Rising West: A Turner Artist Rocker Novel (The Turner Artist Rocker Series Book 1)

by Alyson Santos

  “No, she’s home in L.A. with Rose and Gary. She’s doing great, though.”

  A genuine smile lights up her face, and I think about Katrina’s words in my dream. Heather was definitely a light in our world when we needed it.

  “That’s so great, Mason. I miss her.”

  “She misses you, too.” I pull an envelope from my pocket. “Look. You helped us through a really hard time in our lives. I don’t even know how I would have survived if you hadn’t been there for Brooklyn. I always felt terrible about how things ended and that I could never pay you what you deserved—”

  “Mason, stop. Don’t.” She holds up her hand. “I didn’t do it for the money. I loved watching Brooklyn. You know that. And…” She glances toward the back bedroom, a sudden smile peeking out. “You were right about us. It wasn’t meant to be. I love Pete. He’s a great guy.”

  I breathe out a sigh and return her smile. “He seems great. And I’m so happy you’re happy. You deserve it. But I need to do this. If not for you, then for me. Please accept this as a thank you for being a light in our lives at a really dark time.” I hand her the envelope and hold my breath as she stares at it.

  “What’s this?”

  “Just something I can afford now that I couldn’t then.”

  She tears open the envelope and pulls out the check, her eyes widening in shock. “Oh my god! Mason, no.” She folds the paper and tries to hand it back to me. I shake my head, stuffing my hands in my pocket to prevent any kind of return.

  “You’ve been following the news. You know I can afford it.”

  “It’s ten thousand dollars!”

  I shrug and lift a smirk.

  She shoves my shoulder, then settles back into stunned silence. Tears well in her eyes as she studies the check. “But why does this say Liberty Blake?”

  “Oh, well, I didn’t have any checks with me and I wanted to give this to you in person while I was here. She did have one so I’m borrowing the money until we get back.”

  She wipes her eyes. Soon her arms are around my neck, and I squeeze her back.

  “Heather. You have no idea how much I have to do this right now.”

  She nods against my shoulder, and I pull her in for one last hug.

  “Fine,” she says, sniffing. A mischievous smile plays on her lips. “But only as a favor to you.” After another pause, she steps back and stares up at me. Her smile widens to a grin, and she shakes her head. “Look at you, Mason West. Maybe you’re finally starting to figure out what we all knew ages ago.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Blank page two.

  LIBERTY

  It’s good to be home. Especially when you get a front row seat to what that means for a newly transformed father and his adoring little girl. Mason drops his carryon to the ground and falls to his knees when he spots Brooklyn running toward him at the airport. Arms outstretched, he captures her against his chest and holds on with a desperation that takes my breath away. I see the glisten in his eyes before he hides his face in her hair. The little girl can’t possibly understand the power of this reunion. I swipe my sleeve across my eyes, ignoring Aaron’s smirk beside me.

  “Softie,” he mutters.

  “Shut up.” I smack his chest, and he laughs.

  Rose and Gary hang back as well, observing the moment with delight. Brooklyn is a lucky girl to be surrounded by so much love, and I shudder through a wave of relief at the thought that we almost didn’t bring her father home to her.

  “Ms. Lie-berry!” Brooklyn calls out after spotting me over Mason’s shoulder.

  Fresh tears collect in my eyes when he lowers her to the ground and lets her rush over to me. I bend down just in time to catch the little fireball that comes launching at my chest.

  “Ms. Lie-berry! Did you know one day I can go on an airplane again? I flewed on one last year.”

  “Last year, huh?” I remember from previous conversations that everything happened “last year” with Brooklyn. I love that I know her well enough to know that. “Was it a big one?”

  “So big! But not as big as the moon. Did you know some airplanes go to the moon? They’re called space planes.”

  “Huh.” I scoop her up and start toward her waiting family, leaving Aaron and the guys to grumble about the bags. The older couple has Mason cornered, and he keeps swatting away Rose who seems intent on finding a malady the doctors missed.

  “You look pale, sweetie. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “I’m fine,” Mason says, the hint of a smile creeping onto his lips.

  “He does. I agree, Rose. Also, we’re starving. Can we take you all out to dinner on the way home?”

  “Yay! I want an-spare-a-gus and the fancy chicken!” Brooklyn cries, clapping and bouncing in my arms.

  I can barely hold on as I glance over at Mason for clarification.

  He grins and slides his arm around me. “Asparagus and filet mignon. You’re buying, right?”

  With dinner complete, Brooklyn in bed, and the rest of the adults settled into their respective activities for the night, Mason and I are free to do the one thing we’ve never done together: just exist. No drama, no agenda, no scorching chemistry trying to rip us apart, just the two of us and a quiet moon.

  We walk hand in hand near his building, enjoying the peace of not talking and not battling demons for once. In fact, there’s even a smile on his face when I peek up at him, one of many glimpses I steal in the silence. He’s impossible not to look at, and when his gaze catches me in the act, I don’t even try to pretend differently. I just enjoy watching his smile widen and feeling the pressure of his hand tighten around mine.

