Blow My Fuse (Hollywood Demons Book 2)

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Blow My Fuse (Hollywood Demons Book 2) Page 25

by Autumn Jones Lake


  “Hey,” Alvin calls out, jogging down the sidewalk to catch up to us. “Andrew called looking for us. He wants to meet up at Pogo’s Deli to celebrate. You up for it?”

  Chaser raises an eyebrow at me, and I shrug. “Why not.”

  After the deli, we somehow end up back at our place with Andrew in tow.

  He bops around our apartment, checking out everything from our bathroom to my bedroom closet. “Oh, man, this reminds me so much of my first place. You guys are way neater though.”

  “Go, sit.” I shoo him out of our bedroom. “Chaser has something for you to listen to.” And I don’t want to leave him alone anywhere near my underwear drawer.

  The phone rings, and I hurry to answer, pulling it into the kitchen to blunt the noise the guys are making out in the living room.

  “Mallory?” Audrey’s weak voice has me pressing the phone to my ear harder.

  “Audrey? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m at…I’m at the hospital. Can you come pick me up?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Not really.” She gives me the address. Unfortunately, I have no idea where it is and no way to get there, but I promise to pick her up and ask her to wait for me.

  After hanging up, I poke my head out of the kitchen. “Chaser?”

  I motion for him to join me. For some reason, Andrew follows.

  Too eager to get to Audrey, I don’t bother telling Andrew to leave when they both join me in the kitchen.

  “Uh, Audrey’s in the hospital.”

  “Is she okay?” Chaser asks.

  “I don’t know. She didn’t tell me much.”

  “Who’s Audrey?” Andrew asks.

  By now, I know he’s impervious to my scowls, so I do the easier thing and answer, “My friend.” My gaze returns to Chaser. “She asked if we can come pick her up.”

  “Yeah, I’ll get Garrett’s car.”

  “I’ll take you,” Andrew offers. “My truck’s right downstairs.”

  I’m torn. Do I want to subject Audrey to an obnoxious man-child when she’s hurt or waste time tracking down Garrett to get his car keys?

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?” I ask.

  Andrew pulls his keys out of his pocket and waves them at me. “Nope. Let’s go.”

  It turns out Andrew was a good choice because he knows his way to the hospital. “Kyle got drunk and totaled his car right after our first album dropped. Spent a lot of time here,” he says almost solemnly.

  “I remember reading about that,” Chaser says.

  “Yeah, it was totally fucked up.”

  He pulls up in front of the Emergency Room, and I hop out. It’s dark, so I don’t notice Audrey sitting on the bench right outside the doors at first.

  “Mallory.”

  My jaw drops as soon as my gaze lands on her black eye and split lip. “Audrey! What happened?”

  She shakes her head, drawing my attention to the angry bruises around her neck. “I can’t. Please.”

  “Come here.” I pull her close and gently wrap my arms around her. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” she whispers.

  “Everything all right?” Chaser’s concerned tone breaks through my confusion.

  Audrey pulls away and wipes her cheeks.

  “Jesus,” Chaser breathes out. “What happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Audrey?” he insists.

  She glances at the hospital doors. “Not now, okay. Please. I need to get out of here.”

  “Yeah, all right. Come on. Let’s get you home.”

  Chaser helps her into the narrow backseat, and I squeeze in next to her.

  “Oh shit, were you in an accident?” Andrew asks, watching us from the rearview mirror.

  Audrey aims a who-the-fuck-is-this expression my way.

  “Audrey, this is our friend, Andrew. He offered to drive…” My voice trails off, it really doesn’t matter.

  “Thank you, Andrew,” Audrey whispers.

  “No problem.” He glances at Chaser. “Where we headed?”

  Chaser turns to speak to Audrey. “You want to go home?”

  “Please.”

  Chaser gives him the address, which turns out, isn’t far from Andrew’s place.

  Once we’re on the move, Audrey leans her head on my shoulder and quietly sobs. I wrap her up in my arms, trying not to squeeze her too tight. “Please tell me what happened,” I whisper. “Did Doug—”

  “No.” Her sharp whisper prompts Chaser to glance over his shoulder, but he doesn’t speak. “Please. I don’t want him to know.”

