Broken Lyric ((Meltdown book 2))

by RB Hilliard

  “He told you that?” Hank asked in a disbelieving tone.

  “He didn’t have to. You should have seen his face…heard his voice. He was devastated. He blames himself. He said that he had questions, but didn’t act on them.”

  “Such as?” I asked.

  “Things began to change about halfway through the tour. He started to notice things and began to question Chelle’s motives. He found pictures of me in Chelle’s bag with Mallory’s head cut out or burned off. He also discovered a vial of clear liquid in Chelle’s purse with no label on it. When he confronted her, Chelle always had an answer for everything. The pictures were old. She meant to throw them away. The vial was her emergency stash of insulin. Whenever she couldn’t explain something, she used sex as her weapon of choice.” Grant’s eyes cut to me. “You know what Chelle was like. “She made Chaz into a fucking sexual junkie.”

  Evan grinned at me. “You slept with her, too? Damn, this chick gets around.” Chelle might have been good in the sack, but she was one screwed up bitch. That’s why I never went back for more.

  “The week Rowan was kidnapped, Chaz and Chelle were having dinner at a little neighborhood restaurant a few blocks from her apartment. A guy walked in to pick up a To-Go order. Chaz said the guy looked straight at them, and by Chelle’s reaction, she recognized him.” Grant leaned forward. “Get this. It was Conor O’ Brien.”

  I sat straight up in my chair, and asked, “What do you mean it was Conor?”

  “Remember when Garrett was flashing around that picture of Conor and asking us if we’d ever seen him lurking around? Well Chaz recognized him as the guy in the restaurant getting takeout that night.”

  “Motherfucker! And he didn’t say a word,” I hissed in anger.

  “He didn’t want to let anyone know that he was seeing Chelle. Right around that same time, she had a bad diabetic attack. Chaz said that he ran to get her insulin from her purse. Only, it wasn’t there. When he asked her about it, she claimed that she carried insulin in a kit, not her purse. He didn’t think much of it until the day Rowan ingested the poison. He said that Chelle wasn’t answering her phone, and when he texted Paula and asked if she knew where Chelle was, he got a cryptic reply:

  You might want to look in your own backyard. Chelle said she’s finally finishing what she started.

  “That was when he knew. The pictures, Conor, the vial of insulin that clearly wasn’t insulin. He knew that Chelle had something to do with it all. So, he went to the hospital and he waited.

  “And the bitch showed up,” I said.

  “And the bitch showed up,” Grant affirmed.

  “What was her connection to Conor?” Hank asked.

  “Apparently, sometime during our last tour, Chelle bumped into Conor outside one of our venues. They struck up a conversation, and Conor showed her a picture.” His eyes drifted to me. “It was taken when Rowan and Maeve came to hear us play in Oklahoma. We had our arms around Maeve. Mallory and Rowan were chatting in the background. Evidently, Conor had circled Rowan’s image. When he asked Chelle about his friend Gillian, she was happy to tell him what she knew, including that the picture was actually Rowan Burns, Nash’s Mom’s nurse, and where to find her.”

  Now, seriously pissed off, I asked, “How do you know all of this?”

  “Garrett got ahold of the transcripts from the police interrogations,” Grant answered. “Chaz, Paula, and Chelle’s statements all line up and confirm what I’ve been telling you.”

  “I don’t get the Conor connection. Why would she kill the guy?” Evan asked.

  “She told the police that she didn’t have anything to do with Conor’s death, but then they found footage of her entering and leaving his building the same afternoon he was found dead. Even though she had on a hat and glasses they could tell it was her. Once they’d busted her, she cracked wide open. She killed Conor because she was afraid that he would tell Rowan that he’d seen her with Chaz.”

  “Rowan didn’t even know Chelle,” I snapped.

  “And Conor didn’t know Chaz,” Grant stated. The four of us stared at each other.

  “So she killed the guy for nothing?” Evan asked.

  Grant’s jaw clenched. “She was planning to kill Mallory all along. She was going to blame it on Chaz. When she saw Conor in that restaurant, she snapped, and her plan went off the rails. That’s when she got desperate.”

