Blow My Fuse (Hollywood Demons Book 2)

by Autumn Jones Lake

  “Everything all right?” Trigger asks, sauntering up to my side.

  “Yeah. Had some trouble with the one guy on our way out, but he wasn’t gonna make a scene there. I wanna hit the road before he decides to follow, though.”

  “Let’s ride.” He slaps the front of the truck and heads back to his bike.

  “They’re not in any danger, are they?” Mallory asks.

  “No, babe. Everything’s fine. Promise.”

  She makes a hmm sound of disbelief. After a few minutes of silence, she turns to me. “Our fathers want to go into business together, don’t they?”

  No one should ever assume Mallory’s some dumb blonde. “Want probably isn’t the right word. It would be beneficial to both of them is more accurate.”

  “Don’t play semantics with me.”

  “Listen, like I said to your dad, I’m not in on all the inner club-going-ons right now. Even if I was, I couldn’t discuss that stuff with you. Nor should I since it might put you in danger.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her shaking her head. “Chaser…” Her voice trails off when I think she realizes she has no good argument for why she needs details.

  “We have access to an area your father’s never been able to do business in before, okay? I assume my father’s going to try to work that angle, so your dad leaves us alone.”

  “Like bartering for me? Some sort of gangster dowry? That’s gross.”

  “It’s better than the alternative.”

  “Which is?”

  “They keep coming after you, and we retaliate with something stronger than hostile words.” I glance over at her. “Your father doesn’t have the most reasonable reputation in the criminal underworld.”

  She jolts at the word criminal. “I never really thought about that. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” I reach over and take her hand. “Even if I’d known who you were that first day, I still would’ve fallen in love with you.”

  “Thank you for what you said to my father. About supporting my dreams and well, basically seeing me as a person, not an accessory.”

  “I meant every word.”

  “I know you did.” She sighs and looks out the window. “I’ve messed up your life in a lot of ways since I came into it.”

  I definitely don’t like the sound of where this conversation’s going. “You’ve made it better, Mallory.”

  “Sure.” She holds out her hand and lists off her alleged crimes. “I got you in trouble with your band. Cost you the European leg of Revolver’s tour. You got hooked on cocaine because you were taking me to my auditions because I’m too dumb to realize that a hotel is probably not an appropriate audition venue. And now my father might try to have you killed or his associates will declare war on your club because we’re together. None of those things are improvements.”

  Where to begin with that load? “I call bullshit on every single item on your list, Mallory.” I reach over and put my hand in her face. “One, the guys and I fight all the time. Have been doing it since day one. We’re guys. We fight, get drunk together and laugh it off. What Jacob tried to do to you went beyond our normal battles. He’s lucky he’s still breathing. Two, Revolver’s an aging, has-been, cocksucking douche and I’m not one bit upset about missing that tour. Three, haven’t you noticed I’m a possessive, jealous motherfucker? Arrogant as hell, too. We could’ve worked out some other way to make sure you were safe, but that didn’t suit my ego. I made the decision to start snorting coke, Mallory. Not you. Because I had to prove that I could do everything all by myself.”

  She sniffles and bats my hand away. But I’m not going to be deterred by her crying, until she hears and understands what I’m explaining.

  “And finally, our fathers are criminals, Mallory. They are always going to exploit a business opportunity when they see it. They’re both smart enough to know they’ll make more money if we work together.”

  “But my father’s in prison. Even if he tells whoever’s in charge now not to come after you, they might not—”

  “Mallory, honey, I love you, but you have no idea how many criminal enterprises are run from prison. I’m pretty confident your father is still very much in charge. Why the fuck else you think Vasily is driving all the way up here once a week to visit him? It ain’t out of brotherly concern, sweetheart, I assure you.”

  “Don’t call me sweetheart.”

  I tickle my fingers over her shoulder and into the crook of her neck. “No? What should I call you? Darlin’? Sugar pie? Baby girl?”

