Blow My Fuse (Hollywood Demons Book 2)

by Autumn Jones Lake

  She laughs. “I was an eager little beaver, wasn’t I?” More seriously she adds, “You’re all special in your own way, but you’re the anchor, the cornerstone of the band. Hate me for saying it all you want, but if Garrett or Alvin left, the band would probably still be able to fill their slots and soldier on. If you or Jacob leave, Kickstart’s finished.”

  “Come on, Val.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “No one’s leaving the band. I think we’ve all accepted that we’re bound together until the end of eternity.”

  “Have you? You have other stuff outside the band. They don’t. You told me a long time ago you always planned to go home and take over your father’s motorcycle club. Music has been nothing but a fun diversion for you.”

  “I’m not sure how much fun it’s been lately, Val. Even so, I’m still committed to the band.”

  “Now you have Mallory too. You don’t need them as much as they need you.”

  As much as I know my future resides in New York at the head of the Devil Demons MC’s table, I’ve never envisioned music not being a part of my life. “I’m not throwing in the towel, yet. We still have a platinum album to earn.”

  She smiles at the memory. One of the first things Val asked when she started working with us was to define our biggest goal. We’d easily said having an album go platinum with the eagerness of a green band with no fucking clue how the music industry works.

  “You’ll do it. Jacob and Garrett might be backstabbing fuckers who deserve to have their dicks rot off.” She takes a breath. “But I’ll always be team Kickstart. I’m rooting for you to go all the way.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Mallory

  While Chaser catches up with the band, I listen to the fifteen or so messages from my agent and give her call.

  “What’s up, Marilyn?”

  “Jesus, please tell me you’re finally back in town?”

  “Just got in.” I yawn as the three-hour time difference wallops me upside the head.

  “Good. Listen, Shallow End wants you to come in again. The casting agent was adamant that she wants you.”

  “Really?”

  “Don’t get too excited. It’s a two-episode gig, but I have a feeling that if they like you, it might turn into a recurring role.”

  She gives me the details of when and where to show up. I hang onto my professionalism as long as possible but finally whoop for joy after hanging up the phone.

  “What’s got you so excited?” Chaser asks as he walks in the door.

  Breathless, I relay everything Marilyn said.

  “Seriously? The show Pamela snagged?”

  I growl at the reminder. “Yes, supposedly, they specifically asked for me. It’s only two episodes but—”

  “That’s fantastic. I’m so proud of you.”

  I slap his chest. “We can talk about that later. What happened?”

  Chaser shares the details of his visit with Valerie. While she might not have been my favorite person in the world, I can’t help but feel bad. “Poor Val. I’m proud of you, though. It took guts to go visit her.”

  “I wanted her to know I didn’t agree to letting her go. If I’d had a problem with her representation, I would’ve said it to her face.”

  “Naturally.” One thing Chaser’s not afraid to do is share his opinions.

  “Enough about that. What else did your agent say?”

  “I need to be on set Thursday.”

  “Wow, that was fast.”

  “I know, right?” I bite my lip. “What’s next for you?”

  He shrugs. “As much as I don’t like it, I guess I have to sit down with Thom and give the guy a fair shot.”

  Chaser

  I’m trying hard not to be an asshole, but I can’t help feeling like our new manager’s a bit of a snake who slithered his way into representing the band.

  “Hear him out,” Alvin pleads on the sidewalk outside Thom’s office. “I’m not thrilled about the way it all went down either, but he does have some good ideas for us.”

  “All right.” I trust Alvin’s opinion, and it’s not like rehiring Val’s an option.

  Thom’s a big, loud, suit-wearing type of guy who stands to shake my hand when I enter his office. “Good to finally sit down with you, Chaser.”

  “Nice to officially meet you.” I manage to shave off enough of my sarcastic tone to almost sound professional.

  “Now,” he says, once we’re all settled, “I just got off the phone with Cutter. He’s got your demo, and he’ll let us know what he thinks.”

  “That’s it?” Alvin asked. So much for giving the guy a chance.

  “Well, the record company wants to release the four songs as an EP before you start the Vicious Vandals tour.”

