BRAD AND VAL took longer than half an hour to make it to her house, a nice leisurely stroll in the cool early summer air. She even let him kiss her good night before she went in her house. It assured him he continued to have a chance.
The walk back to the hotel, though, was something different entirely. He was fucking pissed—not only at Nick for the cock block of a lifetime, but he was pissed at Ethan for making Valerie feel like shit. He was gonna give it to them both with both barrels.
By the time he got there, though, he was tired and, even though his balls ached to their core, he was feeling calmer. He walked in the hotel room, and everyone was passed out. Ethan was in one of the beds with a blonde on both sides. Zane and his girl were in the other bed, and there was no sign of Nick. Still in the van maybe. He grabbed a pillow that had slid onto the floor and sat in one of the chairs, setting the pillow on the table and resting his head on it. Before he knew it, it was morning. He felt like hell, so he got in the shower. The guys (and the girls surrounding them) were sleeping, so he got dressed and decided to walk around town in search of a cup of coffee.
He slammed the door on his way out.
Immature, yeah, but he wanted their asses out of bed by the time he returned.
He felt a little better. His head stopped throbbing, and he felt a little calmer about the situation with him and Valerie. But he’d also been hatching a plot—not only would it keep her more fully in his life, but it would also help her realize the dream she’d been denying herself.
He found a café on Main Street and drank a few cups of coffee. He wrote some notes on his phone—that song, that tune that had been floating around in his head the night before. He had to get it down before it was lost for good, because it signified something special in his life. When his head was clear and his mood improved, he paid for the coffee, left a nice tip, and then walked back to the motel.
Sometime after ten o’clock, Brad unlocked the door to the motel room he and his bandmates (and their dates for the previous evening) had shared. He was dying to get home to his own bed and real sleep. Before then, though, they had some business to finish. He nearly started shouting, finding them all in various states of slumber—including Nick, who’d found his way back to the room. The drummer was curled up on the bed next to Zane, his mouth wide open and snoring. He was also tempted to kick their asses. It was a little too early to start doing the whole sex, drugs, and rock and roll thing. They weren’t established enough at the rock and roll part to go nuts yet.
Instead, he stayed under control and cool and said, his voice loud, commanding, but not overbearing, “Guys, time to get up. We gotta check out and then hit the road.” He had to shake Ethan’s shoulder once to get him to stir, but one of the blondes sat straight up and then freaked out when she realized her tits were hanging out uncovered. She woke her sister, and both women made their way to the bathroom.
Zane was moving his head back and forth and started opening and closing his mouth as though there were a bad taste in it. Then he opened his eyes and saw Nick curled up next to him. He sat up, his date waking at the same time. He said, “Nick, get your ass up.”
Brad was moving Ethan’s shoulder back and forth. The guy was dead to the world. He heard Zane behind him say, “What? Your girlfriend didn’t want to cuddle with you so now you’re hitting on me?”
“Whatever.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Zane cleared his throat. “Fag.”
“Fag? You’re the one who was cuddling me. Just ‘cause I curled up next to you.”
“Kiss my ass.”
“Yeah, you play tough. I felt your dick getting all hard with me next to you.”
“Get the fuck out of here.”
Nick started giggling, and then grabbed his head. “Oh, fuck. Laughter—not good.”
“That’ll teach you to hit on your friend, butt munch.”
“Fuck you.”
Brad would have laughed if he hadn’t been so angry. “Come on, Ethan. Get your ass up.” Finally, his friend registered Brad’s voice, and he sat up. In the meantime, Brad heard the girl with Zane mutter something, and then she rustled around a bit and left.
“What?”
“We gotta go. We need to get back home. I have to work in the morning.”
“Work shmirk. I don’t know why you bother. If you wanna have a band, you need to fully commit.”
That was it. “Are you fucking kidding me, Ethan? You have the balls to go there? Did you know we wouldn’t even have that goddamn van or be able to rent that trailer if not for my job?”
