Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Roy might have been surprised to know DJ was doing the exact same thing. Joan Baez, how crazy was that? And the connection to the mother he’d discussed with DJ was another nice reveal.
He wondered who Roy listened to on his off time. No matter who his favorites were, he probably had strictly assigned roles for the music in his life. Workout music, unwinding music, go to sleep music. Brush his teeth music.
He glanced down at the Tootsie Pop. Roy picked up on nuances and details for security reasons, while DJ did it to write his songs.
Had Roy noticed the change in Tal’s expression when he chided all of them, and yet offered them the candy?
A kid didn’t have to have had a father to have the yearning for one.
Yeah, Roy definitely had a “Who’s Your Daddy” thing. When they did “Bad Guy” by the Interrupters, DJ couldn’t resist giving Roy a side eye as he promised he could take control, and DJ would be his animal.
Those steel gray eyes, the tightening of his lips and set of his jaw were a deliberate echo of the face he’d shown DJ in the live room. A Master’s secret warning, reminding him to behave. DJ missed a chord.
Fortunately, no one caught it because on the “tough guy” part, Tal pointed at Roy, left the bunk and started jumping around like a gorilla. Roy rolled his eyes at him.
“Okay, one more,” DJ said. “Otherwise I’m not going to have a voice for the next show, and the fans are way more important than you lot. Except for Lonnie, of course. And by the way, you keep skipping your turn. Times up.” DJ dipped the headstock of his guitar at her. “What would you like to hear?”
“Ben E. King’s ‘Stand By Me’ is one of my favorites.
” She leaned against Steve’s side, his arm resting around her back, hand curved over her hip.
Since she had her skinny legs across his lap, his other arm lay upon them.
Two people in love and wanting to be tangled together whenever the opportunity presented itself. DJ knew the feeling.
Steve raised a brow when DJ didn’t respond right away. “Going to let my girl down?”
“Never. But…” DJ tapped his thumb on the bridge. The strings hummed. “That song works best under a sky full of stars, with lots of open space all around.”
She looked enchanted, and Steve snorted. “He spouts that shit and women melt. It’d be annoying if he did it on purpose.”
Tal bounced back up onto the bunk and bent forward in his seated position, the heel of one of his swinging feet bouncing off Pete’s face.
When the bassist shoved at his calf, Tal bent over to make a face at him, then tilted it toward DJ, a grinning clown.
“Sounds like you found the reservation info in my bag. Who’s up for an overnight camping trip? ”
Pete eyed him. “Man, what are you smoking today?”
Tal straightened with a satisfied look. “I rented a campground about fifty miles this side of where we’re going. I know you like your quiet spaces, DJ. And after that shooting shit, I thought you might want a break. It’s got a bunch of cabins with indoor plumbing, cable and a pool.”
“Water slide?” Pete asked.
“You know it.” The grin came back. “We’ll give up tonight’s pricey hotel rooms to our techs already on site doing set up. Since Moss didn’t schedule any promo for us before the concert, I figured we could squeeze in the break.”
“Did you think about letting security know?”
Roy’s cool tone brought a pause to the enthusiastic responses.
“Don’t get your shorts in a bunch, Roy,” Tal said.
“The only one who knew the plan and location was me. I’m not an idiot.
It was a surprise for everyone. The staff prepares the spot for guests in advance, but they’re not there. It will just be us.”
He turned to Steve, Pete and DJ, his expression becoming more earnest. “Next week is the anniversary of our first gig together.”
“Did you use your own name when you made the reservation?” Roy asked.
Tal shot him an irritated look. “I used Moss’s agency name. Most people don’t know that kind of shit.”
“Most isn’t everyone. And anyone with an internet connection knows Atlanta is your next show.”
Tal bristled. “Doesn’t your job description include being ready for the unexpected? You got a problem having to work a little fucking harder to earn what DJ’s paying you from his own pocket?”
“Zed, stop the bus,” DJ said.
The driver glanced at the wall of trees passing by. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“That works. Find a good shoulder.”
DJ set aside his guitar as the bus rumbled to a stop. He jerked his head toward the door. “Let’s talk outside.”