  “Fucking great.” Jacob snarls and jumps out of his chair. “Are you kidding me? We bled for every one of those songs and now we’re supposed to drop ‘em on a half-assed EP?”

  “Isn’t this what we wanted? To put as much of our heart and soul into our songs and into the world?” Alvin asks.

  “Yeah, but an EP is never going to sell as well as a full album,” Garrett points out.

  “Not necessarily true,” Thom says. “It’s a good way to keep your name on the minds of people who can’t get to see you in concert. A little give back to the fans. Plus, you’ll have more material to pull from for your set.”

  “That’s true.” Jacob finally stops his furious pacing.

  As much as I don’t want to agree with Thom about anything, I like his take on the matter. The fact that he seems to be able to get through to Jacob is a bonus.

  “They want you to add four live tracks as well,” Thom continues.

  Here’s where I need to add my two cents. “We don’t have any decent quality live recordings.”

  “You’d be surprised how many ‘live’ albums were actually recorded in a studio.” Thom skewers Jacob with a no-bullshit stare. “This needs to be done quickly. No perfectionist, drama bullshit. ‘Candy Jar’ needs to be one of the tracks. I’d suggest ‘Hammer to the Heart’ and two cover songs to round out the list. A Shooting Fences’ song and a Vicious Vandals’ song might be good choices, but it’s up to you.”

  Thom finishes that “up to you” part with his eyes focused on me. Someone must have explained that I enjoy being told what to do as much as any man enjoys a donkey kick to the nuts.

  “What about ‘We Die Young?’” Alvin suggests. “That used to be our favorite Vandals song.”

  “That’s a good one.” I’d certainly played the song enough when we were younger. Still remember every note.

  “Decent choice.” Thom sits back and nods. “The lawyers can work out the licensing for the song, but I don’t think it’s going to be a problem. Shooting Fences might be harder, but there’s a lot of goodwill there from the shows you did with them.”

  Guess they forgave us for Jacob’s streaking through the hotel antics that weekend.

  “Have fun with the live songs. Rough ‘em up a little,” Thom suggests.

  “Oh!” Jacob shouts and claps his hands. “Fuck yeah. We can do a totally gritty version of ‘Candy Jar.’”

  “‘Let me slide my hand in your Candy Jar’ isn’t sleazy enough for you?” I ask.

  “Yeah, but the album version is so clean and upbeat, you have to really listen to realize the lyrics are dirty.”

  Garrett’s practically bouncing out of his seat. “Jacob could sing in a lower register, and we could slow it down a bit, really grind it out, make it totally punk-rock.”

  I’m not so sure I agree with the punk-rock goal, but anything to make that song less of a cheesefest is fine with me, since it’s apparently going to haunt me until the day I die.

  “All right.” Thom claps his hands together and stands. “Studio time’s been booked. Work on your two songs while I get the approval for the Vandals’ cover. And give me a title for the Shooting Fences song, so I can work on that.”

  “What a
bout ‘Fire Me Up?’” I suggest. It’s a classic. One of my dad’s favorites. Probably one of the first songs I learned how to play. Plus, I want to decide this before leaving Thom’s office, so Jacob and Garrett don’t make the decision behind my back later.

  “That’s been done a bunch of times,” Jacob complains.

  “Yeah, but that’s a great one to put our spin on,” Garrett says. “Lots of room for interpretation. We all know it by heart.”

  “I’m in,” Alvin adds.

  “Three to one.” Thom stares at Jacob with a raised eyebrow. “What do you say?”

  “All right. Let’s do it.”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Mallory

  “We did it!” Chaser announces.

  “You finished?”

  “Yup.”

  Right under the wire too. The guys are supposed to leave for their tour next month.

  “Chaser!” I jump up and hug him so hard, we almost topple to the floor.

  “We nailed ‘Queen of the Road.’ It’s fucking amazing.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “It will always remind me of you.”

  “I’m honored.”

  “I think that’s why it took me so long. The universe wouldn’t let me have the full song until you came into my life.”

  My heart melts at his sweet words. “You’re my whole universe.”

  “Same, little dove.”

  I slide my arms around his neck and reach up to kiss him. “Do you want to celebrate?”

