Fractured Beat (Meltdown Book 1) (27 page)

“Okay,” I told him.

“Okay?” he repeated with a big smile on his face.

I answered him with a deep kiss.

Happenstance Happens

Grant

Eleven Days Later

“I
’m shocked Kirkland
offered us the jet. CiCi flies on jets all the time, but this is my first time on one. I didn’t realize how small a private plane was in comparison to a commercial one.” I could tell by her chatter Mallory was nervous. It was cute. Then again, everything about Mallory Scott was cute.

“I take it you don’t like flying?” Nash asked.

“I prefer being the one in control,” she responded. Hank cut his eyes to me while I stifled a laugh. Nash didn’t bother to hide his humor. Yes, Mallory was definitely a control freak, but then again, so was I.

After we left Raleigh, the tour hit Virginia. Chaz’s song continued to do well, but
Never the Same
was an overnight hit. It wasn’t until Blane showed up in Richmond with news that we were going into the studio to cut it as a single that we realized how big of a success it really was. Nash and I’d discussed putting it on an album on more than one occasion, but had yet to do it. When Blane told us we were going to record it, we all agreed it would be perfect as a single. Well, almost all of us. I felt bad for Chaz. Not bad enough to pass on such an incredible opportunity, but still bad.

Blane pushed for a rush in the studio. He wanted the song released while we were on tour. So, while we busted our asses recording by day, we spent our nights playing to full stadiums. During those three days I spent almost every waking moment with Nash and saw very little of Mallory. Even though I was doing what made me happy, I missed her. I missed her enough to know that things were going to have to change if I wanted to keep her in my life. Luke and Chaz joined us in the studio for some of the time, but primarily it was Nash and me. During recording breaks we played poker or talked. It was the most we’d been together since right before Dale died and we needed the time to figure shit out. What happened to Dale was fucked up. After his death we had no choice but to move on, but we never really talked about the impact it had on us. At the end of the day, each of us played a part in Dale’s downfall. As for Chaz, it wasn’t his fault he wasn’t Dale. Dale was special. Chaz just happened to step into an impossible pair of shoes to fill. It was time we stopped being disappointed at him for falling short.

Nash wasn’t the only score I needed to settle. Blane was back from his business trip and still acting as if he was in control. Something had to give. From the moment Meltdown signed with Happenstance, Blane had been there for us. Having him in the studio again, felt like old times, yet it wasn’t real. Yes, I was angry with him for how he’d treated Mallory, but I no longer wanted to hurt him. I just wanted to talk, to explain how things were going to be from here on out and to see where he stood on the matter. Finally, after day three of recording, we had our little chat. Or should I say, I chatted. Blane mainly listened with a disapproving scowl on his face, especially when I spoke to him about Mallory. I was pretty sure he hadn’t ratted us out to his father at this point, but I wanted to make sure he understood what would happen if he did. I told him if Kirkland fired Mallory, I would cause a shit storm so big it would take the two of them the rest of their lives to dig out from under it.

“We hired Mallory to rehab you, not sleep with you,” he stated in his holier than thou fashion. His head was so far up his ass about Mallory that he was failing to see the bigger picture. I got it. He was pissed and nursing a bruised ego. Well, bruised ego or not, he needed to either find a way past it or move the fuck on.

“You hired Mallory under false pretenses after you sent me to rehab under false pretenses. I’m not sure if you realize this, but more than one law was broken here, Blane.”

“You were so messed up that you fell off a stage and almost died. W-we had no choice,” he sputtered.

“I see your father now has you drinking the Kool-Aid. Let me guess, Kirkland told you he’d let you have Happenstance back for a price. Has he given you the number, yet? His lack of response was answer enough. “Let me ask you this, do you want all of this back bad enough to compromise everything you worked so hard to achieve? Happenstance was yours, not his. So what if you fucked up and he saved you? At what cost? We both know someone drugged me that night and we both know who that someone was. I don’t know about you, but I sure am sick of this fucked up head game your father is playing.”

