Shattered Hearts

by Coral McCallum

  “Ricardo, you trying to send me a message?” he muttered half to himself.

  An idea struck him. Slipping the glass slide over his finger, he reached for his resonator. It wasn’t a guitar that he used on a regular basis with Silver Lake but, suddenly, it felt right. Almost hesitantly, he played over the piece of music from Rich’s laptop and smiled. For half an hour, he messed around with it, adding embellishments to the structure. Once he was happy with it, Jake made a rough recording of the music on his phone then re-read the lyrics he had for it. Earlier, they’d felt ok. Now, they felt all wrong.

  Slowly turning Rich’s old pick over and over between his fingers, Jake allowed his mind to wander back to the Bonded Souls tour. They’d done it in multiple short legs of no more than a month at a time in order that he could fly home for a few days to be with Lori and their baby daughter. That tour had turned out to be one of their best. His heart was full of countless happy memories of those shows. There had been a strong sense of family to everything. They had all watched out for each other.

  An idea hit him.

  Turning the page over in his lyrics journal, Jake lifted the pen and began to write. The words flew from his hand; the words flew straight from his heart. Less than an hour later, as he read over them, Jake knew he’d come up with something a bit special. The last words he scrawled on the top of the page were the title, Got My Eye On You.

  Leaving the slide and the pick on the desk beside his journal, Jake decided to call it a night.

  Over the next few days, the whiteboard in the live room slowly filled up. The band fell into a routine under the watchful eye of Dr Marrs. They would meet for a quick briefing over coffee and Danish or donuts first thing, rehearse the songs already on the board until mid-afternoon then spend the rest of the day either laying down pre-production tracks or writing new material to fill in the remaining blanks on the board.

  Preferring to write alone, Jake frequently found himself sitting out the back of the studio on the plastic crate in the late afternoon sun. Still actively seeking ideas and themes, he drew inspiration from the world around him. A rather persistent hornet provided the inspiration for one of the heaviest songs he came up with. The bug wouldn’t leave Jake alone all afternoon, buzzing by his ear incessantly. Eventually, he surrendered and returned to the live room muttering under his breath.

  “What’s up?” asked Paul casually.

  “Damn hornet chased me back in,” began Jake, reaching for his Mz Hyde custom guitar. “Fucking thing’s been buzzing in my ear for an hour.”

  “Looks like he followed you,” commented Grey, pointing to the large insect that was tangled in Jake’s hair.

  “Oh, great,” muttered Jake as he tried to free the creature.

  “Careful,” cautioned Dr Marrs from the control room just as Jake yelled, “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

  “It get you?” asked Grey.

  “Bastard bug,” growled Jake, shaking his right hand. “Index finger. Hurts like hell.”

  “Get that hand washed and under cold water,” ordered the producer sharply.

  Still muttering, Jake stormed out of the studio towards the restrooms. Cursing under his breath, he washed the sting thoroughly then kept his hand in some cold water for a couple of minutes. The water wasn’t cold enough to be soothing. Opting for plan B, he headed out to the lounge in search of some ice.

  “Afternoon,” came a familiar voice beside him as he rubbed an ice cube on the sting.

  “Nicole!” exclaimed Jake looking up, genuinely surprised to see the music teacher back out at JJL. “What brings you out here?”

  “Meeting with Dr Marrs,” she replied, stepping closer to him. “You ok?”

  “Hornet sting,” replied Jake, showing her his red swollen finger.

  “Oh, poor baby,” purred Nicole, reaching out to take his hand. Gently, she kissed his injured finger. “Does it hurt?”

  “Hurts like hell,” said Jake, trying to pull his hand away.

  “Keep rubbing it down with that ice,” advised Nicole, taking the half-melted ice cube from him. “Like this.”

  Before Jake could stop her, Nicole pressed herself even closer to him and began to kiss him. He could feel her breasts against him.

  “What the hell?”

  “Sh, Jake,” she purred, backing him into a corner beside the large refrigerator. “Let me take your mind off that nasty stinger.”

