Bullet Series Box Set Books 1-8

by Jade C. Jamison

  I’d just have to talk my parents into it. And that’s what I said. “Okay, so let’s say I wait. But then I have to get my parents on board. More than that, though, my job’s ended. What do I do then? How do I support myself? It’s not like we’re rolling in the dough.”

  “But what if we were playing four or five nights a week?”

  “Yeah…I can see how that might add up. But you’d have to spend it all on gas, though, wouldn’t you?”

  “Not if we moved to where the shit is.”

  It started to sink in, what he was saying. “Are you thinking we should all move somewhere and play all the time?”

  He’d started grinning. “Yeah…that’s what we’re thinking. We mostly play around Denver, so why not find a place that fits all of us? I keep booking shows, and I could do more if we lived there and didn’t have to drive all over the place. Instead of figuring out if it fit around work and if we could make it to a show on time, I would just have to make sure we had the time free. There are lots of shows we could do, and Denver’s a huge place. And that wouldn’t mean we couldn’t do shows somewhere else, but it would make the ones there a lot easier to get to.”

  I nodded. It was a great idea, but I really didn’t know what my parents would think. They’d been uneasy about my “touring” with the guys, but I didn’t know how they’d feel about me sharing living space with them. Brad continued. “We have a better chance of building a big audience, maybe even of getting picked up by a label someday in the future, if we’re playing more shows.” He could sense my hesitation. “Would it help if all us guys talked to your mom and dad, let them know you’re safe with us?”

  And that’s how the men of Fully Automatic got invited to the Quinn family barbecue the following Sunday. I’d told my parents I wanted them to meet the band, and I also said we wanted to talk to them about something important. I hadn’t told them yet that I wasn’t planning on returning to school.

  We were all out back that afternoon after church. Mom had finished making coleslaw, baked beans, corn on the cob, and potato salad, and I’d helped her carry them out to the picnic table, along with condiments, paper plates, and plastic flatware. Danny was sitting at the table, texting his girlfriend, while dad stood at the grill, checking for the doneness of the steaks on top. I heard the doorbell ring and went into the house to let the guys in.

  A feeling of dread clenched my gut. I hoped they’d toned down their look. I hadn’t asked them to, didn’t feel it was right to request it, but I had gently suggested they try to be conservative. Brad told me he was on it, so I knew he’d look fine. I suspected he’d whip the other guys into shape too.

  And I was glad to find that they all looked like respectable young men…in my eyes, at any rate. Brad’s hair—now between chin- and shoulder-length—he’d pulled into a ponytail and—in spite of the warmer weather—was wearing a white, long-sleeved button-down shirt. He almost looked like he would fit in a laid-back office setting. But I knew what was under the shirt, and the weather could force him to roll up his sleeves if it got too warm.

  Ethan’s hair had grown over the last couple of months, and it was longish but still not the length that would make my parents freak out. His t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers made him look like any normal college guy. Zane’s hair had always been longer, but he too didn’t look bad. He wasn’t wearing the eyeliner he had been during shows, and the new tattoos he had were high on his arms, so his t-shirt sleeves covered most of them.

  Nick…well, Nick was still the shy guy and hardly stood out at all. Not only was he quiet verbally, but he seemed to never want to draw attention to himself, so he didn’t do things that would pull eyes to him. He looked like the most “normal” guy of the group: closely cropped hair and plain blue t-shirt and jeans, one small tattoo on his upper right arm that was covered by the shirt sleeve. Assessing my bandmates as a group, I felt a huge wave of relief washing over me. I knew then that they had a chance of my father not just dismissing them summarily. They could win him over with their personalities.

  “Hey, guys! Follow me.”

  I noticed Brad was carrying a bouquet of flowers and thought he wasn’t gonna win my dad over that way…until I realized he was going to give them to my mother. Oh…he was going to try to capture mom’s heart. Nice play. Should’ve known. Brad was a class act and smart as hell.

