Blow My Fuse (Hollywood Demons Book 2)

by Autumn Jones Lake

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chaser

  There’s one important shopping trip I need to take before leaving for tour.

  Unfortunately, the most annoying person in the world joins me.

  “Dude, you’re buying her a Honda?” Andrew runs his calloused fingers over the shiny green paint. “Mallory’s classy. Strikes me as a BMW or Porsche kinda girl.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t have BMW or Porsche money yet.” I glance at the car I picked out for Mallory. It’s brand new, so several steps up from the car my father got her for back home, which she claimed to love. It’s small, so she can zip in and out of the ridiculous traffic around here. I spent time researching exactly what to get her that would be both reliable and in our budget. Andrew’s begging for a beating if he keeps running his mouth.

  “You want me to loan you the cash?” he asks.

  That’s a big hell-fucking-no. “I don’t need your money to buy my girl a car.”

  “I bought Pammy’s Porsche.” He squeezes his eyes shut and a filthy smile curls his lips.

  “Don’t,” I warn.

  “What?”

  “Whatever disgusting car sex story you’re about to share. Just keep it to yourself.”

  He grins. “Busted.” He takes another look at the car. “It’s nice. Cool color. She’ll look good in it.”

  “Thanks for your blessing,” I grumble.

  After ironing out the details with the dealer and signing some papers, I’m ready to go.

  “You psyched for the tour?” Andrew slips on his sunglasses outside and searches the parking lot.

  More like a mixture of excited about the tour and bummed I’m leaving Mallory. Not sure what sort of spell I’m under, but I actually like the routine we’ve settled into since moving into the house. No point in explaining that to Andrew, though.

  “Can’t wait.”

  “Mallory going to visit you on the road?”

  “As often as she can.” Already bought her first ticket to join me in Texas for a weekend. A few weeks later, she’ll meet me in New York and stay on tour with us until our last show. At least that’s what we’re planning.

  “Cool.” He jumps into the driver’s side of his truck and unlocks my door. “Pammy will join us in New York. Lots of fun to be had before then.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Seriously?” He hangs his head and turns the key in the ignition. “Chaser, I don’t think you understand the quality of women who turn up at our shows.”

  I blow out a long breath, while counting back from ten. “And I don’t think you understand, this isn’t a conversation I want to have.”

  “We still meeting the guys at Pogo’s?”

  “Yup.”

  Thom and a short, skinny guy I don’t recognize, are waiting for us in a back, corner booth of Pogo’s. As soon as his gaze lands on Andrew, Thom jumps out of his seat to introduce himself.

  “I’m just here as Chaser’s ride, man, but nice to meet you,” Andrew says.

  “Sure, sure.” Thom seems to remember who his actual client is and reaches out to shake my hand. He motions for the skinny guy to get up and join us. “This is Pete, he’s going to be your tour manager.”

  “What now?”

  Behind Thom’s back, Jacob curls his fists together in front of his face and shakes hard—like he’s choking a chicken. A snort of laughter escapes me, and I avert my eyes.

  “He’ll handle the logistics and call me if there are any issues,” Thom explains.

  Super. Another person I didn’t hire drawing a salary off the band. “We’ve never needed a tour manager before. Val went to the U.K. with us.”

  “Yeah, and look how that turned out,” Thom reminds me.

  “Big fan, Chaser,” Pete interrupts. “Really excited to work with you guys.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Here’s my number. You need anything before we leave, just let me know.” He passes me a card, and I give it a quick glance, before shoving it in my pocket.

  “The guys can fill you in, but we have a date for the EP’s release, and Cutter’s agreed to work with you,” Thom says.

  “Fuck yeah,” Andrew says under his breath.

  “You should’ve started there, Thom.” I shift and run my hand through my hair. “When?”

  “As soon as the tour finishes. Pete will set up time for you to work on some of the new material while you’re on the road.”

  When none of us object, Thom claps his hands together. “All right. We’re leaving. Oh, and limo’s all set up for the SMA’s.”