  Instead of rubbing his hand with the ice cube, Nicole slipped her hand down inside the front of his jeans, running the ice cube across his groin just above his pubic hairline. Her thigh was pressed against his as her hand slowly travelled down inside his boxers.

  “Stop,” he said. “Just stop.”

  His body was suggesting otherwise and, aware of his dick hardening, he felt her cold hand glide along its length.

  “You sure you want me to stop,” whispered Nicole, gazing into his soul with her green cat-like eyes.

  “Just stop,” he said unconvincingly.

  “Before or after I make you cum?”

  “Nicole, please,” began Jake as he tried to ignore her hand gently fondling his balls. “Stop,” he almost groaned.

  “Now, why do I get the feeling you really don’t want me to stop?” she teased as she kissed him again.

  He felt her hand grasp his dick and begin to rhythmically glide up and down. The remains of the ice cube were in her palm, its icy chill serving to heighten the experience. Surrendering to the erotic moment of pleasure, Jake allowed Nicole to wrap her other arm around his waist and didn’t resist when she began to kiss him behind his ear lobe. Without skipping a beat, she groaned softly as she pressed herself closer to him. They were in such close proximity that he could feel her nipples hard through the pale fabric of her soft chiffon blouse. She slid her hand up and down his hard length, allowing the last sliver of ice to tease his sensitive tip. The instant chill triggered his release and with a low feral groan, Jake felt his hot cum spurt over her cool hand.

  “Maybe I should stop,” said Nicole, her voice soft and oozing with obvious lust for him.

  Slowly, she withdrew her hand. Keeping her gaze locked with his, she sensuously sucked each of her long slender fingers clean.

  “I’m late for my meeting now,” she said with a wicked smile. “You’re a bad influence, Jake.”

  Before he could utter a reply, Nicole turned away and headed towards the ladies’ room. Running his hand through his hair, Jake let out a long, exasperated sigh. What had just happened? What had he just allowed to happen?

  “Christ,” he muttered under his breath.

  The hornet sting was temporarily forgotten.

  “What kept you?” challenged Grey when Jake finally felt composed enough to return to the studio.

  “Sorry,” muttered Jake as he lifted his guitar from the stand. Glancing into the control room, he saw it was empty. “Where’s Jim?”

  “That schoolteacher friend of yours just showed up,” explained Grey sourly. “Right, we’ve wasted enough time. Let’s try your hornet song from the top.”

  “Sure. Lyrics aren’t quite finished,” said Jake. “Want to change the last verse.”

  “Let’s just see how far we get,” suggested Paul. “I need to head off in a few minutes. Last one, guys.”

  Hoisting his book bag onto his shoulder, Jake reached into his pocket for his truck keys as he walked out into the early evening sunshine. He sighed with relief when he saw there was no sign of Nicole’s BMW. Throughout the last hour of rehearsal, his mind had been racing as he’d silently cursed himself for being weak. Unlocking the truck, he swore that it would never happen again and prayed that the others and Lori never found out.

  By the start of the third week in the studio, the whiteboard finally had all the tracks listed. There were eighteen song titles neatly and not so neatly written down the left-hand column. It had been a hard slog to fill up the board but, after a few all-night writing sessions, all three members of Silver Lake were happy with the new mat
erial. They’d used enough of the files Rich had left behind to reassure each of them that they weren’t betraying him by recording a new album without him. As the days had passed, it had grown easier for them to be in the studio without him.

  Glancing over at the door just before lunchtime on Monday, Jake said, “I keep expecting that door to open and Rich to storm in.”

  “I hear you,” acknowledged Grey as he fiddled with the tuning of his bass.

  “If he was here,” interrupted Dr Marrs from the control room, “He’d be subtly reminding you that this record isn’t going to record itself.”

  “Someone’s grumpy on this fine September morning,” teased Grey.

  “That’s rich coming from you, Mr Cooper,” joked Paul from behind his kit.

  “Gentlemen,” began the producer bluntly. “I need to get this album in the can. Paul, Grey, I need your tracking done by the end of this week.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Grey with a salute to the control room window.

