Release Me (The Music Within Book 2) (27 page)

Mal
flipped to the front of the book and read the first message. By the time he got
to the end, he noted the tone of the messages had changed. Even though he
couldn’t hear Cade’s voice, Mal knew he was losing hope. After he read the
messages again, Mal put the notebook away and headed outside to spend some time
at least pretending to work. He couldn’t concentrate on anything other than
Cade. He saddled up Cochise and rode to the farthest pastures, giving himself
more alone time to think about what he was going to do.

By
the time Mal made it back to the house, Andy and Bryan were already in the
kitchen getting ready to cook supper.  When Mal pulled his phone out of
his pocket, he had another message from Cade. This one was a video. “I’m gonna
head up and take my shower,” he said as he was already running up the stairs.

This
was new. Hearing Cade’s voice was hard enough, but this video, if it was Cade’s
face, Mal might not be able to handle it. He toed off his boots before settling
the pillows against the headboard. Mal leaned back against them and took a deep
breath. He pushed the play arrow and waves rolling in from the ocean filled the
screen. The white foam stopped just short of Cade’s toes. Those beautiful, long
toes that Mal loved to see poking out from underneath the edge of his ratty jeans.
The phone moved from his feet back to the water, and Mal was about to push
stop. Before the video ended, Cade’s face appeared on the screen. Cade’s
beautiful, sad, scruffy face.
“I miss you, Cowboy. I love you. Still.” 

Mal
thought he knew heartache. He thought he knew misery. He thought he knew what
it felt like to be abandoned and left to fend for himself. He thought wrong.
The anguish on Cade’s face tore Mal apart. In that moment, he realized he had
been a selfish bastard. Yes, Cade kept the truth from him, but he did it out of
love. He bought the farm before he even knew Mal, before he knew what kind of
man Mal really was. Cade had been giving. Loving. Unselfish. Mal had been an
ass. He couldn’t say all he needed to in a text, so he sent a quick message:
Thank
you for what you did with Dwight. I really appreciate it. We need to talk. Face
to face. When you come to Nashville, I will be there.

Feeling
lighter than he had in forever, Mal headed to the shower where he allowed
himself time to think. Time to remember. Time to feel… His fist curled around
his erection as thoughts of Cade’s beautiful, full lips wrapped around Mal’s
cock filled his senses. Mal propped one forearm against the wall and dropped
his chin to his chest. He stroked slowly, pretending his hand was Cade’s tight
asshole. He didn’t try to stop his orgasm as it swept through his body with an
intensity he hadn’t felt since the last time he’d been buried deep inside his
rock star. He shot his seed onto the wall, milking his dick for the last drop.
When the tremors subsided, he finished bathing and turned the water off.

As
he was standing in front of the mirror with the towel wrapped around his waist,
Mal ran his hand over the scar. Cade’s chest was adorned with beautiful artwork
while Mal’s was marred. He imagined Cade’s ink on his own chest and got an
idea. He finished in the bathroom, threw on his clothes, and jogged down the
stairs. His sock feet slid to a stop in the kitchen.

“Can
either one of you draw?” he asked Andy and Bryan.

“My
stick figures don’t even look normal,” Bryan admitted.

“I
can draw a little. Why? What do you need?” Andy asked.

“I
have an idea.” When Mal explained what he wanted, both men raised their
eyebrows.

“So
you talked to Cade?” Bryan sounded surprised.

“Not
exactly. I texted him earlier, but he must be busy.” Mal shrugged. Cade would
eventually text or call. “I want to have this done soon so it has time to heal
before the show in a few weeks. That’s enough time, right?”  They should know
since they both had numerous tats.

“If
you can find a good artist that isn’t booked. This is an important piece, and
you’ll want an experienced tattooist, not an apprentice.”

“Will
you help me find someone while Andy draws it out?” he asked Bryan.

“Yeah,
sure. Let’s eat first then we’ll get to work on it.”