  “No, no, and no!” She giggles and jerks her shoulder away from my hand.

  “I’m done talking about our parents for today.” I stop teasing her and put my hand back on the wheel. “I’m already gonna get grilled by my dad when we get home.”

  “Fine.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “What do you want to talk about?”

  I glance over, my eyes zeroing in on that tight green sweater dress clinging to her legs and keeping everything from her shins up out of view. Reaching over, I slide the material up, revealing her thigh. “How hard I’m going to fuck you when we get home.”

  She tries to push my hand off, but I strengthen my grip.

  “Stop, you’re going to put a run in my pantyhose.”

  “Little dove, I’ve been planning to rip a big ol’ hole in those things ever since I saw you wiggle your fine ass into them this morning.”

  “Oh, no you’re not.”

  “Oh, yes I am.” I slide my hand up farther, pushing between her tightly clenched thighs until my knuckles graze her hot center. “Gonna bend you over and rip ‘em right here and then shove my dick in your tight pussy.”

  “Chaser,” she whispers.

  “Fuck,” I glance down. “See how hard I am now?”

  She chuckles and reaches over. “Ooo. Too bad we’re still about an hour from home.”

  “Don’t test me, woman. I got no problem pulling over on the side of the road. Be a good story for the guys to tell everyone when we get back.”

  She giggles and pushes my hand away. “Don’t you dare.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Can’t risk anyone getting a peek at the Mallory Dove getting fucked by rock star Chaser Adams.”

  She laughs even harder at my shitty entertainment television host voice.

  “Thank you.” She crosses her legs, and her skirt rises a few inches.

  “You’re killing me,” I mutter.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chaser

  Do I get to go home and fuck my woman like I want?

  No. No, I don’t.

  Club comes first, whether I’m an active member at the moment or not.

  Mallory pouts for a second, before rising up on tiptoes. “I’ll be waiting in your room wearing my stockings and nothing else,” she whispers in my ear.

  I groan and grab her hip, keeping her close. “What are you trying to do to me, woman?”

  “Motivate you.” She kisses my cheek, gives me a flirty wave and trots off down the hallway.

  Behind me, Trigger whistles. I turn to find him rubbing his hand over his crotch and shaking his head.

  “You better have a case of crabs and not be jerking yourself to my girlfriend.” First Tally taking my girl out to the fuckin’ movies, and now this asshole.

  “Sorry, brother. She’s a fine woman. Don’t fuck that up. Lotta men would be willing to treat her right.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “You’re not my type.” He glances down the hall. “Now, Mallory on the other hand—”

  “Don’t.” I hold up both hands. “Go there, brother. I will straight up gut you.”

  He laughs and claps me on the back.

  “Don’t touch me with your damn dick-rubbing hands.” I jerk my shoulder out of his grasp.

  The shit I’m subjected to when I come home.

  Shaking my head, I follow the others into our war room.

  “Sure I’m allowed in here, Pop?” I ask as I pass
my dad and get a smack on the back of the head in response.

  “Child abuser,” I joke.

  He shakes his head, but I can tell he’s trying not to laugh. “Sit your ass down.”

  Once everyone’s in their seat, my father slaps his palm on the table to get their attention.

  “How’d it go with DeLova?” he starts.

  “Better than I expected. He’s not thrilled, but I don’t think he’s gonna try and off me any time soon. Kinda what we thought, he wanted to make sure she was with me willingly and that she was happy.”

  “Aw, ain’t that precious,” one of my brothers says.

  “Fuck off,” I growl.

  My father slaps the table in front of me. “Continue.”

  “He wants to move into Toronto like we expected. Never been able to get into that market before.”

  “Yeah, because they’re a bunch of bloodthirsty backstabbers,” Dice shouts. “We can’t be getting into business with Russians, Prez. You know this.”

  “We have a different relationship now. DeLova’s not gonna put his daughter at risk.”

