I can’t believe she left without saying goodbye. I can’t believe she hasn’t taken my calls since. I’m confused and – fuck it – I’m hurt.
“Everson!” I look up to where Kid is watching me expectantly. “Ketchup, mate.”
I listlessly reach for the ketchup and relay it to Kid.
Claudie looks at me and huffs. “Get him some coffee.” She snaps her fingers impatiently in the direction of the waitress. “Get him some coffee, please.” The skittish-looking waitress jumps at my sister’s request, refilling my cup to the brim. Claudie turns back to me. “That girl has you completely off your trolley, yeh little brother?” Her face holds a mixture of sympathy and annoyance.
I roll my eyes at her. I’m in no mood to confide in my sister right now. Maybe it’s the fact that I caught her sneaking into Joaquin’s bunk in the middle of the night.
The world has gone mad.
The other guys are lost in their own conversation. Something about the cricket world series set to start in a few weeks. Claudie turns her focus back on me. “So…”
I glance at her over my plate of eggs. “So…”
She grunts and tosses her napkin onto the table. “So, are you gonna fucking go after her?”
I roll my eyes. “Why would I go after her? She just left. She disappeared. We were having the time of our lives and she just vanished.”
My sister sighs. “She wouldn’t just up and leave, Everson. Something happened. And as her prince charming, it’s your job to find out what it is.”
I don’t want to deal with the possibility that my sister is right so I shove my plate away and say, “Look, I’d like to get a few hours of sleep before the show tonight. So, the sooner we start this band meeting, the sooner I can get back to bed.”
She drags a harsh exhale before she turns to the rest of the band and says, “Guys, let me have your attention.”
Their heads all snap in her direction.
“The record label are still being a bunch of hard arses so I’m ready to take matters into my own hands. We’ll start building hype for the music that they want us to trash,” she says decidedly. “We should just go ahead and release snippets of those songs. Record some casual videos of you guys performing the songs in the studio. The fans will love the music and demand the full versions.”
“I love that idea,” Joaquin says thoughtfully. “We don’t need the label to back us. They’re the middleman at this point. We’ve got social media on our side. We’ll go directly to the fans.”
Claudie looks worried, though. “To be completely honest, I think that this strategy would be a violation of the non-compete clause in your recording contract. We could get sued.”
“Have you spoken to our lawyer about this?” Razor asks, looking concerned.
Claudie bites her lip. “I didn’t want to involve Michael at this point because I’m sure that he’d advise against it.”
Kid blows a harsh breath out of his lips as he runs his hand over his short curls.
“We should take a vote,” Claudie says with nervous eyes.
I look around at the skeptical faces at the table. My chair grates bluntly against the carpet as I push to my feet. “I vote ‘yes’,” I say just before I walk away from the table.
I’m done playing softball with Tasha.
Chapter 33
Mackenzie
I pull my statistics book into my lap and turn to page 273 like the dutiful, little economics major that I’m now trying to convince myself I am. My eyes glaze over before I’ve even finished reading the first paragraph.
Fuck – who am I trying to kid? I can’t concentrate.
Everson’s all I can think about. I should have confronted him before I wobbled onto the first bus out of Chicago and disappeared into the night. I should have kicked down that dressing room door and demanded an explanation from him.
I deserved an explanation!
But instead, I ran back to New York like a coward, broken-hearted and defeated. I haven’t forgotten the jubilant smirk on my mother’s face when I showed up at our Park Avenue apartment the next day, lugging my suitcase and my shattered spirit behind me. There was no sympathetic embrace, no words of encouragement. Only a stack of brochures for the best economics and political science programs at various universities across the state.
I’m too weak to fight her right now. So, I signed up for a handful of summer courses to gain some extra credits. That way, I’ll be able to start law school sooner rather than later.
Yes – it’s killing me to follow a path that I have no passion for. But it’s time for me to grow up and make some uncomfortable decisions.
Still, my heart isn’t in it.
I flip open my laptop and type ‘Everson Coal’ into Google. I’ve been doing this pretty much every few hours since I’ve been back in New York. And this time, a new video of him pops up at the top of the search results. I click on it.
“Everson, tell us what this song’s about?” I can’t see her face, but I recognize Claudie’s voice.
Everson’s sitting on a stool in the middle of a recording studio. A guitar is slung around his neck and a mic stand is positioned right in front of him. I can see Kid sitting at the drums in the background and Joaquin is behind the keyboard. Everson looks up from his guitar, into the camera. It feels like those dark, brooding eyes are staring straight into my soul. “The song’s called Dance the Pain Away. It’s a song that we recorded for our upcoming studio album but our label said it’s trash. So we want to play it for you, the fans, and see how you feel about it. We could get into some serious trouble with the label for doing this ‘cause they said it wasn’t good enough to release. But I love it so much because I wrote it for the girl who stole my heart.”