  “You’re the man, Thom.” Jacob stands and points two finger guns at Thom.

  Andrew throws himself into the booth next to Jacob and signals the waitress to bring us menus.

  I’d hesitate to discuss band business in front of Andrew, except he inserts himself into my business all the time. Maybe in this case, he can actually be useful.

  “Did you know about this, Jacob?”

  “About Pete? Fuck no. Thom sprung him on us today.”

  “Not the worst thing,” Garrett says. “Be nice to have someone to be our gopher.”

  “Do you have a tour manager?” Alvin asks Andrew.

  “Yeah, we’ve been through a few of ‘em. Kyle has his own guy.” Andrew snort-laughs. “Fuck, half the time, we do all our talking through our managers. It’s out of control ridiculous.”

  “We don’t need anyone to do our talking for us.” Jacob’s lips curve into a sly grin. “None of us are afraid to call each other out on our bullshit.”

  “Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth,” I mutter.

  “Don’t let go of that,” Andrew says. “Work shit out with each other. Don’t let it fester until you can’t all stand to be in the same room together.”

  Well, that’s a conversation downer.

  The waitress stops by to take our order, and Andrew orders corned beef sandwiches for all of us.

  “So, what happened in the UK?” Andrew asks.

  I shoot a glare at Jacob that I hope he interprets as shut your fool mouth.

  “Eh.” Alvin waves his hand in the air. “We toured with Bloody Revolver, and they—”

  “Aww, fuck that douche!” Andrew shouts.

  Heads turn, and Andrew lifts two middle fingers in the air.

  “Fucking Davey Revolver.” Andrew’s normal happy-go-lucky-puppy demeanor morphs into the vicious monster I witnessed the night we handled the guy who hurt Audrey. “I’d love to kick his motherfucking ass.”

  “Chaser did.” Alvin cackles.

  I tilt my head and stare him down. Really?

  He gives me an apologetic shrug.

  “He hit on Mallory?” Andrew asks. “Am I right?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Yeah, I wish I’d known you guys, then. I coulda warned you. He’s a total piece of shit.”

  Finally, we agree on something.

  Mallory

  After dress shopping, Pamela drops me off at the house.

  I’m in the kitchen figuring out what to make for dinner when Chaser slams the door and announces, “Honey, I’m home,” as he’s done every day since we moved in.

  Today he adds, “And I have good news.”

  “What’s that?” I rush over to hug him, well aware that our time together is precious. Soon, I’ll be saying goodbye for three months.

  “Cutter agreed to produce our album.”

  “Oh my God!” I squeeze my eyes shut, saying a quick ‘thank you’ to the universe for making this happen for Chaser. “That’s amazing.”

  “And we have a release date for the EP.”

  “Even better!” I can’t help bouncing up and down and clapping my hands.

  “Yup. Second week of the tour, so we can promote it and let the fans get to know the new material.”

  “Perfect timing.” I hesitate, not wanting to steal any of his excitement. “I have good news too. I found a dress for the SMAs.”

  “Awesome.” He pauses. “Where
is it?”

  “It’s still at the shop.” I give him a quick description.

  “I can’t wait to see it.”

  His brows pinch together, and he glances at the clock. “Thom hired a tour manager for us.”

  “You don’t sound happy about it.”

  “Got a weasel vibe from him.” He shrugs. “Nothing specific.”

  “Try to give him a chance.” I poke him in the stomach. “But trust your instincts too.”

  “Have I mentioned you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me?”

  “Once or twice, but I don’t mind hearing it again.”

  We’re interrupted by a rattling in our driveway followed by a knock at the door.

  Chaser jumps up with a grin on his face. “They’re early.”

  “Who?” I ask, following him.

  He checks the peephole before opening the door.

  “Mr. Adams?”

  “Yup.”

  “Need you to sign this.” The burly stranger on our front step thrusts a clipboard at Chaser.

  “Let me take a look at it first.”

  He shrugs and steps back.

  “Come here, I have a surprise for you,” Chaser says, taking my hand.

