Bullet Series Box Set Books 1-8

by Jade C. Jamison

  It was important, though, because Brad had to deal with the money and contract issues. He was the one finishing things up, but more than that, he was also networking. He was the one befriending new bands and introducing himself to the people who made things happen. He was a naturally friendly guy, and he was convinced that was why they had regular shows. Not every band could claim that.

  It was a magical night that night, the kind of crowd and show Brad wished they could always play. He could feel the energy in the air, and—looking at his bandmates—he could tell they were feeling it too. By the time they took the stage, they were pumped, and the first part of the show was incredible. By the end, though, Ethan had dissolved into a puddle. He was on something, probably too much of something, and he wasn’t fully with them, wasn’t even aware how fucked up his playing was. If the audience would have noticed, Brad would have shooed him offstage. As it was, the audience was loving them and didn’t seem to be aware of Ethan’s continual fuck ups. Brad hoped his playing was covering up some of the worst ones. It made sense, though, because a lot of people didn’t know their songs really well, so it would be apparent to the band but not the new folks listening.

  When their set was over, they needed to clear the stage for the next band, a group of guys Fully Automatic had played with before, a band called Last Five Seconds. They were a few years older than Brad’s band, but they were solid and hardcore. Brad loved their music and was looking forward to watching their show.

  First, though, he needed to talk to Ethan. So they said their thank yous to the audience and relished the applause for a little bit, and then Zane, Nick, and Val started packing up. Brad walked Ethan offstage, though, and hoped his bandmates would understand why he wasn’t there for a few minutes. “Ethan, what the fuck are you taking, man?” His friend raised his eyebrows and started to talk, but Brad suspected it was going to be bullshit right off the bat. “Never mind. Here’s the rule. Fine if you gotta take something before a show. I get that. But take a little. If you gotta get blitzed, save it for after the show.”

  Ethan scowled. “The show was fine.”

  “The hell it was. You were fucking up left and right, hitting wrong notes and chords…when you bothered to hit them at all. Val had a hell of a time up there tonight, and that was thanks to you. You pull that shit again, I’m turning down your goddamn amps.” Ethan just stared at him and blinked through his long lashes. God, yes, the guy was hammered out of his mind. Then he shrugged as if to concede that Brad was right. “Go find a place to sit this shit out and be ready to go when the show’s over. We’ll pack up.” Ethan nodded and turned, stumbling off toward the crowd. Well, that wasn’t exactly what Brad had had in mind, but he hadn’t told his friend he had to sleep it off in the van.

  He and the other three decided to watch the show together right at the foot of the stage. He was glad, because he really liked these guys. Midway through the show, he was regretting it, though, because—if he wasn’t mistaken—their guitarist, a guy who went by the stage name Jet, was making eyes at Val the entire time. What the hell?

  He wondered if Val was even picking up on it, so he looked over at her. Yeah, she was. She smiled at Brad, but he could tell Jet had her under his spell. Chicks dug the guy. But Val? God, between Ethan and now Jet, he’d never have a chance. And seeing the way she looked at this guy made him start doubting she and Ethan were together, because they were definitely flirting through eye contact.

  Last Five Seconds finished their set and there was one more band that would play, but Brad was starting to worry about Ethan. He hadn’t seen him since he’d told him to go chill somewhere, and now he was starting to feel concerned. Chances were Ethan had found some girl to fuck around with for a while, but he had to know, because he had a bad feeling.

  He looked around inside the venue and couldn’t see him. It was cursory and he’d have the others help if he had to check again, but he wanted to look quickly first. Then he checked the men’s restroom—nothing. He was going to check the van last and then have the band assist if Ethan wasn’t there. But Ethan was sitting on a step outside, not far from the band exit area. Brad walked over to him, wanting to make sure it was him. There were lights outside but it was hard to see. As he got closer, he could tell it was Ethan, and he knelt over. “Ethan, how’s it goin’, man?” Ethan looked up at him, and the way his head wobbled, it looked like his neck was unable to support it. His eyes were glassy—Ethan was fucked up. Goddammit. “Did you take something else?” Ethan stared at him as though his brain wasn’t even processing his friend’s question. “Stay right here. I’ll be back.”