Mal
went to bed that night excited about his appointment the following week in
Nashville with one of the top tattoo artists. He’d gotten lucky, because the
good ones were usually booked months in advance, but one happened to have a
cancellation. Mal couldn’t wait to surprise Cade when he saw him at the
concert. He had been listening to the band’s songs online so he would at least
be familiar with them. He actually liked most of the songs. The ones where the
lead singer screamed, not so much.

Cade
still hadn’t texted or called. After about a week of silence, Mal started to
get worried. He texted Cade and told him as much:
Please at least let me
know you’re ok

Later
that day, Cade sent a short reply:
I’m fine

That
didn’t sit well with Mal. He knew what fine meant to him, but did it mean the
same thing to Cade? He went about his business the best he could with no
further communication from his man. Something was definitely wrong, so Mal
broke down and called. It immediately went to voicemail, so Mal left a message.
“Hey, Cade. Please call me.” He didn’t want to tell him he loved him in a
message. He wanted to say those words to him in person.

The
day before the concert, a UPS truck stopped at the end of the driveway, and the
driver stood at the gate eyeballing Moe and Curly. Mal happened to be outside
getting ready to take Calculus out for some exercise, so he trotted down to the
gate. “Hey there,” he told the good-looking man dressed in ugly brown clothes.

“Got
a delivery for Malcolm Wilson.”

“That’d
be me,” Mal said as he slid off the side of his horse. The driver handed the
envelope across the gate along with a plastic box.

“If
you’ll sign for me, I’ll be on my way.”

Mal
used the crayon-looking stick and signed his name in the tiny square. He handed
the signature box back to the driver and studied the package. He’d only ever
received these from the company, and he was confused as to what they could be
sending him now. He climbed back on Calculus and kicked his heels into her
sides. The horse sped off toward the house, stopping when Mal pulled back on
the reins. He handed her off to Bryan who was waiting with Cochise. “Here,
please watch her.”

He
ripped the tab off the cardboard before he got inside the kitchen. Mal sat down
at the table and removed a set of documents along with a CD. The disc wasn’t in
a case, and there wasn’t a label indicating what was on it. He set the CD aside
and opened the documents. When he saw the word
deed
at the top, he
flipped to the back and saw Cade’s signature. He flipped back to the first page
and read the document. The farm was his. All eleven hundred acres, the barn,
the house, the cattle, the truck, the horses, everything now belonged to Mal.
There was nothing else in the envelope indicating why Cade had given him
everything. Nothing except the CD. His heart crawled up into his throat as he
slid the plastic disc off the table and took it to his office where he could listen
to it on his laptop.

When
Mal pushed play, sounds of an acoustic guitar filled the room. It was a cross
between a country love song and a rock ‘n’ roll ballad. When Cade began
singing, Mal was focusing on the voice and not the lyrics. Cade’s voice was
beautiful, yet haunted. Mal finally paid attention to the words, and his throat
closed up. He couldn’t breathe. He stopped the song and rewound it so he could
listen to it from the beginning.

He
had no idea how long he sat pushing repeat every time the song ended. By the
time Bryan came looking for him, he had memorized all the words.

“Hey,
boss. You okay in here?”

Mal
didn’t respond. He let the song speak for him.

Just
one night was all I asked

You
gave me that and so much more

But
then one night wasn’t nearly enough

Pulling
me in, pulling me under

We
can be friends is what I said

You
agreed to that reluctantly

Even
though I knew it wouldn’t be enough

Pulling
me down, winning me over

You
climbed upon your painted horse

You
threw your rope and pulled it tight

Your
wild horse couldn’t drag me away

Your
silence did the deed instead

Release
me, untangle me from the noose

Release
me, come on Cowboy, turn me loose

Everything
was right as rain

For
a while I believed it was

Until
you said it wasn’t enough

Pushing
me away, pushing me under

Now
my world is torn apart

You’ve
made it clear without a word

The
memories will have to be enough

Carrying
me away, seeing me through

You
climbed upon your painted horse

You
threw your rope and pulled it tight

Your
wild horse couldn’t drag me away

Your
silence did the deed instead

Release
me, untangle me from the noose

Release
me, come on Cowboy, turn me loose

You
climbed upon your painted horse

You
threw your rope and pulled it tight

Your
wild horse couldn’t drag me away

Your
silence did the deed instead

Release
me, untangle me from the noose

Release
me, come on Cowboy, turn me loose

When
the song was over, Bryan grumbled, “Aw hell, Mal. I thought you talked to him.”

