Fractured Beat (Meltdown Book 1) (18 page)

“What made you get help?” he quietly asked. I opened my mouth to answer and clamped it shut when someone knocked on the door. His hand squeezed mine. “Come in!” he called out. I stared down at our entwined fingers and thought about how right my hand felt clasped in his and how, for just this moment, I wished it was real. The door opened and in walked Megan Fox. Grant released my hand and the moment was over. “What’s up Chelle?” he asked. Chelle maliciously stared me down before smiling timidly at Grant.

“Uh, I was wondering if I could talk to you…alone…for a second?” she purred. I could tell by Grant’s expression he was going to tell her no.

“Sure,” I answered. She belonged there more than I did. Suddenly I just had to get away from him, her and the whole twisted scene. “I still have to shower and pack for Charlotte.”

“Mallory,” he growled, as I started to scoot off the bed.

“You two talk and I’ll see you on the bus,” I told him.

“This is far from over,” he warned.

That’s what he thought. As far as I was concerned it was dead and buried. I crawled off the foot of the bed and, as I was straightening my shorts, I spotted his t-shirt lying on the floor. Without thinking, I picked it up and tossed it at him. He let out a bark of laughter and I glanced back at him as I passed Chelle. I was happy to see him pulling the shirt over his head. Luke was nowhere to be seen but Chaz was sitting at the table staring straight at me.

“They’ve been sleeping together the entire time I’ve known Grant,” he announced.

“Good for him,” I said, and headed for the door.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” he called after me.

Sure you don’t.

I jogged down the hall to my suite. As soon as I was safe behind closed doors I let the tears flow. I wasn’t sure why I was crying. Maybe it was because of how kind Grant had been, maybe it was because of what I’d almost let slip, or maybe it was because the tiny kernel of hope had once and for all been squashed. Either way it didn’t matter. This was Grant Hardy’s world, not mine. I was nothing more than the hired help. To forget this would be stupid of me and I was not a stupid girl.

After wiping away my tears I hopped in the shower. While packing I made a mental note to have Grant locate his medical records. I also wanted to see if he could get his hands on that bottle of Oxycodone. If so, I could most likely trace it back to its origins. I was getting paid an obscene amount of money to rehab a man who wasn’t even an addict. The least I could do was help him prove it.

One Step Forward

Grant

A
few years
back we played two nights in Seattle. As always we were pumped up after the show and ready to party. The VIP room was unusually low key that night and, after an hour or so of signing autographs and making small talk, we were on the verge of calling it quits. That’s when Michelle Harrigan and her four friends walked in. Michelle’s older sister was married to one of our sound techs named Glenn. Apparently she’d been begging him for months to score her tickets to one of our shows and had finally gotten her wish. With the face of a seductress and a body to match, Chelle, as she preferred being called, was gorgeous. Like all beautiful women, though, she came with an agenda I could smell from over five miles away. Chelle wasn’t the first to try and tie me down and I was pretty damn sure she wasn’t going to be the last. I wanted her on my terms, not hers. Nothing screamed non-commitment better than a good old-fashioned tag team with your two best friends. Nash, Luke and I made sure to give Michelle and her friends a night they would never forget. In fact, the boys enjoyed it so much that the girls earned themselves an invite back the next night for a repeat performance. Being that I already had plans, I didn’t partake of night two, nor did I think about Chelle again until she turned up at our show in Canada later that month. After Canada, and another wild weekend, we went our separate ways once again, but that wasn’t the last I’d seen of Chelle by a long shot. During the next few months, while we were busy promoting our music, Michelle was launching a blog about music, primarily Meltdown’s music. Within a few months her blog gained such a following that Blane placed her on our list of VIP regulars, something that was next to impossible to achieve. Thinking it was me who’d elevated her status within the group, Chelle began showing up at all of our shows, always with friends, and always ready for a good time. As long as she knew the score, I didn’t care what she did. She may have deemed herself the queen of the Melties, but make no mistake, I was no king and pulled no punches about letting her know this.

