Wheels of Fire (Hollywood Demons Book 3)

by Autumn Jones Lake

  “Are they really that pissed at me?” I ask Alvin.

  “You know how Jacob and Garrett are. They don’t get normal, human emotions and shit.”

  “Who am I kidding, things were starting to go off the rails before I left.”

  “True.” He pats my back. “Mallory doing okay?”

  “Yeah, she seemed to be feeling better when I left.” Getting her out of L.A. was the smart decision. “Kept her away from papers and tabloid shows.”

  He shakes his head. “Those stories were so bogus. No one believes them. You know that, right?”

  “I don’t give a fuck what anyone believes. I know the truth.”

  “Andrew’s a dick for not stepping forward and squashing the rumors immediately.”

  “Nah, that would’ve made it worse.” I snort out a humorless laugh. “Besides, now that he doesn’t need me to collaborate with and he’s not trying to worm his way into Mallory’s pants, he’s got no reason to battle the press on our behalf.”

  “Yeah, but this was really ugly.” Alvin shoves his hands in his pockets.

  “He came to visit in the hospital.”

  “Seriously? Surprised you didn’t tear off his head and use it as a bowling ball.”

  So am I. “He helped us out. Seemed sincere. I didn’t have any extra fucks to give at the time, you know?”

  “Good. Doubt we’ll be touring with them anytime soon.”

  “Amen to that.”

  “No, I mean, rumor is Vicious Vandals are breaking up. Andrew and Vinnie are fighting Kyle and Boner over rights to the band’s name and everything. It’ll probably go to court and be a huge mess from what Thom says.”

  “Holy shit, really?”

  “Yup.” He lifts his chin. “Be real with me, you think it’ll come to that for us one day?”

  Jesus, this conversation took a sharp detour. A year ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated to say no. “What makes you ask that?”

  “Ah, the old answer a question with a question. That’s not a good sign, Chaser.”

  “That’s not an answer, Alvin.”

  He stares down at the ground. “You and I have known each other a long time. I don’t want to play with anyone else.”

  I lightly punch his shoulder. “Same, brother.”

  “This isn’t me trying to guilt you.” He tips his head up and the serious expression he’s wearing seems so foreign. “It was disorienting having Nick take your place. We’re supposed to be family. The shows should’ve been cancelled so we could support you guys.”

  “Aw, fuck, brother.” I pull him in for a quick hug and pat his back. “Thanks for saying that.”

  “I mean it,” he mumbles.

  “I know you do.” I draw back, still holding onto his shoulders. “We’ve always said the show has to go on. It’s okay.”

  He nods and a hint of his usual playful grin returns. “Nick’s been shitting bricks that you wouldn’t get here tonight.”

  “Poor kid. How’d he do?”

  Alvin shrugs. “He’s not you. But he did all right. First night he played everything straight like a perfect rendition of our studio album.”

  “Yeah?” I chuckle at that, impressed he knows our material that well.

  “Next night he added his own flair.” Alvin holds up his hands. “Nothing crazy.”

  “Cool.” I’m surprised how much I’m not bothered by it. I can’t decide if it’s a sign of maturity or impending doom.

  Before the show, I find Nick backstage and thank him for filling in for me.

  “No problem, Chaser. I didn’t do your sound justice. But I tried.”

  “I’m sure you were great. I really appreciate it.”

  “Hey.” He reaches out and steps closer. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jacob and Garrett roll into the arena close to the time we’re supposed to go on stage. After skipping out on the last couple shows, I feel like I’ve lost the moral high ground so, I keep my mouth shut about it.

  Jacob wraps his fingers around my arm and drags me into a semi-quiet corner backstage.

  “What’s going on?” I shake him off, still pissed about his shitty attitude last time we spoke on the phone.

  He laces his fingers behind his head and stares up at the ceiling for a few beats.

  “Jacob?” I prompt.

  “I’m sorry.”

  My shoulders drop and I blow out a breath.

  “I’m not gonna make excuses,” he continues. “I felt like shit after we hung up but I didn’t want to make things worse.”