“He
wouldn’t call me back,” Mal whispered. He held out the deed for Bryan to see.

“Holy
shit!” Bryan exclaimed. Andy finally came looking for them. As soon as he
stepped into the room, Bryan showed him the papers.

“Holy
shit,” Andy mimicked Bryan as he often did. “Why would he do this? I thought
things were good between you.”

“He
never called me back. I just assumed he was busy. I guess he was, gettin’ on
with his life.”

“What
are you going to do?” Bryan asked, handing the deed back to Mal.

“There’s
nothin’ I can do. It’s clear he doesn’t want anything to do with me. I waited
too long. I shoulda called. Texted. Somethin’. This is all my fault. I waited
too long, and now he’s movin’ on.”

“I’ll
ask you again, what are you going to do? The Malcolm Wilson I know isn’t a
quitter.”

“But
he’s…”

“But
nothing. You love him? You want him? You gotta fight for him.”

Mal
turned the song off. If he listened to those painful lyrics one more time, he
would lose his mind. “Yeah, I love him. I just hope it’s enough.”

Cade

When
the band first hit the road, Cade had marked the days until he could get back
to Nashville. To Mal. Now, he wished they could bypass Music City and keep on
going. Somewhere. Anywhere but there. He had waited weeks for Mal to call or
text, and when he finally did, it was the one message Cade had dreaded.
Face
to face.
Cade told Mal if he was ever going to break things off to do it
face to face, and that’s what he was doing. Now, Cade would rather Mal take the
coward’s way out, because Cade wouldn’t be able to handle Mal telling him it
was over in person.

Gerard
had fought him tooth and nail over signing the farm over to Mal, but in the
end, it was what Cade knew had to be done. What he wanted done. It was his plan
all along to return the farm to its rightful owner; he just didn’t think it
would happen so soon. He thought it would be a wedding gift somewhere down the
road. Yeah, stupid dream that was.

Cade
did his level best to keep his heartache from showing around the other guys in
the band. He smiled when smiled at, laughed when someone said something funny.
He gave his all in each and every performance. Signed autographs and graciously
refused the advances of groupies after the shows. Maybe one day he would get back
to taking some random guy back to his room, but he doubted it. He had given
himself over to Mal, completely. Heart and soul. That wouldn’t go away quickly,
if ever.

Bryan
texted him, asking about the backstage passes. Cade should be excited to see
the big guy, but he couldn’t find room in his heart for anything other than
sadness. He didn’t return the message immediately. This time of night was the
worst. The guys were winding down after the show and doing their own thing. It
was his turn to take the lounge in the back of the bus, and he was lying on the
sofa, jonesing for a cigarette. The other guys didn’t smoke, and he wouldn’t
have smoked on the bus anyway. Instead, he found his pack of rainbow Twizzlers
and dug around for a blue one. He shoved it in his mouth and bit off the end.
As he chewed, he sent a quick reply to Bryan. “Your passes will be at will
call.”

He
didn’t ask about Mal, because he knew by now his cowboy had already received
the deed and the CD.
Not your cowboy anymore.
The disc contained a rough
copy of the song he had written, but it was good enough for Mal to hear how
Cade felt. He didn’t try to keep the sadness or the anguish out of his voice
when he sang the lyrics that brought tears to his own eyes.

