Rock Angel (Rock Angel Series Book 1)

by Bogino, Jeanne

  Shan tittered, pleased, and began to collect the scraps of wrapping paper that littered the floor. After a moment, she noticed no one was helping and looked up.

  Everyone was watching her, including Quinn. “I have another present for you,” he said.

  A ripple seemed to go through the room as he put the drum aside. He settled her on the couch, instructing her to close her eyes. She obeyed, then heard him leave the room. “No peeking,” Denise ordered when she opened her eyes.

  Shan quickly squeezed them shut again as she heard the bang of the screen door. There was a chorus of oohs and aahs, then something was placed in her lap.

  “Okay,” Quinn said. “Open up.”

  She did, and her brain didn’t immediately register what it was, besides a pile of warm black fuzz. When she touched it, a pink tongue emerged to lick her hand. “A puppy!”

  Quinn was smiling. “She’s a black Lab. Mostly, anyway.”

  “Oh, Q! I couldn’t love anything more!”

  “Haven’t you always said pets were a pointless drain of money?” Dan said.

  “Yeah, unless they eventually end up on a plate with steak sauce?” Ty added.

  Quinn ignored them. “I thought you’d be safer on your hikes if you had a dog with you.”

  “I just love her!” Shan buried her nose in black fuzz. “She’s the best thing anyone’s ever given me. Well, one of the best,” she corrected herself, recalling the Angel. “You do good presents, Mr. Marshall. But is it okay with everyone else?”

  “Oh yeah. He cleared it first,” Dan said. “We all voted in favor of a new family member.”

  Quinn reached out to scratch the puppy behind her ears. “She needs a name,” he told Shan.

  “I’m thinking Bertha,” Shan said.

  “Bertha?” Denise wrinkled her nose. “Yuck. She should have a pretty name. Besides, I’d expect something more esoteric from you.”

  “Do you think it’s yucky?” Shan asked Quinn.

  “A little, but I’m with you. It is esoteric,” he said to Denise.

  “I don’t follow,” Denise said.

  “From the Dead song,” Quinn translated, “written by Garcia and Hunter, Shan’s all-time favorite song-writing duo. I have to agree with Denise, though,” he added. “It isn’t very pretty.”

  “Casey Jones, then,” Shan said.

  Quinn grimaced. “Please don’t name her after a coke song.”

  “How about Corrina?” Ty said.

  “That’s pretty,” Dan said. “Cool tune, too.”

  Shan shook her head. “Jerry didn’t write that one.”

  The group pondered for a while. “How about Sugaree?” Quinn said finally. “He wrote that. And it was one of the first songs I ever heard you play.”

  And Sugaree became the puppy’s name.

  After the Christmas-morning carnage had been collected and disposed of, Shan fed the puppy her first breakfast in her new home, then took her outside to the creek bed. She sat down in the folding chair under the sycamore tree and watched Sugaree root among the stones. “Do your business,” she told her. The puppy stared at her blankly.

  The back door opened and Quinn emerged. “Any luck?”

  “Not yet, but I’m patient.”

  “I’ll help you with it. I’m glad you like her,” he added, smiling.

  “I love her. Thank you, Q. You’ve made this holiday really special for me. More special than it’s been in…well. A long time,” she said, thinking of her mother.

  Her words seemed to hang in the air as Quinn sat down beside her, resting his hands on his knees. “I think I’m going to take George up on his invitation,” he said.

  Shan’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  “Well, the ice is broken now. Smashed, I suppose.” He shrugged. “I don’t know that it could go much worse than it did last night, so why not? I think he might be right. It’s time.”

  Shan nodded. “They love you very much, you know. Even your mother,” she added gently.

  “Well, she has a hell of a way of showing it.” He stood up. “Do you want to come?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Not this time. You need to get to know your family again and, if I came, it would just complicate things. Especially after last night.”

  “I’m inclined to agree,” he said, then frowned. “I hate to leave you alone on Christmas, though.”