  “Definitely. But we’re meeting downstairs to try and come up with a name for the EP.”

  “You don’t have a name, yet?”

  “We have several, we just can’t agree on any of them.”

  “You need a fifth member to be a tie-breaker.”

  “No, thanks. I have my hands full as it is.”

  We head downstairs where the loud sounds of a porno greet us. Apparently, in their quest to remain sober, Jacob and Garrett have taken up marathon viewings of adult films.

  Jacob grins at us from the couch. “See, I’m doing my part to stay sober.”

  “Great,” Chaser mutters. “Can we mute this?”

  “Wait, wait.” He sits up and points at the screen. “This is my favorite part. Look how hot she is when she bends over in those heels and nothing else.”

  “That’s great, buddy.” Chaser slaps Jacob’s shoulder. “Are we coming up with a name or not?”

  “Fuck, yeah!” Alvin shouts, slamming his hand over the off button on the television.

  “At least stop the tape, so I can watch it later,” Jacob mutters, crawling across the living room to punch the stop button on the VCR.

  “All right. Let’s do this.” Jacob wiggles his fingers in the air. “Hit me with your best stuff.”

  Just like they did with the lyrics for ‘Queen of the Road,’ the guys throw a bunch of words at each other, picking them apart and adding to the ideas as they go.

  “Affection for Mayhem!” Garrett shouts.

  “Veto.” Chaser shakes his head. “Too close to Appetite for Destruction.”

  Garrett consults the notepad on his lap. “I have a lot in this general category. I’m guessing Craving for Carnage is out too?”

  “What are we a death metal band now?” Chaser asks. “Hard pass.”

  “Lust for Victory?”

  “Boo!” Alvin jeers.

  “Fuckers,” Garrett mutters. “I’m out.”

  “Thirst for Danger?” Jacob suggests.

  “Lame.” Chaser gives that one two thumbs down and gets a middle finger from Jacob in return.

  “Havoc and Hell?” Alvin tosses out.

  “That’s what we should name this apartment, not an album,” Jacob says.

  “Strangle the Truth,” Chaser suggests.

  “What are we a death metal band now?” Garrett mimics Chaser’s earlier comment in a snide tone.

  “No.” Jacob snaps his fingers. “I like that direction. Truth and Lies…” He closes his eyes and mutters a few words. “Lies and Trust.”

  “Lies and Other Promises!” Chaser raises both fists in the air.

  “Yes!” Alvin flies across the room to high-five Chaser.

  “That’s the one!” Jacob dances in a little circle. “Perfect. Now I feel better about putting out an album with those bullshit ‘live’ tracks.”

  “Oh, fuck yeah!” Garrett pumps his fist in the air. “Our secret FU to the label for that one.”

  Giddy over their accomplishment, I clap my hands and let out a happy squee.

  “You like it, Mallory?” Jacob asks.

  Afraid it’s a trick question, I answer slowly. “I think it’s perfect.”

  “It’s settled!” Jacob claps his hands over his head. “Lies and Other Promises is the name of our EP.” He points to the door. “Let’s go give Thom the good news.”

  “Now?” Alvin casts a look at the phone. “Shouldn’t we call?”

  After twenty minutes of bickering and another ten minutes spent tracking Thom down, we file downstairs. We squeeze into Alvin’s car with me on Chaser’s lap in the passenger seat.

  “Hey!” Jacob pops his head up front. “Why couldn’t I sit on Chaser’s lap? My legs are longer than yours, Mallory.”

  “But you weigh more.” Chaser twists around to place his palm over Jacob’s face and shove him.

  “What’d you think of that chick?” Jacob pops right back into the spot like our very own Jack-in-the-Box. “Misty Stars is the girl’s name. Hot, right?”

  “The porno?” Chaser asks. “Why? You planning to stalk her?”

  “Maybe. She has the biggest set of tits I’ve ever seen on such a tiny girl.” Jacob cups his own chest to demonstrate. “It’s enough to make me want to be a one-girl man.”

  “Lucky her,” I mutter.

  Chaser can’t keep the grin off his face. He leans down to whisper in my ear, “Fucking love when you give him shit.”