His eyes dropped to the floor. I wasn’t sure if it was guilt or shame he was feeling. “I had nothing to do with what happened that night,” he quietly said.

“Tell me, was it really Chaz who tipped you off to search my room that night, or was it your father?” His shoulders slumped and he reminded me of a scolded puppy. Suddenly I wasn’t angry anymore. I was sad. Sad, disgusted and fed the fuck up with it all.

I shook my head. “Don’t do this, Blane. Trust me when I tell you you’re backing the wrong horse. Don’t let Kirkland make a bigger fool of you than he already has.”

When his head shot up and he gave me a defiant glare, I almost cheered. This was the Blane I knew and respected, not the pussy he’d become. “He’s my father. He didn’t have to bail me out. He could have left me to face it on my own, but he didn’t.”

“Did you ask me to help? Did you ask Nash or Luke?” I hated to whip a dog when it was down, but I needed him to understand he had better options. When he failed to answer, I continued. “I didn’t think so. He’s your father, but unlike you, he doesn’t have an honorable or decent bone in his body. Let me just say this, when we take him down, which is going to happen, I’d hate for you to get caught in the crossfire, especially if you’re truly innocent in all of this. Not only am I taking him down, but I’m taking over Happenstance in the process. I’d like for you to be a part of it. The guys are backing me on this decision. That includes Hank and his team, as well as Marcy and the PR crew. With or without you it’s going to happen.”

His eyes bugged in surprise. “What? But how? When?”

“You let me worry about the logistics. All you need to do is decide whether or not you want to be a part of it. Remember, though, if you’re not for us then you’re against us.”

After a long pause he asked, “What would you have me do?” His wary tone let me know he wasn’t a hundred percent sure, which meant we still might lose him. Then again, maybe he’d surprise us.

“Run interference with Kirkland for me. Help me get answers. Make sure he doesn’t fire Mallory.”

Nine days passed and Blane still hadn’t come through for me. Mallory hadn’t been fired either. In fact, the tabloids were beginning to buzz with tales about a relationship brewing and Kirkland had not said word one about it. When Nash, Mallory, Hank and I put in our travel plans with Marcy, he even offered to loan us the company jet. I didn’t trust him, but I took him up on his offer.

*     *     *

Mallory’s gaze drifted
from Hank to Nash and then over to me. She smiled and I felt it to the depths of my soul. The past eleven days hadn’t just been good for the band. It had also been good for my relationship with Mallory. At least I liked to think of it as a relationship. She did, after all, confess under sexual duress that she was mine. Since then, I’d made her confess it several more times, all while naked and wet for me. I was still waiting for the moment when she said it on her own, but realized that might take a while. I’d never felt it before, but I was pretty damn sure this was love and, even though she wouldn’t admit it, I was pretty damn sure she felt it too.

After my talk with Blane, I had a similar talk with the guys. We’d experienced a lot together and they’d seen me in ways that no one ever had, but times were changing. I was changing. I needed them to understand this. I also needed for them to stop discussing my past conquests in front of Mallory. After a lot of bitching and a bribe or two, they finally agreed. Ever since then things had been better.

Mallory slipped into the seat next to me and I smiled. I found myself doing that a lot lately. “Penny for your thoughts,” she said.

Threading my fingers through hers, I raised our clasped hands to my lips and kissed her fingers. “You’re going to love Austin, babe.”

“I can’t wait to see where you live.” Neither could I. All I’d thought about for the past eleven days was having Mallory in my house and in my bed. Her eyes drifted to Hank, who was busy fiddling with his phone. He eventually looked up and she asked, “Did Marcel have any luck reaching Dr. Whitfield?” Nash coughed and Hank’s eyes widened in surprise.

