Bullet Series Box Set Books 1-8
Page 109
He pushed all the shit out of his head and focused on the music. Music had never let him down. It had always been there for him, in good times and bad, and he could always focus his emotions through it. So he muted his brain and homed in on his guitar and the audience and let the bad stuff go.
After the show, though, there was no way to ignore those feelings. But he knew what he had to do, and that was to figure out how to give up on the idea of Val—for now, at least. In spite of whatever there was between him and the girl, Ethan had a greater pull on her. It was like the guy was a black hole, and anything nearby got sucked into his pull. Whatever Val’s feelings for Brad, they were no match for the gravitational draw of Ethan. He didn’t stand a chance. And he was tired of throwing his heart out there to be shredded by this girl whom he had grown to love. He couldn’t let it happen anymore.
He considered being completely honest with her, telling her that he’d grown to care for her deeply over the past few months. Something about writing together—whether online or in person—had done that to him. But no. She’d think he was a fool because she obviously didn’t feel the same way. And he didn’t want to appear weak in her eyes either. The only thing he had going for himself was who he already was and what he let her see. If she didn’t love him back, there was no way he could show her that part of him.
And maybe it was irrational and stupid. Maybe he’d grown to care about her so much because she reminded him of Leah, his true first love. He knew now that he was over Leah, but he wondered if it was because he’d turned those attentions onto Val. He had no way of knowing for sure.
In the meantime, though, he had to play it cool. So they loaded up the van and trailer and watched the other acts. Then, at the end of the evening, they got in the van in search of a cheap motel. Until he could sort through his emotions, he had to act like everything was normal. So he sat in the driver’s seat and Val in the passenger seat, and he asked, “So…what did you think of your first show?”
She was quiet for a few moments as she let his words sink in. She was still in a bit of a trance, it appeared, and he didn’t know if that was from performing or from Ethan laying one on her. She looked ahead at the traffic in front of them and said, “Wow. It was amazing.”
Brad nodded. “And what did I tell you? You were great.”
“I can barely remember the first part of the show, though. It’s like I was in a daze.”
He couldn’t help but smile, because he remembered what his first show had felt like. He hadn’t been as nervous as Val (of course, he’d had a beer before going onstage), but he remembered feeling out of it, yet in awe and completely jazzed. There really was nothing like being under the lights.
“It’s not over yet. After I pay for the hotel and keep some for gas, I’ll divide what’s left among us. You’ll get your first paycheck.”
“Oh, yeah. I hadn’t thought of that.”
He grinned. “Don’t hold your breath. It’s really not much.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll get paid for doing that. That’s awesome.”
“We need to start running a merch table regularly too. That’ll bring in money too.”
“Oh.” He glanced over and could tell she was thinking about it. It was all sinking in. It was just too new. So he simply listened to the radio and drove down the road to an area where he knew there were lots of motels, and it was just a matter of picking the one that looked least offensive while not costing too much.
When he found one that seemed to fit the bill (that also had a lit-up old-fashioned Vacancy sign), he pulled in. Val got out with him, and while he wasn’t sure why, he wasn’t going to complain. Still…he didn’t want to spend a lot of time with her, not yet. He needed the raw feeling to dissipate. He wasn’t going to tell her she couldn’t come with him, though.
He approached the desk, and the clerk looked up from the book she was reading. The gal wasn’t much older than they were. Brad said, “Do you have any rooms with two double beds?”
“Yeah.”
“I need one of those please.”
Val said, “I need to get my own room.”
He looked over at her. “That’ll double the cost, Val. We’ll make sure you have your own bed.”
The clerk looked up from the computer screen and said, “We can get you a cot. Then you’ll have three beds.”
Brad nodded and looked over at Val. She had to be comfortable with it. Hell, he could sleep on one of the back seats in the van for all he cared, but he liked the idea of a shower. Val took a deep breath and looked at him, her eyes pleading. “I promised my dad, Brad. My dad.”
