Blow My Fuse (Hollywood Demons Book 2)
Page 32
“So stay and watch,” he pleads.
“Chaser and I have other plans.”
I smirk and shrug at him.
“Go bang in your dressing room, then come back and watch.”
We don’t bother replying. Instead, I take Mallory around and introduce her to different people. Fans waiting in the hallway to talk to us rush forward, and I sign a few autographs.
The noise from the crowd out in the arena intensifies. “Do you want to watch them?” I ask Mallory.
“I’m curious, but still mad.”
“So, we won’t watch the whole show.”
We wander back to the spot that will give us the best view of the stage.
“Awe-some,” Andrew says. “You’re gonna watch?”
Mallory crosses her arms over her chest. Unfortunately, instead of stern, it just makes her sexier. “Not for you.”
“How about now?” He whips off his white shorts and tosses them aside, leaving him in one of his famous leather cock hammocks. Tonight, it’s red leather. Not an improvement.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter.
“It’s hot.” He angles both his hands, palm up, toward his dick. “Besides, it showcases my goods.”
Mallory blinks and stares. “It’s not as flattering as you think it is.”
“What are you talking about?” He waves her off and starts jumping around, pumping himself up for their show.
A grown man jumping around in nothing but leather underwear is disturbing as fuck to witness.
“Aren’t you glad I always keep my pants on?” Alvin jokes.
“Yes.”
The lights over the audience go down, and the screams intensify. Andrew runs out first, climbing up behind his massive drum kit.
“He really is amazing to watch,” Alvin says.
“You’re amazing to watch.” Mallory pats his shoulder. “No one could ever replace you as my favorite drummer.”
“Aw, thanks, Mal.”
Her gaze scans the hallway, landing on two girls in Vicious Vandals T-shirts. “You know, the pretty dark-haired one asked me about you earlier.”
Alvin follows her line of sight. “Pass. Saw her deep-throat Andrew last night.”
Mallory wrinkles her nose.
“Nice try,” I whisper in her ear.
A steady thumping comes from the stage. Vinnie hurries past us, followed by Kyle and Boner, who’ve barely spoken a word to us this whole tour.
In between songs, Andrew’s tour manager approaches us. “They want you guys to join them for ‘We Die Young’ tonight. That cool?”
“Really?” I search the area for Darren and motion for him to bring my guitar. “Yeah, of course.”
Sure enough, a few songs later, Kyle calls us out on stage.
Mallory bounces up and down and hugs me.
Garrett strolls up and shakes his head when I ask where Jacob is. “His throat’s bothering him.”
“Sure.”
The crowd goes nuts when we join Vicious Vandals on stage. Vinnie and I riff out a dueling guitar solo completely off the cuff. Excitement pounds through my veins. Talk about a rush. Vinnie launches into “We Die Young,” and I try to follow his lead, without stepping on his toes. Behind me, Alvin bangs a tambourine around. Garrett seems to be as overloaded as I am. He keeps missing notes, and I know damn well he has this song memorized.
Finally, the song closes. The lights go down. The crowd keeps chanting.
Vinnie high-fives me. Kyle actually shakes my hand and thanks me for coming out.
“That was rad!” Alvin laughs, as he catches up to me.
“Don’t start that rad shit with me.” I shove him, and he laughs harder.
“That was so good!” Mallory hugs both of us, after Darren takes my guitar again. “Is that the first time you’ve gone on stage with them?”
“Yup,” Alvin answers. “Guess that’s why Andrew kept asking us to stick around.”
Mallory lifts her gaze to mine. “Now I can’t even be mad at him.”
“Sure you can.” I sling my arm over her shoulder.
Yeah, Andrew tried to do a nice thing, but I’m sick and tired of the back and forth with him. One minute he’s a dick, the next he’s our benevolent benefactor.
Makes it hard to decide if I want to shake his hand.
Or murder him.
Chapter Sixty-Two
Mallory
Where the heck is Chaser? After a brief celebration with the guys, we came back to our room. As we were falling asleep, Jacob called with some emergency.
Chaser gave me a quick kiss and told me to go back to sleep.
As if I could sleep.
I glance over at the clock. He’s been gone for hours.
As much as I can’t stand Peter, I call down to his room. “Peter, have you heard from the guys?”
“Christ, Mallory. It’s two in the morning. They probably found some groupies.”
Gee, thanks.
By eight o’clock, I’m beyond worried.
Nine o’clock.
Ten o’clock.
The phone rings, and I hurry to answer it.
“Hello?”
The line crackles. “Mallory, it’s Pamela.”
“Pamela! What’s going on? Where are you?”
“In L.A. Are you still with the guys?”
“Yes, we’re in Texas.” While it’s not unusual for her to call me, she’s the last person I expected to hear from this morning. I’m too jittery for social niceties “What’s up?”
“What’s up?” she parrots back. “Are you fucking kidding?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Were you there when it happened?”
My anxiety over Chaser’s absence shoots through the roof. “There, when what happened?”
“It’s all over the news about Andrew.”
A boulder of dread settles in my stomach. “What news?”
“Someone shot him.”
“What? Oh my God. Where?” The phone beeps. Desperate for information about Chaser, I click over to the incoming call, without saying goodbye to Pamela.
“Mallory?” Chaser’s strained voice crackles over the line.
“Chaser! Where are you? Oh my God. Are you okay?” Was he with Andrew? Was he hurt, too?
In a low, desperate voice, he says, “Mallory, I need you to call my dad for me.”
“What? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Where are you? Pamela called and said someone shot Andrew. That’s crazy.” A hollow laugh escapes me as I reach for the remote to switch on the television.
The line’s silent, and I’m afraid he hung up. “Chaser?”
“I’m at the county jail.”
“Jail? What happened?”
“Mallory, I can’t talk long. I need you to call my father. You and I won’t have enough to cover the bail. If they give me bail.”
A thousand memories of my father calling me after the FBI took him into custody pummel me in the chest. “Chaser, what are you talking about?”
My scared mind can’t connect the dots fast enough.
“Have him wire the money.”
“What money? Chaser, what’s going on?” Terror claws through my insides.
“He’ll know how to get a hold of an attorney for me too. Are you listening, Mallory? I don’t have much longer.”
“Yes.” Tears run down my cheeks. “What’s going on?” I whisper.
I saw the news about Andrew. Pamela’s words echo in my mind a second before Chaser responds.
“Someone shot Andrew. And the cops think it was me.”
Mallory and Chaser’s journey concludes in
Wheels of Fire.
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About the Author
Autumn Jones Lake is the USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of over twenty novels, including the popular Lost Kings MC series. She believes true love stories never end.
Her past lives include baking cookies, bagging groceries, selling cheap shoes, and practicing law. Playing with her imaginary friends all day is by far her favorite job yet!
Autumn lives in upstate New York with her own alpha hero.
www.autumnjoneslake.com