  Brad was sure Ethan wasn’t going anywhere, but this time he was scared. Ethan was fucked up beyond belief. He needed to find his friends and have them help decide what their next move was—did they rush their friend to the ER?

  He walked backstage. He saw Nick first and said, “We’re leaving now.” Nick excused himself from the girl he was with and said, “I’ve got other plans. I’ll find my own way home.”

  Brad nodded. “Okay. Show tomorrow night.” He wasn’t even going to worry Nick with whatever was going on with Ethan. The guy was going to get lucky tonight, and he didn’t want to interfere.

  So he made his way out front, hoping to find his other two band members. He spotted Zane talking to two girls. He was glad his friend was tall, because he was easier to spot. He caught his eye and Zane asked, “What’s up?”

  He didn’t want to make a big scene, but he wanted out of there. He got close. “Meet me by the exit in a minute. Ethan’s messed up and we gotta get him out of here.” He could tell Zane wasn’t happy about it either. The guy was making serious headway with these girls, but he wasn’t doing as well as Nick. He didn’t blame the guy for taking an extra minute to give them his number.

  Then he saw Val close by and she was talking with Jet. Yep, had he nailed that or what? Well, he was probably going to seem like a major dick to her too, but it couldn’t be helped. He walked over and said, “Val, we gotta go.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” He couldn’t pretend like he hadn’t noticed. “Hey, Jet. How’s it goin’, man? Great show, by the way.”

  “Thanks. You too. Nice addition to your band.”

  In spite of his overwhelming emotions—with Ethan and with Val—Brad couldn’t help but smile at her. “Yeah. We thought so too.”

  Jet said, “By the way, I really like my shirt on you.”

  Brad looked at Val and, for the first time that night, realized she was wearing a Last Five Seconds shirt that she’d altered. “Cool. Didn’t even notice.” Well, that wasn’t entirely true—he’d noticed the ripped-up shirt; he just hadn’t noticed it was a Last Five Seconds shirt. To Jet, he said, “See you around.” Val waved at him, flirting without words, but followed Brad, and as they got to the exit, Zane joined them.

  Zane asked, “What’s going on?”

  Brad answered. “Ethan. What else?” He pulled the keys out of his pocket and handed them to Zane. “Can you open the van? I’ll be right there.” He started walking toward Ethan. Val followed. Jesus, the guy was fucked up. “Wrap your arm around my neck, buddy.” Ethan didn’t respond. Brad wrapped his arms around Ethan and pulled him up, and Val wrapped Ethan’s arm around Brad and then got on the other side to help Brad lead him. He wasn’t completely out of it. Brad had at first thought he was going to have to drag Ethan, but his friend was moving his feet. He was grateful for that.

  By the time they got to the van, Ethan was mumbling, and it took a moment, but Brad realized what he was saying. “Back off, Val,” he said, and she didn’t appreciate it much until she saw Ethan lean over and vomit. It wasn’t pretty.

  Ethan said, “Thanks, man.” Brad was glad to hear his friend was coherent. He threw up again. Then, when he was done, Brad helped him up in the van, and he passed out on the long middle seat. But, a good sign—he’d mostly pulled himself inside. Brad slid the door closed behind Ethan.

  Brad needed their input
. His voice was low when he said, “I don’t know if I should take him to the ER or not.”

  Val’s voice was accusatory. “What’d he take, Brad?”

  “No fuckin’ idea.”

  “Why the hell does he do this?”

  Brad looked at her. They’d had this conversation before, and he wasn’t going to explain in detail all the ways Ethan was fucked in the head. Zane asked, “Nick coming?”

  “Nope. He’s got a ride.”

  “Yeah, I bet he’s got a helluva ride. Lucky motherfucker.”

  Brad wanted their assessment. He wasn’t the guy to ask. “So do we take him to the hospital or not?”

  Val asked, “How’s he doing?”

