Blow My Fuse (Hollywood Demons Book 2)

by Autumn Jones Lake

  “But?”

  “This isn’t one of those cases.”

  “Your therapist, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m totally fucked in the head, dude.”

  No shit. “I don’t want to get you in trouble. You’ve got a tour coming up. You don’t need the bad press.”

  “We’ve got a tour coming up. Besides, now that I’m off coke, I need to do something to keep myself entertained.”

  “Even more reason I shouldn’t drag you into this.”

  “You’re not dragging me into anything. This girl a friend of yours?”

  “She’s Mallory’s friend, and she’s been good to her.”

  “You fuck her?”

  “Jesus Christ, what is it with you? No. Fuck no.”

  “Just trying to assess the situation.”

  “Not every decision I make has to do with my dick.”

  “So wrong, young grasshopper. All of life’s decisions are made by the dick.”

  “Maybe for you,” I mutter. “You don’t get it, but when you find the right woman, you will.”

  “I don’t need the right woman. I need the right now woman.” He takes one hand off the steering wheel and grabs his junk. “I need to come—hard, fast, and often.”

  Why am I even bothering with this conversation? “When you’re with the right person, it’s better than—”

  “Bro, what’s better than an orgasm?”

  “You’ve never really been in sync with someone so much that giving them pleasure, heightens your own? There’s more to being intimate than rutting like a fucking dog.”

  “Intimate?” Andrew scratches his head like it’s the first time he’s ever heard of the concept. “Who wants intimacy? Getting needy with a chick is like handing them a knife to carve out your insides.”

  Ah, finally a piece of the Andrew insanity puzzle.

  “It shouldn’t feel needy. Just because you’ve been hurt once—”

  “Who said anything about being hurt?”

  “The whole knife thing?”

  “Whatever.” He waves me off.

  “Pull in there.” I gesture to a gas station up ahead, eager for this conversation to be over. “That’s where I’m meeting them.”

  He guides the truck into the parking lot, and a few minutes later, two bikers rumble in.

  I step out and wave. Torrin wasn’t fucking around. He sent his SAA and another brother who easily weighs as much as Andrew and I combined.

  “Dude,” Andrew mutters under his breath. “These are biker-bikers. Like outlaw bikers. How do you know them?”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  It’s not that I’m ashamed of my MC roots. No, my desire to keep my family ties to myself stems from a need to protect my MC brothers from outsiders. Andrew has a big mouth and blabs everything to everyone. So, no, I’m not eager to tell him about my club family.

  “You can still back out,” I remind him.

  “No way, bro. I’m all in.”

  “Chaser, long time.” Freak walks over to us slowly. His expression remains blank, but his eyes never stop moving. Assessing everything around us, especially Andrew. His extreme caution is how he landed in the role of Sergeant-at-Arms for the Devil Demons. “Who’s your friend?”

  “This is Andrew. The facility’s tricky to get access to. Andrew can help us with that.”

  Andrew sticks his hand out. Both Freak and Frisco give it a withering look before Andrew withdraws. “Okay. No handshakes. That’s cool.”

  Freak snorts like a bull. “You trust this guy, Chaser?”

  I glance over at Andrew. Jesus Christ, do I really want to put my life and reputation on the line with my club by vouching for this clown?

  “Yeah, he’s cool.”

  Instead of discussing the details out in the open, the four of us pile into the truck. Apparently terrified of my biker brothers, Andrew miraculously keeps his mouth shut the entire time.

  Mallory

  “Mallory, I’m back.” Chaser’s soft whisper pulls me from sleep.

  “Chaser?” I roll over and barely make out his shadowy form in the dark. “Are you okay?”

  “Shh, don’t wake her. Go back to sleep.”

  How am I supposed to sleep now?

  Carefully, I ease out of bed. Audrey moans softly, and I pause, waiting to see if she needs anything. When she doesn’t make another noise, I tiptoe out of the bedroom.

