the road?"

  "I don't want him to think I don't trust him."

  "Why would he think that?"

  Abbey started singing in the back seat.

  "There she goes," Angelo grinned.

  "Did you tighten that thing on the car seat?" Janet turned to look at her daughter.

  "Yes. I've done it before. I know how. Where are we eating?"

  "Let's go to Carlos's place. He has crayons for kids."

  "Oh, goodie," Angelo said. "I want to colour, Mom."

  "Ha, ha. You like the food there, don't you?"

  "Yeah. I think I'll have seafood."

  Abbey started singing louder.

  Angelo laughed. "Okay, little sister, enough. I'm trying to drive here. Hum that tune I taught you."

  "K, K," she said and the humming began.

  Luckily, she fell off to sleep before they reached the restaurant. When he carried her to bed a few hours later, Janet smiled at him. "You'd make a good dad."

  "Are you kidding? I'm exhausted. I don't know how you do it."

  "You were worse."


  "Thanks."

  "One day you and Tony might have kids."

  He looked at her and batted his eyelashes. "He hasn't even proposed yet."

  She laughed. "Okay, smart ass." Janet hugged him at the door. "I love you."

  "Good. Me too. Abbey is going to be a rock star."

  "Bite your tongue. She's going to be the next president of the United States, or a doctor. There are enough of those musical types in the family."

  He grinned and walked out the door, honking as he drove away from the curb. As he drove, he got to thinking. His mom had suggested he go and join Tony on the road. It might be fun, just for the weekend. He accelerated. He'd figure out where they were going to be in three days then surprise him. All of a sudden the weather didn't seem so bad.

  * * * * * *

  His name was Nolan Carter. He was around thirty, nice body, stunning blue eyes and handsome enough to please the fans. He was polite with everyone, one hell of a guitar player, and he hung on Drake's every word.

  Drake was very impressed with him and the moment he started playing with the band, it clicked.

  When it came to the music, he did everything right.

  And he didn't have an overgrown ego. He was content to play whatever Drake asked him to.

  Initially, Tony was happy to have him aboard. It took the pressure off him. When he told Angelo on the phone about the band taking on a new member, he had been enthusiastic about it. But as the days went by, Tony realised that Nolan's interaction with Drake had become just a little too friendly for his liking. Wherever Drake was in a room, Nolan's gaze seemed drawn in that direction. And when he spoke to him, often he touched Drake's forearm or leaned his face in close to his.

  Tony's initial friendliness to Nolan gradually cooled when he figured out that Nolan was just biding his time until he could get into Drake's bed.