I tried not to look at Gale when I turned around, but trying and achieving that feat were separate things. There was something about him that kept drawing me.
Gale’s expression was hard, as I suspected it would be. He probably thought I’d deceived him, that Tyler and I were together, and who the hell knew what else.
“Can you give me a ride?” I asked Marsha.
My voice was tight, registering the strain of Gale’s disapproval, but I shouldn’t have let it bother me. I was accustomed to people forming an opinion about the type of person I was without seeking the deeper truth, but I’d somehow hoped for better from him.
“What about your van?” she asked.
“Dolly’s driving it to Amarillo, where the tour bus will stop for our bus driver to rest overnight. I can take a Dart bus to where I need to go, but I’ll have to transfer and add a delay that will get me in more trouble than I already am.”
“I don’t have a car.” Marsha shook her head. “Someone dropped me off here. But Ivan came in his Firebird. I can probably borrow it.”
“Could you?” I asked, hating that she’d have to ask her boyfriend for his car. “Would you mind asking?”
“I wouldn’t mind at all.”
She touched my arm and held my gaze for a significantly long moment. Both the touch and the eye contact conveyed her support. I was grateful for it, more grateful than she knew, but I didn’t let on.
“I’ll be right back,” she told me before turning away.
“Thanks,” I whispered, my gaze following her rather than acknowledging the two men I was left alone with.
“Why go with Marsha?” Tyler said. “I can take you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. If he gave me a ride, he would probably use the time to interrogate me about Gale. I wanted to avoid that subject until the lead singer of Anthem and I could get our stories straight. There was no way I wanted Tyler or anyone else on the tour, other than my own bandmates, to know anything about my grief counseling sessions and what had prompted them.
I sneaked another glance at Gale, hoping to find some softness to encourage me. But his expression remained closed off, like it had been since I denied knowing him. His silence was likely going to cost me, if I could even gain it.
I refocused on Tyler. He was a known quantity, and therefore easier to deal with. “You told me Ivan wanted you back at the house tonight. You’re recording the new material, right?”
Tyler shrugged. “So I’ll be a little later than he wants.”
“You might want to clear that with him. Being late and borrowing his car. Because if you plan to take me,” I gestured to the merch bins, “I have all this stuff. I can’t carry it and hold on to you on the Harley.”
“Shit.” Tyler’s eyes narrowed to slits. He loved Ivan, and the brotherly affection was definitely mutual, but I didn’t think his best friend and roommate had ever loaned him his vintage car.
“No harm in me asking.” He reached for my arm. “But come with me while I do.”
“No, you go ahead. It’ll probably be better if you ask him without me. He’s not my biggest fan.” I stepped back. “Besides, I need to gather my things.”
“All right.” Tyler kissed me hard, glanced at Gale one more time, and moved away.
“I’ll help you,” Gale said softly, his low voice doing things to me that I needed to train myself to ignore.
“That would be great.” I forced a smile. “It’s a lot for one person.”
Gale slipped past me, scooped up the bins, and straightened with both of them stacked on top of each other. “This all of it?”
“Yes.” I could barely see his face through the blue plastic, but who needed to see his handsome face with all those powerful muscles flexing? “About earlier, I wanted to ex—”
“Nothing happened earlier,” he said quickly, his words sharp.
“I know nothing did. It’s just that nobody knows—nobody on the tour—about me and all the AA stuff.” My eyes burned. It was so much more than just that. “Please don’t say anything. It’s none of their business, really. None of it affects how I do my job.”
“The past is passed?”
“Yes.” Only it wasn’t. It never would be. Not for me.
“Bullshit.”
“Yeah, it’s always there,” I said without thinking, the telling words slipping from my lips. “Everything I lost. Every time I close my eyes, I see it, feel the weight of it. I never knew how heavy something that isn’t there anymore could be.”
“I won’t say anything to anyone,” Gale said softly. “If . . .”
He let that one word hang in the air like black-and-yellow caution tape around a crime scene.
Oh shit.
Stepping closer, he added, “If you promise to go for a ride with me.”
“THANKS FOR DOING THIS,” I told Marsha as she capably steered Ivan’s Firebird out of its parking space at the bar.
“No, thank you.” She grinned at me. “I’ve been dying to drive his car again. You gave me the perfect excuse. Good thing I got to him before Tyler did.” She braked at the edge of the road. “Where to?”
“The Holiday Inn Express in Roanoke.”
“Off I-35? Near the racetrack?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah. Is that too far for you to take me?”
“No. It’s only about thirty minutes away, right?”
“Everything’s about that distance away in the Metroplex.”
“We hope it’s only that far,” Marsha said. “Depends on traffic. This late, we could get detoured by nighttime freeway construction.”
She glanced both ways before inching slowly out onto the heavily trafficked street, putting me more at ease with her caution than I usually was at night with someone else driving me.
“I didn’t think of that possibility.” Fretting about potential extra delay, I bit my lip.
No matter what Tyler had said, he didn’t have as much clout as he believed. Ronald was definitely going to give me grief. I certainly wasn’t earning points with him or the rest of the crew when the guy I was fucking insisted on me being given special treatment.
