“I still don’t trust him.” I shift my gaze to Val. “Or you. But for now, we’re fine.”
She coughs and looks away. “All right then.” Her voice takes on a stronger edge, and she passes her gaze over each one of us. “Let’s blow the roof off these last few shows. Rock those fans so hard they won’t even remember who Bloody Revolver is.”
Garrett stands and lifts his arms over his head. “Fuckin’ A! Let’s do this, motherfuckers.”
After the heated talk, I finally laugh and slap Garrett on the back. Val gives me a stiff one-armed hug, and Alvin thumps my back a few times.
I’m not quite ready to hug it out with Jacob yet, but I slap his hand when he holds it up.
While I’ve made peace with my band—sort of—I doubt the situation with Davey Revolver will be resolved as smoothly. I’m not sure how much lower the guy can sink, but I’ll definitely have to watch my back for the rest of the tour.
Chapter Four
Mallory
I drag myself off the plane with a heavy heart. I’m so out of it, I get lost on my way to baggage claim but finally find my way there.
“Mallory!”
My groggy eyes scan the area, finally landing on Audrey waving frantically.
“What are you doing here?” I rush over and accept her embrace.
“Chaser called and asked if I’d come get you.”
“He did?” I assumed I’d find a taxi, but I appreciate his thoughtfulness. I can’t imagine how big his phone bill will be when he finally checks out.
“Are you okay?” She rests her hand on my shoulder and peers into my bleary eyes.
“I’m exhausted.”
“Let’s grab your stuff and get out of here.” She loops her arm through mine and leads me to the carousel.
Thankfully, my luggage doesn’t take long to spit out of the chute.
“You’re coming home with me,” Audrey announces on our way to the parking lot.
Before I can protest, she holds up one hand. “I’m not at the apartment anymore. I’m renting a place on Walnut street. It’s got a guest room and everything. You’ll be safe there.”
“Sounds perfect.” I wasn’t looking forward to explaining to Vickie, Holly, and Dorothy what happened in England.
“You’ll tell me all about it tomorrow.”
Unable to formulate any more words today, I simply nod.
The next morning, sunlight streaming through the sheer white curtains wakes me. I stretch and blink. It takes a second to remember where I am and the incidents that landed me here.
I wander into the living room, admiring Audrey’s place. It’s a lovely home with dark wood floors. The walls are painted in an eclectic variety of colors. Bright rugs, embroidered wall tapestries, and more gauzy curtains give it a bohemian vibe that suits Audrey much more than her previous white and beige apartment.
“Morning,” she greets me when I find my way into the kitchen. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Thanks.” I glance around the teal kitchen splashed with red accents. “I love the house.”
“It’s cute, right? Most of the time, it’s nice and quiet too.” She gestures toward the front door. “There’s some asshole rocker a few streets over who throws loud parties, but other than that, it’s good.”
I chuckle because I’m familiar with asshole rockers and their loud parties.
For some reason, Audrey can’t stop grinning.
“What’s up with you?”
“Nothing.” She sways from side to side for a second. “I’m actually renting it from one of my…from a guy I’m seeing.”
“Oh?” That seems like more personal involvement than Audrey prefers. “How is that working out?” I ask casually.
“Not bad. It’s no big deal. He’s in real estate, so he has several properties.” She snaps her mouth closed.
“What aren’t you saying?”
She glances down and taps her perfectly red manicured nails against the counter. “He’s kind of asked to see me exclusively.” She takes a deep breath. “I mean, asked me to see him exclusively.”
“And how do you feel about that?” I ask carefully, afraid I’ll offend her.
“He’s very kind.” Her mouth twists. “But it’s scary. That’s really not what I ever pictured happening. I figured I’d escort until I turned thirty-five, bank some money, then run off to Paris, bum around Europe, and finally settle down in Italy. Just me and fifty or so cats.”
I chuckle softly. “But?”
“I like him. A lot. He says he’ll move money into an account for me, so I feel secure about my future.” She pauses and quietly adds, “He says he’s ready to run away to Paris with me right now.”
I sit back and blink. “Whoa. That’s…quite an offer.”
“Yeah.” She looks up at me from under her lashes. “Do you think I’m crazy for considering it?”
“Not at all.” I can’t help adding, “Just be careful.”
She heaves out a deep breath. “Thank you.” She slaps the counter, signaling the end of that conversation and diving into another. “Enough about me. Tell me what happened. Chaser couldn’t talk long, and he said it was up to you if you wanted to share the details.”
My lips twitch. Chaser never stops being thoughtful or worrying about my needs. Regret for leaving him settles over me again. “You know how they were opening for Bloody Revolver over there, right?”
There’s a subtle shift in her expression. Her gaze darts away for a second before she nods. “I remember.”
I recount the whole story for her. The amazing shows, the fun Chaser and I had exploring England, Jacob’s increasing annoyance with me—how did I not see that for what it was at the time? Finally, I end with Davey’s proposition, Chaser’s rescue, and our decision that it was safer for me to come home than finish the tour with them.
“Wow,” she breathes out, absorbing my story. “That’s…intense, Mallory.”
“Good word for it.” I force a laugh I’m not really feeling at the moment.
“You’re lucky. Chaser cares for you so much. A lot of guys would have encouraged you to…you know, take the job. He probably risked everything—”
“I know.”
“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad.” She bites her lip and a bit of mischief glitters in her usually serious brown eyes. “If I tell you something, you have to promise not to repeat it.”
Unsure of where this new direction in our conversation is headed, I shrug.
“Davey’s a big…um, spender at my agency. And probably several other ones in town.” She touches her chest and quickly adds. “I’ve never been on a date with him. But I know one of the girls he sees a lot.” She tilts her head and studies me. “You guys actually look a lot alike.”
“Creepy.”
“Anyway, he’s boring, loves to talk about himself, and his massive ego is definitely not in proportion to his dick.”