  He leads us to a bench near a small playground and pulls me down beside him to settle in. It’s empty at this hour, but I immediately imagine Brooklyn laughing her way through the maze of colorful equipment. Is it weird that I see myself supervising and playing along? Butterflies brush through me at the thought of sitting here with Mason and Brooklyn one day. Could I ever be so lucky?

  “I’m sorry about Pennsylvania,” Mason says quietly.

  I tilt my head up from its perch on his shoulder. His expression isn’t tortured or hard this time, just thoughtful as he studies the playground.

  “I shouldn’t have left like that. It wasn’t you, or Aaron. It was just…” His words trail off as he blinks and shifts his gaze to the ground. “I get lost sometimes, Liberty.” My chest clenches at the pain in his voice, but I remain silent. After a long pause, he continues.

  “I can’t promise it won’t happen again. Just know that it’s not really what I want, no matter what it seems like when the lies take over. I don’t want to stop trying. I never want to stop.”

  I pull in a ragged breath, clinging harder to his arm. He kisses my head and tucks me firmly against him. We sit like that for a while. Entwined, warm, and drenched in moonlight. I’ve never realized how bright a moon can actually be. Maybe that’s what happens when you’re sitting next to the sun.

  I look up, deciding I can’t keep the question to myself anymore. I’ve asked it before. I’ll ask it again. I’ll keep asking until he understands how much he means to me.

  “What do you want, Mason?”

  I feel the shift in his position when he looks down in surprise. That’s right, Mason West. You’re my sun too.

  “Everything,” he says finally, and I hear the light break through in his tone this time. “I want everything.”

  After the whirlwind of the past few weeks, the band shares a silent pact to tune out any extraneous distractions and focus on the music when we meet for rehearsal the following day. It feels so good to be on stage again and settle into the security of our instruments. Even Tivo bobs with extra energy during our run-through of ‘Seaside Serenade’ to get a soundcheck. With the air already charged and spiking around us, I sense the hunger for an explosive masterpiece. That’s how I know it’s time. Our song has been waiting for a moment like this.

  “You ready to show them ‘Still Breath
ing?’” I direct to Mason.

  “Yes, finally! Thank god,” Aaron quips from behind the kit.

  I roll my eyes at him before turning my attention back to Mason.

  Our frontman grips the mic stand, sending me a look filled with unspoken words.

  Still Breathing. We are, aren’t we?

  My heart aches at the thought. He almost wasn’t. I don’t know if I could live in that world, and maybe I start to understand what happened to his when he lost Katrina. I force an encouraging smile and fight the urge to rush over and wrap my arms around him.

  He needs this song more than anything right now. Maybe I do too, and excitement starts to blossom inside me at the expression on his face. Those sea-green eyes are saturated with emotion and the tragic, complex journey I can’t wait to hear in the music.

  Mason pulls in an audible breath and settles into position with his guitar. It’s a stunning transformation to watch, like gravity lifts from his world the second he starts to play. He’s suddenly in the cosmos, floating beyond us all in a place where the weight of existence falls away.

  “Feeling awake again

  Feeling the rush of knowing

  when to lead and when to stay behind

  Feeling a breeze again

  Feeling the secrets when

  They burst to light, freeing me to fly.”

  His gaze locks on me, a targeted smile blooming on his face as he sings the next part.

  “And I want to get to know you when I’m blind

  Get to know you when I’m losing ground, searching for the light

  And I want to get to know you when I’m high

  Get to know you when the sun breaks through to pierce a broken sky.”

  By the chorus, the rest of us can’t stand to be sidelined any longer. Aaron starts driving with a steady beat, and Mason calls out the key so Mitch and Tivo can join in as well.

  “And I’m, I’m still breathing for today, breathing for today

  And I’m, I’m still feeling for today, keeping one more day for us.”

  During the turn between the chorus and verse two, Mason swaps out his acoustic guitar for the electric. I totally agree. This song is quickly morphing from sweet acoustic ballad to full-on rock anthem. He crosses back to the mic just in time for the second verse. Leaning into the mic, he continues adjusting the strap of his electric while he sings.

  “Feeling the pain again

  Feeling no answers when

  I fall behind, refuse to walk the line

  Feeling the walls cave in

  Feeling the end is dragging

  Just enough to keep me out of sight.”

  At the second prechorus we’re on fire. Tivo’s already on to a killer lick for the bassline. Aaron’s locked into a solid progressive rock rhythm on drums, while Mitch and Mason are at freaking Disneyland together up front on their electrics. I pull in an aggressive synth sound for a lead-line that just popped into my head. Then I add a full pad to fill in the remaining space in the room. Mason nods over in approval, while he launches into the vocal.

  “And I want to get to know you when I’m far

  Get to know you when I’m tracing scars and love breaks down the door

  And I want to get to know you when I’m yours

  Get to know you when your star breaks through and pulls me to your sky.”