Ethan shrugged but said nothing. The blonde twins emerged from the bathroom. They giggled and tiptoed over to Ethan. Both kissed him on the cheek. “Call us next time you’re in town.”
“I don’t have your number.”
“Yeah, you do. We added ourselves to your contacts list on your phone.”
They blew kisses and one of them shook her ass on the way out the door. Once they’d shut it, Zane said, “How the fuck do you do that, man?”
“Do what?”
“Score such prime meat.”
Ethan shrugged. “I dunno.”
“They’re cute.”
“Monique and Dominique. They had a unique technique.”
Nick started laughing again and then he grabbed his head once more. “Ow.”
Brad sighed. “Guys, we have a lot to talk about.”
“Sure, dad. What’s on your mind?” Ethan draped his legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed the crumpled pack of cigarettes on the nightstand next to the phone.
“Don’t you start that bullshit right now, Ethan. Actually, no. Since you did, we’ll start with you.”
Ethan scowled. “What the fuck did I do exactly?”
“What didn’t you do?” Ethan glared at him, challenging him. Brad took that as a cue to chill, so he took a deep breath and made sure his voice was calm and even when he finally spoke. “Dude, what the hell are you doing to Valerie?”
“What? Valerie?” Ethan lit a cigarette and slammed the lighter on the nightstand.
“Yeah, Valerie. Didn’t you kiss her when we were in Colorado Springs?”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Maybe.” He took a drag off his cigarette. “So?”
“So…she cares about you.”
“And?”
“And she thinks you feel the same way. That was an asshole move, bringing those two girls to the party when Val was expecting to spend time with you.”
Ethan stood. “Don’t even fuckin’ start with me, Bradley. I saw you more than happy to pull her out of here. Why the hell should I even try when you’re with her?”
Brad stood as well. “Are you that goddamn stupid?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Guys, help me out here. Who does Valerie really have eyes for?”
Zane said, “Fuck that. I’m not getting in the middle of this bullshit.”
Brad nodded. “Fair enough. Maybe you need to ask her yourself.”
“Tell me the truth, brother. Did you fuck her last night?”
Oh, God…he’d wanted to. He hadn’t ever wanted anything so badly in his life. Nick could attest to the fact that he hadn’t—if he could even remember anything. Of course, he could also let them know that Brad and Val had been doing a little more than talking. But that led him to topic number two. “No. But I wish we had. She needed someone to make her feel better. And, by the way, Nick, thanks a lot.”
“What the hell did I do?”
“Biggest cock block in history, man.”
Nick’s jaw dropped as he seemed to remember the past night’s events. “Oh, shit. Sorry, dude.”
Brad’s shrug was halfhearted. “Too late now.”
“I thought it would be okay. We do shit like that all the time.”
“Yeah, but…Valerie’s different. She’s not a groupie.”
Ethan crushed his cigarette out in the glass ashtray on the nightstand. “And that’s where your problem is, assholes. Y
ou think of Val like a friend, rather than just another chick.”
Brad felt his blood pressure rising again, but he caught Zane’s look, so he knew it wasn’t just himself thinking Ethan was way out of line. That was good, because he was going to need back up for the final thing he was going to say—a proposition of sorts, and if he had to, he was going to make both Ethan and Nick feel guiltier to get them to agree to his terms. He wanted to instead beat the shit out of his friend, but he also knew it was Ethan’s dark, drug-fueled side, and he’d let it slide…for now.
“Go clean up, animals. There’s something else we need to talk about.”
“Spit it out.”
“Fuck, no. Go clean up. Then we’ll talk.” Brad went outside for a few minutes of fresh air. It was almost hot outside, but for now, the warm sun felt nice on his arms. He looked down and saw the half sleeve of tattoo from the hem of his t-shirt sleeve down to his elbow. He loved that mishmash of tats, and they made him feel like an honest-to-God rock star. He knew better, though. It was time to take it seriously, time to take it to the next level, and he thought maybe his proposal would help them.