  “Thanks. I’m sorry it seemed like I took off in the middle of our tour. But I wouldn’t have been any good to the band.”

  “Is Mallory…” He shrugs. “Is she all right?”

  “She’ll be fine. I’m flying home tomorrow morning since we had the day off anyway. But I’ll meet up with you in Vegas and we’ll get back to normal after that.”

  “Cool.” A devilish smile curls his lips. “Not like you want to party with us anymore, anyway.”

  Shit. As soon as he says it, I flash back to what was going down when I took off. “About that, what happened? You were doing so well.”

  “Christ, Chaser. You come back to lecture me? I’m fine.”

  We need to be on stage in about five seconds, so we’ll have to argue about this another time. “No lecture, bro. Just worried about you.”

  “Worry about the show.” He flashes a crooked grin. “You don’t want us to replace you with Nick permanently, do you?”

  “Fuck off.”

  He chuckles and strolls away.

  Maybe I’m tired or still numb from everything, but an air of indifference clings to me all night. My own playing lacks any “flair” as Alvin put it.

  Afterward, Jacob’s twitchy and eager to leave the arena. I climb onto the tour bus weary and ready to crawl into my bunk and pass out.

  A short time later, the bus rolls to a stop. I pull back the curtain. “Why are we stopped?”

  Robbie shrugs at me helplessly. “Jacob said he needed something.”

  “Jesus Christ.” I slam my fist against the bottom of Alvin’s bunk.

  “What?” he groans.

  “Get up.”

  I throw on some clothes and toss Garrett’s curtain open. Empty. “Motherfuck.”

  Alvin and I peer out the window at the seedy gas station. Place doesn’t look like it’s been open for business in years. “Why here?” I ask Robbie.

  “I don’t know. He gave me the address earlier.”

  “Fuck.” I grab my small flashlight.

  Alvin and I step off the bus and stare at the building until our eyes adjust to the darkness.

  “Too fucking creepy to be a whorehouse,” Alvin quips.

  “Yeah, but perfect for a shooting gallery.”

  “Ah, fuck. He hasn’t touched smack in months.”

  We walk over the cracked blacktop, glancing at the half-assed cars thrown into random spots. An orange glow lights up the inside of one car and I stop to check if Jacob or Garrett are inside.

  “Get the fuck out of here.” A scraggly blonde girl rolls up the car window. A puff of burning chemical stench hangs in the air.

  “Shit.” Alvin grabs my arm, tugging me away from the car and toward the building. “People going in the side door.”

  Place must’ve operated as a garage at some point. Inside, people are spread out over the broken concrete floor, stained and sticky with motor oil and years of accumulated filth.

  Jacob’s off to the side, sitting cross-legged on a pile of raggedy blankets with Garrett pacing behind him.

  Ignoring the scene around us, I march over to Jacob and kick his booted foot. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “Piss off,” Jacob says in a weak imitation of Garrett’s accent. He giggles and stares up at Garrett. “How’d I do?”

  “Shitty, come on. Let’s go, fucker.” Garrett grips Jacob’s arms and attempts to lift him.

 
“No way,” Jacob argues.

  I shoot a glare at Garrett. “Why are we here?”

  He gives me a helpless shrug. “I don’t know. He was gettin’ off the bus one way or another.” He glances around the space. “I didn’t want him going alone.”

  “Fuck. Okay.” I scrub my hands over my face. “You should’ve woken me up.”

  “Number two. On the Hot 100.” Jacob thrusts two fingers near my face. “And we never properly celebrated.”

  “Seriously?” Alvin kicks Jacob’s other foot. “We had a party thrown for us. How much more do you need?”

  “Jacob, come on, let’s go.” The vibes in this place are beyond bad. I’m convinced that if I can get him back on the bus, he’ll be fine. Everything will be okay. We can forget this happened.

  “Fuck that. I’m not going anywhere.” He puts a pipe to his lips and inhales with suicidal urgency.

  “When did this start?” I ask Garrett.

  “Don’t know. The Iron Kiss guys brought some to our room one night. He’s been on about it ever since.”