  Thom’s brimming with energy when we arrive. He has his secretary bring us drinks and eagerly waves us into his office. I end up wedged between Chaser and the corner of the low, leather couch that lines one wall.

  “We’ve got a title,” Jacob announces.

  “Finally. What’d you come up with?”

  Jacob pauses and raises his hands as if he’s spelling it out in neon lights. “Lies and Other Promises.”

  Thom sits back in his cushy leather chair and nods slowly. “I like it. I’ve got some feelers out for artwork and should have some for you to look through in a couple of days. In the meantime, if you see anything, let me know.”

  The proud papa moment fades, and Thom sits forward, spearing each of the guys with a no-nonsense stare. He lingers on Jacob the longest.

  “You’re all set up at Sound World to mix the album. Please do not give Tony any grief. He squeezed you guys in as a favor to me. It should be cut and dry.”

  Famous last words, Thom, I want to say, but I keep my mouth shut.

  He’ll learn.

  Warning issued, Thom relaxes his posture. “Now, for the really good news.” He brandishes a piece of paper in front of him. “The nominations for the Small Screen Music Awards will be announced tomorrow, but I was able to procure a list in advance.”

  “Holy shit.” Jacob squirms in his seat and turns to look at his bandmates. “Did we really get nominated?”

  “You were nominated all right.” Thom sets the paper down in front of him and mutters, “I still can’t believe this.”

  “What?” Chaser sits forward.

  “Hang onto your dicks.” Thom peers over at me. “Hang onto Chaser’s dick, your name’s on here, too.”

  I’m too grossed out by the dick comment to process the rest of that.

  Chaser growls a warning. “Get to it, Thom.”

  “All right.” He winks at Alvin. “Drumroll?”

  “Just read it!” Alvin shouts.

  “Number one, Best Breakout Video for ‘Candy Jar.’ You’re up against Wishing Well and some other no-na
mes, so that should be easy.”

  “Ugh,” Jacob moans, “I don’t know how much of a compliment it is to be nominated with those assholes.”

  “Get over it.” Thom’s gaze slides to me. “Best Video Vixen for Mallory’s performance in ‘Candy Jar.’”

  “Holy shit!” Chaser squeezes me tight and kisses my cheek. “So proud of you, baby,” he whispers in my ear.

  “She’s up against that chick who cartwheels all over the Jaguars, so don’t get your hopes up.” Thom smirks.

  “Fuck that,” Alvin rumbles. “No contest. Mallory wins that one easily.”

  “Thanks, Alvin.” I reach over and squeeze his arm.

  Thom’s gaze lands on us again. “Guitar God. Chaser Adams. You’re up against Vinnie Price, so I wouldn’t get your hopes up either. But it’s an honor to be nominated alongside him. He must have four of those little statues by now. Danny Desmond from Wishing Well and Morgan Marvel from Bloody Revolver are nominated too.”

  “Damn.” Garrett whistles. “Stiff competition. Chaser’s still the best guitarist out of all of ‘em though.”

  “Fuck yeah,” Alvin cheers.

  “Thanks.” Chaser reaches over and high-fives both of them.

  “Best Heavy Metal Performance Video for ‘Candy Jar.’ It’s a new category this year. You’re up against Flying Fang, Vicious Vandals, and Fuzeboys. I think you have a shot.”

  “Whoa,” Alvin mutters.

  “And finally.” Thom drums his fingers on is desktop, “Video of the year. That’s all music genres. You’re up against Mitchell Howard —”

  “Jesus Christ, seriously?” Jacob’s wide saucer eyes are no match for my own.

  “Shooting Fences, Marilynn Starr, Penny Driver—”

  “Christ, I’d love to bone her thick, tap-dancing ass,” Garrett mutters.

  “That’s it?” Jacob cranes his neck, trying to see the list in Thom’s hand.

  “That’s not enough?” Thom throws the paper at Jacob. “I don’t think any band has had this many nominations before.”

  “Yeah, but two of them are for Mallory and Chaser.” Jacob’s eyes bug out as he scans the list of nominees in every category. “Brent for best vocalist. Over me? What kind of bullshit is that?”