  Zane said, “Nice place,” as we walked through the living room and kitchen to the back door.

  “Thanks. I’ve lived here all my life.”

  We got out of the cool house and out into the bright sunlight shining in the backyard. The picnic table had an umbrella, so we’d be saved from direct rays there, but until we sat, we were at its mercy. My mom was already playing hostess and welcoming them to our home. Dad was at the grill a ways away and wasn’t in any hurry to make his way over.

  “Mrs. Quinn,” Brad said, handing her the bouquet. “We wanted to thank you for inviting us over…and for letting us borrow the vocal skills of your talented daughter.”

  Mom smiled. “Oh, you’re certainly welcome.” I introduced the guys to my mom and to Danny who actually bothered to look up from his phone for two seconds. But he seemed to think the guys were cool and wound up sliding the phone in his pocket after one last text. Mom said, “I’d better get these in water. Valerie, could you introduce them to your father?”

  As she walked into the house with the flowers, my dad was making his way over to the picnic table with a platter full of steaks. All the guys looked cool and composed, but I was nervous as hell. That’s probably because I knew my dad a lot better than they did. When dad made his way over, I introduced each of the guys to him and had finished just as mom was heading back out. Dad didn’t give anything away as he shook each guy’s hand.

  We sat down to eat, passing around plates and bowls of food, and just as everyone’s plate got full, my dad asked what we had wanted to discuss with them. So I told him as matter-of-factly as I could. Mom said, “You’re not planning to go back to college this fall?”

  “Mom, I’ve thought long and hard about this. I’m wasting your money. I have no idea what I want to do with my life, and so I don’t have any solid ideas about a major. I thought after a year of attending school, I’d know, but I’m no closer to a decision now than I was a year ago. And I want to do this. It might not be for a lifetime, but I want to do it now. It’s like those kids who travel around the world for a year or two before going to school. I went to school for a year, and now I’m going to try something different. I need to figure out who I am and what I want.”

  Mom’s eyes told me she understood but dad…well, he wasn’t convinced. I could tell just by seeing the rigid expression holding his facial muscles in place. He looked at me and then at each of the young men in my group, carefully and quietly assessing them. Finally, he said, “Let me tell you my concern here. I want to know what your intentions with my daughter are.” Oh, Jesus. Of course. I knew that would be where my dad’s mind went, because mine had already been there. His cold eyes stared each one of my bandmates down.

  Thank goodness Brad acted as spokesperson. “Mr. Quinn, Valerie and I actually already had a conversation about that earlier this summer. And I’ll be honest with you, even though it probably won’t help my case at all. Valerie and I got a little friendly, but when we invited her to sing for the band, I told her that would be a line that we wouldn’t cross. Relationships and work don’t work, so there’s no way I’m going to ruin my band just because I find her attractive. I want to assure you, sir, that we respect your daughter and value her contribution, and we have and will continue to treat her as one of us. With one exception. We’ll use different bathrooms.”

  My mother giggled, but dad was not amused. Still, I could tell that what Brad had said had eased his mind a little bit. “Just so we’re on the same page, there will be no hanky-panky, and one of you so much as touches my daughter without her consent, I will gladly go to prison for the rest of my life for murder.” I noticed I wa
s holding my breath, and I felt myself beginning to blush again because my father just had to go there. But then my mind did a double take. Wait a second. The way he spoke, it was like he was already viewing it as a done deal.

  My voice was quieter than I’d meant for it to be when I said, “So you’re saying I can do this, dad?”

  He cocked his head to the side, but his expression didn’t budge. I knew my dad well, though, and I saw his eyes soften. “You’re an adult, Valerie. I can’t really tell you what to do anymore. All I can do is give you my advice. I know you’ve already made up your mind, but I need to tell you that I don’t think this is a good idea. Now is the time for you to work on getting a degree and figuring out what you want to do with your life. You said that much yourself. And I don’t know that traipsing around the state singing your loud metal music is going to help in that department.”