  “That’s great.” So much for all the assurances Thom gave us.

  “They know how to party.” Jacob raises one fist in the air.

  I glance around the filthy old garage. “Yeah, some party.”

  His high must be fading. He looks at our surroundings and holds out his hand for Garrett to pull him up off the floor.

  “Can we go now?” Garrett begs. “Please.”

  “Let me pick up another rock.” Jacob shoves Garrett and stumbles away.

  “Don’t lose sight of him,” I warn Garrett. I slap Alvin’s chest. “Stay here. I’m gonna grab Robbie.”

  Some skinny guy’s prowling around our tour bus, testing the door. Just what we need—to get jacked in the middle of cracktown.

  “Get the fuck out of here!” I shout and the guy skitters away. I pound my fist on the door and Robbie opens it. “You need to go get Jacob. I don’t care if you have to knock him out and sling him over your fucking shoulder.”

  “Chaser, I don’t want to leave the bus here.”

  “All set!” Jacob hollers across the parking lot. He holds up a handful of clear plastic baggies. Great. Our very own pied piper about to lure all the crackheads to our bus.

  Completely stupefied about the wrong turn our night took, I just watch Jacob trip up the stairs onto the bus like it’s no big deal.

  I promised my dad and Mallory I’d be back tomorrow but now I’m afraid to leave.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Mallory

  Cool air hits my back. The bed dips. “I’m home, little dove.”

  “Chaser?” Groggy and somewhere between asleep and awake, I turn over, praying I’m not dreaming.

  “Oh!” I sit up and glance at the clock. “Wow. I only meant to take a quick nap.”

  “You need the rest.” He sits with his back against the headboard and holds out his arms. “Come here.”

  I snuggle up to him, resting my head on his chest. “When did you get here?”

  “Dad just dropped me off. Told him I’ll be by the clubhouse in a little while. Needed to see you first.”

  “How was the show?”

  “The show itself was fine.” He groans and runs his hand over his face. “Afterward was a bad mash-up of a horror flick and an after school special.”

  “Good grief.” I bite my fist after Chaser finishes his story. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” He cuddles me closer. “We still have a couple of months left. I don’t see how we finish the tour with him dragging us off to every trap house some random crackhead tells him about.”

  I squeeze his arm and run my hand up and down, hoping he won’t be offended. “Were you okay?”

  “Fuck,” he groans. “Last night was so…seedy and bizarre, partaking in any of it was the last thing on my mind.”

  “Well, I guess one good thing came out of your adventure.”

  “The only good thing. I was really torn leaving this morning. Two days off? I don’t even want to know what kind of trouble Jacob will drag them into.”

  “I wish Alvin had come home with you.”

  “I offered.” He blows out a breath. “Fuck, we have the Elimination Date premiere coming up. He’s gotta get himself in check before then.”

  “Everything’s going so good for you guys. Finally. I don’t understand—”

  “Put it out of your head.” He runs his fingers through my hair. “You have enough to worry about right now. Are you sure you’re up for this party tonight?”

  “I’ve actually been looking forward to it. I went over and helped Doe last night.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I wanted to.” I glance over at the closet. “I’m not wearing anything fancy though.”

  “It’s just a mixer. Nothing fancy required.”

  “That creep Tyler isn’t coming, is he?”

  He chuckles and presses a finger to my lips. “No, and don’t say that to anyone besides me.”

  I flick my gaze up. “I’m not stupid. You said another club was coming too.”

  “The Lost Kings MC. We’re on better terms with them. Probably because their territory’s about four hours away.”

  “Good buffer.”

  “Still, be careful. I’ll be with you most of the night. But just in case, watch who you talk to and how much information you divulge. Even innocuous conversation with their old ladies—if they bring any.”

  While things might get rowdy tonight, the clubhouse is fairly quiet when we arrive a few hours later. The visiting club only showed up with a few members. Chaser makes a few introductions before his father calls him away to help with something.

  I wander over to the bar, observing the clubhouse in its pre-party state.

  The youngest member of the visiting club ambles my way.