The week before Houston we played a small venue in San Antonio. Chelle showed up alone with a big ass chip on her shoulder. Not only did she get hammered, but she tried to pull the girlfriend card, and while I was talking to a reporter, no less. With the help of Nash, I shut her down. I should have cut her loose right then and there, but I didn’t want a scene. I just wanted her gone, so I summoned an Uber and sent her packing. The next day I asked Blane to relay a warning. There better not be a repeat performance or she was history. I didn’t care how big her blog was.

Last night was the first I’d seen or heard from Chelle since Austin. After giving her the brush off not one, but two times, I assumed she’d gotten the hint. I should have known better. This was Chelle I was dealing with and the word “No” was not a part of her vocabulary. When I stepped into the living room and saw her glaring at Mallory this morning, I realized the extent of my mistake. Then Luke, brilliantly stupid Luke, introduced Mallory as my girlfriend. At first I wanted to kill him, but then I saw it for what it was…an opportunity. Not only was this my chance to finally get rid of Chelle, it was my chance to get Mallory exactly where I wanted her…in my bed. There was no way in hell I was going to let Chelle ruin it for me. So what did I do? I agreed with Luke, stole a kiss from Mallory and carried her off to my bedroom where we proceeded to have a very real conversation. No wonder she took her job so seriously, she’d literally been there and walked in those shoes. I felt bad for what she’d been through but damn proud of her for where she’d ended up. My Mallory was a fighter. Right as she was about to give me the rest of the story someone knocked on the door.

“Come in!” I called out, and frowned when Chelle walked in. Not wanting to give her further ammunition, I let go of Mallory’s hand and immediately felt the loss. “What’s up Chelle?” I asked.

“Uh, I was wondering if I could talk to you…alone…for a second?” She made that purring sound in the back of her throat and I saw it for exactly what it was; desperation. I was torn between wanting to continue my conversation with Mallory and needing to cut Chelle loose.

In the end Mallory took care of it for me. “Sure, I still have to shower and pack for Charlotte,” she answered.

“Mallory,” I warned, as she scurried off the bed.

“You two talk and I’ll see you on the bus.”

“This is far from over,” I warned. Right before hitting the door she bent over and picked my shirt up off the floor. I thought she was going to walk out with it but, at the last second, she turned and tossed it at me. Her subtle show of possessiveness made me want her even more. It also made me laugh. I watched her walk out the door and wanted to go after her. Instead I was forced to stay and deal with the problem at hand.

Like an Amazon princess who was much too proud for her own good, Chelle stood in front of me with her head held high and a defiant look in her eye that spelled trouble.

Once I stopped laughing and had my t-shirt on, I gave her my attention. “You wanted to talk?”

She stepped up to the foot of the bed and glared down at me. Funny, when I was sitting here with Mallory minutes ago I felt all kinds of emotion but now I only felt trapped. I didn’t think to question where or with whom Chelle slept last night because I really didn’t give a damn. If it was Mallory standing before me wearing last night’s clothes and looking well fucked by another man it would be a different story with a very different ending. Nevertheless, I just wanted Chelle to say her peace and get the hell out of my life.

“Why didn’t you tell me last night you were seeing someone?” She sounded hurt, but the confrontational gleam in her eye told me otherwise. I could tell she viewed Mallory as a threat, plain and simple. Fear for Mallory and respect for Glenn were the only two things that held me in check.

“I’m sorry, since when do I answer to you?” I challenged.

She immediately backed down. “Of course you don’t answer to me. I doubt you answer to anyone but I thought we had something.”

Chelle may have a big mouth and an even bigger following but I had one thing she didn’t. I had the power to banish her from my world. “You do realize that a relationship is more than just a quickie after a concert, don’t you?” She flinched and I felt bad, but this was on me and it was now up to me to fix it. “Neither of us wanted a relationship, you said so yourself on more than one occasion,” I reminded. As pain flashed across her face I realized how much she’d been hiding from me and I wanted to kick myself for allowing things to ever get this far.

