Broken (The Guitar Face Series Book 1)

by Sasha Marshall

  My grandparents even stay late on Wednesday evening, and Red, my grandfather, plays the guitar and sings for us. His musical abilities still mesmerize me, and I know I will never be the guitar player he is. I leave Jag to snuggle up to my grandfather that night. He is the most amazing man I have ever met. The nights around the fire feel so much like Caleb’s last Thanksgiving. So much has changed in each of our lives since his death, and I wonder what he would think of Jagger and me. He would be jealous of Jessica and Koi. He always had a thing for her. I don’t think he would be surprised by Cam and Kathrine at all. They fit so well together.

  Thanksgiving morning rolls around, and Kathrine’s mom talks her into shopping before the Black Friday crowds hit. Kathrine is not excited when her mom says she wants to find a bathing suit. She knows her mom will take all day, which is exactly why the plan was enacted. Koi, Kip, and Jagger make us breakfast that morning, and the moms show up with Kathrine around two to start cooking the feast. We drink wine all day and are riding high on the impending proposal. Cam is a nervous mess, and Kathrine is starting to notice. I send Jagger and Koi down to the beach with him to calm him down. Each time Kathrine mentions it, I just chalk it up to him being nervous being around her parents.

  When dinner is ready, we gather in the dining room. Jagger holds my hand the entire time, and rubs his thumb in my palm. The joy is so contagious and very present in the room. At the end of dinner, my mother asks each of us to describe what we are thankful for.

  Mom: “I’m thankful for my wonderful parents, and the influence they had on my children. I’m also thankful for my loving husband who I have loved since the day I saw him play the guitar in my dad’s studio. I’m most thankful for my two beautiful children who have grown into amazing, happy, healthy adults.”

  “Here! Here!”

  Dad: “What she says. And rock-’n’-roll!”

  “Here! Here!” we all toast again.

  My grandfather: “I thought raising my daughter was the most amazing experience of my life, and she is the best daughter a man can ask for. She did well in school, never got in trouble, and married a good man. She gave me the two things I’m most thankful for: my grandchildren. They took to the guitar at such a young age, and when they wanted in the industry, they didn’t ask for it. They worked for it. They climbed to the top of that rock-’n’-roll mountain on their own. Even though you far surpassed my celebrity in this world, you both remembered the values you were raised with. You are kind to others, you give to those in need, and you love with everything you have. I’m also thankful that the woman I married fifty years ago loved me at my worst. She loved the music as much as I did, and through our love, all of you sit here together as a family.”

  “Here! Here!” The toasts went on and on.

  Koi: “I’m thankful for my loving family, my career, our very talented band, this beautiful woman who sits beside me. I think I have had a crush on you since I was sixteen.”

  “Aw!” we all say and then lift our glasses.

  Jagger: “I’m thankful for my family and the music. I’m most thankful for Henley. She is the most amazing woman I have ever met. I treasure every day I’m allowed to spend with you. I know I can be an idiot, so I’m extra thankful that you put up with me. I love you so much! And I have loved her since the sixth grade, so I win, Koi.”

  “Here! Here!” And our families toast while he kisses my lips.

  Me: “If you told me our Thanksgiving five years ago would be Caleb’s last, I would have called you crazy. It was an amazing Thanksgiving, and this one reminds me so much of that week. I’m thankful for the amazing memories of Caleb. I’m also thankful to each one of you for loving and supporting me through my journey to find peace in his death. I will never forget that. I’m thankful for a grandfather and a father who gave me music. I’m also thankful for my mother and grandmother who held it all together so the crazy musicians in the family could chase their dreams. You kept us grounded and never let us forget where we came from. I’m thankful for my brother who always has my back and loves me like a big brother should. I’m thankful for the love in this room tonight. If you take a look around, everyone is holding someone else’s hand. There isn’t a soul at this table who isn’t holding the hand of someone they love. Life is crazy, and our lives are even crazier, but it is these moments that we hold closest to our hearts, the moments when we are surrounded by unconditional love. I’m very thankful for Jagger. You are the love of my life. I’m also thankful for a little boy named Noah, who gave me the biggest gift I have ever received.”

  “I’m holding my mom’s hand,” Kip says. “I should’ve hired an escort.”

  “You what?” my grandfather asks.

  “You know, Red, like a woman you pay to be your lady friend for the night?” He winks at my grandfather.

  “You mean like a streetwalker?”

  “No, sir, we don’t call them that anymore. They are called prostitutes or hookers now. An escort is someone you can hire to give you companionship for a set amount of time. You aren’t buying hanky panky, just her time.”

  “So, what do you do with her? Talk?”

  “Well, it depends on what language you speak, sir.”

  “What in the hell are you talking about, boy?”