  “So Conor, Rowan, Chaz, and Paula were all just collateral damage,” Evan stated.

  I sat back in my chair in stunned silence. All of this had been the machinations of a sick and twisted bitch. How fucked up was that?

  Epilogue

  Rowan

  “We can’t, Nash.”

  “Yes we can. Grant and Mallory won’t even know we’re gone,” he murmured in my ear as he continued to slide his fingers in and out of my drenched pussy.

  “You’re going to mess up my dress and Mallory said she wanted more pictures before the night is over.” Nash pulled his fingers out of me, and began to unbutton his fly. When I got a good look at how aroused he was, I was a goner. Licking my lips in anticipation, I said, “Okay, but we have to make it quick.” A carnal smile appeared on his face as he sat back on the decorative sofa and watched me hike my dress up around my waist. As I quickly mounted his cock, he slid his hands under my dress, grabbed my bare ass, and pulled me down hard. I was impaled, in ecstasy, in love. Never in a million years did I think I could be this happy. Sparks of pleasure shot up my spine, and that’s when we heard it. Voices.

  Nash’s eyes slammed on mine, and narrowed. “Did you lock the door?” At the same time he asked the question, he lifted me up and pulled me back down.

  “No,” I answered as I bit back a groan. He’d just buried himself in me again, when the door suddenly flew open.

  “There you two are,” Grant’s mother, Melba, called out. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere–” she paused mid-sentence and got a dreamy look on her face. “I’m so happy for you Nashy. You two look perfect together. I love your hair, Rowan. I’ve been meaning to tell you that all night. You two can play kissy face later. Now, it’s time for pictures.”

  “We’re right behind you, Mrs. H,” Nash said. The moment she was gone, we burst into laughter and then finished what we’d started.

  * * *

  Nash

  The wedding was epic. Grant was the happiest I’d ever seen him. Mallory was a beautiful bride. As Evan and I stood there watching my best friend marry the love of his life, I couldn’t help but feel Chaz’s absence. He hadn’t reached out to us once since the day he’d left. Wherever he was, I hoped that he was okay.

  Rowan was absolutely stunning. Her hair fit her perfectly. She fit me perfectly.

  When I arrived home from Grant’s house after finding out that Chaz was gone, I was both pissed off and depressed. But then I saw them. Rowan’s things. It took me a moment to realize that it wasn’t only Rowan’s things, but mine as well. Mine and Mom’s. Childhood pictures, trophies, and memorabilia from both of our lives were scattered through our house. Our house. It had a certain ring to it.

  “What do you think?” Rowan asked from the top of the stairs.

  “I think I want to marry you,” I blurted.

  After she picked her jaw up off the floor, she wittily replied, “Wow, had I known this would be your reaction I would have done it months ago.” Then she squealed with laughter as I darted up the stairs after her.

  Two days later, I made it official. We hadn’t set a date, but I had a friend hook me up with a massive rock and there was now a ring on her finger that let the world know that she was mine.

  Grant, Evan, and I had come to an agreement. We were going to let Chaz lick his wounds, and then we were going after him. No matter how much of a cranky dick he could be, Chaz Jones was a part of Meltdown. We just wouldn’t be the same without him.

  The End

  If you’d like a little more from RB, here’s a sneak peek from book one of her MMG Series, H
is End Game.

  Chapter One

  Max McLellan appeared on my radar the very first day of my freshman year in high school. I was standing at my locker wondering how I was going to get all of my homework done and cook dinner for my aunt later that night, when I felt an elbow in my ribs.

  “I’m ignoring you,” I told my best friend, Piper. She’d been blatantly trolling the halls for cute boys for the past thirty minutes, and I was having trouble organizing my locker while listening to her never-ending commentary. Piper O’Connell and I had been best friends since fourth grade, when she moved to Charlotte from Texas. With a head full of strawberry blonde hair and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, she was extremely loud, very direct, and the polar opposite of me. I loved her with all of my heart, but sometimes she was exhausting.

  Like right now.