  “For me?”

  “Close your eyes.”

  He takes my hand, leading me outside, but when I stumble on the sidewalk, he swoops me up into his arms. “Chaser! What are you doing?”

  “Shh, eyes closed, little dove.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and hang on. A few seconds later, he gently sets me down.

  “Okay, open.”

  Shiny, pearlescent blue-green paint. My gaze scans the length of the little Honda CRX hatchback sitting in our driveway. “Chaser?”

  He turns to the man with the clipboard and scribbles his signature at the bottom. The man hands him keys and a copy of the paperwork. “Enjoy.”

  “Chaser, what is this?”

  He turns to me. “You need a car while I’m gone. You can’t depend on Pamela all the time.”

  “But?” Words, where are my words? “I can’t.”

  “What did you tell me? We’re in this together for the long haul.” He nods to the little Honda. “This is an investment in our future, so you can get to the set on time.”

  “Chaser!” I press my palms against his cheeks and lean up to kiss him. “Thank you. I love it so much. How’d you know?”

  “I’d love to buy you a fancy BMW or—”

  “Absolutely not. I love this. This is exactly what I would’ve picked out.”

  He glances down. “I know your dad probably gave you much nicer…”

  “What are you talking about? My father taught me how to drive in his precious Mercedes, long enough to get my license, then never let me touch another vehicle again.” My mouth quirks. “Well, until he got arrested, then I drove that little beauty all over.”

  “Fuck, I love you.” He picks me up, squeezing me tight.

  “I’m going to miss you so much,” I whisper against his neck.

  “I know, baby. Me too.”

  I sniffle and use a handful of Chaser’s T-shirt to dry my cheeks before he sets me down.

  “Keys.” Chaser sets the keys in my palm.

  I stare at the car. “Can we afford this?”

  “Yes. I put a chunk of my advance down and the payments are low.” He glances at the house. “Our living expenses took a dramatic decrease. I got a phone call from Mitchell Howard the other day. He invited me to come down to his studio and play on two songs for his next album.”

  I blink at him as I absorb the enormity of what he just said. “Mitchell Howard? He’s all contemporary pop music. Why does he want a heavy metal guitarist?”

  “He’s done some stuff with heavier riffs in the past. I think he wants to continue in that direction.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “He heard about the Guitar God nomination.”

  “That’s…” I can’t even form the right words. “Incredible.”

  “I haven’t said anything to the guys yet. Alvin and Garrett won’t care. As much as I’d enjoy bruising Jacob’s ego, I can’t afford to do it right before we leave for a tour.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Try and lay down the tracks before we leave. Thom’s supposed to get something in writing.”

  I reach up and hug him. “I’m so proud of you.”

  He snorts. “Mitchell’s offering more than our last advance for two songs. So, yes, we can afford the car.”

  “Holy crap.”

  “Yup.”

  Things are finally looking up for us.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Mallory

  As Pamela so cheerfully keeps reminding me in the days leading up to the awards show, it’s not the Oscars.

  I’m still having trouble containing my excitement as our limo pulls up to the red carpet. Gold ropes keep fans at bay, and photographers jostle one another for the best position.

  An entire roll of boob tape seems to be keeping my dress in place so far. I’m still nervous about accidentally flashing someone when I climb out of the limo.

  Chaser squeezes my hand and drops his gaze to where my fingers are pressed against my chest. “I got you, babe,” he whispers.

  “Go on,” he says to Jacob and the others. “Singer should go first.”

  Naturally, Jacob doesn’t disagree. He scoots out and raises his hands over his head, waving to the crowd. Garrett follows.

  Alvin stops in front of us and pats my leg. “All my money’s on you, Mallory.”

  A huff of laughter escapes me, chasing my anxiety away. “Thanks.”

  After he steps out, Chaser and I are alone.

  I run my hand over his black pinstriped trousers. “You look sexy.” He’d paired the pants with a plain black T-shirt and a pair of black Converse sneakers, assuring me that was as dressy as he was getting.