  I couldn’t stop the smile that was forming on my face, and I couldn’t believe my ears. “So you’re saying I can go?”

  That’s when dad smiled back. “Yes, Valerie, you can go. But know you always have a place to come home to.”

  * * *

  The next two weeks whizzed by as I made preparations for a new life. I had to contact the college and put an end to my involvement there, and then I had packing to do. Brad asked me to head up to Denver with him twice in his hunt for a place to live. He’d already booked more events for September now that he knew we’d be closer to most of the venues and desperate for work.

  Everything was expensive, but we managed to find two-bedroom places for low enough prices. We wanted a three-bedroom apartment, but those were out of our price range. I started feeling nervous, because the gigs we’d had up to this point wouldn’t cover our rent, let alone any of the other expenses I knew we’d encounter. Brad texted the guys and let them know we were going to go with a two-bedroom for now, and we’d find a way to make it work. We were lucky enough to find a place that was furnished so we wouldn’t have to buy furniture as well. But one bedroom had a double bed and the other a twin, so we weren’t sure how to work out those details either. It didn’t matter, though. We’d found a place that was central to some of the venues we had already played and would play. We were closer to where the work was.

  On the way back home, Brad said, “Guess we’ll have to buy some sleeping bags or cots. The couch looked comfortable.”

  I smiled. “Like you said, we’ll make it work. And who knows? Maybe we won’t be there for long.”

  He and I had pooled our money for the deposits and first and last months’ rent and also spent some time (and more money) setting up the utilities not covered in the rent. I was nervous and discouraged by the time I got home, but then I thought to myself that if we all had part-time jobs and had regular gigs, we could make it, and maybe we could even look at bigger places down the line.

  If Brad was concerned too, he didn’t show it. He oozed confidence, and he was positive we’d have no problems. His attitude helped alleviate some of my stress, because Brad had—in the short time I’d known him—done everything he’d set his mind to. So I trusted him and let go of the worry.

  The day came that it was time for me to leave. Brad and the guys had already hauled all of their stuff to the apartment (including the van) the day before, but they said they’d only brought the bare essentials. Their parents—like my own—were okay with them leaving unnecessary items behind, their old rooms becoming storage.

  I’d expected Brad to pick me up that Thursday afternoon, but it was Ethan. I’d already told my parents goodbye that morning, and Danny was off doing something with his girlfriend, so it was just Ethan and me putting my things in the back of his truck. I too just brought along what I thought to be essential—some clothes, makeup, music, laptop, writing supplies. I knew space would be limited, so I didn’t want to bring too much along.

  As we started the trip, Ethan told me the other guys were spending the day buying things we’d need to set up our home—food, cleaning supplies, and things I’d never thought of, like trashcans, towels, sheets, and things. I didn’t have much money left, and I’d contribute what I could when I got there, but I knew Brad had to be getting to the bottom of his money supply too.

  At first, driving down the mountain, Ethan just played the radio, and we didn’t say much to each other. But then he said, “The past few months, I haven’t talked to you much.”

  Oh, well, this was a newsflash. “Yeah…”

  “We’re good friends, right? Or were good friends?”

  “Yeah, I thought so.”

  “And we kind of started getting hot and heavy there…and I sort of backed off.”

  I nodded and looked out the side window. This was starting to piss me off. I didn’t need to be reminded of what an ass he’d been to me. “Yeah.” There wasn’t much more I wanted to say.

  “There’s a reason for that.”

  I looked back over at him. “What would that be?”

  “I…uh…started to care for you more than I should.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I can’t…shouldn’t. I mean…you’re my muse, Valerie.” Oh, God…there was that fucking word again. “So I shouldn’t touch you. And you seemed so innocent, Val…like an angel. I don’t want to ruin that.”

  I started laughing. “Oh, yeah, because metal is full of happy love songs, and everything is all happy and bright and innocent.”