  “Have we got all the tracks worked out?” quizzed Jake, rapidly trying to think if they’d missed any.

  “Yep!” declared Jim Marrs. “And I need the damn things tracked!”

  Sensing they’d pushed their luck far enough, Paul said, “Best make a start then.”

  “Thank you, Mr Edwards,” sighed the producer. “Jake, get out of there. I’ll call you in if I need you.”

  “Fine. I’ll be out back in the rehearsal room.”

  Coffee in hand, Lori limped slowly through to her workspace. It had been a tough start to her morning. She got stuck in traffic on the way out to the school, causing Melody to have a meltdown in the back of the car about being in trouble if she was late for class. They had made it to the school with just three minutes to spare and she’d felt like a monster leaving her young daughter in tears with her class teacher. When she reached the daycare centre, Jesse decided he didn’t want to go in. He’d thrown a full-blown temper tantrum as she’d wrestled him out of the car. Fortunately, one of the class assistants saw her struggling and had come to rescue her but not before the irate three-year-old had kicked her in the thigh. By the time she had arrived home, she had developed a large purple bruise and her leg was aching.

  With a sigh, she set the mug down on her desk then settled herself in her seat to check her business emails. With Jake out at JJL and the kids out of the house, Lori had fallen into a revised work routine. Her calendar was busy until the end of the year and she had three deadlines to meet before Christmas. October was already blocked out for the Silver Lake artwork.

  Sipping her coffee, she scanned through her emails, pausing to respond to those relating to Hyde Properties. There was a lengthy message from David, her financial advisor, with two business reports attached. Quickly, she marked it as unread then set a reminder in her calendar to read them later on, after the kids were in bed. There were two from Jason regarding potential new commissions but she declined them both without even listening to the accompanying files. He had titled them with their deadline dates and she knew there was no way she could fit in another two projects before January.

  Switching off her laptop, Lori spun her chair round to face her drawing board. The sheet in front of her was covered in drawings of hands. Her current commission was for Garrett’s album and, after a lengthy discussion, he’d revealed he wanted artwork featuring hands of all ages. So far, she’d only heard a few musical snippets and, without hearing the full album, she was struggling a little with developing a clear vision in her mind’s eye of the cover. Dr Marrs had promised to send her the full file by the end of the week.

  Just as she picked up her pen, a wave of nausea washed over her. As quickly as she could, Lori dashed towards the bathroom just making it before she was violently sick. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, she took a few deep breaths. A realisation struck her moments before she was sick for a second time.

  When she returned to her desk, she checked back in her diary. Resting her hand on her still flat stomach, she smiled and made a mental note to stop off at the drugstore on the way to collect the kids.

  Birds were singing in the trees as Jake carried two of his guitars out to the rehearsal studio. There was still work to be done on several of the solos as well as some changes he wanted to make to a few of the other guitar parts. Some of the lyrics weren’t sitting quite right with him either and, as he opened the door to the rehearsal space, he admitted to himself that he was missing having Rich around as a sounding board.

  Three drumkits were set up in the middle of the room. Laying his guitars down carefully, Jake listened to hear if there was anyone else in the building. All he could hear was the drone of the air conditioning and the birds tweeting outside in the trees. There was nothing lying about to indicate that the space was booked out and Dr Marrs hadn’t said he was expecting anyone out there. He was definitely alone in the building.

  For the first half an hour, Jake made very little progress. He played through some of the stuff he wanted to improve on then moved onto some of the fun sections, enjoying playing for playing’s sake. Eventually, he settled on one solo that needed a lot of work. It was for a song tentatively titled Epidemic and his primary concern was that the original solo was too short for such an epic song. Soon, he was engrossed in his music, oblivious to the world around him.

  Jake was so focussed on his guitar that he barely registered that the door had opened. He never looked up as he half-heard someone approaching. A cool hand brushed his neck and slid under the neck of his shirt.

  “What the…….?” he gasped as he looked round.