  “Oh my,” I heard her say. “Ellie, you’re so gonna want to see this.”

  Pulling my head out of my locker, I glanced at what held her attention. A group of guys was sauntering down the hall toward us. I rolled my eyes and was about to resume organizing when I spotted him. He had on black biker boots that were partially concealed under his faded denim jeans. A black t-shirt hugged him in all the right places. From what I could see, he had collar-length black hair, but since it was peeking out from under a baseball cap turned backwards, I wasn’t able to get the complete picture. Naturally tan, his slightly bearded face was flawless. I stood there drinking in all six plus feet of this man-looking boy and was disappointed I couldn’t see his eyes behind his reflective sunglasses.

  What color are your eyes, beautiful boy? I really want to know…

  He was flanked on all sides by crazy hot guys.

  It’s raining men, hallelujah popped into my head, and I tried not to laugh. Before breaking out into song and dance, which was way more Piper’s style than mine, the girl standing next to us chimed in.

  “Beautiful, aren’t they? It’s a shame they’re off limits.”

  “Nothing is off limits,” Piper replied in a challenging tone.

  “Those boys are,” the girl insisted. “They go for hot older girls who put out.”

  “I put out,” Piper declared, clearly offended. This made me laugh.

  “Trust me, you do not qualify. Those boys would eat you up and spit you out.”

  Wow, she’s really serious. Maybe Piper should back off.

  Not at all interested in sharing my sexual status, or lack thereof, I nodded my head in biker boy’s direction and asked, “Who’s the one in the middle?”

  “That–” she stressed “–is Max McLellan. He’s tough, but fun to look at.”

  I was about to ask what she meant when the first bell rang.

  Crap! I hadn’t finished organizing my locker.

  “I’ll call RJ tonight and get the scoop,” Piper said.

  Richard James, better known as RJ, was one of Piper’s big brothers. He was now a freshman in college. Even though he’d spent his last two years of high school away at boarding school, he still knew everyone, and was our official go-to guy for information.

  As it turned out, the only thing RJ knew about Max was that he could kick some serious ass, was a chick magnet, and liked older girls.

  Thanks for nothing, RJ.

  * * *

  Throughout ninth and tenth grade, I would see Max and his friends in the halls. They were enjoyable to watch and provided hours of fodder for my daydreams. Day in and day out I watched him. He was always either surrounded by his friends or a mass of girls. Every now and then I would catch him looking my way, at least that’s what I told myself and, each time it happened, it made my day. Yes, I was pathetic.

  The summer before my junior year, my life took a turn for the worse. It was a Thursday and I had the day off from Providence, the café where I waited tables. I had my black, polka-dotted, skimpy bikini on as I was going to lie out in my backyard. Carrying my iPod in one hand and my iced tea in the other, I was headed out the door when my phone rang. Seeing Piper’s name on the Caller ID, I hit the Talk button, and said, “Put on your skimpiest bikini and come lay out with me.” I heard her sniffle and instantly knew something was wrong.

  “Honey, what’s wrong?”

  “Mom and Dad are making me go away to school next year,” she tearfully responded. “They just told me we are leaving in a few days to visit schools and I’ll be going off this coming year. They won’t listen to me, El. They don’t care that I don’t want to leave. They just want me out of the house so they can travel and party without the hassle of having to deal with me.”

  Travel and party? Really?

  Richard and Marie O’Connell were two of the nicest people on the planet. They treated me like their own child, and I dearly loved them. Coming from old money, they’d both been raised in boarding school families, where all of the kids went off to school in ninth grade. I was surprised they’d let RJ, Rex, and Piper stay at home through their sophomore year. I did not, however, voice this out loud. I was heartbroken. I was losing my best friend for our last two years of high school.

  Three days later, I said good-bye to a depressed Piper and a morose-looking Richard and Marie. By the time Piper returned a week later, she’d chosen a school in Virginia and it was a done deal.