  He laughed too. “You know what I mean.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t think you get where I’m coming from. Pain is part of life, Ethan, and I’m willing to take chances. It hurt me more than you know when you just decided you were done with me. Don’t you think that hurts more than just letting us explore where our relationship was going?” I was looking at him, waiting to see what he thought. “Even if it ends badly? Isn’t it worth just trying?”

  He was quiet for a while. We sped down the road, and I started thinking maybe that was the end of the conversation. But then he said, “Not necessarily.” He looked over at me. “We were great friends, Val. We go down that road…any way you can keep your heart out of it?”

  I wasn’t sure what he was asking. “Why would I want to?”

  “So you didn’t get hurt.”

  It was my turn to contemplate the conversation. I didn’t like the vibes I was getting from him. “Would that be inevitable?”

  He kept his eyes on the road, but I could tell from his expression that there was no humor in his words. “With me…probably.”

  I was getting upset. It was like he’d made up his mind that anything between the two of us would end in disaster. “It doesn’t have to be like that, Ethan. It’ll only be like that if you make it that way. And that would be a shitty thing to do.”

  That got his attention. I didn’t curse like the rest of the guys did, so when I swore, they noticed. He looked over at me, but it was like he was at a loss for words. “If we’re friends, Ethan, then we move forward from there. And friends care about each other, take care of each other. Our friendship is mutual, isn’t it?” He nodded. “So who says it has to be complicated and calculated? Why can’t nature just take its course? Or is there something else you haven’t told me?”

  “No.”

  “Then why do we have to be afraid to see where this goes?”

  Oh…that hit a nerve. Was he angry? I couldn’t tell, but I wanted to listen carefully to what he said next. “Caution is not the same as fear, Val, and why shouldn’t I worry about what happens to you?”

  “Don’t you see that’s what I’m saying, Ethan? In your cautiousness for sparing me, you wound up hurting me worse than if we’d just let things happen.” His jaw was clenched tight. “I don’t care if you don’t want to hear that. If you don’t want to pursue it further, that’s fine. Just say so, but don’t pussyfoot around and then pretend like I’m a hot potato when things get a little warm.” He still hadn’t said a word, so now was my chance to drive it home. “And stop calling me your fucking muse, put
ting me up on a pedestal. I’m your friend, and I’m a band member. I’m an equal, so please treat me like one.”

  He seemed to think about it, and we sat in silence for a while. We still weren’t talking by the time Ethan’s truck made it to the Springs. He said, “You need to stop for anything?”

  “Nope. I’m good.”

  We were on I-25 heading towards Denver when he started talking again. “So…start fresh then?”

  Did he really mean it? He seemed sincere, and I’d felt cheated of his affection from the first moment he’d pulled away. Deep down, yes, I wanted to try it fresh. I wanted a second chance. I wanted to make a real go of it. Rational or not, I loved Ethan. I knew it was stupid, but it didn’t matter. Stupid or not, I wanted him. Part of me knew he was damaged…deeply damaged…and I think that part of me also wanted to try to save him. So, yes, I wanted a fair chance. I nodded. “Yeah.”

  We were another few miles down the road when he said, “Am I fucking up anything between you and Brad?”

  I felt my eyes grow wide. What the hell had Brad said? Was Brad part of the reason Ethan had shied away from me? “No.” The less I said, the better.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah. I’m sure. There’s nothing there.” Well, that wasn’t true. There was some irrational sexual attraction there that I didn’t think would ever disappear. Love, though? Nope. My feelings for Ethan blinded me to anyone else.

  “Does he know that?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  His voice was quiet. “I see the way he looks at you.”

  Oh. I didn’t know Brad looked at me a certain way. But we weren’t going there. I refused. “Ethan, whatever happened between Brad and me is over. You heard him say it himself to my dad, and he meant it. He didn’t want a relationship screwing up the band so he instituted a hands off policy. There is nothing there.” Wow…was I protesting too much? Time to shut up, Valerie.