I swallow hard, my head clearing, realizing how close I came to fucking up what we have because I was too high to get away from a girl I don’t even like.
Losing Mallory would be the biggest mistake of my life. It’s a bullshit excuse, but I never would’ve been in that situation if I wasn’t high.
I can’t admit I have a problem, though. Not to Mallory.
I bend down and kiss her. “Don’t leave me,” I whisper against her lips. “Please.”
“Don’t give me a reason to.” Her arms tighten around my neck, dragging me to her. We tumble onto the bed, and I strip off her shorts while she wiggles out of her top.
“I’ve never been so angry, Chaser,” she admits while she works my belt loose and shoves my jeans down over my hips. “You’re lucky I didn’t have a knife, because I probably would’ve stabbed you.”
“God, you’re so fucking hot,” I mumble against her mouth.
“It’s not funny.”
“I’m not laughing, little dove.” I’d deserve a blade to the chest if I ever let her down.
She digs her nails into my ass and parts her legs. My cock grazes her entrance. Wet. Hot. So fucking wet. I can’t wait to sink inside her.
Huh.
I reach down to stroke my dick a few times.
“Chaser?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to concentrate. “Give me a minute.” Christ, I was a hard as a fucking rock seconds ago.
I grab her tits, squeezing and kneading her flesh. Rolling my rough fingers over her nipples until she gasps and squirms under me.
Nothing.
“Chaser?”
My mind and body are ready to go. My girl’s primed and begging for it.
My damn dick is a sad, flaccid noodle.
This is a first.
Is this sexual karma? I let another woman put her hands on me, and now I can’t perform?
I need another line.
Blood’s still pounding through my ears from the three fat lines I snorted earlier. Why isn’t any of it making its way to my damn dick?
Fuck!
Guys back home joke about the horrible phenomenon they refer to as “coke dick” all the time. I’ve always been convinced it’s why my father has no issue selling the shit, but never touched it himself.
I’ve only been doing it for a short time.
I don’t use enough for this to happen.
Do I?
I wrap my hand around my sad cock, trying to stroke it back to a happy state.
Nothing.
Apparently, I do.
Unacceptable.
Stunned and disgusted with myself, I fall down next to her.
“What’s wrong? Are you mad at me?” Mallory asks.
Jesus, fuck no, I can’t have her thinking that. “No, babe. It’s not you.”
It’s me.
What have I done?
Chapter Thirty-One
Mallory
Last night was a nightmare, right?
Chaser made up some excuses, got me off with his hands and then went to sleep.
At least I thought he went to sleep.
I wake up alone in our bed.
That can’t be good.
Worried, he’s doing God knows what, I jump out of bed and hurry into the living room.
And breathe a sigh of relief.
He’s sitting on the couch, writing in his song notebook.
“Hey.” My voice barely above a whisper.
He tips his head up and gives me a pained smile. “Morning.”
“How long have you been up?” I ask.
“Never slept.”
My face must fall because he hurries to add. “I haven’t left the apartment.”
We stare at each other. His haunted eyes and beautiful face twist me up inside. He looks exhausted, broken, and remorseful. I love him so much but have no idea how to help him.
Finally, we break our staring contest, and he beckons me closer. “I need to talk to you.”
Cautious, I approach with slow steps. Is he going to end things? Tell me he’s moving out? Ask me to move out?
He reaches out and takes my hands, drawing me closer. “I need to go home.”
“What? Why? When?”
He presses a finger against my lips. “You were right. I have a problem. I can’t kick it here. The only way I can do it is if I go home for at least a few weeks.” He cocks his head and stares at me. “Will you come with me?”
Sweet, sweet relief washes over me. “Oh my God, yes! Of course, I will!” I shout like it’s a damn marriage proposal.
His eyes widen, and he sits back. “Really? You’re not pissed?”
“Oh, I’m still mad about last night—”
“No, what about work, Mallory?”
The man I love is admitting he has a problem and asking for my help. There’s no way I would ever say no to him.
“I’ll tell my agent I’ll be out of town for a few weeks.” I press my palms to his face. His cheeks scratch my hands with about a week’s worth of stubble. “You’re more important to me.”
He closes his eyes and blows out a long breath. “Thank you.”
“Besides,” I drop my head, “I feel guilty.”
“Hey.” He tips my chin up. “This isn’t your fault. I thought I was smarter than everyone else, and it was no big deal. That is absolutely, one-hundred percent on me. I know it’s not fair of me to ask, but I can’t get better without you.”
Chaser’s a proud man. I know how hard it probably is to admit he needs help. “You don’t have to do it alone.”
“Christ.” He shakes his head. “My father’s gonna kick my ass.”
It’s mean, but I can’t help laughing. “I think a good old-fashioned ass-kicking is exactly what you need.”
Chaser
I wish I wasn’t high. Maybe it’s a good thing, though. Because if I could actually feel anything, I might cry with relief that Mallory isn’t going to kick me to the curb after last night. And I think I’ve humiliated myself enough in the past twenty-four hours.