  He leans in and kisses my forehead. “No matter what, you’ll always be my favorite Video Vixen.”

  I’m too emotional to respond, and someone knocks on the window, signaling that we need to hurry anyway.

  Chaser steps out and turns his back to the crowd, blocking their view while I do a quick check to be sure my boobs don’t try to escape.

  “Ready?” he asks.

  “Ready.” I tuck my gold clutch under my arm.

  He takes my hand and together we face the red carpet.

  “Chaser, over here!”

  “Chaser, can we grab a photo?”

  “Mallory, will you win Video Vixen?”

  I wave at the reporter. “We’ll see!”

  Chaser stops in front of a different reporter and answers a few questions. Someone else comes up on my side.

  “How badly do you want to win Video Vixen, Mallory?” he asks.

  “Oh, I’m just thrilled to be nominated.” I smile brightly, even though I’m already tired of the question.

  Chaser answers questions and stops for pictures while continuing to move us forward.

  Inside, we’re herded into a room with a bar and tables overflowing with snacks and desserts.

  “You want something?” Chaser asks.

  “I’m too nervous.” I smooth my hand over my dress.

  “Let me get you some water.”

  I tighten my grip on his arm and lean up on my tiptoes. “No water. I don’t think I can unlace this dress on my own, so I don’t want to have to pee later.”

  He closes his eyes and snort-laughs at my predicament.

  “It’s not funny.”

  “If you’re this nervous here, how are you going to survive when you get nominated for an Oscar?” he asks.

  “I’ll already have practice from going to these things with you.”

  “Hey, lovebirds,” Jacob calls out. “Think you can cool it for a minute?”

  “Aw, they’re so cute,” Vickie coos. I’m not sure if she’s Jacob’s or Garrett’s date tonight, but she joined us at the last minute.

  “Chaser!” A
ndrew bellows behind us.

  “Christ,” Chaser mutters under his breath.

  Andrew embraces both of us before I have a chance to take in his outfit.

  “Are you wearing…zebra stripes?” I ask when I pull away.

  “Yeah, isn’t it rad?” He holds his arms out and turns in a semi-circle to show off the black and white vest with nothing else under it and skin-tight leather pants. “Pammy picked it out.”

  “It’s…something,” I say.

  “Come on. I made sure we’re all sitting together.” He waves for us to follow.

  Chaser briefly closes his eyes. “Three months of this,” he says low enough that only I can hear him. “Three months.”

  “Maybe he’ll let you borrow his spiffy vest,” I whisper.

  He pinches my butt and kisses my cheek. “Careful,” I warn. “I’m wearing about a pound of makeup.”

  “You’re beautiful.” He signals to the guys that we’re going to find our seats, and we head down the aisle.

  The show starts with Best Breakout Video.

  “Shit,” Jacob mutters.

  The guys are all tense while each nominee is announced and a brief clip of the video plays. Chaser’s holding my hand so tight, I have to give it a shake, so he loosens up.

  “And the winner is…Wishing Well for ‘Fear Nothing!’” the announcer shouts.

  Chaser sits back. Disappointed or relieved, I can’t tell.

  Alvin mutters, “Fuck,” under his breath.

  “What a dick,” Andrew says loud enough to be heard by half the theater.

  I glance over at him, and he flashes his middle finger to Brent from Wishing Well. Pamela covers her mouth and giggles.

  Chaser stares straight ahead at the stage, ignoring the spectacle next to us. I lean against him. “I guess Andrew’s manager didn’t give him the gracious and humble speech.”

  Chaser cracks a smile. “Guess not.”

  I don’t have time to catch my breath from the excitement of Kickstart’s first nomination.

  “And now the nominees for Best Video Vixen!”

  Blood roars through my ears. Of course, they choose the scene from ‘Candy Jar’ where I’m getting hosed down. I cringe and close my eyes.

  “Fuck yeah!” Andrew whoops.

  “Mallory Dove for ‘Candy Jar’ by Kickstart!” the announcer screams into the microphone.