He sighed. He wasn’t going to argue it. He understood where she was coming from. “All right.” Maybe, too, that would keep Ethan’s hands off her.
“But I’ll pay for it. I don’t want to cut into our earnings.”
“Fuck that.” He glanced at the smiling clerk, realizing he’d dropped an F-bomb. “Oh, sorry.” He looked back to Val. “No way. You keep doing what you did tonight, you’ll be earning that goddamned room.” He looked back at the clerk. “I guess two rooms. One a double, the other a single. Any way you can get them close to each other?”
The clerk tapped on the old computer. “Yeah. Next door.”
Brad pulled out his wallet and driver’s license. The clerk did more tapping and then handed them keys. Old-fashioned metal keys. Val didn’t know motels did real keys anymore. He handed her the one for the single, and they walked back out to the van. He had a big grin on his face. “At least if we’re next to each other, there’s less chance of neighbors complaining about a noisy party.”
She had a deadpan look on her face. “That’s what you think.”
They got back in the van, and Brad moved the van so he could park it closer to where their rooms were. When they grabbed their luggage, Brad asked, “Are you gonna hang with us for a while?”
“Yeah. Just give me a minute.”
Brad didn’t necessarily feel up to continuing to wear a happy face, but he thought it would be noticeable if he didn’t at least try. Besides, one of the other guys would have invited her if he hadn’t. In less than ten minutes, they were all in the guys’ room, and Zane had wasted no time setting out the three bottles he’d packed.
Zane passed the bottles around, but Val waved her hand to indicate she didn’t want any, instead drinking the bottled water she’d brought with her.
Ethan sat across from her and kept his hands to himself, but he said, “Val, Brad and I were okay on vocals, but you blow us out of the water. You’re exactly what we needed.” Brad hoped Ethan was sincere and meant it. He hoped the guy wasn’t just flattering her, although Ethan had used his charm in that way on other girls in the past. Brad knew his emotions were clouding his judgment, so he kept his mouth shut. He hoped Ethan wasn’t working some angle.
Zane took a swig from his vodka bottle and said, “Yeah, and you keep wearing shit like that, our fan base’ll grow a lot faster.”
Val laughed but didn’t say anything. Brad could tell she didn’t like the thought, but she simply said, “I hope it grows because we’re a kick ass band.”
Nick said, “Of course, it will. And we just got better tonight.”
“Seriously,” Zane said, taking another drink, “we’ll get even better as we go. We already sounded great tonight. Can you imagine what a month or two together will do?”
Ethan was mellowing out. Brad could tell he’d taken something, but he hadn’t seen him do it. He’d probably done it when he’d gone to take a piss before Val had arrived. Or it was his earlier indulgence just lasting a long time. But he got quiet.
Brad took a long swig. He wanted to drown out some of the stronger emotions he was feeling, but he couldn’t drink too much, because then he might not be able to hold his tongue. It was a fine line he had to walk. But he drank as much as he thought he could handle, and he wound up tuning them out part of the time. He was doing a lot of soul searching when he should have been celebrating a huge s
uccess. At one point, Valerie asked, “Everything okay?”
Fuck. He forced a smile on his face. “Yeah. Just a little tired, I guess.”
“Yeah. Me too. I should probably head to bed.”
She did seem tired too and left shortly after. Brad was surprised the guys didn’t demand they scope for girls, but they seemed to be enjoying each other’s company. They wound up finding a movie on the television, and Brad used it as an excuse to drift off, just lying on top of the bed in his clothes with his shoes off.
So he’d managed to avoid having to think about it, but he woke up the next morning and lay in bed for a good hour, mulling it all over. He didn’t feel a bit better about it, and the longer he lay there, the more he thought he needed to get a few things off his chest with Val. He needed to be honest with her and let her know where he was coming from. He needed to try to just let her know what she was doing to him. He felt brave now, but facing her…would he be able to say what he needed to?
