Fractured Beat (Meltdown Book 1)

by RB Hilliard

  Last night was the first I’d seen or heard from Chelle since Austin. After giving her the brush off not one, but two times, I assumed she’d gotten the hint. I should have known better. This was Chelle I was dealing with and the word “No” was not a part of her vocabulary. When I stepped into the living room and saw her glaring at Mallory this morning, I realized the extent of my mistake. Then Luke, brilliantly stupid Luke, introduced Mallory as my girlfriend. At first I wanted to kill him, but then I saw it for what it was…an opportunity. Not only was this my chance to finally get rid of Chelle, it was my chance to get Mallory exactly where I wanted her…in my bed. There was no way in hell I was going to let Chelle ruin it for me. So what did I do? I agreed with Luke, stole a kiss from Mallory and carried her off to my bedroom where we proceeded to have a very real conversation. No wonder she took her job so seriously, she’d literally been there and walked in those shoes. I felt bad for what she’d been through but damn proud of her for where she’d ended up. My Mallory was a fighter. Right as she was about to give me the rest of the story someone knocked on the door.

  “Come in!” I called out, and frowned when Chelle walked in. Not wanting to give her further ammunition, I let go of Mallory’s hand and immediately felt the loss. “What’s up Chelle?” I asked.

  “Uh, I was wondering if I could talk to you…alone…for a second?” She made that purring sound in the back of her throat and I saw it for exactly what it was; desperation. I was torn between wanting to continue my conversation with Mallory and needing to cut Chelle loose.

  In the end Mallory took care of it for me. “Sure, I still have to shower and pack for Charlotte,” she answered.

  “Mallory,” I warned, as she scurried off the bed.

  “You two talk and I’ll see you on the bus.”

  “This is far from over,” I warned. Right before hitting the door she bent over and picked my shirt up off the floor. I thought she was going to walk out with it but, at the last second, she turned and tossed it at me. Her subtle show of possessiveness made me want her even more. It also made me laugh. I watched her walk out the door and wanted to go after her. Instead I was forced to stay and deal with the problem at hand.

  Like an Amazon princess who was much too proud for her own good, Chelle stood in front of me with her head held high and a defiant look in her eye that spelled trouble.

  Once I stopped laughing and had my t-shirt on, I gave her my attention. “You wanted to talk?”

  She stepped up to the foot of the bed and glared down at me. Funny, when I was sitting here with Mallory minutes ago I felt all kinds of emotion but now I only felt trapped. I didn’t think to question where or with whom Chelle slept last night because I really didn’t give a damn. If it was Mallory standing before me wearing last night’s clothes and looking well fucked by another man it would be a different story with a very different ending. Nevertheless, I just wanted Chelle to say her peace and get the hell out of my life.

  “Why didn’t you tell me last night you were seeing someone?” She sounded hurt, but the confrontational gleam in her eye told me otherwise. I could tell she viewed Mallory as a threat, plain and simple. Fear for Mallory and respect for Glenn were the only two things that held me in check.

  “I’m sorry, since when do I answer to you?” I challenged.

  She immediately backed down. “Of course you don’t answer to me. I doubt you answer to anyone but I thought we had something.”

  Chelle may have a big mouth and an even bigger following but I had one thing she didn’t. I had the power to banish her from my world. “You do realize that a relationship is more than just a quickie after a concert, don’t you?” She flinched and I felt bad, but this was on me and it was now up to me to fix it. “Neither of us wanted a relationship, you said so yourself on more than one occasion,” I reminded. As pain flashed across her face I realized how much she’d been hiding from me and I wanted to kick myself for allowing things to ever get this far.

  “If you had just told me you wanted more, I –”

  “I don’t,” I cut her off. “I mean, I didn’t, until Mallory.” Damn, I sucked at this.

  “Why her?” she asked.

  I thought about what to say and decided to stick with the truth. “She sees me.”

  “I see you! I’ve seen you for years now!” she wailed.