  “Better than before.”

  “Can I talk to him?”

  “I guess.” Brad looked at Zane then Val. “Good luck.”

  Val slid the door open again and got in. She knelt beside him on the floor and placed her hand on his forehead. It was painful for Brad to watch. Whether or not anything had transpired between the two, it was pretty obvious that Val worshipped the guy. Brad turned to face Zane—he wasn’t going to look, and he hoped he couldn’t overhear either. He kept his voice low, because he didn’t want Ethan overhearing their conversation. “What do you think?”

  Zane was no dummy. His voice was also barely above a whisper. “I have no idea what he took. With Ethan, you never know.”

  “No, I didn’t figure. I mean do you think we should take him to the ER?”

  “Oh, shit. I don’t know. It’s not like he’s never done this before. What are you thinking?”

  “Fuck.” Brad ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. That’s the problem. It’s like last time—I’m afraid if I take him and he really doesn’t need to be seen, then he’ll be pissed at me, but if I should take him…shit. I don’t know.”

  “What about this? As long as he seems clear, you know, like he seems now? Where he can talk a little and stuff, focus his eyes. Then maybe we don’t worry about it? Maybe he’s okay, you know. But, like, if he loses it, if he goes unconscious or anything, then he has no choice and we drag his ass there. I’ll support you, man.”

  Brad nodded. “Okay. That seems fair.”

  Val joined them back outside the van. She seemed less worried than she had before but more upset. So, Ethan had managed to put her mind at ease as far as his health, but he’d obviously said something to make her feel bad. Brad wasn’t completely surprised. She said, “He doesn’t want us to take him anywhere. He says he’s fine and just wants to go home.”

  “All right.” Brad was surprised that Val rode shotgun, but she did. She shouldn’t have bothered, though, because she was constantly watching Ethan to make sure he was okay. Zane was sitting in the back seat on his phone, and Brad imagined he was sexting one of the hot girls he’d been dragged away from, again thanks to Ethan.

  When they got home, both Brad and Zane helped Ethan to their apartment. He was walking some and his eyes were open most of the way, but he was feeling no pain. Val opened doors for them along the way.

  He and Zane continued leading Ethan and Brad said, “I’m gonna put him on the couch so we can keep an eye on him.”

  Val walked beside them. “Then I’m sleeping out here too.”

  “You can have my cot.”

  “No. I’m not taking your bed. I’ll just sleep in the chair.”

  “Val, don’t be ridiculous. The cot’s better than the chair.”

  She just smiled and left the room while Brad and Zane helped Ethan lie down. Brad pulled his friend’s sneakers off and asked Zane to grab Ethan’s sheet out of the closet. He asked Ethan, “You feel okay, man?”

  Ethan nodded and mumbled an affirmative. Brad and Zane went to the kitchen and both grabbed cans of Pepsi out of the fridge. Val walked past them into the living room and sat on the couch next to Ethan. Brad told Zane, “I’m going to sleep out here tonight and keep an eye on him. Anything fishy happens, I’m taking him.”

  “I’ll stay out here too. If you need my help, just say the word.”

  “I just wonder when he’s going to outgrow this shit.”

  Zane shrugged. “He might be one of those guys who never does.”

  Brad didn’t know what to say. He had to believe Ethan would get his shit together, but Zane was right. What if he never did? What if this was going to become a lifelong pattern?

  Val came back in the kitchen and grabbed a glass out of the cabinet, pouring a glass of water. Brad asked, “He still seem okay?”

  “He said he wanted something to drink. That’s a good sign, right?”

  By the time Brad and Zane made it to the living room and set up cots, Ethan was snoring, and Val had already staked a claim on the chair. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest as if challenging one of them to wake her up and ask her to move. Ethan seemed to be breathing fine. Brad did get him to roll over on his side, though. He’d heard one too many stories of guys choking on their vomit in their sleep, and, by God, Ethan wasn’t going to die on his watch.