  “I won’t be alone.” She looked at Sugaree, who was just concluding a pee. “Good girl!” She leapt up and scooped the puppy into her arms, covering her head with kisses.

  Ty had no plans, either, so Shan spent the afternoon with him eating Chinese food, watching It’s a Wonderful Life, and attempting to housebreak Sugaree. Dave came by later with a bottle of wine and a quarter ounce of grass, and everyone had the munchies by the time Dan and Denise returned with Christmas cookies and leftover pie.

  Quinn still wasn’t home when Shan retired to her bedroom with her puppy. He’d suggested that Sugaree sleep in the kitchen and the rest of her roommates had been fine with that, but Shan didn’t want to leave her alone. The little dog came from the animal shelter in Glendale, Quinn had told her, taken there by someone who found her abandoned in a box by the side of the road. The story broke Shan’s heart and she resolved that this puppy would never know another scared or lonely night.

  She was playing her guitar and watching Sugaree chew on an old sock when Quinn knocked at her door. She called for him to come in. He was dressed for bed, in a ratty T-shirt and a pair of blue sweats with a berklee logo on the thigh, and carried a small paper bag. “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey,” he replied. “Can I come in and hang out, for a little bit?”

  “Of course.” She moved over to make room. Quinn flopped down on the futon and stroked Sugaree, who was rolling between them.

  “I should have gotten her some toys,” he said apologetically. “I’ll take you to pick some out tomorrow, if you want. I brought her this, though, straight from the holiday ham.” He pulled a bone out of the bag and offered it to the puppy, who fell upon it with gusto.

  “How did it go?” Shan asked, over Sugaree’s crunching.

  “Not bad,” he said. “Not great, either. It was a little intense. I’m still digesting it.” He didn’t seem inclined to elaborate further, so she turned the subject to less sensitive matters.

  “I’m working on something. Just a fragment, really, but I think it could be the beginning of a song. Do you want to hear it?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She took up her guitar and played the riff, and Quinn was intrigued enough to fetch the Yamaha. A couple of hours later, they had the bones of a new melody.

  Shan yawned as she put their instruments away while Quinn took Sugaree outside. When he brought her back upstairs, Shan settled her on the bed and Quinn looked dubious. “You realize, don’t you, that she’s not going to be housebroken after just one day?”

  “But I want to her to get used to sleeping with me.”

  He shrugged, still looking doubtful, and stretched out beside Sugaree.

  “I’m going to bed now,” she said, but he didn’t move and, when his eyes met hers, there was something in them that caused the heat to start pooling in her belly.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” she said sharply, squashing the sensation.

  “Like what?”

  “You know. I’m not one of your frequent flyers.” She frowned. “I know it’s Christmas, but I hope you don’t think I’m going to have sex with you just because you gave me this puppy.”

  He looked offended. “And I had to entice you with this puppy because it was so hard to get you to have sex with me the last time?” He waited until she flushed before continuing. “I’m not suggesting anything sexy. I just want to be with you. We slept together last Christmas,” he added when she started to shake her head. “Don’t you remember?”

  “You were in Boston last Christmas.”

  “And you were in New York. But we slept together anyway.�
�

  Then she did remember. Oda had been upstate visiting her family and Denise was at Dan’s, so Shan had been alone. Quinn was spending the holiday in a similar solitary fashion and, when he called her on Christmas night, they’d talked for hours. She’d fallen asleep talking. The next morning when she woke up, the phone was still beside her on her pillow.

  She hesitated, then tossed him one of her Mexican blankets and turned off the light.

  And turned it back on five minutes later, when Sugaree wet the bed.

  “I warned you,” Quinn said as they stripped the sheets.

  She ignored him, going downstairs for rags and Lysol. She soaked up the small spot as best she could, then scrubbed it. They flipped the futon over and Quinn retrieved the comforter from his own bed while Shan remade it with the new sheets Denise had given her for Christmas.

  When she finished, she saw Quinn fiddling with the little basket he’d given her along with the puppy. He removed its small cushion, lined the basket with a plastic trash bag, then covered the bag with a soft bath towel.