After Mallory fell asleep, I watched her until the sun peeked around the edges of the curtains. Even as I came down from my high, love for her filled me. I can’t lose her. I won’t.
Then I rolled over and snorted a line.
That’s when I knew it was time to go home.
“Come here.” I pull her closer for a kiss, and she ducks her head. Panic races through my fucked-up brain. “Mallory?”
“Did you make the arrangements yet?” Her big blue eyes shine with hope.
“What? No. I wanted to talk to you first.”
“What if I said no?”
“Don’t fuck with me, Mallory,” I growl.
“I’m not. I genuinely want to know what you would have done.”
What’s the right answer here? I’m not sure what she’s looking for, so I go with the truth. “Then, I guess I would’ve had to go home without you and hope you were still waiting for me when I returned.”
Apparently, that was what she wanted to hear. She grabs my face and kisses the fuck out of me.
“What’s that for?”
“You can’t take care of anyone else if you can’t take care of yourself.”
“You’re still coming with me, though, right?”
She laughs and bobs her head up and down, like I’m crazy for suggesting otherwise. “Yes, Chaser. You can’t shake me that easily.”
I can’t book us on a flight to Buffalo until the next morning.
The wait is hell. An hour seems to take forever to crawl by. How am I supposed to survive the next twenty-four without losing my mind?
No matter how hard I try to concentrate, that dog shit feeling clings to me. My mind won’t stop fantasizing about running downstairs to scrounge up some coke. Fuck knows the one thing that will make this so much harder to kick is how easy it is to score around here.
The need isn’t even physical. It’s more of a mental craving and that pisses me off even m
ore.
Finally, I snap. I can’t take another second. “I have to go downstairs and let the guys know I’m leaving.” I jump up, already running for the door.
“Do you need me to go with you?” Mallory asks.
That’s the last thing I need.
Because there’s a pretty good chance I’ll score enough coke to get me through the next day and a half.
The thought disgusts me.
All along I’d been convinced quitting wouldn’t be an issue. Right up until I actually try to quit. I’ve never felt weaker. And I don’t need Mallory to witness how low I’ve sunk.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chaser
Jacob’s still unconscious in the bathtub when I make it downstairs. Can’t worry about him right now. Like Mallory said, I can’t help anyone else until I get myself sorted.
“You sure he’s still breathing?” I ask Alvin. Out of all of us, he’s the responsible one who would check shit like that.
He peers into the bathroom and shrugs. “Stuck a mirror under his nose earlier. He’s alive.”
How did we slam into rock bottom in such a short amount of time?
“I’m fine,” Jacob groans. “Get the fuck out and let me sleep.”
Thank fuck. As much as Jacob pisses me off, I don’t want the fucker to die.
I find my way out to the living room.
“What’s wrong, Chaser? You look ready to jump out of your skin,” Garrett says.
No reason to draw this out. Or ask for permission. “I’m going home for a few weeks.”
Garrett sits back and runs his hands through his hair, but doesn’t say a word.
Alvin pins me with a stern look. “We’re not done with the demo for Cutter. The longer we make him wait, the greater the chance he refuses to work with us.”
“For now, we’re done.” I throw my hand out toward the bathroom. “We would’ve delivered the songs to Cutter weeks ago if it wasn’t for Jacob fucking around.”
“What’s going on?” Garrett asks.
“I’m too fucked up, and I need to get clean.” No point in lying to my bandmates. It’s not like they haven’t witnessed my decline firsthand. Maybe if they know I’m getting my shit together, it will encourage them to do the same.
Hell, I can dream, right?
Garrett shakes his head and walks out of the room.
“Why now?” Alvin asks.
I lean in. “Bro, this is messing with me way too much. All the stuff I’ve been writing lately is shallow and shitty. I either can’t sleep or I sleep too damn much.” I lower my voice. “Can’t keep my dick up long enough to fuck my girl. That’s the final straw. The lowest I’m willing to go.”
The son of a bitch roars with laughter.
“It’s not funny.”
“No,” he says, turning serious again. “It’s not.”
“Will you check on our place while we’re gone?” I point at him. “And do not use it as another party pad.”
The corners of his mouth tip up. “Nah, if anything, I’ll probably use it to get away from these two fiends.”
“You gotta look after Jacob. G’s got no spine when it comes to him. I’m sorry, I’m dumping it on you, but I’m no good to any of you in this condition.”
“No, I get it.” He rubs his hand over the back of his neck. “You tell Val yet?”
“Fuck. No, I just decided this morning.”
He claps his hand over my shoulder and squeezes. “I’ll go with you to break the news.”
Before leaving, I need to pop upstairs and let Mallory know where I’m going. After last night, if I disappear on her right now, no matter the reason, she might not be here when I return.
“Everything okay?” The suspicious way she eyes me up and down stings.
“I’ll be back in a few hours.”
She works her jaw from side to side, clearly not pleased, but hesitant to argue with me in front of Alvin.
“What are you doing with your bike?” Alvin asks.
“Shit.” My body twitches as I search the apartment. Like a parking spot’s going to magically appear in my living room.