  “No, you see what I can do for you and nothing more,” I corrected.

  She threw up her hands and shouted, “What does that even mean? I see you!”

  I could tell this was heading nowhere fast. “I’m sorry if this hurts you. That was never my intention. I appreciate you taking the time to organize the fan pages and media stuff, but this was never going to happen. We were never going to happen. Other than I’m sorry, I’m not sure what else there is to say.”

  “Oh, there’s plenty to say,” she snapped.

  “Then say it. Get it out on the table. The last thing I want is you walking away hurt or angry.” Without another word she turned and stormed from the room.

  Two minutes later I heard a door slam. Within seconds Luke was standing in my doorway with a smirk on his face. “Looks like that went well.” His eyes drifted to the Eat Shit and Die logo on my t-shirt. “And look, you even dressed for the occasion.” My mind wandered back to the jealous look in Mallory’s eyes as she tossed me the t-shirt and I fought back a smile.

  “On a scale of one to ten, how pissed are you?” he asked.

  “Seven. What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I wasn’t. I froze and just blurted out the first thing I could think of to say. I’m sorry, man, really.” Luke was a great guy but he could be a real bonehead sometimes.

  A sleepy looking Nash stepped up beside him and asked, “What’s with all the door slamming and shit?”

  “Oh, Mr. laugh-a-minute here introduced Mallory as my girlfriend, to Chelle of all people. Needless to say, she flipped her shit,” I explained.

  Nash shrugged and muttered something about birds and stones.

  “What?” Luke and I both asked.

  “It sounds to me as if he helped you kill two birds with one stone,” he repeated.

  “Who says shit like that?” Luke asked.

  Nash shook his head at Luke and explained, “Numb nuts here just gave you the perfect way to explain Mallory’s existence and to finally get rid of Chelle. It’s a win, win when you think about it.”

  Luke turned to me and smiled. “See? I did you a favor.”

  “I can think of a million better ways that could have gone down,” I growled.

  He chuckled. “From the way your lips were locked on Mallory’s earlier, I’d have to disagree.” He was not wrong. That kiss was amazing and something I wanted to further explore.

  The minute Luke mentioned the kiss Nash’s eyes shot to me. “It seems I missed a lot more than just slamming doors,” he smirked.

  Officially through with the current conversation, I moved on to a less desirable but more important topic. “The night I landed in the hospital, what made you search my hotel room for drugs?”

  Surprise flashed across Luke’s face and he glanced over at Nash. Nash shrugged, “I’m pretty sure either Chaz or Blane said something to me about it.” Leaning away from the door he called out, “Hey Chaz!”

  “Yo!” Chaz answered from somewhere in the suite.

  “Was it you or Blane who suggested that we search Grant’s room for drugs the night he ended up in the hospital?”

  After a long pause Chaz answered, “Blane, why?”

  “How did Blane know to search my room?” I asked the two of them. That got me thinking about Chaz and the way he was with Mallory last night, and I called out, “Hey Chaz?”

  “What!” he shouted. I could tell by his tone he was starting to get annoyed.

  “What’s up with you and Mallory?”

  After an even longer pause than the first, he answered, “Nothing!”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive!” he shoute
d. Both Nash and Luke stared at me and I shrugged. If he said there was nothing going on I was going to take his word for it. The phone rang and we heard Chaz pick it up. A few seconds later he shouted, “That was Hank. He says thirty minutes until we load the bus!” The realization that we were going to be late if we didn’t get a move on had us all scrambling.

  On the ride over to the bus Hank mentioned us hooking up with an Army buddy of his who owned a bar in Charlotte. I remembered him asking a few months back for VIP tickets. He said his buddy was willing to close down his bar to all but a few of his close friends and our entire entourage if Meltdown would agree to sing a few songs. We all agreed that it sounded like fun. We then discussed what happened with Chelle and made a unanimous decision to pull her from the VIP list for the remainder of the tour. Luke thought it was harsh, but only because he wanted to keep boning her. I made a mental note to speak to Glenn about it. I wasn’t sure how much he knew about Mallory but the last thing we needed was him sharing any of our business with his sister-in-law.