  “What if she piddles on your towel?” Shan asked, amused.

  He shrugged without answering and put the basket on the bed, then put the puppy in the basket. They got back into bed and Shan snapped off the light again. The puppy was between her and Quinn and she wasn’t touching any part of him, but she was very aware that he was in her bed, next to her. She found the soft, even sound of his breathing comforting.

  “Q?” she whispered, after a while.

  “Mmm?” He sounded drowsy.

  “Do you ever think about that day?”

  He didn’t reply right away. It was the first time she’d brought it up directly, The Act, and it occurred to her that he might not understand which day she was talking about.

  “I think about it all the time,” he finally said, no longer sounding sleepy, and she knew that he understood her perfectly.

  “You never mention it.”

  “Neither do you.”

  She was quiet again, for a time, then, “Q?”

  “Yes?”

  “What do you think about it?”

  He was silent even longer this time and, when he spoke, his voice was low. “I think that it was mind blowing. Earth shaking.” He paused for an endless moment, then, “Life changing.”

  “Oh.” Her voice was very small, but she thought he must be able to hear her heartbeat, which had accelerated to a gallop.

  He wasn’t finished speaking. “But, if you’re going to change your life, you’ve got to make damn sure you’re ready for it.” He touched her, groping, and when he found her hand he took it. “You’ll wait for me to be ready, won’t you, angel?”

  She didn’t reply, but she grasped his hand like a lifeline. When she finally fell asleep, she was still gripping it.

  chapter 29

  Shan woke the next morning to an insistent knocking at the room next door. “He’s not here,” she heard Denise call downstairs, then there was a tap at her own door. “Shan,” Denise said, opening the door, “do you know where…”

  The words died on Denise’s lips when Quinn sat up, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

  A moment later Dan appeared behind Denise, looking startled, as well, when he saw two occupants in the bed. “Er…phone for you, Q,” he reported. “Sounds like a ball-busting bitch.”

  Quinn was nonplussed. “My mother?”

  “She’s the only ball-busting bitch I know,” Dan said, heading back down the hall.

  Quinn climbed out of bed and squeezed past Denise. “Excuse me.”

  “There is no excuse for you,” Denise said, not moving an inch.

  Quinn used his elbow to propel her out of his way. “Dan’s wrong,” he grumbled. “We all know about his thing for ball-busting bitches.”

  When he went downstairs, Denise turned on Shan. “Tell me you didn’t fuck him just because he gave you that puppy.”

  “Do I look naked?” Shan said, scooping up Sugaree.

  “Thank God. She’s cute, but gratitude has its limits.”

  Shan heard him talking on the phone as they came downstairs. “No, it’s okay,” he was saying. “What’s on your mind?…When?…Oh, wow…how did that come about?” He turned, saw Shan and Denise openly listening, and stepped into the closet, shutting the door behind him.

  Shan took Sugaree outside and, when she came back in, Quinn was still in the closet. He emerged after about fifteen minutes and went upstairs without mentioning the conversation to anyone.

  Eventually she heard him turn on the shower. Dan heard it, too, and looked at Shan. “This is huge, you know.”

  “I know,” Shan said. “I’m so glad, although I can see how the whole situation evolved. She’s a little scary, isn’t she?”

  “So is Quinn,” Dan said. “He’s just like her. That’s why they don’t get along.”

  Quinn wasn’t scary that day, just preoccupied. He took Shan to the pet shop in Sunland as promised, where she selected some puppy chews, a ball, and a few squeak toys. He shook his head when she suggested lunch at their favorite burger joint and they were back home in an hour. He spent the afternoon wiring the new telephone, receiving several more calls, which he took in the closet, at least until he had the new phone working. After that, he commandeered Shan’s bedroom. She could hear him in there talking and he didn’t emerge until it was time to get ready for their gig.

  That night they were playing Anti-Club on Melrose and, while they were setting up, he made an announcement. “I cancelled Thursday night at Bluenote.”

  “What?” Ty groaned. “That’s New Year’s Eve!”

  “You can’t cancel now,” Dave said at the same time. “They’ll never hire us again.”