  “Yeah, and what about when Chaser fucks it up and Mallory dumps his sorry ass?” Trick asks. “DeLova will take it out on every one of us.”

  “Fuck you,” I snap. “That’s fucking bullshit.”

  “All right. Calm the fuck down.” He points at Trick. “You’re not the best person to be offering relationship advice. Watch yourself.” He shuffles through a few papers in front of him. “Who do we have at that facility?”

  “Jesus,” Trigger groans. “Angelo’s there.”

  “All right, I need you to pay him a visit. Explain he needs to make friends with DeLova. See what we can work out with their crew. We’ll take care of whatever he needs.”

  My father glances around the table, taking yes votes from everyone. Only one brother objects, which won’t stop the club from moving forward.

  More delicate club business needs to be discussed, and my father sends me out of the room for that. I’m not insulted. It’s the choice I made when I decided to pursue music over the club. Speaking of, I take the couple free moments to give Alvin a call.

  “When the fuck you coming back?” Alvin shouts. “Shit’s been crazy since you left.”

  “Jesus Christ, really?” I run my hand over my face. “Jacob get clean?”

  “He’s been trying hard.” He lowers his voice. “Are you okay?”

  “Never better, honestly. It was rough at first, but I’m feeling sane again.”

  “Thank fuck,” he mutters. “When you coming back?”

  “Next week?” I have important plans to put in motion before we head back to California.

  “I sent you a copy of LA Pulse. You’re on the cover.” Even if I wanted to, I doubt I could find the weekly gossip rag in Kodack easily. Something Alvin knows. “Thanks, but why? I’m not even in L.A.”

  “Yeah, no shit. That’s what the headline says: “Where’s Chaser Adams?”

  I snort. “No kidding? Didn’t think I was that big a deal.”

  “The video has blown the fuck up. Have you bothered to turn on a television while you’ve been home? Andrew Lane did an interview with MTV, all about how Kickstart is his new favorite band. ‘Candy Jar’ has been number one on Dial MTV ever since.”

  My jaw drops as the news sinks in. The way the entertainment industry moves, that video should be old news by now. Andrew managed to breathe some life into the video Davey Revolver tried to kill. Dial MTV? Shit, Alvin and I used to call in to vote for videos after school all the time when we were teenagers. “Are you serious?”

  “Don’t let it go to your head. Most of the chatter has revolved around how hot Mallory is and whether the two of you are a ‘real’ couple.”

  “As opposed to a fake one?”

  He snorts. “Yeah.” In a lower voice he adds. “Jacob’s not taking it well. The singer’s usually the one who gets all the attention.”

  I roll my eyes. “What do you want me to do about it? I’m not fanning those flames. As you helpfully pointed out, I’m not even there.”

  “Just passing along information.”

  “How’s Val feel about all of this?” It’s been a while since I checked in with her, so it’s weird I haven’t gotten a “where the fuck are you” call.

  He hesitates. “I don’t know.”

  “Chaser!” my father yells. “Get your ass over here!”

  “That the old man?” Alvin chuckles.

  “Yeah, I gotta go. I’ll call you when we’re leaving.”

  “Make it soon. The record company’s running out of patience. They want these demos finished. We’ve gone way over budget already.” He lowers his voice. “I told them you had a family emergency and that’s why you went home.”

  “Thanks, brother. Appreciate that.”

  “Tell your dad I said hi.”

  “Will do. Hang in there. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Who you callin’ brother?” my father asks when I hang up the phone.

  “Alvin.”

  He smirks. “How is that kid?”

  “He’s the only sane one out of the four of us. He says hello, by the way.”

  “Think he’s interested in slapping a patch on his back?” He turns and marches toward his office, expecting me to follow.

  Out of my three bandmates, Alvin’s the only one who could probably handle club life. “Maybe. One day.”

  My father closes the door behind us and points to the chair across from his desk. “Sit down.”