Cade
tossed his phone to the floor and flipped the overhead light off. He didn’t
bother pulling the sofa out to make a bed. Instead, he finished eating the
tangy candy in the dark before stretching out on his back. He slung an arm over
his eyes and tried like he did every night to think of something other than
Malcolm Wilson. When he first set out on the road, he welcomed visions of the
cowboy. Pictured him riding out on his painted horse, so comfortable in the
saddle. Slinging a hammer when he was repairing the fence, the muscles in his arms
bunching and releasing under his tanned skin. The way he took his ball cap off
and replaced it for no apparent reason. The way his blue eyes lit up right when
his orgasm took over before he closed his eyes tight. Now, Cade did his best to
keep any and all thoughts of Mal out of his head. The sooner he went to sleep,
the sooner tomorrow would be there, and he could finally get the day over with.

Cade
was tired and irritable from lack of sleep. The others knew about him and Mal,
but they didn’t bring the subject up. As he walked toward the galley from the
back of the bus in search of coffee, the three of them didn’t bother to say
good morning. “I’m not that fucking bad,” he chastised them.

Roarke,
who never had trouble giving anyone shit, cocked an eyebrow. “Is that so?
When’s the last time you spoke without growling? Seriously, man, I get it. We
all do. Life on the road’s hard on relationships.”

“No,
you don’t get it. I fucked up. I thought I was doing something nice, but it
backfired on me. He thinks I lied, and now he won’t forgive me. I told him if
he was going to end things to at least have the guts to say it to my face, and
here we are. Nashville-fucking-Tennessee. The end of the line for me and the
cowboy.”

“What
did you do that was so bad?” Logan asked. Cade had never told them anything
about how he and Mal met. All they knew was Cade loved the man.

“I
bought his farm and didn’t tell him. He was going to lose it to a big land
developer, so I put in a higher bid and saved the land that had been in his
family for generations from being turned into a strip mall. Only I didn’t tell
him I did it. From the beginning, Mal had a problem with how much money I have.
I thought if I told him it was me who bought the farm, he would hate me. Now he
hates me even more because I didn’t tell him I did it.”

Reed
whistled low. “Damn, Cade. You wanna buy me a nice house in Beverly Hills? I
mean, we do pretty well as a band, but to buy a guy you didn’t know a goddamn
farm?”

“Fuck
you, Bennett,” he shot back at the lead singer, but Reed just grinned.

“Maybe
seeing you tonight will remind him how hot you are, and he’ll get down on his
knees,” Roarke offered. Cade turned his scowl to the crazy-assed guitarist.
Roarke held up his hands in surrender. “To beg you to take him back. Because if
I see him on his knees for any other reason, I might have to take a video of
that.”

Cade
picked up a handful of coffee creamers and tossed them at the guitarist.
“You’re sick.”

“Nah,
just a little perverted,” he replied, smiling evilly.

Cade
knew the guy wasn’t lying, having seen the porn Roarke watched. If Roarke got a
look at how exquisite Mal was, he would probably be begging for a threesome. He
had never come on to Cade, but one night when Cade walked in on Roarke jacking
off in the lounge, the man never slowed his strokes. Instead, he licked his
lips in invitation, but the sight of Roarke jacking off did nothing to stir
Cade’s dick. When he turned around and closed the door on the guitarist, it was
that moment Cade had no doubt he loved Mal and wanted nobody else.

The
day flew by. Sound check was flawless, and now Cade was standing in front of
the mirror in the bathroom. He had let his beard grow back out. Not for Mal,
but because he was too fucking disinterested in shaving. He pulled out his
razor and slapped shaving cream on his neck. After scraping the scraggly shit
off, he put a guard on his clippers and trimmed the beard to the length it had
been the last time he’d seen Mal. He took extra time gelling his hair, getting
the blondish strands to do exactly as he wanted. If Mal was going to break
things off, Cade was going to look good on the outside while he did it. The
last sight the cowboy had of Cade would hopefully make him regret his decision.

Cade
checked his phone at least a hundred times before Bryan let him know they were
at the arena. They had backstage passes that allowed them to stand at the side
of the stage during the show, but Bryan said they were hanging out in the
crowd. Cade was relieved at that. Seeing Mal after the show would be bad
enough. Trying to play a sold out gig with his heart shredded to miniscule bits
would be impossible.