  “Okay but what happened?”

  “A client. A regular. He’s always been…rough. But never like this.” She sniffles, and I don’t have anything to wipe the tears off her cheeks but my T-shirt. She winces at the contact and pushes my hand away “I only met with him because the agency insisted I tell him I was quitting in person. And he just lost it.”

  “I’m sorry.” I’m so choked up from the resignation and pain in her voice I don’t know what else to say.

  We pull into her driveway, and I help her into the house, depositing her on the couch. “Do you want me to make some tea?”

  She nods.

  Andrew and Chaser followed us into the house. I’m trying to think of a tactful way to ask Andrew to wait outside. Having a stranger in her home after whatever happened to Audrey can’t be helping. Thankfully, he’s quiet for once, observing everything from a darkened corner of the living room.

  “Audrey, I couldn’t overhear everything you guys were talking about,” Chaser says.

  “Good. You weren’t supposed to.” She pulls a blanket around her, up to her chin.

  From the kitchen, I watch Chaser shifting from foot to foot. Agitated but trying to be calm. I fill her tea kettle and set it on the stove.

  “Chaser,” I call.

  Ignoring me, he squats down in front of Audrey and takes her hand. “Please tell me what happened.”

  “Why? So you can tell me it’s my own fault?”

  He ignores her defensiveness and keeps his voice gentle. “Did someone do this to you?”

  She glares at him. “No, I walked into a wall. Several of them.”

  “Who?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She turns her head away from his pleading eyes.

  I return to the living room and pull one of the chairs closer to the couch. “Did you talk to the police?”

  She snorts, then winces. “Whores can’t be victims.”

  Chaser’s jaw tightens.

  “Audrey.” I squeeze her hand. “Let’s talk to someone else then. I’ll go with you.”

  “It won’t matter. It never does.”

  “Audrey,” Chaser says, “Where did this happen?”

  “At the Palm. A worker heard me screaming and…interrupted. Otherwise, I’d probably be dead.” She coughs, and her face contorts with pain. “Poor guy probably got fired for his troubles,” she wheezes.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “This client’s well connected.” She hisses. “Strong for such an old fucker, too.”

  Chaser flicks his gaze at me, but I’m not sure what he’s asking.

  Andrew steps forward. “Which room?”

  Audrey slowly slides her gaze his way. “Thank you for the ride, but why are you still here?”

  “Do you want us to call Doug for you?” Chaser asks, drawing Audrey’s attention back to him.

  “No!” Audrey sits up and sucks in a pained breath. “Please. I don’t want him to know.”

  “Audrey, he cares about you. He’ll want to know,” Chaser insists.

  “He’s out of town, so it won’t matter.” She glares at him. “He knows, so if you think you owe him some man favor by telling him what his whore girlfriend was up to, don’t bother.”

  Chaser grits his teeth. “That’s not why I want to call him, Audrey.”

  “Sure, it is. I know what you’re thinking; I got exactly what I deserve.”

  �
�Jesus Christ, Audrey. Really?” Chaser pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m fucking worried about you.”

  “Right.” Audrey’s inner wounded animal isn’t finished lashing out yet. “That’s why you were such a jerk about Mallory and I being friends.”

  “Audrey,” I say but Chaser’s not letting her comment slide.

  “Yes, I was an asshole back then and I’m sorry. Now, please let me help you.”

  She blinks at him. “How can you help me?”

  “Give me the guy’s name and the room number.”

  “Fuck yeah,” Andrew mutters.

  “Are you crazy?” She sits up, tossing the blanket aside.

  The tea kettle blows, startling me out of my chair. I hurry into the kitchen to pour tea for Audrey, swirling in a generous amount of honey.

  When I return, she accepts the cup and takes a tentative sip.

  “What kind of connected are we talking about, Audrey?” Chaser asks after she sets the mug on the coffee table. “Mafia? Hollywood? What?”

  I raise an eyebrow at mafia because that hadn’t occurred to me.

