“I’m pretty sure,” I bite my lip, afraid to even say the words, “if you die, I won’t be far behind.”
Chapter Fifteen
Mallory
As the Shooting Fences shows draw closer, Chaser’s been asking me to join them at rehearsal more often.
“Are you sure I’m allowed to visit the rehearsal space again?” I ask for probably the tenth time this morning.
So far, the guys haven’t seemed to mind, but I figure they’ll only tolerate my presence for so long.
“Fuck yeah. I’m more inspired when you’re there.”
Just when I think the man can’t make me swoon any harder.
“Are you sure you won’t be too bored?” he asks.
“Nope.” Today, I have a script in my bag to keep me busy.
Although, once the guys get into their session, it’s almost impossible to tear myself away from watching them and concentrate on anything else.
“You’re bringing it?” I nod to the Gibson case, excited Chaser’s finally going to use the guitar I gave him. He’s only played it at home. Almost as if it’s a newborn he’s worried to introduce to the big, bad world.
“Yeah, I thought it might help.” He kisses my cheek. “Come on, Alvin’s waiting downstairs.”
I end up in the back seat wedged between the drums and guitar case, praying no one clips the little car on the way there.
Garrett’s car is parked by the entrance of the squatty square building, and we find him alone inside the room reserved for Kickstart’s practice sessions.
“Jacob isn’t here? What the fuck?” Chaser growls, setting his guitar case down. “We don’t have a lot of time to waste.”
Garrett lifts his head and rubs his hand over his throat. “He’s trying to rest his vocal cords. I’m not sure he’ll be here at all today. He’s shitting bricks that he’s gonna blow ‘em out before the shows.”
“Fuck.”
Is that possible? Although I’ve witnessed some of the lengthy vocal warm-ups he performs before a show, I’ve never given Jacob’s contribution a lot of thought. It makes sense, though. His voice is an instrument that needs to be cared for like everyone else’s. Maybe more so since he can’t swap out or buy new vocal cords.
“I’m here, fuckers.” Jacob slumps into the room. Jacket collar up and sunglasses obscuring most of his face.
“You all right?” Chaser asks, lifting his chin at the cup in Jacob’s hand.
Jacob curls the cup closer to his chest. “It’s tea.”
“I didn’t ask.”
After some back and forth, Jacob climbs on top of the desk next to me. He sits cross-legged and sets a notepad on his lap.
Chaser and Alvin launch into the now familiar riff of “Queen of the Road,” playing it a few times before Garrett joins them.
Jacob watches, swaying side to side for a few minutes, before closing his eyes and opening his mouth.
“There she is.”
“Queen of the Road.”
“Two wheels of fire.”
“Leading me home.”
Jacob stops and takes a quick sip of tea.
“Tell me to stay!” Alvin shouts.
“If you think I belong!” Garrett adds.
“Good,” Jacob mutters, quickly scribbling down the lines in his notebook.
Over his shoulder, I notice him marking an A next to the line Alvin contributed and a G next to Garrett’s. For some reason, I find that funny.
“Ahead there’s a storm,” Chaser sings.
The guys keep playing, but no one belts out another line.
A few words pop into my head, and I blurt them out before thinking it through. “I need your fire to keep me warm.”
“Nice!” Alvin yells.
Jacob slants a look my way.
Guess I was supposed to keep quiet. But then he scribbles down the two lines, marking Chaser’s with a “C” and mine with an “M.”
“I like that,” he mutters.
Chaser winks and blows me a kiss. He closes his eyes and begins a beautiful solo using the slide again.
The guys work steadily, without stopping for a couple of hours. Everything magically seems to come together. Every note and word perfect, until Jacob’s last, final haunting line.
“Queen of the road, take me home.”
Excitement propels me out of my spot. Jumping and clapping. “That was beautiful! Perfect!”
“Not perfect.” Jacob scribbles down a few notes without looking at us. “But it’s getting there.”
Chaser sweeps me into his arms, spinning us in a half circle. “Knew you’d bring us luck,” he whispers.
“I’m sorry I interrupted,” I whisper back. “I got caught up in the—”
He silences me with a quick kiss. “Don’t apologize. I love that you jumped in. It’s a good line too. It worked.” He sets me down. “I always wanted to write something with you one day.”
“With me? Why?”
“You’re clever and put words together in an interesting way.”
That can’t be true. I sure can’t put any words together at the moment.
“Whoa, when’d you buy the Starburst? How?” Jacob asks almost knocking me out of the way to ogle Chaser’s guitar.
“Mallory gave it to me,” Chaser says. “You just noticed it now?”
Jacob jerks his chin my way. “Who’d you blow to get the money for that?”
I don’t have a chance to respond. Chaser slaps his palm against Jacob’s chest hard, shoving him back a few feet. “Watch your fucking mouth.”
“I’m just saying, if Mallory’s got that kind of money—”
“It’s none of your business.” Chaser thumps Jacob’s chest once more to emphasize his warning.
“Jesus, calm down.”
“That was sweet, Mallory,” Garrett says, inspecting the instrument. “He’s had his eye on it forever.”
I shrug, uncomfortable having them questioning the personal gift. Somehow in my excitement to buy it for Chaser, I never considered it would pique the guys’ curiosity.
“We still have a lot more work to get through,” Alvin reminds everyone. “We need to interview some of those producers Val lined up for us in case Cutter doesn’t pan out.”
“I don’t want to work with anyone but Mark Cutter.” Jacob thrusts his chin in the air and crosses his arms over his chest. Clearly as far as he’s concerned, this isn’t open for discussion.
“Well, I suggest you get your shit together, and act like a professional, so he wants to work with us,” Chaser says.
“Maybe Andrew can put in a word?” Alvin suggests. “Vandals haven’t worked with anyone else since Serves You Right. He must be tight with Cutter.”
I touch Chaser’s shoulder. “I might run into Pamela tomorrow. Do you want me to suggest we all get together or something?”
“You want to suggest something to Pamela Scott, suggest she call me.” Jacob puts his hand up to his ear. “Massive cock or not, with the amount of coke Andrew does, I doubt he can raise that log for long.”