  “Well, if you speak the language of love, you can definitely talk...all night long!” Kip lets out a yelp when his mother hits him in the back of the head.

  “Was that boy dropped on his head as a child, Paxton?” My grandfather asks Kip’s dad.

  “I think they gave us the wrong child at the hospital. I have tried to talk her into taking his ass back for twenty-eight long years.”

  While everyone else cracks up, I narrow my eyes at Kip’s father. I know his words cut my friend to the bone. He’s a piece-of-shit father.

  “I said nice things about you people in my toast. Shame on you. I’m so not feeling the love tonight,” Kip deflects with humor.

  “Maybe you should hire one of those escorts, so you can feel loved,” my grandfather says, and Kip has finally been rendered speechless.

  We busy Kathrine with washing dishes and wrapping the food. Jessica, Sam, Cam, Koi, Jagger, Kip, and Big Daddy state we are going on a big-ass liquor run. Everybody makes up their own convincing excuse as to why they need to go to the liquor store. We set up the lights on the beach. We then wait on the beach out of sight while I send Big Daddy in to retrieve Kathrine. Once he goes in, the remaining guests know to join us on the beach.

  I see Kathrine exit the French doors with her dad, fussing about the dishes still left in the kitchen. Her dad points to the lights on the beach. They read, “He asked me. I said yes. What will you say?” She looks at her dad in confusion, and I hold my breath. He points down to the beach where Cam is waiting amongst the lights. Her dad kisses her on the cheek and escorts her down to Cam. He steps over to our crowd, and Cam drops to one knee. I throw my hands over my mouth to suppress my squeal of joy. I want to jump up and down, but she can’t see us in the shadows, and I don’t want to take away from their moment.

  “I felt so lost these last few years. The music was great, but it just didn’t make me feel whole anymore. I couldn’t put my finger on what was missing. I have known you a long time, but when you came to New Orleans, I found what I was missing. When you left, I felt lost again, but each time I heard your voice or saw your face, I was whole again. Please do me the honor of being my wife and making my life whole, always. Will you marry me?”

  I hold my breath. If she says no, I’m kicking her ass. She starts saying yes as she nods her head vehemently, and he places that gorgeous ring on her finger. Our massive group finally lets out the hoots and squeals. Kathrine turns toward us in shock, and the fellas light the tiki torches so she can see us. She hugs her parents and makes her way through the family and friends. When she gets to me, I hold her tight. We jump
up and down, holding each other, squealing like teenage girls. Jessica and Sam join in our hug and squeal fest too.

  Chapter 27

  TWO WEEKS BEFORE Christmas, I’m still shopping. Luckily, the guys have chartered a private jet back to Georgia. So, I can just wrap presents here and take them with me. I still haven’t figured out what to get Jagger. Jessica and I are out shopping today for Jag and Koi. They aren’t easy to shop for, so we need the moral support and lots of coffee. My phone chirps as I leave Starbucks after lunch.

  Jagger: What ya doing?

  Me: Still trying to find the love of my life the perfect gift.

  Jagger: The love of your life already has the perfect gift. You.

  Me: Aw.... I can’t think of a damn thing to get you that you don’t already have.

  Jagger: I’ve given you some ideas, baby.

  Me: I know, and I have bought everything you asked for. I just need to find the big gift. The special one.

  Jagger: You will find it. You always figure it out.

  Me: What you doing?

  Jagger: Running some errands. Want to meet me for dinner after you shop?

  Me: I would love to. I will text when I’m finishing up.

  Jagger: K. I love you so much.

  Me: Love you too, babe.

  Jessica and I hit Saks to finish shopping for our moms. Our moms love clothes and perfume as much as we do. We spend hours in Saks, and I buy everything I see that I think Mom would like, and I even pick up some jeans for Koi. After I check out, the manager approaches me. She is a beautiful woman with shoulder-length gray hair. Her smile is so warm that it makes her feel familiar.

  “Ms. Hendrix, can I ask you to step into my office for a moment?” she asks.

  I frown. “Is something wrong?”

  She hesitates. “Uh, no, ma’am. I have a call for you in my office.”

  A call? What is she talking about? Jessica’s phone chirps as I look at her for help with the manager. The look on her face is one of horror.

  “What is it, Jessica?”

  “Nothing. Let’s go take that call.”

  “Let me see the message.”

  “Come on, Hen. Let’s just go to the office.”

  “I swear to everything holy if you don’t show me the message, I will make a scene.” She flips her phone over for me to see.

  Samantha: Get her the fuck out of Saks. The shit just hit the fan!

  “What is she talking about?”

  “I honestly don’t know, Hen.”

  The paparazzi begins banging on the windows and call out my name. What the fuck is up with them? The manager is waiting impatiently.