  The protest hung on his lips as they were met by a long, slow, passionate kiss.

  “Nicole!”

  “Sh,” whispered the tall, slender music teacher. “Those shoulders look so tense. Look like they need a massage.”

  Before he could stop her, Nicole had pushed his broad leather guitar strap from his left shoulder and begun to knead the knots from his strong shoulders.

  “So tense,” she purred as she leaned in close to his ear, flicking her tongue off his ear lobe. “Relax, Jake.”

  Despite himself, Jake had to admit that the massage felt good. Her strong hands were easing the kinks out of his shoulders, easing the tension that been held there way too long. He groaned as she massaged deeper into the tight muscles.

  “Take your shirt off,” suggested Nicole softly.

  “No way!” stated Jake, wriggling out of her grasp.

  “Relax,” whispered Nicole. “It’s just a shoulder rub. No one else is here.”

  Before he could protest, she had reached down to his waist and begun easing his t-shirt upwards. With his guitar still in his lap, Jake allowed her to remove his shirt and resume the deep circular massage movements. Closing his eyes, he gave himself permission to enjoy the massage. As her thumbs worked the kinks out of his neck at the base of his skull, he sighed, feeling himself tingle as her fingers moved on to massage his scalp.

  “See. Not so bad,” commented Nicole with a smile. “You might want to move that guitar. It’s sliding off your lap.”

  Not wanting to risk damaging his Mz Hyde custom guitar, Jake slipped the strap off and stood it on a nearby stand.

  “Now, where were we?” asked Nicole, returning her attention to his well-muscled body. “I love your ink. You should show it off more often.”

  “No chance,” replied Jake. “Only at the beach or at the occasional Weigh Station show.”

  “Pity,” sighed the music teacher as she brushed a soft kiss across his neck.

  Her smooth warm hands moved further down his spine then glided up into his hair once more. Against his better judgement, Jake was feeling himself aroused by the intimacy of the massage. Nicole’s fingers moved to his ears as she gently pinched the edge of each of his ears, working her way round to the lobes. The gentle movements sent little shivers of electricity sparking through him. In his jeans, he felt his dick betray him as it hardened at the semi-eroticism of the massage.

/>   Almost as if she’d read his mind, Nicole moved her right hand down his ribcage and slipped it inside the waistband of his jeans.

  “Stop!” he yelped instantly. “No!”

  “You didn’t object the last time.”

  “Nicole, no!” stated Jake, standing up and stepping away from her.

  Staring at the obvious hard bulge in his jeans, Nicole smiled, her green eyes focussed on his groin.

  “Seems like your dick has other ideas,” she observed, moving towards him. “I’d love to feel you inside me, Jake.”

  “No way!” he exclaimed as she took a step closer.

  Her nimble fingers were unfastening his jeans before he could stop her. Within seconds, she had his hard manhood in her hands. Crouching down, she wrapped her lips around him sucking gently.

  “Holy fuck, woman!” groaned Jake with a long sigh.

  “You like?” she teased before taking him in her mouth once more.

  “Yes, I like,” he heard himself reply as her tongue caressed the tip of his dick with quick circular movements.

  She gently grazed his smooth tip with her teeth then stood up, pressing herself against him.

  “Fuck me,” she murmured into his ear.

  Some base instinct seized control of him. Roughly, Jake pushed up her short skirt to discover she wasn’t wearing any panties. Lifting her bare thigh up and drawing her towards him, he eased himself between her legs, feeling her hot and wet and ready for him. Gripping her firmly, he thrust hard and fast reaching his climax within seconds. Her orgasm exploded around him as she let out a long low moan of ecstasy.

  “Christ, woman,” he muttered as he withdrew from her. “How the fuck did that just happen?”

  Pulling her skirt back into place, Nicole smiled at him.

  “That can never happen again, Nicole,” stated Jake, feeling his anger at his own lack of self-control rising. “Never!”

  “If you say so,” she replied sweetly before adding, “Never is a very long time.”

  Without another word, she blew him a kiss and walked out.