  By the final choruses we are locked in. Flying high and transported to the place every musician strives to reach and remain for as long as possible. That place where you all know at the same moment that you found it, whatever it is to your band. And right now we’ve found, bottled, and sold it as the future of our music. We all instinctively know something magical is happening, so when I lean toward my mic and start harmonizing with Mason, it’s like a cataclysmic shift rocks us into a whole new future.

  “And I’m, I’m still breathing for today, breathing for today

  And I’m, I’m still feeling for today, keeping one more day

  And I’m, I’m still breathing

  I’m still breathing

  I’m still breathing.”

  Mason’s grin when he hears my voice... It shines back at me, explodes my walls, lifts a curtain. Makes me believe again. It takes me across time and space, to heights I never dreamed of in a sky I didn’t see until he entered my life. And in that blinding flash of radiance, I realize what I just saw wasn’t a smile. It was a sunrise. From the West.

  EPILOGUE

  Dear Diary,

  Is that how you start these things? Katrina never did. She just began talking as if you already knew her. You don’t know me, though, so hello. I’m Mason West, twenty-four, and kind of a mess but I’m trying.

  A lot has changed since she wrote to you. How do you summarize four years into one story? I’m not sure I can, so I’ll go straight to the present instead. For example, how about the fact that I’m writing to you from the bunk of a tour bus? Me, Mason West, who less than a year ago was performing for a few bar patrons at The Fat Eagle, is now headed to an arena in Dallas as the frontman of a headlining rock band. Me, the man whose legacy as a songwriter consisted of being a victim of theft, now has writing credits on three top ten alternative rock singles and an album that’s about to go platinum. But most importantly, I just got off the phone with an incredible little girl who killed it at her first day of kindergarten. I can’t wait to fly home this weekend to spend our break together. She doesn’t know this yet, but one of Santa’s associates is delivering a princess bed a few months early. Also, it’s totally obscene.

  Then there’s Liberty. If you and I stay in touch, I’m sure you’ll be hearing a lot about her over the coming years. There’s so much I could say, but really, I can sum it up in one image: Brooklyn and Liberty’s laughter when they’re together. Brooklyn asked the other day if she could call her Mama Lib, then got really confused when the adults started to cry. Moments like that make you think you have a chance at this journey of life.

  It’s been rough, but then, who has an easy road worth traveling? All I know is that a year ago I thought the sun had disappeared. Now I see it was just an eclipse.

  So this is me, Diary, or Journal, or God, or whoever you are, telling you that I’m here and I’m ready. I’m going to fucking try until I bleed. Hope you’re watching tomorrow when we take the stage and show the world what a real Western Sunrise looks like.

  Still breathing.

  MASON

  “Hey, you okay?” Liberty whispers, peeking past the curtain of my bunk.

  “Yeah, fine,” I say with a quick smile.

  She eyes the notebook I close and tuck under my pillow. “I saw the light on. Didn’t know you journaled, West.”

  “I didn’t.”

  She nods, her expression heating up the longer she studies me. “So…”

  I’m used to that look now, and my blood grows more violent in my veins. “So…”

  “I think the others are sleeping.” She lifts a brow and nods toward the private lounge in the back of the bus.

  “Yeah? You want to play X-Box or something?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Get your perfect ass down here. It’s been torture watching you and not being able to get near you in days.”

  “Rehearsals were a bitch.”

  “Yeah and we need to fix this before tomorrow’s show if I’m going to concentrate.”

  I slip down from my bunk with a chuckle, careful not to disturb Mitch who’s snoring underneath. Liberty is already in the back, looking as pissed and impatient as I’ve ever seen her by the time I join her; I can definitely work with this. Part of me wants to pounce on her as well. Another part can’t stop thinking about a certain bowtie that made for a very memorable private afterparty.

  “Oh, hey, did you see the message from Sam?” I ask, maintaining a straight face as I pull out my phone. After dropping to the couch, I scroll for the email and prop my feet on a small end table.

  “Are you serious right now?” she hisses. Her t-shirt is already on the flo
or and—shit. My dick is right there with her. Too bad I’m a man of otherworldly self-discipline.

  “Yeah, she says it’s almost a hundred percent certain that Eastern Crush’s label is going to settle. With Rob facing prison after his conviction, they don’t want any more negative publicity. They just want this to go away, so the lawyers think we should have an offer in the next week or so.”

  “Yeah, I read the damn email, West.” Her jeans slide off too. Now I’m stuck in the shadow of a gorgeous, angry goddess wearing nothing but black lace panties. Black lace panties! She never bothers with that sexy shit, which means she’s been plotting this seduction at least since she got dressed this morning. The blood pressure kicks up to the next level, and I adjust my position to hide how much I’m suffering.

  “They think we could be talking seven figures, maybe eight, given the level of damages and the blatant nature of the theft. Now that the other guys have stepped up to corroborate my story, there’s not much of a case for them.”

  “Yeah, I know. I read the damn email, West.”

  “Right. Also… I was thinking. You know how we’re covering Night Shifts Black’s ‘Metamorphosis’ halfway through the first—”

  “Oh my god.” She lunges at me and shoves her hand over my mouth. I laugh through her fingers, quickly losing my edge when her other hand slips into my sweatpants.