“I think I know the best way to go.” Marsha gave the muscle car some gas, enough of a punch that the horsepower surge pressed me back into the firm leather seat. “But do you mind putting it in Google Maps on your phone?” In the glow from the dash lights, I could tell she gripped the leather-wrapped wheel competently. “Just to be certain.”
“No problem.” My hands shook a bit as I cradled my phone and glanced away from the road to look at the app. Night driving triggered my anxiety.
“You okay?” Seeming to sense my unease, she reached across the center console and covered one of my hands with hers.
“I’m fine.” I wasn’t, really, but I managed to input the hotel. The route guidance engaged, spitting out the next turn.
“Truly?” She removed her hand and flicked on the blinker. “That was a pretty intense scene with Tyler and Gale.”
“How so?” I asked, wondering how much I’d given away.
“Well, you don’t have to tell me anything, of course. But it seems pretty obvious to me that you and Gale know each other more intimately than you explained.”
I let out a shaky sigh. “Not really.”
One mistake, one moment of weakness, and now I was indebted to Gale in exchange for his silence. And now two other people also had their suspicions—the inquisitive woman beside me, and Tyler, who wasn’t as dense as I wanted to believe.
“Do your bandmates know the specifics?”
“Specifics about what?” My voice squeaked, betraying me.
“About you and Gale?” She glanced at me before gunning the engine to enter the freeway.
“There is no me and Gale.”
“You’d better work on that denial if you want people other than me to believe you.”
“I ran into him today. That’s all.” Maybe if I gave her a little of the truth, she would let it go. “I just wante
d to avoid everyone making a big deal about it. Especially Tyler. He thinks there’s more between us than there really is.”
“Tyler’s going to be a problem for you. He’s not going to be put off as easily as he was tonight.”
“I know.” My head started to throb, and I reached up to massage my temples. But I knew from experience that stressors like today were a trigger. A migraine was coming.
Marsha let out a slow breath. “Honey, listen. I’m not saying all of this to give you a hard time. It’s just a friendly heads-up from one girlfriend to another. From someone who’s been there and had a tough time because of it.”
She gave me a sad look. “Gale’s a public figure. His manager put out a statement about where he went today, what he said in his speech, even the song he played. I don’t know what you were doing at an AA meeting. That’s your business. But pictures were probably taken, and somebody had to have seen the two of you.”
When I drew in a sharp breath, she reached over to pat my thigh.
“So if you’re a private person, or if you have something in your past you don’t want known, I suggest you run—not walk—away from the Rock Fuck Club opportunity I mentioned to you, and that you rethink your current profession. Being on reality TV will lay you bare,” she said, giving me a pointed glance, “in more ways than one. And nothing stays a secret when you’re hanging around rock stars.”
IN MY BUNK ON the tour bus, with the curtain closed and the interior light off, I slid the Ziploc bag filled with ice chips into a better position over my eyelids, hoping the cold treatment and ibuprofen would be enough to ward off a full-blown migraine.
But I wasn’t counting on it.
The crew had given me the stink eye when I finally arrived. Delaying the bus departure was serious business, which Ronald reminded me repeatedly as he’d laid into me. That, added to all the other events of the evening—performing at the bar, Ivan’s sobering commentary, and Marsha’s warning—didn’t lend themselves to me being successful sleeping off my headache.
The throbbing continued. The pain felt like a sharp spike being driven into my brain.
Migraines were residual effects from the concussion I’d sustained nearly five years ago. The doctors said the blow to my head had irritated damaged pathways that would likely never fully heal. It was something I just had to deal with that was much less significant than all the rest.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I didn’t want to look at the display. Migraines made me photosensitive, and the light would be too bright.
But the caller refused to be ignored.
My cell buzzed again. And again.
Holding the ice bag in place, I dug in my pocket with my other hand as I cursed under my breath.
“Hello,” I said groggily, not really caring who it was or what they wanted, my headache was that bad.
“What the hell, Jo?” Dolly screeched into my ear, and I cringed. “When were you planning to tell me you’re on the bus? You are finally on the bus, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I rasped.
“You don’t sound good. You never are good after one of the counseling sessions. You put me off about how it went earlier, but I’m not letting you do that any longer. Talk. Say something, already.”
“I will if you’ll pause to take a breath and let me get a word in.” When she didn’t respond, I continued. “I’m in my bunk. I’m sorry I forgot to check in with you. There were complications after the show, and now I have a migraine.”
“Oh, Jo.” Dolly’s voice went sweet and soft, just like it did when she crooned the one and only love song in our band’s set list, a sad one she’d written herself. “Can you sleep it off?”
“Not yet. It hurts too much.”
“Want a distraction?”
“Yes, please.”
“I wish I was there to stroke your back. That usually helps you.”
“I wish you were here to do that too.”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “Well, we rocked it hard tonight.”
“I’m not so sure. Not according to Ivan.”
She scoffed. “He’s a heavy-metal dude. We’re not heavy metal.”
“I know,” I said. “But he’s experienced.”
“Experience isn’t everything.”