  “Mafia?” Audrey shakes her head. “What can you do if he is?”

  “A slightly different plan.” He curls his fingers in a hurry up gesture. “Tell me.”

  “He’s a big-name actor, Chaser. You can’t go after him.”

  “Give me his name.”

  I actually gasp when she finally whispers the name because I recognize it well. He’d been one of my mother’s favorite actors.

  Chaser nods. “Can I borrow your phone?”

  Audrey points to the counter.

  We watch in silence as Chaser picks it up and dials a number, pulling out the antenna of the cordless phone and walking down the hallway. “Torrin, it’s Chaser Adams. I need a favor…” His voice trails off as he closes a door behind him.

  Audrey pulls the blanket around her again and shoots a glare at me. “I don’t appreciate being bullied by your boyfriend.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “There’s nothing he can do,” she insists.

  I’m busy watching Andrew pace the hallway, waiting for Chaser to emerge. When he does, they share a few quick words.

  “Let’s go!” Andrew slams his fist against his palm. “I got a bat and a tire iron in the truck.”

  Chaser nods.

  “Wait. Where are you going?” I hurry over to Chaser.

  He hands me the phone and lifts his chin at Audrey. “What room?”

  “Chaser, this is nuts. What are you going to do?”

  “What needs to be done,” he answers as if it should be obvious.

  She squeezes her eyes shut and slowly pulls herself off the couch. “You can’t.”

  “Where else are you hurt?” he asks.

  “What?”

  Chaser points to his eye and his mouth. “Where did he hurt you that I can’t see?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she whispers.

  Chaser’s a dog with a bone now that he’s gotten some answers from Audrey, but there’s still sympathy in his voice when he runs his hand over his side and asks, “Ribs?”

  She drops her gaze to the floor. “Two cracked.”

  He opens his mouth then stops himself. “Okay.”

  “Chaser,” I plead. While I appreciate his need to avenge my friend, I’m scared. “I can’t have you getting hurt or arrested.”

  “I got lawyers on retainer and plenty of bail money,” Andrew answers.

  My hands ball into fists at my side. “That’s not helpful, Andrew,” I spit out.

  “Sure, it is,” Chaser says. “Room number, Audrey?”

  “He’s not in the main part of the hotel. One of the bungalows out back. For ‘privacy,’ you know?” She scoffs.

  “Excellent.” Andrew rubs his hands together and grins like a maniac. “I know that place like the back of my hand.”

  Audrey lifts her gaze and glares at Andrew. “You don’t even know me.”

  He points to her face. “I know enough to know no man should ever do that to a woman.”

  “Andrew!” I snap.

  He shrugs. “What?”

  “Will he still be there?” Chaser asks. “Or will he have left after the commotion?”

  “There was no ‘commotion,’” Audrey says. “The hotel discreetly called an ambulance for me. I spoke to the cops at the hospital. From their attitude, I doubt they bothered going out there to talk to him.”

  “Which bungalow?” Chaser asks.

  “Twenty-two.”

  I stare at Audrey, and she shrugs. “He’s going to badger me until I tell him, and I want to go to bed.”

  Chaser nods, almost apologetically. “Does he have anyone with him? Security? Anything like that?”

  “Not when he goes there,” Audrey answers. “We met in the bar to ‘talk,’ and he lured me back to the bungalow to give me a ‘present.’ I never saw anyone else with him.”

  “Does he know where you live?”

  Audrey’s eyes widen, and she slowly shakes her head. “No…the agency is very careful about not giving out information like that. I don’t even use my real name.”

  “That’s a detail I needed,” Chaser growls. “What name?”

  “Belle.”

  “Anything else?” Chaser asks.

  She shakes her head.

  “Let’s go.” Andrew waves his hand at the door.

  Chaser settles his hands on my shoulders and pulls me closer. “Stay here with Audrey.”

  “Chaser, you don’t have to do this.”

  “Someone has to.” He presses his palms to my cheeks. “I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with scum like this before.”

  “What if you get arrested? Or he recognizes you guys.” I throw my hand in Andrew’s direction. “You two don’t exactly blend into the general population.”