  While we were unloading the SUV Blane pulled up next to us in a candy apple red Porsche. When I saw Mallory sitting beside him I fought back a growl of anger. I’d stopped by her room to see if she wanted a ride to the bus and when she didn’t answer I’d assumed she’d left with security, not with Blane. What was the deal with those two? As I watched him exit the car and walk around to open Mallory’s door I decided I’d had just about enough. There was no doubt about it, the joke was on me. I was the one with the supposed drug problem. I was the one having to give up my life for the next five months to good behavior and fake drug counseling. Mallory Scott was hired for me, not for Blane’s entertainment. It looked as if Blane needed some clarification on the matter and I was just the man to give it to him.

  Blane placed his hand on the small of Mallory’s back as he led her over to the bus and I tried not to lose my cool. I knew it shouldn’t bother me this much, but the truth was it did. It bothered the hell out of me. From the second she’d walked through the door with her cropped pants and ugly bun I’d noticed every move Mallory Scott made. Blane leaned down and said something in her ear and I saw red. The desire to pummel his pansy ass to a bloody, red pulp climbed to an overwhelming urge.

  Not able to stand it any longer, I shouted, “Blane!” His head shot up and he cast a questioning look my way. I waved him over. He scowled and I returned it with a death stare. When he realized I meant business he let out a huff and muttered something under his breath. Mallory watched from the bus doors as he made his way over to me.

  “Is there a problem?” he asked in his holier than thou tone. I was one second away from showing him just how big of a problem there was.

  “New development,” I announced, once he reached me. “Mallory is no longer your puppet. She will ride with the band, eat with the band and hang out with the band at all times from here on out.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” he chuffed.

  “You hired her to rehabilitate me, did you not? You insisted I had to have more therapy for my big, bad drug addiction, did you not? You forced this on me even though you and your father both knew it was bullshit. Did. You. Not? Yet, every time I see you, you are so far up her ass it isn’t even funny. No more. Do I make myself clear?”

  “That’s ludicrous!” he hissed.

  “No, what’s ridiculous and ludicrous and all the other words you choose to use for fucking stupid, is this head game you and your father are playing. If you think I don’t know you’re the one who tipped the guys to search my room for drugs that night, think again.”

  Shock appeared on his face. “W-w-what are you talking about?” he sputtered. “If Chaz hadn’t mentioned your marijuana stash, I would never have even thought to search your room.”

  “What did you say?” I quietly asked. Surely I’d misunderstood him. It was one thing to throw me under the bus, but my boys? Fuck that. “Let me tell you what I think. I think my little trip to rehab was a set up. I haven’t figured out why yet, but I will. If I find out that either you or your father had anything to do with it, I swear I will take you down. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Grant, I swear I had nothing to do with any of this,” he stammered. His look of panic gave me great satisfaction.

  “Are you willing to say the same about your father?” His silence told me everything I needed to know. Even the man’s son couldn’t vouch for him. “One more thing, if you hear whispers about Mallory being my girlfriend, just roll with it. If she gets any, and I’m talking one sentence of negative press, I’m blaming you.” Without another word, I started for the bus.

  “For the record, I’m sorry for everything. I never wanted things to be this way,” he called out.

  In three strides I was back in his face. “If you’re truly sorry then do something right for a change and figure out who the hell drugged me that night. Oh, and while you’re at it, find out who stole Mallory’s phone and sent those pictures to your dad, because you and I both know it wasn’t her. In the meantime, get the name of Hank’s friend’s bar in Charlotte and make sure no one catches wind that we’re partying there tonight, including your fucking father.” With a nod of my head I walked away and left him standing there.

  “Grant!” he called after me.