After close to ten minutes, he walked back in the room. Zane had taken a shower and was wearing a new pair of jeans. Ethan was smoking another cigarette, and Brad couldn’t tell if he’d done shit, but he looked more awake. Nick appeared to have, at least, scrubbed his face and made an attempt. Brad could tell that the guy was feeling last night’s overindulgence. He was glad he himself had found coffee, because it was helping him deal better.
“All right, guys. Ready to hear me out?”
Ethan growled, “If you’re done nagging like a bitch.”
Ethan was getting under his skin today, and he’d get nowhere if he let him. So he took a deep breath and pretended his friend hadn’t said anything. “I have a question first. What’d you guys think of Val when she sang with us?”
Zane didn’t hesitate. “She’s got a great voice. And the guys seem to really like her.”
Guys? “What guys?”
“The guys in the audience. They dig her. She looks hot with a mike in her hand.”
Brad felt a little green monster rear its ugly head in his gut, and he had to fight it. Maybe that was true, but that wasn’t what Brad was thinking…or wanting. “Yeah, but singing…what do you think?”
“She kicks ass.”
Nick said, “Yeah, she really does. She wrote the song you guys sang, right?” Brad nodded. “I think that’s why she put so much emotion into it. She has solid pipes, man.” He tilted his head. “What are you thinking?”
Ethan had been unusually quiet, and Brad didn’t want to show his cards until he knew what his brother thought. “Ethan?”
His friend scowled again—something that was becoming a frequent occurrence—and then lit another cigarette. “If you’re thinking what I think you are…”
“Just answer the goddamned question.”
“What was it?”
“What did you think of Val onstage?”
Ethan took a long draw on the cigarette in his hand and seemed to consider it. “She was good, I guess.”
Well…for him to admit it, even if in a noncommittal way, said something to Brad. “Guys, I’m thinking she might be just what we need to move to the next level.” He let that sink in for a few moments. They didn’t quite know what to think, but he could see them processing it. Time to drive forward. “You guys know she’s a phenomenal songwriter. Her words blow ours to utter shame, and if you deny it, you’re fucking liars.”
They all nodded, including Ethan, and that was telling, because out of the two of them, Ethan was the better songwriter. The guy had deep wells of pain to draw from, and when he focused on the pain and driving it through the pen onto paper and into his music, he was brilliant. More often than not, though, Ethan preferred to drown the pain in booze and drugs, squandering any writing talent he had.
“But she’s a great singer too. For not practicing at all, she was amazing. And you can tell she’s into it. I think once she got over being nervous, she could take us to the next level.” Ethan blew out a cloud of smoke, ready to protest, but Brad interrupted. “No, think about it. Ethan, you and me, man…we’re doing double duty. Wouldn’t it be nice to just focus on your axe, concentrate on perfecting your skills? Instead, we’re so busy singing too that our attention’s divided. Rhythm, lead, it doesn’t matter. I know I personally could get a thousand times better if I wasn’t worried about singing too—and keeping the audience excited and engaged.”
Zane said, “So…do we try her out or what?”
“Well—yes and no. I mean…we already tried her out, right? And she passed with flying colors.”
Ethan said, “I don’t know about flying colors.”
“Still—she kicked ass, right?” There was general consensus around the room. “As far as a trial period, don’t you think now’s the time to talk to her first? What if she thinks we’re fucking stupid? What if she says no?” That’s where Brad felt confident—he didn’t think she would. He’d seen the draw of the stage, the way the siren call of metal had pulled Val in, and he would be shocked if she turned them down. Either that, or he would have underestimated Val’s future plan for herself. But he was damn sure she would jump on the offer. “So—what do you say?”
They didn’t know it at the time, but their group affirmation to Brad’s proposal would change all of their lives forever.
Chapter Twenty-one
BRAD DROVE TO Val’s house, the trailer attached to his van and all the gear and equipment already tucked and stowed away. He hoped he was remembering the route (and the house) correctly from the night before. It had been dark, and he’d been in an overly emotional state, so he didn’t know if his memories were impaired.