  Wary of whatever’s on his mind, I take my seat. At least my odds of getting choked today should be low.

  “Where you at?”

  “Feel good. Better than I have in a while.”

  “Tell me straight now. How’d Mallory do with her dad?”

  My mouth pulls into a quick smile. “She did good. I was proud of her. I don’t think she’s ever spoken up for herself with him before.”

  “She’s a sassy one.” He laughs. “Good for her. I’m sure DeLova was thrilled.”

  “He was definitely surprised.”

  “Where are you two at?”

  I drum my fingers against the table, considering whether I should answer my father’s question honestly. I’m really not in the mood for him to try and talk me out of my future plans.

  “She’s the one. I need more time sober under my belt and then I’m asking her to marry me.”

  He absorbs the news slowly, sitting back in his chair, but keeping his eyes on me. “You move her out of that shitty apartment yet?”

  I glance away. “Not yet. The guys are right downstairs, so it’s easy for us to collaborate. Mallory understands.”

  “Just because she understands, doesn’t mean you should subject her to living in squalor. You got any idea the kind of home she probably grew up in?”

  “That stuff doesn’t matter to her.” At least I don’t think it does. “She’s not materialistic at all.”

  “It seems fun and romantic now, but eventually, it’ll wear on her.” His jaw ticks. “I don’t want to know how you got hooked on coke, but a change of environment now that you’re clean is in your best interest.”

  If anyone else offered up so much advice on my living arrangements, I’d tell ‘em to fuck off by now. But the old man has a point. “I’ll look for a place when we get back.”

  “Good. Got a ring?”

  Okay, not the question I expected from him. “Uh, planning to stop over at the Treasure Box before we head back to L.A. Maybe put some money down if I find the right one.”

  “Good. Bruce should be able to find whatever you want.”

  “That was my thought.”

  “Where you plannin’ on proposing?”

  I run my hands through my hair. Really wasn’t expecting Dad to have so much interest in this subject, given his feelings about marriage, monogamy, and women in general. “I haven’t gotten that far yet. Maybe Niagara Falls?”

  Pain slashes through his features. “I
took your mother there for our honeymoon.”

  Fuck, really? I search my brain, turning over memories I’ve buried for years. Did I know that? Is that what made me think it was a good idea? “I didn’t realize.”

  “It’s nice,” he says absently.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” He seems to rejoin me here in the present. “Go take care of your girl. Spend some time with her. Amazed she can still tolerate you.”

  So am I. “Thanks.”

  “You need money for the ring?” He jerks his chin at me and reaches for his wallet.

  Did my father just offer me money for an engagement ring? Maybe someone needs to take his temperature or check if he’s had a stroke.

  “No. You’ve done enough for us. I appreciate it.”

  “Make sure you pick out a nice rock for her. Something classy.”

  I lift my chin and smirk at him. “You sweet on my girl, Pop?”

  He snorts and waves his hand in the air. “Hard not to be. Seems to be good to you and for you. She deserves something nice.”

  Christ, maybe he’s dying.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he growls. “I want my only son to be happy, so shoot me.”

  “Thanks.” Time to go before he gets agitated. “Do me a favor and don’t say anything to anyone. I don’t want Doe or one of the girls to ruin the surprise.”

  “I’m not in the habit of gossiping with the ladies, son.”

  He stands, and I try to give him a hug, but he brushes me off. “Get out of here with that touchy-feely shit.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chaser

  It’s dark in my room. Mallory’s bright blonde hair spills over my pillows, and her soft breathing reassures me. After the morning we had, I’m sure she’s exhausted. I stand there staring at her for a while. Looks like she slipped into one of my T-shirts before crawling under the covers. How the hell am I supposed to climb beneath those sheets and keep my hands off her sweet curves?

  With her sleep-tousled hair and scrubbed-clean face, she looks so young, standing here drooling over her makes me feel like one hell of a creepy bastard.