Encore (Tin Gods Rock Stars #4)

Prologue

Alice Rose

Croke Park

Dublin, Ireland

18 Months Ago

I twisted my fingers behind my back. “Um, Harper?”

Harper Grey, our tour manager, turned and smiled. “Hey, Alice. What’s going on?”

I shifted my weight. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. “While I was packing up the equipment, I found someone’s drug stash.”

Harper closed her eyes and cursed.

“It’s not mine,” I babbled on. “I’m willing to do whatever drug testing you need to do. But it’s, uh, bad. The usual blunts and rolling paraphernalia, but also some vials of um, white powder…”

“Fuck. Show me.”

I cringed and headed for the door. Harper followed me through the twisty corridors heaving with people to the large room where we’d housed the instruments. Guitars, microphones, and a few drums littered the space. I headed for the boxes in the far corner. My hands only slightly shook as I opened one and then gestured for her to come over.

Harper approached the box like I was hiding a venomous snake inside—all tentative and afraid to look.

But it wasn’t a snake. At the bottom of the box, inside the inverted drum was the paraphernalia I’d described, including three small vials of white powder.

“Shit.”

Harper scowled, and I could all but see her thoughts flit across her face. She was no doubt counting up all the charges we’d be facing if customs had found it instead of me. And all the suspects who could’ve placed it here. Me. Noah. The opener’s drummer, Ian. So many countless roadies and crew members who all had access to the space. Security. Venue employees.

Too many suspects to narrow it down.

“Right. Was there anyone in the room or the vicinity?”

I shook my head. “I ran into Grady in the hallway on the way here. But the room was empty while I was organizing gear.”

Which only added Jesse’s bass tech to the long list of suspects.

“Okay. I need you to go through all your gear and make sure there aren’t any other surprises. We’re supposed to ship to England tomorrow, and that means customs checks. The last fucking thing we need is for them to find more. Or shit, anything.” She picked her way through the mess of boxes to the door. “And I’ll call the other techs and get them in here to run the same checks on their gear.”

Harper paused and toggled her headset on. “Marisol. Come in, Marisol.” After a beat she continued, “Page all the instrument techs and have them—”

She broke off as Noah slid into the room. He visibly jolted when he spotted her. His eyes darted straight to me kneeling over the drug stashed box in the corner. I swore I saw fear in his eyes before he straightened and tried to look unaffected.

My heart sank all the way to my toes.

They were Noah’s drugs.

“Belay that,” Harper barked into her headset. “I think I have everything I need here. Tell Xander that I’m busy right now, and I’ll see him back at the rental.” Then she keyed off the mic and shook her head. “Why?”

Noah blinked lazily and slouched against the wall. “Why what?”

“You know exactly what. Do you have any idea how much trouble we would be in if customs found your stash? How much trouble I would be in? I’m the person in charge. I’d be the one pulled in for questioning. I’d be the one with their ass on the line. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

All the fake levity fell away as the expression in his eyes hardened. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. And I resent the hell out of the way you’re speaking to me. I just came in here looking for Diego. Someone said they saw him in here earlier. If you found a stash, it ain’t mine.”

A muscle flexed in Harper’s jaw.

They went back and forth yelling at each other about the drugs, but I could tell from the other side of the room that he was high right now. How was everyone missing the signs?

The jitteriness.

His red eyes.

His shifty body language.

The man was guilty as fuck. And high as a kite right now .

“Do you seriously have nothing to say to me?” Harper finally asked, her voice trembling as much as his hand had.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. Whatever you found isn’t mine, and you can’t prove it is.”

“Get the fuck out of my sight.” She stared him down until he finally shrugged and turned to leave.

“Wait!” She hollered then continued without even waiting for him to turn back around. “There better not be any shit in any other kit or luggage. I will not be doing prison time for you.”

Noah swung back around and pointed a finger in her face. “You better watch how you’re talking to me. I’m the fucking client here.”

I stood up from my crouch and clenched my hands into fists. I didn’t care who the fuck he was. If Noah was going to take even a step toward Harper, I had her back.

“When it comes to my livelihood and my fucking reputation, I’ll talk to you how you fucking deserve.” Harper sneered. “Now get the fuck out of here before I call security on your ass.”

“Actually, that’d help me since— like I said —I’m looking for Diego.” Noah gave her another angry glare that would’ve made me wilt, but Harper was too pissed off to even flinch.

My pulse pounded in my ears. This wasn’t good. He was all but threatening her. And it was just the two of us small women in here against him.

Fuck.

Fuck .

Harper keyed the mic on her headset. “Marisol, I need security to my location. At least three guys. Do not send Diego. Security to my location.”

Noah tossed her a disgusted smirk before slamming through the door.

Harper took a deep, shuddering breath before answering someone on the headset. “Cancel security. Threat is under control. Code green.”

I unclenched my fists and shook out all the tension that’d had my whole body knotted up. Of course when I did, I managed to tip over the box holding a backup ride cymbal.

The clattering of boxes had Harper swinging around, fists high, ready to fight. I gave her a sheepish smile.

She relaxed with a sigh. “Right. Sorry, Alice. I forgot you were here.” She took a few more breaths. “Uh, about that whole scene—”

“Forgotten.”

Harper shook her head. “I don’t want you to forget anything. I want you to go through every piece of drum kit yourself and verify they’re clear. And you’re going to have to do that every time we ship. I’ll stick around and help tonight, and it’ll be either me or Marisol lending a hand in the future.”

I nodded determinedly.

“I don’t have to tell you this is a delicate situation.” She went on, “To date, the only people in the know are you, me, and Noah. And in a few minutes, Marisol. It better stay that way. You’ve signed an NDA. We can and will make sure that you abide by it or pay the penalty in your contract. And trust me; no one wants that to happen. Especially you.”

I gave her a stoic stare. I didn’t need the veiled threat. I knew who paid my paycheck, and it wasn’t druggie Noah Hawker. “I hear you. I’ll get started.”

“I have a few phone calls to make, then I’ll be back to lend a hand.”

I nodded again, already arranging my kit. I had a shitload of boxes to go through before we shipped off for the UK tomorrow. Joy.

Fucking addicts.