  Chaser’s on the couch with the television on low but doesn’t seem to be watching anything. “Why are you up, little dove?” he whispers.

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about.”

  I move closer, studying him. He’s changed his clothes, so he must have stopped home. “Where’s Andrew?”

  “Home. He dropped me off at the apartment, so I could change and get my bike.”

  “What happened?”

  He sighs and drops his head, running his hands over the back of his neck. “The less you know the better.”

  My gaze zeroes in on his battered knuckles. “Chaser,” I whisper, sitting next to him, taking one of his hands in mine. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing he didn’t have coming.”

  Frustrated with his lack of answers, I let go.

  Another sigh and he wraps his arm around me, pulling me closer. “Remember how you didn’t ask questions when we were home and I went on a run?”

  “This is different. It’s not club business. And I’m involved.”

  “No, you’re not. And that’s the way I want it to stay.”

  “Chaser—”

  “Don’t ask for more answers than you can handle, Mallory.” He taps my temple. “You’ve seen enough ugliness tonight. I won’t put anymore in your head.”

  “Did anyone see you?”

  “No.”

  “Is the guy alive?”

  The long pause he takes before answering flips my stomach upside down. “Unfortunately, yes.” His gaze strays to the hallway. “Is she okay?”

  “I think so.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m still scared.”

  “Nothing’s gonna happen to me, little dove.” He kisses the top of my head. “And even if it does, at least I did the right thing.”

  “That’s not reassuring.”

  “It’s the best I’ve got.”

  “Is Andrew okay?”

  He considers that question too long for my liking. “No, he’s totally fucking insane.”

  I tap his chest. “You know what I mean.”

  “He may seem like a big goofball, but he’s hardcore.”

  I’m not sure what to make of that. “He has a big mouth. Do you trust him not to say anything?”

  “He won’t say a word.”

  After a while, we fall silent, and my eyelids start to droop.

  “Hey.” Chaser hugs me to him. “Let me tuck you back into bed. She shouldn’t wake up alone, and you need more sleep.”

  “What about you?”

  He pats the arm of the couch. “I’ll sleep out here. I’ll be fine.”

  Reluctantly, I return to the bedroom and settle in next to Audrey.

  It only seems like minutes later but has to be hours, voices from the living room wake me.

  Audrey rolls over. “Who is that?”

  “Chaser stayed over.”

  She cocks her head and listens. “That’s Doug. Did Chaser call him?”

  “I…I don’t know.”

  “Oh my God.” She whips the covers back, but a short scream stops her movements. “Fuck.”

  “Easy.”

  “Easy nothing. I’m going to kill your boyfriend.”

  Chaser

  Maybe it was shitty of me to call Doug after Audrey begged me not to. But if the guy’s going to be a coward who cuts and run, isn’t it better she finds out now?

  Turns out, Doug’s a decent guy. Ditched his meeting and came straight to the house when I told him Audrey had been hurt.

  I gave
him a vague outline of the night—Audrey can fill in the details later if she wants—but let him know the guy had been taken care of and wouldn’t be bothering Audrey again.

  “I don’t know how to thank you for taking care of her,” he says. “And how you handled…I wouldn’t have been able to do what you did. I wouldn’t even know who to ask.”

  He almost seems embarrassed, but he shouldn’t. He’s a square, squeaky clean guy. Exactly what Audrey needs and what I’ll never pretend to be. “I’d do the same for any friend.”

  “I don’t know what to do.” His gaze strays toward the bedroom. “I’ve begged her to give up the life. Promised to take her anywhere in the world she wants to go.”

  “From what I gathered, she was trying to make a clean break. It’s not her fault this guy was a psycho.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You love her, Doug?”

  “I do, but—”

  “No buts. If you love her, don’t give up on her. If you do, it’ll just reinforce everything bad she thinks about herself and what she deserves.”

  He seems to turn that over in his head. “I wanted to marry her.”