My breath hitches when the words pour out of his mouth. Was my mother right about Everson? Did he move on as soon as I stepped out of the picture? Thinking about it hurts too much.
Claudie prods him. “Tell us about that special girl.”
Everson’s lips tweak into a sad, one-sided smile. “She’s someone I met out in California. She was beautiful in a way words can’t describe. But she was also sad. Then, she would dance and she wouldn’t be so sad anymore.”
“And where is that special woman now?” Claudie asks.
Everson sighs heavily. “I don’t know. She left. She just up and disappeared.”
“I’m really sorry to hear that,” Claudie says in a soft voice. “Maybe she’ll hear this song and know that you’re talking to her. So, let’s hear it, yeh?”
A melancholy rhythm spills from his guitar before the other instruments chime in.
Wait – I know that melody. It’s the riff Everson was playing the night I danced for him in his living room.
Everson starts to sing. His voice is raw and gravelly, and the lyrics seem to be leaking out of his soul.
She’s got dark hair…She wears blue jeans…She’s a girl from New York City…In the city of dreams…In the city of Angels...She’s all I see when I close my eyes…She wears a halo…Although she’s hard and tough on the outside…She needs some saving…That’s what I see when I look in her eyes…I love to watch her dance the pain away.
Oh shit…is this song about me?
Chapter 34
Everson
We had three days off between Atlanta and Miami. While my band mates decided to go down to Florida early and hone their pick-up skills on Miami Beach, I came back to L.A.
I expected Claudie to be pissed. After all, we’ve technically still got an album deadline looming ahead and we’re in the middle of a cross-country tour. But she was surprisingly supportive of my decision. She’s a sucker for love now that she’s with Joaquin. No matter how many times I see it, I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the sight of my sister in Joaquin’s arms. Anyway, when I explained to Claudie that I had to check if Mackenzie had come back to Los Angeles, she didn’t put up any resistance.
The paparazzi has a field day when I land at L.A.X. They h
url questions at me about the tour, they speculate about the stability of the band, they want to know why the pretty, wild brunette who toured with us from Phoenix to Chicago has suddenly disappeared and is she the girl I sing about in Dance the Pain Away? I keep my mouth shut – I slide my sunglasses over my eyes and pull my hoodie high over my head as I try to duck out of ‘arrivals’.
When I get to my beach house, I notice that the breezy, sheer white curtains that cover the neighboring patio door are fluttering in the wind. There’s tropical-looking drink sitting on the table next to what looks like a tube of sunscreen. A colorful beach towel is flung over the ledge.
Mackenzie’s here.
My heart jackhammers against my ribcage as I run-walk my way over there. The nerve of this girl. She disappeared without even a goodbye after the Chicago concert and the only signs of life I got from her were the periodic cryptic, man-hating updates to her social media profile. She hasn’t returned any of my communications. I’ve been worried sick about her. Meanwhile she’s been sitting by the beach, working on her tan and sipping on piña coladas.
I. Am. Fucking. Furious.
Without knocking or buzzing or hollering out, I fling open the door and stomp into the foyer.
That’s when I hear it – the frantic urgent sounds of a woman desperately chasing an orgasm. “Baby, Please! Don’t stop! Love it! Harder! Harder! Baby!”
My stomach lurches. All I see is red. All I hear is the blood whooshing in my ears.
In that instant, I make a decision – I am going to kill whoever I find in here with my girl.
I storm into the kitchen. But what I see disorients me. Did I stumble into the wrong house?
There’s a blond spread-eagle on her back on the breakfast island, covered in what appears to be whipped cream and cherries. Her back arches off of the counter and her head falls to the side as a man with a head of thick, dark hair feasts on her pussy.
Her eyes slide open and fall on me and the loudest, shrillest scream rips out of her chest.
Then, realization washes over me. Followed by a wave of embarrassment.
Stunned by the intrusion, Michael Moretti topples into a kitchen stool and lands flat on his naked arse as his wife shrieks, grabbing a roll of paper towel off of the counter in a futile attempt to cover her nude body.
Chapter 35
Everson
“Ouch,” I wince softly as Michael’s wife presses a bag of frozen peas to my bruised cheek.
She gives me a wary expression as she says, “You really should knock before you come barging into a person’s home, y’know.”
Michael is silent, his face grim as he leans against the doorjamb and grimaces at me.
“Thanks, Ruth,” I say quietly, my eyes too embarrassed to meet hers. I’ve really managed to make a fool of myself tonight.
I watch as she moves towards the door, pulling her robe tightly around her slim waist. She leans in and gives her husband a quick kiss, smiling against his scowling lips. “Come on, honey. Lighten up. It was all a big misunderstanding.” He barely flinches.
Then, she purrs something to him in Portuguese, her sexy Brazilian accent curling around each syllable. Only then does he heave a reluctant sigh and approach me, sliding onto the bar stool opposite mine.