“If you had just told me you wanted more, I –”

“I don’t,” I cut her off. “I mean, I didn’t, until Mallory.” Damn, I sucked at this.

“Why her?” she asked.

I thought about what to say and decided to stick with the truth. “She sees me.”

“I see you! I’ve seen you for years now!” she wailed.

“No, you see what I can do for you and nothing more,” I corrected.

She threw up her hands and shouted, “What does that even mean? I see you!”

I could tell this was heading nowhere fast. “I’m sorry if this hurts you. That was never my intention. I appreciate you taking the time to organize the fan pages and media stuff, but this was never going to happen.
We
were never going to happen. Other than I’m sorry, I’m not sure what else there is to say.”

“Oh, there’s plenty to say,” she snapped.

“Then say it. Get it out on the table. The last thing I want is you walking away hurt or angry.” Without another word she turned and stormed from the room.

Two minutes later I heard a door slam. Within seconds Luke was standing in my doorway with a smirk on his face. “Looks like that went well.” His eyes drifted to the Eat Shit and Die logo on my t-shirt. “And look, you even dressed for the occasion.” My mind wandered back to the jealous look in Mallory’s eyes as she tossed me the t-shirt and I fought back a smile.

“On a scale of one to ten, how pissed are you?” he asked.

“Seven. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t. I froze and just blurted out the first thing I could think of to say. I’m sorry, man, really.” Luke was a great guy but he could be a real bonehead sometimes.

A sleepy looking Nash stepped up beside him and asked, “What’s with all the door slamming and shit?”

“Oh, Mr. laugh-a-minute here introduced Mallory as my girlfriend, to Chelle of all people. Needless to say, she flipped her shit,” I explained.

Nash shrugged and muttered something about birds and stones.

“What?” Luke and I both asked.

“It sounds to me as if he helped you kill two birds with one stone,” he repeated.

“Who says shit like that?” Luke asked.

Nash shook his head at Luke and explained, “Numb nuts here just gave you the perfect way to explain Mallory’s existence and to finally get rid of Chelle. It’s a win, win when you think about it.”

Luke turned to me and smiled. “See? I did you a favor.”

“I can think of a million better ways that could have gone down,” I growled.

He chuckled. “From the way your lips were locked on Mallory’s earlier, I’d have to disagree.” He was not wrong. That kiss was amazing and something I wanted to further explore.

The minute Luke mentioned the kiss Nash’s eyes shot to me. “It seems I missed a lot more than just slamming doors,” he smirked.

Officially through with the current conversation, I moved on to a less desirable but more important topic. “The night I landed in the hospital, what made you search my hotel room for drugs?”

Surprise flashed across Luke’s face and he glanced over at Nash. Nash shrugged, “I’m pretty sure either Chaz or Blane said something to me about it.” Leaning away from the door he called out, “Hey Chaz!”

“Yo!” Chaz answered from somewhere in the suite.

“Was it you or Blane who suggested that we search Grant’s room for drugs the night he ended up in the hospital?”

After a long pause Chaz answered, “Blane, why?”

“How did Blane know to search my room?” I asked the two of them. That got me thinking about Chaz and the way he was with Mallory last night, and I called out, “Hey Chaz?”

“What!” he shouted. I could tell by his tone he was starting to get annoyed.

“What’s up with you and Mallory?”

After an even longer pause than the first, he answered, “Nothing!”

“You sure?”

“Positive!” he shouted. Both Nash and Luke stared at me and I shrugged. If he said there was nothing going on I was going to take his word for it. The phone rang and we heard Chaz pick it up. A few seconds later he shouted, “That was Hank. He says thirty minutes until we load the bus!” The realization that we were going to be late if we didn’t get a move on had us all scrambling.