  * * *

  Piper leaving weighed heavily on my heart. I didn’t want her to go away. I didn’t want to be left alone with my aunt. For as long as I could remember, Piper and her family had been my buffer. They were who I ran to when I couldn’t take the criticism or negativity from home any longer. Take them away and I was…alone. The only saving grace was my job at Providence.

  My aunt demanded that I get a job the summer before my freshman year in high school. She believed working would keep me out of trouble. Piper’s mom thought this was silly, but being her awesome motherly self, she introduced me to her friend, Amy, who owned Providence. Not only was Amy laid back and extremely cool, but she let me pick up as many shifts as I wanted, whenever I wanted. Two years later, I held the title of the longest lasting employee.

  The week before the start of my junior year, I was working when a girl about my age came strutting into the café drenched from head to toe. The confident way she walked reminded me of Piper, who’d been gone for over a week. It had been a long, lonely, rainy week without her. Shaking off my nostalgia, I sat the wet girl in my section and, since she was my only customer at the time, proceeded to chat with her.

  “Looks crazy out there,” I said, nodding my head toward the park. “What can I get for you?”

  “A beer?” she asked, winking at me. I immediately liked her.

  “How about a Coke?” I smiled.

  I discovered her name was Josselyn Speilman but she preferred Joss. Like me, Joss was about to turn seventeen and was going to Myers Park High School. Her family had recently moved to Charlotte from Washington DC. I watched her ring out her gorgeous curly, white-blonde hair and felt a stab of envy. I couldn’t help but notice the contrast between the two of us. She was the all American girl with perfect hair and big blue eyes. Next to my long, blondish brown hair and odd shaped golden eyes, she looked like a fairy. We talked for a while about the upcoming year before I had to break away and take other orders.

  As I was cashing out a customer, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  “I have to get going but wanted to give you my phone number, in case you ever want to talk or hang out,” Joss said.

  I walked her to the door, exchanged numbers, and said good-bye. For the first time since hearing that Piper was leaving, I found myself looking forward to something.

  * * *

  Piper decided not to come home for Thanksgiving, which I took personally. I’d filled every second of every day since the first day of school with homework and work. The only enjoyment I allowed myself time for was watching Max in the halls, talking to Piper on the phone, listening to music and reading. I had been counting the days until Thanksgiving break and seeing Piper again. When she told
me she was spending the week with a friend from school, it really shook me.

  The first few days of break, I moped around. Then, not being able to stand the silence any longer, I picked up the phone and dialed Joss. It wasn’t that I didn’t have other friends. I did. I just wasn’t interested in who was getting cheated on, screwed, or dumped. I liked boys, a lot. I just didn’t plan my life around them. I’d seen Joss in the halls at school and, like me, she seemed a little lost. I hadn’t made an effort to reach out and felt it was way past time, so I called her up and invited her over.

  It turned out Joss was a scary movie addict. In fact, she brought over a few of her favorite horror flicks for us to watch. I greatly disliked scary movies and practically hid under the sofa the whole time.

  We’d just finished watching A Nightmare on Elm Street and were popping popcorn before watching Halloween, when she asked the dreaded question everyone eventually got around to asking me. “Is it too personal or can I ask you why you live with your aunt and not your parents?” It wasn’t that I minded talking about it. It was the look of pity I received after telling my story that got to me. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That was rude of me to ask.”

  “No, it’s fine. It’s just that every time I tell someone, they look at me different, and I really hate that.”

  “Hey,” she said, “trust me when I say that your story can’t be much worse than mine.”

  Wanna bet?

  Internally sighing, I began to explain, “My parents slept together in high school and…oops–” I pointed to myself – “conceived me.” It was hard explaining my mom’s slutty tendencies, so I just gave it to her short and sweet. “Supposedly, my mom really got around. When she told my dad she was pregnant, he offered to pay for an abortion, but only because he couldn’t deny he’d taken a turn on her merry-go-round and there was a chance I could be his kid. He got really angry when she told him she was having me and, before I was even born, he left town. About a month before my birth, she decided she didn’t want to be tied down by a kid after all, so she began adoption procedures. That’s when Aunt Elizabeth, my dad’s older sister, stepped in and stopped her.”