  “I booked them a replacement,” Quinn said, “because we have another gig.”

  Shan noted Quinn’s cat-that-got-the-cream expression. “Where are we playing?”

  “Disneyland.”

  Dave’s nose wrinkled. “New Year’s Eve at Disneyland?”

  “They have bands on every corner on New Year’s. Is that what we’re doing?” Dan asked, not looking particularly thrilled, either.

  “No,” Quinn said. “It’s a private party. At Club 33. We’ll be opening for Valentine. Oh,” he added as everyone’s jaws dropped, “and the host is Brandon Terry.”

  Dan and Dave went nearly catatonic. Shan and Ty were confused, but the others quickly filled them in. Club 33 was a VIP establishment located in the heart of Disneyland. It was members only, highly exclusive, and hideously expensive. The members could reserve the place for special events, like holiday parties.

  Dan’s eyes were like saucers. “How’d you pull this off, Q? Did your stepfather have something to do with it?”

  “He did,” Quinn admitted. “He and my mother are on the guest list.”

  Shan gasped. “I’m surprised your mom would let him score us a gig like this!”

  “Actually, it was her suggestion. They watched the Troubadour tape with me on Christmas and it was the Valentine tie-in that gave her the idea. I don’t think I ever mentioned it,” Quinn added, “but Jerrika James and Carole Grayson are George’s clients.”

  Valentine was big-time, a chart-topping, blues-rocking quintet that featured one of the industry’s few female guitarists, Carole Grayson, who was among the best rhythm players in the business. Shan idolized her, but the band’s real superstar was their charismatic lead singer, Jerrika James, a sultry blond bombshell lauded for her hard-edged, expressive voice. They were bona fide rock stars and Quinntessence was going to open for them, in front of an audience of music industry bigwigs!

  Shan was elated and threw herself into the preparations as the band geared up for what was undoubtedly the most important gig they’d ever played. For the next three days the house was a cacophony of guitar chords, drum licks, keyboard trills, and singing as they practiced nonstop, both collectively and on their own. Quinn obsessed over the playlist, repeatedly changing and rearranging the lineup. Shan f
retted over her wardrobe, trying on one outfit after another, and could barely contain her excitement as the gig drew closer.

  Then, on the morning of New Year’s Eve, she woke up with stomach cramps, a headache, and a wrenching, nerve-wrangling case of the jitters. ’Done jones, she told herself, but the feelings didn’t go away even after she swallowed her dose and she realized that she was in the throes of the worst case of stage fright she’d ever experienced. The feeling worsened and by midmorning when the band arrived in Anaheim, Shan was a nervous wreck, wishing she had a real fix to blot it out.

  Their deal included access to the park, which they were free to enjoy once they delivered their gear. They set out to explore Disneyland, with instructions to return at four o’clock for sound check, and it was unbelievably crowded. New Year’s was apparently a big event there and the atmosphere was loud and festive. Noisemakers were handed out at the entrance and there were bands everywhere, playing every conceivable type of music to crowds of people in party hats and mouse ears. Shan knew they’d never make it to most of the attractions, because the lines were interminable, and she was jostled and shoved as she followed her bandmates through the throng.

  All day she was uncharacteristically silent, quietly freaking out within the confines of her mind. When they stopped for a snack in the Fantasyland section of the park, Dan checked his watch. “It’s almost one-thirty and we still haven’t gone on most of the rides.”

  “I vote for Space Mountain,” Dave said.

  Ty and Dan were in agreement, but Quinn hung back. When Shan walked past him, he caught her arm. “Go ahead,” he said to the others. “We’re going to check out the Haunted Mansion. There won’t be time for both, so we’ll find you later.”

  “You don’t like Space Mountain?” Shan asked, just for something to say as Quinn steered her to a stately antebellum mansion gracefully flanked by weeping cyprus trees. The line looked infinite.

  “Sure I do. It’s awesome,” he said as they took their place in the mansion line, “but this ride is really cool, too. Besides, it’s much more your speed.”