  Not liking the past tense he uses, I try again. “She expects you to leave her over this. Don’t prove her right.”

  “You know I’m so naive I really thought I was hiring a date for this stupid event I had to attend.” He shakes his head. “It took a few dates to realize…and it was too late by then.”

  “I don’t know if that’s you being naive or the universe helping two people who need each other get together.”

  He stares at me. “You’re quite a poet. I need to buy one of your albums.”

  I chuckle and slap his shoulder. “Get her out of this toxic city. At least until she’s feeling stronger.”

  “I have properties all over the world.”

  “Good. Take her someplace nice. Get her mind off of this phase of her life and focused on the next.”

  “Thank you.” He holds out his hand, and we shake. “Now, let me do something for you.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “I don’t need anything from you.”

  He tips his head toward the house. “Move in here. It’s furnished—”

  “I can’t take a house from you, Doug.”

  “I’m not handing over the deed.” He chuckles. “But you and Mallory move in and make it yours for now.”

  I doubt I can afford the normal rent he gets for this place but I have to give him something. “We’ll pay you rent.”

  “I don’t need your rent.” He holds up his hand to stop me from protesting. “You’ll save me the trouble of finding a tenant and the cost of having someone check up on the tenant and maintenance.”

  “You want us to be caretakers?”

  “Exactly.” He glances around the living room. “You made a good point. I want to focus on Audrey and what she needs right now. I can’t afford the distraction of worrying if I rented the house to some crazy person who’s going to destroy it, right?”

  Doug might not be a fighter, but he’s a skilled negotiator.

  “Deal.” I hold out my hand, and we shake again. “Thank you.”

  “Damn you, Chaser.” Audrey’s angry voice rasps from the shadows. “I told you—”

  Doug takes a few steps toward the hallway. “I’m glad he called. You think I wouldn’t want to know about this?”

  “It wasn’t your place, Chaser,” she says without acknowledging Doug.

  A shadow of doubt falls over me. But what’s done is done. “I hope you’ll forgive me one day, Audrey.”

  “Chaser?” Mallory’s disappointed voice pricks at what’s left of my conscience.

  “Let’s go,” I answer. “These two have some talking to do.”

  Doug sucks in a breath when Audrey finally steps out of the hallway. “Jesus Christ, Audrey.” His head swivels between Audrey and me. “Where is this—”

  “It’s handled, Doug. Just take care of your girl.”

  “What happened?” He cradles the side of her face not covered in bruises.

  Mallory tiptoes around the couple, but Audrey’s hand shoots out, pulling Mallory back. “Thank you,” she whispers.

  “Of course.”

  “Are you okay?” Doug asks.

  “I’ll live.”

  “Pack your stuff.”

  Audrey takes a step back. “You’re kicking me out?”

  “What? No. I’m done waiting for you to make a decision. We’re going to Paris like we talked about. End of discussion.”

  “That a boy, Doug,” I encourage.

  Mallory socks me in the gut and glares at me.

  I take her hand. “We’re leaving. If you need anything, call us.”

  “I’ll have the keys messengered over to your place when the house is ready,” Doug promises.

  “What’s he talking about?” Mallory asks.

  I lean down and kiss her temple, stopping to inhale her clean scent.

  “Big changes coming soon, little dove,” I say against her ear.

  At my bike, I stop and pull her into my arms. Holding onto her for a few seconds. Needing her close to wash away last night’s ugliness.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Mallory

  Doug moved fast. Within days, he and Audrey are on a private jet to Paris.

  Chaser and I move into the house shortly after.

  Alvin takes our move out of the apartment the hardest. He does assume our lease upstairs. So at least he has a less chaotic place to sleep now.

  My part on Shallow End has expanded into a recurring role, so Pamela and I are still driving to work together on the days we’re both filming. At least now that we live closer, I don’t feel as bad about her picking me up every morning.

