Except for my once-a-day updates from the dickhead-of-the-year-investigator, Johnson. In his last update, I’d been surprised to hear that Billie was in Naples, seen exiting the Big Noise head office. Angelo was with her, of course. A captor never allowed his prisoner to roam freely without him.
Speculation of why she was there, and in our label’s office, dominated my mind, even as I mindlessly drummed along to the beat Jace was experimenting with for his current song. This house had a basement studio and music room with the most incredible equipment and acoustics. We’d been down here most of the time, only moving to the main level when we needed to eat or sleep.
“It’s missing something,” Rhett said shortly. “We sound like fucking amateurs.” He was more with it on our third day here, but his temper was out of control. If Brenda didn’t hook him up with something soon, I was going to be burying a bandmate out in the backyard. Asshole was getting on my last nerve.
He wasn’t wrong though. For all of his issues, Rhett had an ear for music that rivaled Jace’s. Sometimes it was far greater.
“I think the issue is—” Florence barely got those words out before Rhett growled and stomped off, guitar still over his shoulder. If she added harmony, he didn’t flip out, but the moment she offered an opinion, he lost his shit.
Florence sunk into herself, closing her eyes briefly before she took a deep breath. “He’s never going to forgive me,” she rasped, opening her eyes once more to look between us. “How can we make an album when he can barely be in the same room as me?”
“Rhett’s mother went back to her abuser,” Jace reminded Florence. “He’s been concerned about you for a while. Tom was clearly predatory, but you ignored our advice and asked us to stop interfering, so we left you to it. Now he finds out that you were working with Tom to betray us and get rid of Billie. You’ve hit on one of the few things he’ll struggle to forgive.”
“Billie did it too,” Florence shot back. “She went to Angelo.”
Shaking my head, I stood up from the drums, deciding we were done for today. “She was taken by Angelo. If Billie was running, it was for another reason, probably something altruistic, if I know her at all. Angelo just took advantage of the situation.”
I was as sure of this as I was of my own fucked up past.
“No one fucking knows her, bro,” Jace shot back. “Billie is an actress who plays her part well, and when she’s done with the role, she runs. It happened in the past, and it’s still happening now. Stop making excuses for her. Your damage might be different than Rhett’s, but it’s there and it’s clouding your judgment.”
Barely resisting the urge to cross the room and smash his face into a wall, I instead allowed myself two deep breaths before speaking. “If anyone carries damage, bro, it’s fucking you. I’m not ready to give up on Billie. Not yet. My loyalty runs deeper than that, and until she’s standing before me telling me exactly what happened that day, she has my trust.”
The. Fucking. End.
Leaving the studio, I took the stairs three at a time, getting to the top as fast as possible. I’d been stuck in this house for too long; I needed some fresh air. Passing Rhett, who was sprawled on the couch, remote in hand, I walked along the entryway until I reached the front door. Hitting the button to release the locks, I stepped out onto the large wraparound porch.
This was a typical ranch house, with two stories and a basement. It was older but well-maintained with quality fittings. At first, we’d thought we were alone out here, but then I’d discovered the barn during one of my nightly walks. Behind it, large, fenced paddocks held quite a few horses. The owners had popped by twice to check on their animals, but only early in the morning, which meant I was free to approach the yards now without pissing someone off over messing with their prized animals.
I’d spent enough time around horses in my youth to know that the multitude of tan, brown, and white quarter horses out there were of the highest quality. They had the strong, muscled hind legs and smooth gait required for competition and breeding. I approached the three-rail fencing, propped one foot up on the bottom post, and stared out across the paddock.
It was beautiful country, and while it didn’t remind me of where I’d grown up, there was a similar, relaxed vibe. This was not a land where you rushed. This was a land where you took a moment, smelled the horse shit, and breathed the fresh air. Crusher, the old rock drummer who’d taught me all I knew, had kept horses and often made me help him out as a kid. Payment for free music lessons.
Noticing some partially opened bales of hay just inside the shed door, I moved over to grab up some of the feed, and by the time I turned around, two of the horses were already waiting at the gate.
They were used to being hand fed, and even if they didn’t need the supplement feeding in this lush paddock, the owners clearly liked to add a bit of extra to their diet. Or maybe it was part of ensuring they remained calm around people. Animals had a way of going wild when they were left on their own too long, hence why the owners snuck up here every day, despite lending Brenda their house. From what I’d seen, it was an older couple, and I wondered what their relationship was to our band manager.
Fuck, for all I knew, they were Brenda’s parents. She never exactly brought us into her personal life, preferring to keep band stuff separate. This house was definitely not on Big Noise’s payroll, though, so it had to be known to her from somewhere.
Maybe we’d find out before our time here was done.
The closest horse, a huge bay that was at least sixteen or seventeen hands high–on the larger side for their breed–lifted his head over the railing. He nudged at my hands, seeking the quality alfalfa I held. “You’ve been feeding in a good pasture,” I said with a low laugh, feeling more relaxed than I had in weeks. “Are you sure you need any extra?”
He whinnied quietly, before he all but ate my hand to get to the feed. Opening my palm so it was flat, I managed to save my fingers, meanwhile using my free hand to brush across his soft hair. “Your coat is beautiful,” I murmured, pressing my head closer to his, breathing in that earthy scent. There was something calming about horses, and I related in a way I wished I couldn’t. Their nature was wild until they were captured and broken in. I’d been tamed early in life, broken in, so to speak, but the true nature inside never changed. I sensed that in other creatures, but especially in horses.
I’d have loved to ride them, but that would be going too far with someone else’s prized creatures. Maybe I’d ask Brenda if she did know the owners and if there was any chance of a few riding sessions. The thought of taking off across the open plains was appealing right now.
Footsteps reached me a moment before Rhett slid in beside me, lifting one foot to rest on the lower post. Were you even in the country if you didn’t rest your foot on the railing?
Fuck, no, you weren’t.
We remained in an amicable silence for at least twenty minutes, giving the horses some love and attention, until eventually they wandered off. In that time, my internal equilibrium returned, and I got the feeling it was the same for Rhett.
“What are we going to do?” he finally said, voice raspy. He’d had a near permanent gravel to his tone since Billie left. “At this rate, this album is never going to get made. Fuck, we’ll be lucky if we don’t kill each other and burn the house down.”