The
Neurotic Prophets were finishing up their encore, and it was almost time for
Cade to take his seat. Never had he been more nervous playing a show than he
was tonight. Mal had heard him play guitar and piano and knew how he sounded
when he sang. But this was Cade in his element. Cade baring his soul to the
world. Mal would probably never see this again, and Cade wanted it to be
perfect.

Finally,
the sets were swapped out, and it was time. Cade inserted his ear monitors and
adjusted the box on the back of his jeans. The guys huddled as they did before
every show and wrapped their arms around each other’s shoulders. No words were
said; they allowed their combined adrenaline to seep into the person next to
him. Reed released his arms first as always, and Cade walked over and took his
place behind his massive drum kit. Mal was somewhere in the crowd. Since the
floor was standing room general admission, he could be anywhere. Or nowhere.
Cade cleared his mind of Mal, and set up the beat for the first song as the
others made their way to the stage.

Time
crawled, yet at the same time, it flew by. As the band stood on stage after
their encore, Cade tossed sticks into the crowd. He didn’t try to find Mal or
Bryan in the sea of bodies clambering for a souvenir. He waved at no one in
particular and headed to the side of the stage. The men walked to their dressing
rooms together with their body guards. Too many crazy fans were able to slip by
unnoticed no matter how good security was. Before Cade stepped into the room
Carl had secured for him to use privately, he told Reed, “You’re probably not
going to see me at the after party.”

“No
problem. We’ve all had those nights,” he responded and cupped Cade behind his
head. “You do what you have to do.”

Carl
opened the door for Cade, and he was immediately accosted by an excited Bryan.
“Man, what a fucking show! You were phenomenal. And your drum solo? Oh my god!
How do you play for that long without needing a break? Seriously, that was the
shit!”

Cade
couldn’t help but grin at his friend’s excitement. He considered both Bryan and
Andy friends. They had kept in contact these last few weeks, even if they
wouldn’t elaborate on Mal’s well-being too much. Cade grabbed a towel and wiped
the sweat from his forehead and neck. “Practice, my man. Lots of practice and
gym time. How are you?” Cade asked. He turned toward the sofa in search of the
cooler he kept full of Gatorade for after the show. Mal was leaning against the
far wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

Cade
couldn’t move. Mal was even more handsome than he remembered. Seems like he
wasn’t the only one who took extra care with his looks for this moment. Mal’s
normally smooth face was scruffy, like he intentionally forgot to shave for a
couple of days. His dark hair was cropped close on the sides but longer than it
had been on top. His jeans gripped those slim hips snugly, and his Divining the
Dark t-shirt stretched taut over his chest and biceps. Cade was pretty sure he
was drooling. Mal was picture perfect and would put any cover model to shame.
If he’d really wanted to be tormented, Cade would’ve asked him to turn around
so he could get a good look at his ass. There was nothing sexier than his
cowboy in a pair of Wranglers.

When
he raised his eyes to Mal’s face, the blue orbs staring back at him took him by
surprise. This wasn’t a man who looked like he was going to break things off.
Mal looked like he was ready to drop to his knees and blow Cade. He looked
around to make sure Roarke was nowhere near, and it was then he noticed Bryan
and Carl had left the room.

Mal
found his voice first. “Hi.”

That
one word just about knocked Cade to his knees. It was music to his soul. His
soul that was soon to be crushed.

“Hi,”
he croaked. Cade cleared his throat and tried again. “Hi, Mal. You look good.”

Mal
pushed off the wall, and before Cade knew what was happening, Mal had his neck
in a vice grip and was crashing their mouths together. Surprise had Cade
gasping, and Mal took advantage of the opening to slide his tongue home.
Home
.

Cade
couldn’t breathe. Not just because Mal was claiming his mouth, but because his
heart was threatening to burst with the one thing Cade hadn’t felt in over a
month – hope.