  But he was just goddamned sick and tired of having to watch in the first place.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  BRAD WOKE UP the next morning to the sound of coffee brewing. He sat up, feeling a little panicked and out of sorts. He had checked on Ethan mid-morning but hadn’t awakened since. Neither Val nor Ethan were in the living room, so he got up to see what was going on. He grabbed his jeans off the floor beside the cot and slipped them on, followed by his t-shirt.

  He rolled his neck. He felt stiff. Coffee sounded perfect, but, more than that, he wanted to know how Ethan was doing. As he walked into the kitchen, he saw Valerie but no Ethan. “How’s he doing?”

  “He said he’s okay.”

  Things weren’t usually stiff between them, but it felt a little tense. She stood in front of the cupboard and pulled down two cups, filling them up with coffee. She grabbed the creamer and sugar and set them on the table and then set a cup of coffee for him on the table. “Thanks.”

  “Everything okay with you?” He was about to ask the same thing, but she no doubt sensed that he was still wondering what—if anything—was going on between her and Ethan. Still, he didn’t plan to say a word. He simply nodded. “You don’t seem too sure.”

  “It’s cool, Val. It is.”

  She stirred her coffee. “I just…worry about you too. I know you’re doing a lot for all of us, and I appreciate it.”

  He forced a smile because he knew she was expecting one. “Thanks.” She grabbed his hand, squeezing it. He heard the bathroom door open and she let go. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew exactly what that meant and why she did it.

  Ethan came into the kitchen seconds later. It looked like he’d just taken a shower. “Man, did I get fucked up last night.”

  Yeah, and it sounded like he was proud of it. Brad couldn’t help the “Jesus” that rushed out of his mouth.

  Val asked, “How are you?”

  He walked over to the cabinet to pull out a mug and poured himself some coffee. “I told you I’m fine. Not one-hundred percent, but I’m fine.”

  “We were worried about you. What did you take?”

  “Stop, Val. Christ. You’re not my mom.”

  Brad saw that Ethan’s words bit her. She sucked in a quick breath, and her eyes flashed with anger. When she looked at Brad, he studied her. Surely she remembered the conversation they’d had over the summer. As much as he wished he could bitch slap Ethan into thinking about his health and his future, he couldn’t. Stupid or not, Ethan was living his life and was doing exactly what he wanted to do. Until he decided to change, nothing any of them did or said would make a difference.

  He couldn’t take it right now. Whether or not there was anything between his two friends, he felt like he didn’t belong there at that moment. So he got up and used the excuse that he needed to take a shower. Really, he just needed some serious time alone.

  * * *

  Brad was glad to see Ethan was lucid for
the show that night. He hoped maybe Ethan would stop partying so hard and try to enjoy the performance.

  But Val was trying something new that night. He had no idea what had inspired it, but she was singing differently. She was doing some breathy hot thing with her voice, and he was pissed because it was a turn on.

  He found out later that he wasn’t the only one who thought her vocal antics were sexy as hell. They were in the van on the way back to the apartment and Nick said, “What the hell was that you were doing with your voice tonight, Val? Holy shit.”

  Zane added, “Yeah. That was some cool shit.”

  Yeah, Brad liked it too but he didn’t want her doing it all the time. “It was. But just make sure the audience can hear you.”

  Zane disagreed. “They could.”

  “Was I too quiet?”

  He had to explain. “Maybe a little too breathy.” He couldn’t tell her it would be hard for him to listen to it, and not because he wouldn’t be able to hear it. It wasn’t bad, though, and he knew he wasn’t coming from the right place. “But I liked it. It needs a little work, but keep doing it.”

  It had been a long week and Brad just wanted some rest. One of the bands they played with gave them a twelve-pack of beer, and they planned to drink a few while watching movies in the living room. Instead of watching movies, though, they talked about the concert. Brad was glad his bandmates could feel it too—something was changing with them, changing for the better, and they were growing and improving every time they got onstage. It was like hyper practice, and Brad was starting to believe that there was nothing better for their skills than playing live. He was convinced of it, because they’d never grown like this before, not when they were practicing in his mom’s garage.