“Bye Everson,” Ruth says as she disappears through the doorway. I nod at her and wait till the echo of her footsteps against the stairs fades away.
“Look man, again, I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t know you were in town. I thought it was Mackenzie in here.”
Michael glares. “You’re just lucky that I didn’t knock you unconscious with that punch. A man’s instincts go into overdrive when he senses an intruder in his home.”
I nod. “I know. I wasn’t thinking straight. It’s just that – I don’t know how much you know about me and Mackenzie, but she was on tour with me and she just disappeared a week ago. Haven’t been able to get in contact with her. I’m kind of going crazy here.”
His nostrils flare. “You devastated my little sister, Coal.” There’s no denying the edge in his voice.
I lean over the counter to him. “See – that’s just the thing, mate. I have no idea what I did. I have no idea why she bolted. One minute, everything was perfect, and the next, she was just gone.”
Michael slams his fist into the counter. “Don’t play dumb with me, man. She saw that naked woman in your dressing room. She knows that you’ve been fooling around with groupies. What the fuck, man? That’s my little sister.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I throw up my hands in surrender. “Naked woman in my dressing room?”
Michael growls. “Yes, she saw a naked woman in your dressing room after the show in Chicago.”
My mind is frantic now. What the hell is he talk—?
“Tasha…”
His eyes narrow, locking on my face.
“This is such bullshit,” I mutter under my breath, shaking my head in disbelief. “I can explain this,” I say as earnestly as I can.
Michael crosses his arms over his chest. “Go ahead. I’m listening,” he says, his jaw ticking.
“You know that the White Hot Coals want to get out of our record deal, yeh? What I didn’t tell you is that the head of A&R at the label is my ex-girlfriend and she’s trying to blackmail me. She threatened to end my career if I didn’t have sex with her. She’s been punishing the band because I won’t fuck her.”
Michael nods, but the icy anger in his expression doesn’t thaw away.
I continue, “She approached me after the Chicago concert saying she wanted an update on the re-record of the album. She suggested that we go to my dressing room to discuss it. I admit it – I’m a fucking idiot because I fell for her ploy. As soon as we got to my dressing room, she started shedding her clothes. I told her it wasn’t gonna happen and I went to use the bathroom. When I came out, she was gone. I haven’t seen her since. I had no idea that she spoke to Mackenzie. I really didn’t know.”
Michael’s still frowning, appraising me in that way that only a lawyer can.
“Look – I swear, man. I’m in love with your sister. I would never hurt her. You’ve gotta believe me.”
“And this naked woman?” he asks. “What are your feelings for her?”
I hock. “Utter contempt. She’s a crazy bitch. I can prove it to you, Michael. I can prove it to Mackenzie. I won’t lose her to this. I can prove to her that she’s mistaken. Just tell me where to find your sister and I’ll clean this whole mess up.”
Chapter 36
Mackenzie
My eyes blur as I stare at the words on the page.
I am dying a slow death…
I slam my textbook shut and drop my forehead to the table in front of me. There’s hardly anybody here at this on-campus coffee shop, so I sling my sweater over the back of the chair next to me and get comfortable. In a matter of minutes, I’ve dozed off to a world where macroeconomics class doesn’t exist and all that matters is Everson and me.
No! No more dreams about Everson! He hurt me.
The sound of my phone chiming rouses me from my sleep.
It’s Willow on CheekyChat. I hit ‘answer’ and slip my ear buds on. “Hey Willie. What’s up?”
Her avatar beams at me. “Okay – I’m gonna tell you something and you’re not gonna hate me. Promise?”
I arch my eyebrow skeptically. “Um…what did you do?”
“You’re not gonna hate me. Promise me that,” she insists.
And immediately I know that she’s up to some bullshit, but I promise not to get angry at her because I know her intentions are usually good. “So, what is it?” I ask, eager to hear what she’s been scheming.
“I got us tickets to the White Hot Coals show tomorrow,” she announces reservedly, trying to gauge my reaction.
“You did what?”
“I got us tickets…to the White Hot Coals show…”
The White Hot Coals’ cross-country tour has finally brought them to the Big Apple.
I’d be lying if I said haven’t kept abreast of the band’s tour schedule and reading concert reviews online. Still, I can’t go to the show.
“Everson Coal is the last person I want to see,” I scowl bitterly.
“Mac, we both know that’s not true. C’mon. Admit it. You miss him.”
Whether I miss him or not is not the point. The point is that he’s a lying, cheating asshole who thinks that he’s entitled to treat women like disposable diapers just because he happens to be one of the most successful musicians in the industry. He’s bad for me. No matter how many songs he writes about me. No matter how much I miss him.
Groupie Love (A Rock Star Romance) (Love in Shades) Page 12