At least the hard part was over. He was certain Val would be an easy sell. He didn’t think he’d misread her—not one bit. She might take a little convincing, but he had no doubts in his mind that she wanted to do it.
He couldn’t figure out what Ethan’s problem was, though. As they were loading up the van, his friend had said, “Yeah…this is just an elaborate excuse to get into her pants.” That wasn’t it. Not at all. Would he love to get into her pants? Hell, yeah, and he wouldn’t deny it, but asking her to sing for them wasn’t just a complicated ruse to deflower her. Instead, it was the natural end result of what Brad had seen in her eyes, that despite all her protests, she dreamed about the stage. And she really was a hell of a writer. They’d be fucking idiots to let her go without even trying to extend some kind of offer.
He cared about Valerie, and that was part of what had driven him to ask. He hoped that, unlike Ethan, she could see that. And that was why he was going to go to her house alone. He didn’t need Ethan fucking it up before she’d even had a chance to hear him out.
But as he got closer there, he thought he’d need all his friends to help convince her to do it. His goal instead would be to get her to come to the pizza joint where the guys were already hanging out.
So he pulled up to the modest two-story unassuming house painted white. The yard was immaculate, with a matching white picket fence out front—pretty cliché, and yet it didn’t surprise Brad at all. He hadn’t paid much attention to the fence or the color of the house the night before in the dark, but in the stark light of day, he couldn’t help but notice it.
He made his way up the walk and wondered who would answer the door. He’d already had a few experiences with adults not caring for the way he looked. Leah’s dad had hated the fact that he didn’t have short hair, and now he had visible tattoos as well. He didn’t care what most older people thought, but he found himself nervous about what Val’s parents might think.
He took a deep breath before he rang the doorbell. He had to get his shit under control. He wouldn’t do well at all if he looked like a fumbling, nervous idiot. He took another breath and punched the button. Better to just get it over with.
Several seconds passed and he started wo
ndering if anyone was home. But he thought he’d heard something inside. Finally, the inner wooden door swung open, and it was answered by a teenage boy, probably only two or three years younger than Brad. He had light brown hair that was long enough to touch his collar, but Brad noticed that the kid had the same eyes and lips as Val. He had to be her brother. The kid looked distracted and maybe even a little irritated, and Brad quickly saw why. He had a PlayStation controller in his hand. Brad had interrupted his game. Maybe he was the only one home, or he’d been waiting for someone else.
And why the fuck was Brad worried about that shit?
Another breath. “Is Val home?”
“Yeah.” The kid pushed the screen door open, and Brad grabbed it, following the kid inside. He didn’t exactly invite Brad in, but Brad took his cue. He walked inside the house and paused at the foot of some stairs in the hallway. He yelled, “Val, the door!”
It wasn’t long before Val was at the top of the stairs, and her little brother had disappeared. She looked as beautiful as ever, but she looked almost bashful, and he guessed it was because she was feeling a little funny about the previous night’s proceedings. He didn’t want her to feel guilty for telling him no. He’d gotten over it. So he smiled back at her, letting her know no hard feelings as she descended the stairs.
Once there, she walked around him. “Come in,” she said, inviting him into the living room. They both sat on the sofa and she asked, “So…what’s up?”
He reminded himself of his new goal—to just get her to come talk to the guys. Together, the four of them could convince her. As awkward as he could tell she felt, she wouldn’t agree to it with him by himself. She also needed to know the whole band had agreed on it. “Me and the guys wanted to talk to you about something before we blow town.”
“What?”
“We’re gonna eat a late lunch before we go. The guys are already at a pizza place downtown. Can you join us for a few minutes?”
He thought he could see some hesitation, but she agreed. “Sure.” She stood. “I need to let my mom and dad know, though.” She walked out of the living room, and he followed her back down the hall. She turned and yelled down some stairs that led to a basement. “Hey, mom, is it okay if I go hang with my band friends for a while before they leave?”
Fully Automatic (Bullet) Page 16