  “Chaser’s in rehearsal all afternoon, right?” Pamela asks after we finish filming for the day.

  “Yes.” I planned to ask her to drop me off at the rehearsal studio, but she obviously has other ideas in mind.

  “Let’s go dress shopping! You’re up for Video Vixen. So, you need something extra-hot for the awards show.”

  “I have time to find the right dress.” Honestly, I’ve been so consumed with the new job, moving into the house, and worrying about Chaser leaving for tour, that I haven’t given the awards show a lot of thought.

  “If you wait too long, you’ll be left with bedsheets for a dress.” She curls her arm around mine and marches me out to her car. “We’ll have fun. Promise.”

  “Okay.” Not that another answer seems to be an option here. “My agent said a few people contacted her about loaning me a dress.”

  “Pssh,” she waves off my comment. “I know people too.”

  “Is Andrew excited about his nomination?”

  She frowns at me for a second before answering. “He’s already won like twenty times. It’s more of an excuse to show off at this point. It’s a bigger deal for Chaser.” She squeezes her eyes shut tight for a few seconds. “And I really hope he kicks Vinnie’s ass.”

  “I think he was just excited to be nominated with Vinnie.”

  “You don’t always have to be so diplomatic, Mallory.”

  “I’m not.”

  She starts the car and reverses out of the parking spot. “How can you be dating a rock star for this long and still be such a good girl?”

  “I don’t know about that.” I snort-laugh. “Chaser’s worked that out of me.”

  “Mallory! I’m shocked.” She hesitates for a second. “Wait a minute. How many other boyfriends have you had?”

  My cheeks warm. I hate when people ask personal questions. “He’s my first.”

  “Wait. First official boyfriend? First long-term boyfriend? First live-in? What kind of first are we talking about?”

  “Everything.”

  She slams on the brake, whipping my body forward.

  “Get out of here,” she says in a low, dramatic voice.

  I glance out the window over the studio parking lot. We’re blocking the flow
of traffic, but Pamela doesn’t seem to notice or care.

  “Pamela,” I plead. “Let’s go.”

  “Sorry.” She shakes her head fast and steps on the gas. “How is that possible?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t allowed to date back home.”

  “Neither was I. Still lost my virginity at fourteen. That’s what sneaking out is for.”

  “Trust me, there was no sneaking out of my father’s house.”

  “What is he, like a warden or something?”

  I cough into my fist. “Not at all.” Spilling my love life to her is bad enough, there’s no way I’ll tell her how my father makes his living.

  “Damn. And Chaser’s not wigged out by that?”

  “By what?”

  “Oh, God, is he one of those freaks with a virgin fetish?”

  “No,” I snap, annoyed she’d suggest that.

  “Sorry. Some men are obsessed with shit like that.”

  Our weird conversation is mercifully cut short when she pulls into a dress shop parking lot. “This is it!”

  Every dress Pamela picks out looks more like lingerie than something I’d wear to an awards show.

  “It’s the Small Screen Music Awards. You’re supposed to wear something daring and edgy,” she says.

  “Then, won’t it be daring to show up in an evening gown?”

  She screws up her pretty face into a frown at my logic. “No.”

  The dress she ends up choosing is a mix of see-through nylon and leather. I gravitate toward a floor-length, metallic gold beaded gown in the back.

  “Who are you, Melanie Griffith on her wedding day?” Pamela plucks at one thin, off-the-shoulder cap sleeve. “This isn’t the Oscars, Mallory. Far from it.”

  “But it’s so pretty.”

  “You’ll look like something between Scarlett O’Hara and a gold disco ball.”

  “I’m pretty sure one of my Barbies had this exact same dress when I was little.” I press it to my chest and twirl around, ignoring Pamela’s exasperation.

  “It’s very old Hollywood glamour,” the shop owner assures me.

  “You’re supposed to help me talk her out of it,” Pamela complains.

  “Nope,” I smile at her, “This is the one.”