  Andrew grins at me. “I can be quite stealthy when I need to be.”

  “You wouldn’t know stealthy if it bit you on your right ass cheek,” I shoot back. I’m ready to strangle him for feeding into Chaser’s madness.

  “You’re so cute when you’re mad.” Andrew bops me on the nose, and I lunge at him.

  Chaser hooks an arm around my waist, holding me in place. “We’ll be fine.” He kisses my cheek. “Stay here and take care of Audrey. We won’t be gone long.”

  Audrey watches the guys go and shakes her head. “Who’s your crazy friend?”

  “Andrew. He’s a drummer.”

  Her eyes widen as recognition settles in. “Andrew Lane. From Vicious Vandals? Why does he care so much?”

  I honestly can’t explain why Andrew seemed so invested, so I shrug. “He and Chaser have a love/hate friendship thing.”

  “Must be a lot of love to have his back like that.”

  She tosses the blanket on the couch and shuffles closer to me. “Will you help me? I need a shower in the worst way.”

  “Of course.”

  A few minutes later, the coward in me wishes I’d said no. The welts and bruises from her shoulder blades to the back of her knees are enough to make me bite my lip to keep from crying.

  “There’s Epsom salt under the sink. Can you grab it?” she asks.

  “Sure.”

  When the water’s warm enough, I hold her steady, while she climbs the three steps leading up to the large circular tub.

  “I’m so sorry, Mallory,” Audrey whispers.

  “Why?”

  “I didn’t know who else to call.”

  “It’s okay.”

  It seems to take hours to get her bundled up and settled into bed.

  And Chaser still hasn’t returned.

  Exhausted and scared, I grab a poker from the fireplace and prop it up against the nightstand before crawling into bed with Audrey.

  “Do you need anything?” I ask.

  “To forget this whole night.” She turns, so she’s facing me. “Tell me about your big T.V. show. Are you loving it?”

  “You don’t want to talk abou
t that now.”

  “Yes, I do. Please?”

  I blow out a breath. “Love’s probably not the right word. It’s intimidating.” I regale her with some other stories but leave out the part about how the wardrobe girls hate my guts. It seems like a ridiculous thing to whine about after what happened to Audrey tonight. Besides, I haven’t even confided in Chaser about it yet.

  “Thank you,” she finally whispers, her eyelids drooping. “For helping me forget.”

  I roll over and turn off the beside lamp.

  “Thank you for staying.”

  I laugh softly in the darkness. “They didn’t leave me much choice.”

  “I mean staying in here. Thanks for not leaving me alone.”

  I reach out and brush my fingers over her hand. “I’m right here, Audrey.”

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chaser

  “You don’t have to do this, Andrew.”

  Torrin, the president of the Devil Demons MC’s SoCal charter, did a quick check for me and determined that the multi-Oscar winning actor Audrey named was, to his knowledge, not connected to anyone who would be seeking payback or protected by anyone. He also offered to send help. An offer I accepted because I’m not sure how far into this I want to drag Andrew.

  “I’m in, bro.”

  “You can drop me off at my place. I’m meeting a few people to go with me.”

  The Palm was actually halfway between Audrey’s place and the closest Devil Demons MC charter. It had taken so long to pry the info out of Audrey, I’m worried the brothers sent to assist are waiting on me.

  “Chaser, dude. You can’t go buzzing on into the Palm on your Harley. Not gonna happen. They’ll call the cops before you make it anywhere near the bungalows. And you ain’t parking outside and hiking in. You need me. I know the security guys at the gate, and my truck’s big enough to haul us in and out.”

  He’s got a point.

  “You can wait in the truck.”

  “Fuck that. I’m gonna crack that motherfucker’s ribs then jam that tire iron up his ass.”

  “You’re awfully bloodthirsty.”

  “Bro, I watched my mom get knocked around by fucking assholes my whole life. As soon as I was big enough, I put an end to that shit.” He glances over and smirks. “My therapist is always trying to tell me you can’t solve violence with violence. And in some cases, I actually agree with her.”

 

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