  Ignoring him I got on the bus and plopped down on the bench next to Nash. I stared at Mallory who was busy leafing through some papers and wondered if she was feeling the same thing I was. After this morning I found it hard to believe she wasn’t.

  “What was that about?” Nash asked.

  “That was me taking back control.” I glanced over at Chaz as the bus pulled out of the parking lot and thought about what Blane had said. Someone was lying. Before last night I would bet my life it was Blane but now I wasn’t so sure.

  Chaz looked up from his video game and caught me staring at him. “What?” he asked with a scowl on his face.

  “Blane said you were the reason he thought to search my room that night. He said you told him I had a stash of marijuana just sitting in my hotel room.”

  A look of shock appeared on his face, or was it fear? Whatever it was I wasn’t sure I trusted it. “What? No! Did he tell you that? If so, that’s whacked. We all were there that night and we all followed Blane to your hotel room. Trust me, none of us knew what we were going to find, just ask them,” he nodded at Luke and Nash.

  Luke nodded his head in agreement. “You have to admit, Blane has been acting strange lately.”

  A bottle of ice cold water dangled in front of my face for a second before landing on the table in front of me. I looked up at Mallory’s smiling face. “You look like you could use this,” she said, and then wedged her cute little ass between Luke and me. I gave her a nod of thanks before I opened the water and drank half of it down. Then I confessed what Blane told me about losing the label to Kirkland. For the longest time no one said a word.

  “So Kirkland now owns the label?” Luke finally asked.

  I nodded my head, yes.

  “I don’t like Kirkland,” he responded.

  “None of us do,” Nash interjected.

  “How much will it take to buy us out of our contract?” Luke asked.

  “More than we have,” Chaz answered.

  Luke frowned. “How much longer do we have left?”

  “Two more years.” I told him. Luke scowled and Nash let out a hiss of anger. I decided it was time to tell them the rest of the story. After explaining about the pictures on Mallory’s phone, which she kindly provided for the group, I told them what I suspected. “I think Kirkland is behind all of this. When he took over the label from Blane he thought that all he had to do was save Blane from getting his arms and legs chopped off and run a music company. How hard could it be? There was just one problem, Blane didn’t control us. We controlled Blane, which in turn meant we controlled Happenstance. When you think about it, it makes sense. We brought in the bands on the label, not Blane. We all know Kirkland is more of a dictator than a team pla
yer. The easiest solution would have been to either sell or dissolve the label, but once he discovered how much money we were bringing in he knew he’d be a fool to walk away. However, he needed to gain back control and his only ally happened to be his degenerate son. What do you do when you suddenly become the owner of an extremely lucrative label with a headlining band that not only hates your fucking guts, but is running your show?”

  “You find a way to regain control,” Mallory answered.

  “You discredit them” Luke said.

  “And then you ride in and save the day,” Nash added.

  “Exactly.”

  “You really think Kirkland drugged you?” Chaz asked.

  “Think about it, Kirkland drugs me, and while I’m on stage losing my shit, he plants incriminating evidence in my hotel room. Once I’m down for the count his son, who just so conveniently has the three of you with him, leads you straight to the evidence. Boom!” I slammed my fist on the table and everyone jumped. “Immediate fracture in the band. Grant Hardy isn’t looking so good anymore, is he? Kirkland wants control back. If he makes Grant look bad he makes himself look better, especially if he’s the one who swoops in and saves the day.”

  “So he splits us up and sends you to rehab,” Nash filled in.

  “And not just any rehab, either. He sent you to the rehab where he holds a seat on the board and can control what happens,” Luke said, in a conspiratorial voice.

  “All to gain leverage over you,” Mallory added.

  “It makes sense,” Chaz agreed.

  Luke let out a long dramatic sigh. “Well, whether he did or didn’t drug you is irrelevant because he’s now got us where he wants us.”

  “Not necessarily. If we find proof that Kirkland drugged me and sent me to rehab under false pretenses then we have our way out.”