He needed coffee and breakfast. But, first, a shower. He took a lukewarm one, because it was already feeling overly warm in the room. The air conditioner in the room didn’t seem to work very well. He supposed that was okay, because he was hoping to hit the road by noon. He had to work the next day, and he wanted to get home with a little time to relax.
After he showered and changed into clean clothes, he wrote a note for the guys. They wouldn’t want breakfast with the hangovers they were bound to have acquired, but if they woke up, he wanted them to know he’d be back soon. Then he put the room key, his phone, and his wallet into his back pockets and stepped outside. At first, he thought he’d go eat breakfast and then see if Val was up and available to talk, but then he decided to text her. No better time than the present. U up?
It wasn’t a minute later that she responded. Yep.
He couldn’t resist. He knocked on her door. Seconds later, she opened the door a crack and peeked out. “Gimme a second. I need to get dressed.”
He grinned. “I could help you with that.” Well, that was fuckin’ stupid. She obviously wouldn’t like that.
But she smiled back. “I’m sure you could.”
He leaned against the wall of the motel. The sun was already beating down, but it felt good on his skin. He closed his eyes and relaxed until he heard her door open again a few minutes later. “So what’s up?”
She looked as sweet as ever, and seeing her in simple, faded, snug blue jeans and a Black Tide t-shirt made him feel dopey. She had no idea what she did to him. But he needed to talk with her, and he definitely had to get his shit together when it came to the girl. He had to stop thinking of her as anything other than a friend, and the sooner he did that, the better. So he tried to sound casual, tried to sound like just a friend…which was what they were, and friends commiserated. “Jesus…those guys are trashed. They’re gonna be fun on the drive home. I need to get some breakfast and coffee and just wanted to know if you want to come with.”
“Sure.” She slid some sandals on. Then she grabbed her purse, throwing her room key and phone inside, and took a ponytail scrunchie off the dresser. As they stepped out the door, she pulled her hair up and away from her face.
When they got in the van, he decided to cruise down one of the main drags until he saw a restaurant that looked halfway appealing. But he couldn’t talk. Not yet. The time wasn’t right. The music was blaring, and that was okay. It would help him focus.
It wasn’t too long that he found a diner that screamed pancakes and greasy eggs. He imagined they had a pot of coffee on all day, and that was the kind of place where he wanted to be right now. He parked but didn’t shut off the engine. He turned the music down and looked at Val. “This okay?” If it wasn’t appealing to her, he’d keep driving.
“Yeah. It’s fine.”
The waitress was efficient. Brad imagined she’d been doing the same job at the same diner for a good decade. She wasn’t rude, but she wasn’t polite either—just matter of fact. He didn’t care, though, because she was fast. They had their menus and had barely scanned them when she brought the coffee they’d requested. Then she took their orders and whisked their menus away. Brad poured cream in the coffee and put a spoonful of sugar in and stirred it, trying to think of how to start the conversation.
But Val wasn’t a fucking idiot. He needed to give her credit for that. She was stirring cream in her coffee too when she said, “Um…about last night…”
And then he felt bad. He must have been doing a shitty job at hiding his feelings, and he didn’t want her to feel guilty. He knew as well as anyone that people couldn’t logically decide who they wanted to fall in love with. Val was human just like he was, and the fact that she knew it had bothered him made him feel like a shitheel. He looked up from his coffee and shook his head. “No…Val, we don’t need to do this.” He could be happy having her as just a friend. He didn’t want to cause her pain by making her talk about it—Ethan inflicted enough on her as it was.
She lowered her voice, but her eyes didn’t waver. “I’d like to.”
Goddamn. He had to give her credit. That was classy. Okay…so he’d find a way to say what she needed to hear. He couldn’t look at her, though. Just couldn’t. He stared into the cup of brown liquid and thought hard. What should he say? How should he say it? Honesty. Even if he couldn’t say anything important, he knew he couldn’t lie to Val, not about something so close to his heart. So he let out another breath and finally forced his lips to move. “I knew what I was up against.” He looked at her. This was gonna hurt. “I know where your heart is, and I chose to take that chance anyway.” He inhaled sharply. He couldn’t help what he was feeling, and shit…he was going to try to find a way to bury it, but for now…for now, he was raw and exposed, and he had to get it out. “I told you…I’m a patient man.” And that was fucking stupid—because it was turning out to be true.