  “Ms. Hendrix, for your own safety, I’m begging you to follow me to my office.”

  Jessica and I look at each other, and shrug. The manager escorts us to her office, but she stops Jessica outside the door. She whispers something in her ear, and Jessica struggles with her poker face. I can see the second shock and anger pass over her face, and I know no matter what I do, she won’t tell me what she heard. So, I sit in the middle of Saks wondering what the hell is going on in my life that the paparazzi act like I’m a cat in heat, and two of my best friends feel the need to be cryptic.

  An alert sounds on my phone, letting me know there is an update with my name on it. I set my bags down and take a seat in the chair in front of the manager’s desk. I open the alert and Google takes its time connecting me to the story with my name in it. I’m in the middle of the building inside another room, so the signal isn’t stellar. I wait some more. What now? Did someone hear me fart? Did I pick my nose in public? Did I forget to pay something?

  Google finally connects me the article.

  “Oh my God. Oh my God. No, no, no, no, no!” Jessica rushes to me. “Breathe, Henley. Breathe. Seriously, take some deep breaths.”

  “Please call Samantha.”

  Jessica calls Samantha’s L.A. office, but she doesn’t pick up her direct line. She tries her personal cell, but she doesn’t pick it up either. She then phones her secretary who also doesn’t pick up. They are avoiding me. This is what Samantha does when she is dealing with the Mack Daddy of cluster fucks. This can’t be happening. I need to talk to Samantha. Jessica spends the next ten minutes blowing up every phone Samantha can be reached on.

  When she finally answers her cell, she sounds defeated. “Hen?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where are you?” Her voice is so soft it scares me. Samantha is soft when the world is about to implode.

  “Saks.”

  “We gotta get you out of there. I’m going to work on an escape...”

  “Shut up, Samantha.” She rambles when she is nervous. She stops talking. I finally ask the one thing I need to know before I can figure out how in the hell I’m going to deal.

  “Is it true?” I ask.

  She doesn’t say anything for a long minute. “Yeah, Hen.”

  The tears run down my face, the phone drops, and I shake my head. “No. No. No. No. No. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I just can’t.”

  “I know, Hen,” she says.

  The End

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  Acknowledgements

  This book, this series, is a true collective effort. There were so many amazing souls that jumped on my crazy train in the last three years and helped me push these stories as far as they could go. I’ve never been more blown away than I was by the community, a tribe, that formed around me. I’ve met so many amazing friends, readers, bloggers, and authors on this journey, each of them touching my life in some way.

  To every single Guitar Goddess, thank you. You are my family. I don’t know another place on earth that exists with this much crazy. It’s a beautiful, crazy place, where women create drink names in honor of characters. It’s been a while since we’ve had Jagger Juice. There has been the occasional tour bus party with rock stars and bartenders, and fans hanging from the ceiling and even a pole. Inappropriate conversations regarding various foods and sexual acts that might be illegal. There’s randomly a not-so-subtle reminder of Snuff, motivating me with a heavy Italian guilt. Thank you, Guitar Goddesses, for every word you read, proofread, reviewed, pimped, shared, and loved. I would not be here without any of you.

  Bubbie, I love you. But seriously, it’s not very subtle; however, I enjoy it nevertheless. Thank you for your undying support, faith, and being the gatekeeper to my life.

  Next, I have to thank Scrappy. It’s already been a hell of a ride and it’s been slow. I can only imagine the trouble two rolling stones can find if left unsupervised. Looking forward to it! Thank you for all of your hard work and for believing in me.

  Mom, Dad, and Hillary, you’re the best fans. Love you.

  Michael, thank you for loving me for the dreamy, artistic, emotional, philosophical wanderer that I am. More importantly, thank you for understanding me when no one else can. Your belief in me is overwhelming. I love you like a fat kid loves cake.

  Leona, Samantha, Cory, Nate, Jessica M., Jessica Foxy, Jennifer, Kathrine, Mom, Bonnie and Michael, you were my first readers. You were the first people to give me a shot. Thank you.

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  About the Author

  Award-winning author Sasha Marshall is devoted to giving her readers humorous adventures with a love story sure to melt their hearts—and their minds. She wants you to laugh, cry, get angry, and sigh when you find redemption in the story, because that’s the roller co
aster of real life. Her knowledge of the music industry comes from being a touring concert photographer with legendary bands such as The Allman Brothers Band and others she met along the way. A self-proclaimed free spirit, she’s most often found outdoors, or painting a canvas, capturing a photograph, people watching, reading a book, or writing a new book or poem. Sasha makes her home in the beautiful state of Georgia and loves to hear from readers. Visit her website at SashaMarshall.com.