“No, it’s not, but he has a practiced ear.”
“Maybe.”
She was quiet, and I could hear the twins, Lark and Linnet, murmuring in the background. Peaceful, soothing, familiar sounds. The closest thing I had to a family anymore.
“Are y’all in a safe place?” I asked, loneliness piercing my heart.
“We made it to Amarillo. I found an abandoned skate park close to a nice neighborhood. I think we’ll be okay staying here overnight without anybody hassling us. But it’s hotter than a mo-dog with the air-conditioning off and the windows down. And it smells like a cattle pen whenever the wind kicks up.”
“I’m glad you’re done driving for the night.” I wanted them off the road as much as we could arrange it at night. I couldn’t sleep until I knew the van was parked and my bandmates bedded down safely.
“Love you, Jo.”
“Love you too, doll.”
“Is it better yet? Your headache?”
“A little.”
“Good. Can I tell you something?”
“Sure.”
“I think I know what Ivan meant when he said we’re uneven. My voice isn’t strong enough except in harmony with yours. You need to take the lead on vocals. You sound so good when you do on our harmonies.”
“No. No way.”
“Listen, don’t be stubborn. You would be amazing as lead.”
“This isn’t about me. Not at center mic.” That wasn’t his dream. It wasn’t even really mine. “I just want to be the best drummer I can be. I didn’t work my fingers to the bone to be a singer.”
“It’s about him. I know. We all know how much you loved him. What did your therapist say?”
“The usual things.”
“Maybe they’re right. The stuff about you finding a motivation beyond making Joey’s Band a success. The stuff about you moving on.”
“I don’t need another motivation. I have you.”
“You know what I mean. If you just—”
“Don’t tell the twins. Don’t you ever tell Lark and Linnet the things you know, no matter what happens.”
Dolly’s voice tightened. “Is something going to happen? You’re not going to—”
“No.” I wouldn’t attempt that again. Suicide was the easy way out, and I didn’t deserve easy. “I’m going to do the Rock Fuck Club.”
“No.”
“Yes,” I said insistently. “It’s not a big deal.”
“What if the people from the show find out about your past? What if they go public with the information?”
“We need the money. You guys are practically starving. No one’s going to find out anything.”
I’d changed my name, and no matter what Marsha said about rock stars, I knew the stuff they wanted unknown could stay hidden. It wasn’t just their actions they were ashamed of . . . they had people in their past they were ashamed of too.
“You should let me do the RFC,” Dolly said.
“No, you’re too sweet. Anyway, it’s already done. Marsha called the exec in charge. I spoke to her. Suzanne Smith is flying to meet me in Santa Fe. If she likes me, we’ll sign the contract there.”
“You deserve better than hookups,” Dolly said softly. “You deserve to be loved, Jo.”
“I love that you think so, but you’re wrong.” I deserved what I had. And nothing more. Not a single thing more.
“It’s been four years.”
“Four years, two hundred eighty-five days.” I slid the bag away, cracked open my eyes, and glanced at the time on my phone. “One hour and fifteen minutes.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.”
Actually, it was the opposite. I wasn’t hard enough. I should have died in that car accident with
him.
And most of the time, I wished I had.
RAISED VOICES WOKE ME. Rolling over on my mattress, I heard Ronald’s protests.
“You must mean you want Stephens. He’s Anthem’s drum tech. Poet’s with the Enthusiasts.”
“Not looking to repair a kit.”
At the sound of Gale’s voice, my eyes widened and my heartbeats quickened.
“I want Josephine,” he said, and the next beat of my heart slammed into the next. “I can find her. Just tell me which bunk is hers.”
I backed into the wall as heavy footsteps approached my bunk.
“There you are,” Gale said after yanking back my curtain. He took me in with a quick glance. “Why aren’t you dressed?”
The dulcet tones of his voice vibrated the metal walls around me, prickling my skin with fiery darts of awareness.
“Why are you here?” I asked, groggy from my migraine. I’d barely slept after it.
“I’m taking you for a ride.” His eyes gleamed. “You agreed. Don’t you remember?”
“You’re taking me for a ride now?”
“Hell yes, now.” His lips curved determinedly within the brown frame of his mustache and beard. “Get yourself up and get some clothes on.”
His gaze dropped to my chest like headlamps on a car that had suddenly hit an unanticipated dip in the road.
“I have clothes on.” I glanced down at my black lace bralette and matching boy shorts.
“Those aren’t clothes.” He raked his disapproving gaze over me, his eyes darkening as they took a leisurely detour along the length of my legs. “They’re a distraction.”
“I don’t believe I asked for your opinion.”
My nipples hard points, I crossed my arms over my chest to hide my response to him, but I only heightened it when my own skin glided against the tips.
“Well, you got it, whether you want it or not.”
Gale’s deep voice tumbled me, taking my imagination to places it shouldn’t go. But how could I not traipse off to the land of fantasy with him standing right in front of me, surrounded by the ambient bus lighting as if he were some kind of mystical love god conjured from an erotic dream?
ROCK F*CK CLUB (Girls Ranking the Rock Stars Book 5) Page 3