“We’ll look for a place to store it,” Alvin assures me. “Come on.”
“What do you need me to do?” Mallory asks.
“Pack a bag. Make your phone calls.”
“All right.” A feral expression I’m not used to seeing on Mallory’s face turns her features hard. No nonsense. She comes closer and grabs a fistful of my T-shirt, yanking me to her. “Don’t fuck around today, Chaser.” She lowers her voice. “I’m not kidding. Do what you need to do and get your ass back here.”
Fuck, she’s fucking hot.
“Alvin, give us a minute.” I hold up one finger and nudge Mallory backward.
“Oh, no.” She digs in her heels and won’t budge. “You haven’t earned any pussy yet. Get going.”
I groan. There’s nothing hotter than the word pussy coming out of my girl’s proper-princess mouth. “You worried I’ll let you down again?” I whisper in her ear.
“No.” She kisses my cheek. “I’m trying to keep you focused.” Her face softens, and she runs the back of her hand over my cheek. “Trust me, as soon as we’re back in New York, I’m going to fuck you silly.”
Blood thunders through my veins, and I pull her closer, pressing a searing kiss to her lips. “Well, now I’ve got something to look forward to.”
Goals. Everyone needs them.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chaser
Being out with Alvin while we run our errands gives me too much time to plan and scheme.
The addict side of me has apparently grown a pair and decided if I’m going home to get clean, I should go out with a bang.
To say Val’s pissed about me leaving is an understatement. Since I’m not explaining my addiction or dick situation to her, I keep our conversation as vague as possible.
Unfortunately, Val can see right through my wall of cool. “Are you using? I can get you into a program here. You don’t need to go all the way to New York to get sober.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Chaser, everything about the band is my business.”
I keep my lips sealed.
“This is the worst possible time for you to disappear. That demo needs to be done. Yesterday.”
A begging, pleading, reasonable-toned Val is downright unnerving.
“Trust me, I’m just as worried about it as you are. But you and I both know right now what we’re missing are Jacob’s vocals.”
She sighs. “Tell me what’s really going on with him?”
Should I tell Val? Probably. But while I strongly suspect he’s added shooting smack to his drug repertoire, I don’t know for certain. Besides, ratting people out isn’t in my nature. “You’ll have to talk to him about it.”
“Give me something, Chaser.”
“I’ve got nothing to give right now, Val. That’s the truth.”
“Mallory’s going home with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Jesus Christ, you’re going to ruin both your careers in one shot.”
Fury rises in my throat. I slap my hand on her desk and stand. In what’s left of my rational mind, I know I’m only pissed because she voiced my worst fear. “We’re done here. I’ll check in with you once a week and let you know when I’m back in town.”
“How mad is she?” Alvin asks as I stomp down the hallway. People actually leap out of my way. Office doors shut with a bang. Guess I must be a scary bastard today.
“Give me a second.” I hold up one hand to Alvin and reverse course.
Val’s assistant jumps when I rest my elbows on her desk and lean over. I give her a wink and a crooked smile. She hands out coke like Halloween candy. I’m pretty sure it’s part of her job description. Another reason Val trying to talk me into rehab pisses me off so much.
The exchange takes a few seconds.
A minute later, I’m in the bathroom inhaling two fat l
ines.
Ah, breakfast of champions.
“Seriously?” Alvin takes one disgusted look at me when I meet him outside.
“I didn’t say I was quitting today.” I practically rip the passenger side door out of his hands and throw myself into the car. “Step off my nuts.”
He slams the door in my face.
The rest of the day consists of finding a storage facility for my bike, snorting lines, and a fog of paranoia.
Every cop I see must be the one who will pull us over, stopping me from making it home to Mallory.
“Dude, chill the fuck out,” Alvin snaps after I tell him to slow down for the millionth time. “Christ.”
“I gotta get home.”
“No shit.” Under his breath he mutters, “Poor fucking Mallory.”
The guilt tumbles over me like a pile of bricks. “Shut up and drive.”
Mallory’s not impressed with my condition when we return to the apartment.
“Sorry,” Alvin says, holding up his hands while he backs out the door. “I tried.”
“Not your fault.” She gives me the stink-eye. “He’s a sneaky prick.”
I grin at her. “I love you.”
Once we’re alone, she crosses her arms over her chest and walks around me in a circle.
“Live it up now, big boy. You’re not bringing drugs on the plane. I can’t risk you getting arrested.”
Shit. Hadn’t thought of that.
Can I make it through the long flight without being fucked up? I planned to wean myself off it once we got to New York. Not quit cold turkey right this second.
The thought of going without for so long shoves me into panic mode. In my coked-out mind, it makes perfect sense to snort as much as possible right this second. As if my body will hang onto the high for the trip home.
At this point, I have nothing to hide from Mallory. So, I plop down on the living room floor to fret about the drug-free flight home and snort a few thick lines.
While she listens to all the crazy babble flying out of my high-as-fuck mouth, I try not to notice the tears streaming down her cheeks.
Blow My Fuse (Hollywood Demons Book 2) Page 15