  “You’re the chick from the ‘Candy Jar’ video, right?” He looks me up and down in a salacious manner. The kid can’t be more than sixteen, but he already seems to be quite the sweet talker.

  “How old are you?” I ask, placing a hand on my hip.

  His mouth curls into a way-too-sure-of-himself smirk. “However old you need me to be, sweetness.”

  “You barely look old enough to drive.” It’s fun to humor him, and it certainly lifts some of the dark cloud I’ve been living under recently. But I probably shouldn’t encourage his behavior. Chaser won’t care about the kid’s age. If he finds him flirting with me, he’ll probably knock his teeth down his throat. “Either way, kid. I’m not available.”

  He runs his hand over his chin and looks me up and down again. “That’s a shame—”

  “Rock,” an older biker snaps. “What the fuck you doing, hittin’ on the future VP’s ol’ lady?” He glances down at me. “Sorry, sweetheart. I need to put a leash on this one.”

  I smile, recognizing him as the enforcer for the Lost Kings. “Hey, Grinder, right?” I jerk my chin toward the kid. “So, how old is little Romeo here?” I tease.

  “Rock,” the kid reminds me, as if I could forget. He gets cuffed on the side of the head by Grinder and a warning to be respectful.

  “What’s up?” Chaser asks, slipping an arm around me.

  I force a bright smile and pat his chest, making sure to flash my engagement ring. “Grinder was just introducing me to his…son?”

  “My club sponsor,” Rock corrects. Behind him, Grinder shakes his head and glances at the ceiling.

  “When you patching in, kid?” Chaser asks.

  “Few years,” Grinder says. “Boy’s still got a lot to learn.”

  I duck my head and chuckle. Chaser seems to pick up what was going down. He rumbles with laughter and reaches out to rough his hand over Rock’s head, drawing a scowl from the kid. Chaser leans in closer. “Seems you got lots of stuff to learn. Like, at least be old enough to shave before you hit on another man’s fiancée. Don’t you think?”

  Rock holds up his hands. “Don’
t have a cow, man.”

  Grinder smacks the kid on the back of the head and Rock has the decency to blush. “Didn’t notice the ring,” he mutters. “No disrespect intended.”

  Chaser

  This kid probably deserves an ass-kicking. I’m too amused with his brashness to dish it out, though. Grown ass men hitting on her or being disrespectful absolutely require a beating. But Mallory seemed more amused than uncomfortable by the kid’s attention. Besides, what kind of pussy does it make me if I’m intimidated by some kid flirting with my ol’ lady?

  Mallory reaches up and kisses my cheek. “I’m going to say hi to Alicia.” She smiles at Grinder and Rock. “I’ll catch you two later.”

  “Sweet girl you got there, Chaser. Where’d you two meet?” Grinder asks. The words have the flavor of fatherly curiosity more than lechery, so I don’t take offense.

  “In L.A.” I doubt Grinder knows or cares about my band, so I don’t bother explaining how we met.

  Rock glances up at his mentor. “She’s the chick from the video where they turn the fire hose on—”

  I bust out laughing. “That’s her. We met on the set of that video. No one warned her we’d be hosing her down with freezing cold water. Thought she was gonna cry.” I shrug and try to act casual about the day that changed my life for the better. “Tried to make it up to her by taking her for a ride.”

  Grinder rocks back on his heels. “Back of the bike will do it every time.”

  “Aren’t you on a tour right now?” Rock asks.

  The question stops me cold. What a shit week. “Yeah. We had a little time off. Mallory wanted to visit. My dad needed some help around here.” I shrug.

  “That’s cool.” Rock squints at me. “How you gonna be traveling with your band and be VP here?”

  Grinder elbows the kid. “Mind your business.”

  It’s a good question. One I can’t answer right now, even if I wanted to. The band’s had fun. Achieved some of what we set out to do.

  I glance around the clubhouse. This will always be home. But I’m not sure if it’s where we’re meant to be right now.

  My father opens the doors and motions for us to come inside the chapel. Grinder grips Rock’s shoulders and steers him toward the bar. “Don’t move,” he orders.