She was quiet for a bit. He could hear the other noises in the restaurant, aside from his own steady breaths in and out of his lungs. He could hear spoons clinking against coffee cups. He could hear some stupid elevator tune blaring out of a staticky speaker somewhere overhead. He heard the two old guys behind him talking about a baseball game. He could hear the cooks laughing in the kitchen and then one of them ringing an old-fashioned bell and yelling, “Order up.” And, meantime, his life was passing by, and, for the moment, it felt meaningless.
Val finally spoke, and her voice was so quiet, he had to strain to hear. “Still…whether I’d expected what you saw or not…I’m sure you didn’t appreciate seeing that.”
She had that right, but he felt like it was better that he had seen it, because then she couldn’t deny it or pretend it hadn’t happened. He had to hold down the emotion. He was going to come across as angry or more hurt than he wanted her to know, so he had to rein it in before he spoke. He couldn’t look at her again, so he took a sip of his coffee and let his eyes follow the cup back to the table. “Doesn’t matter. It was a good reminder.”
She reached across the table and touched his hand. “Hey…” He looked up and didn’t pull his hand back, but it stung. He knew she’d made her choice; she wasn’t denying it. “You are…one of the best men I know.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean? That made him feel even more like shit, because if he really was all that to her, why did she run to Ethan? Yeah, Brad would have done anything for the guy, loved him like a brother, but he’d be a fucking liar—and so would she—if he’d said Ethan was an upstanding citizen. He couldn’t think of what to say and could have kissed the crusty waitress when she rescued him seconds later with their food. How she carried it all—syrup, two plates, and a pot of coffee to refill their cups, he’d never know—but he was grateful to have the distraction. Talking to Valerie about her irrational infatuation of Ethan had proved to be fruitless and painful, and damned if he’d ever make that mistake again.
He’d rather have a flaming hot fork shoved in his chest. He suspected it wouldn’t hurt as badly.
Chapter Twenty-five
AS THOUGH TO add insult to injury, Val decided she needed to talk to Brad about Ethan on the ride back to the motel. It was as if she were trying to find new ways to torment him. “So what’s Ethan taking, Brad? Do you know?”
Oh, God. Why? But he cared about both Ethan and Valerie. If she was kind, she’d let it drop. “Hmm…what?”
No such luck. “Come on, Brad. I’m not stupid. What’s Ethan been on lately?”
She was going to make him talk about it. Maybe he could discourage her. So he shook his head and said, “You really don’t wanna know.”
“Yeah, actually, I really do.”
God, she was being stubborn. He pulled the van into the motel parking lot. After he parked and shut off the engine, he turned to face Valerie. “I’m not positive, but I’m pretty sure he’s taking Vike.”
“Vike?”
“Vicodin.”
“How do you know?”
He was irritated that he even had to have this conversation, but he figured it would only be fair to be honest. “I don’t, Val. But I have my reasons for why I think that.”
He grabbed the door handle, planning to could get out of the van, but Val grabbed his arm. “Wait. Just tell me. Why?”
He inhaled and looked out the window. How much did he want to tell her? How much would be enough to satisfy her? But, goddammit, he couldn’t bring himself to be dishonest with her. He doubted he’d ever be able to. He looked back at her, ready to tell her whatever she needed so she could let it go. “A couple years ago, his mom had some in the medicine cabinet…leftovers from something, and she never used the rest of ‘em. So we both took one before going to a party. Well…we wound up not going to the party. We were wasted. It was…hard to describe. Pretty peaceful feeling. I didn’t want to do anything, just lay there, vegging, watching whatever stupid movie we were watching on TV. And then I just wanted to sleep. But Ethan…over the next year, he’d take one now and then until the whole goddamn bottle was gone.”