Yesterday morning Marcel took off on a covert mission to the rehab facility. We told everyone he’d gone home early to take care of a family issue. For weeks he’d been trying to reach both Whitfield and Nancy by phone. Since neither had bothered to return his calls, Marcel felt a personal visit was in order. I wanted to send Hank, but knew that Marcel’s specialty was gathering information. I had no choice but to let it play out when Hank agreed Marcel was the better man for the job. This morning on the ride to the airport Marcel called Hank to discuss what he’d found. Nash and I tried to distract Mallory while they talked. I should have known it wouldn’t work. Yes, Mallory Scott was way too smart for her own good. Hank shot me a what-do-you-want-me-to-say look and I shrugged.

Mallory’s eyes shifted back and forth between the three of us before hardening into tiny blue slits. “What? Was I not supposed to know that Marcel was visiting The Meadows? Maybe you three shouldn’t talk so loud in the halls, then. Or, better yet, maybe Marcel shouldn’t call and discuss it with you while I’m in the car.”

Hank’s lip twitched in amusement and Nash out and out laughed. I let out a loud sigh. “Go ahead,” I told him.

After letting out a loud bark of laughter Hank informed us that Marcel hit another dead end.

“I’m telling you, I can get Nancy to talk,” Mallory urged, for the millionth time.

“Maybe so, but you’d have to be able to reach her first and, according to Marcel, that’s kind of impossible at the moment,” Hank told her.

“Why?” I asked.

“Apparently both Dr. Whitfield and Nancy have disappeared. No one has a clue as to where they are or when they’ll be back.”

“They ran?” Nash cut in.

“So it seems.”

“Fuuuuck,” he drawled.
Fuck was right
.

The rest of the flight we discussed what to do about the situation. We finally decided there was nothing we could do until they turned back up.

As promised, a large SUV was waiting for us on the tarmac in Houston. Hank drove us straight to the pharmacy once our bags were loaded. I could tell by Mallory’s bouncing foot and jittery fingers she was nervous. I had to admit, so was I. What if we hit another dead end? It took us forty-five minutes and two wrong turns before we pulled in front of what had to be the smallest pharmacy I’d ever seen.

“What the hell is this?” Nash asked.

The ph in the word pharmacy was missing, so the sign read “Marlin’s armacy.”

“Are you sure this is the correct address?” Mallory asked.

“You did say Marlin’s at 5020 Coral Street, right?” Hank responded.

She handed the pills to me and I double checked the address. “Yep, this is it.”

“I’m thinking we’re not going to need that disguise after all,” Nash said.

“Go ahead and put the caps on. You never know,” Hank told us. Mallory reached into her bag and pulled out two baseball caps. Once Nash and I had them on we exited the car. While Hank and Nash were busy buying drinks and chips for us, Mallory and I made our way back to the back corner to the hole-in-the-wall pharmacy. The place smelled like dirty feet.

The pharmacist looked up from her computer and said, “Can I help you?”

“Hey pretty lady, I’m Grant Hardy.” I waited for recognition to hit. After a few seconds of nothing, I gave her a nudge. “You might be familiar with my band, Meltdown?” She blinked and Mallory let out a snort. I shot her a dirty look over my shoulder and she returned it with a thumbs up sign and a grin. With a shake of my head, I focused on the task at hand. “It appears someone used my name to fill this prescription. It’s my name on the bottle, but I’ve never heard of this doctor or your pharmacy before. I was told I had to come in and talk to you in person. I can see by your name tag it was you and…”

Before I could say another word she rudely cut me off. “What exactly do you want, Mr.…Hardy, did you say it was?”

The woman had zero bullshit, so I gave it to her straight. “I want the name of the person who signed for the pills.”

She held out her hand and I placed the pills in her upturned palm. After scrutinizing the label and checking it against my driver’s license, she opened the bottle and dumped the pills onto the counter in front of her. With a nod of her head, she scooped them back into the bottle and placed the cap back on. She handed them over before returning to her computer. After a few minutes, she said, “Got it.” A minute or so later the printer whirred and out popped a sheet of paper. On her way back over to me, she snagged the paper from the printer and slapped it down on the counter in front of me. Pointing to each column as she came to it, she said, “Here’s the date, here’s the prescription number and here’s who picked up the pills.”