As Tal started to rise, DJ raised a hand. “Nope. I’m talking to Roy. Alone.”
Tal was already clenched up and spoiling for a fight, but DJ ignored his look of surprise and moved toward the door,
not waiting for Roy to precede him. He could give him shit for that outside, too.
Except Zed didn’t open the door. DJ almost face-planted into it. He shot the driver a glare, and Zed uneasily pointed to Roy, rising from his seat. “He read me the riot act about letting anyone off the bus before he said it’s okay.”
“C’mon Roy,” Pete teased as Roy headed for the rear door. “What could go wrong with a bunch of secluded cabins in the woods?”
“The setting of half the horror movies ever made?” Steve threw a balled-up chip bag at him. “Dude, shut up.”
Roy got off the bus, and a minute later, signaled to Zed that he could open the front door. “Sorry,” Zed muttered.
DJ gave him a curt nod and exited the bus. He walked down a DOT-mowed slope. Though the bus had no identifying markers, and it was getting dark, it was obviously a tour bus, so he wore his ball cap over his trademark curls. In his old T-shirt and jeans, he would pass for a roadie.
As Roy came to stand at his side, DJ took a moment to control his temper while looking at the trees.
Roy gave him the time, the two of them standing shoulder to shoulder.
DJ thought of the other night, what they had shared, and the things it had revealed to him about Roy.
There was so much more he wanted to learn, but DJ wouldn’t let his desires interfere with this. It was too important.
“You’re paying me directly?” Roy said unexpectedly.
“You think I’d have Moss include my personal protection in band expenses?”
“Since if they lose you, it would severely impact the band, yeah. But it’s your money.” Roy turned to face him. “DJ, it was stupid of him not to include me. Worst case, he did it deliberately, because he’s fucked up and resents authority. Best case, he was irresponsible and careless.”
“He did think about it. He thought an unplanned stop only known to him would be pretty secure.”
“I don’t assume I know how to play drums because I can pick up sticks and beat on them. How many campground employees have made guesses at who might have reserved it, talked about it with friends or family, posted it on their social media…”
“Roy…” DJ hooked his hands behind his neck and dropped his head back, blowing out a breath. “I know your first job is protecting me, but I need you to figure this out with Tal without tearing him down for it.”
“Coddling him doesn’t help anything.”
“This isn’t that. He has these moments—granted, fewer and fewer—where he’s trying to stay connected to us. He’s fighting the self-destructive parts of himself.”
And losing. Even the way he’d presented the gift was borderline manic, telling DJ he was coasting on the dregs of his latest high.
DJ dropped his hands and stared at the wall of trees.
“I’d like to acknowledge the effort. Maybe it’ll help him keep it together a few more weeks, until this tour is over and I can get him into rehab. ”
He offered Roy a grim half smile. “You know any facilities that’ll take someone brought there against their will?”
“Prison.” Roy obviously wasn’t willing to lighten the mood.
“Roy, he chose a place well away from dealers.” Probably because he’d stocked up at their latest venue.
Roy’s expression said he’d had the same thought. Only a stride between them, but stuff like this created a much bigger distance. DJ longed for the intimacy of the other night. But it was what it was.
“Tell me the truth. Can you cover it?” He was asking as the client. “Keep us all safe?”
A muscle twitched in Roy’s jaw. “Yeah. I can make it work. But it shouldn’t happen again. He needs to understand that, though I’m pretty sure he’s too messed up to get it. You’re na?ve if you assume otherwise.”
That anger returned, and this time DJ didn’t dial it back. He was tired of Roy thinking he was an idiot. At least for the wrong reasons.
“You think I don’t know what destruction an addict causes?
I was in foster care because my single mom died from an overdose of pills.
She gave me a handful in my Spaghetti-Os, thinking I’d be better off coming with her.
I nearly died. The docs say it’s why I have the metabolism of a house wren.
The two years to keep me on the right side of the ground, and then the decade after that where I had to deal with a grab bag of illnesses caused by a shitty immune system kept me from being adoptable. ”
“You didn’t tell Leann that.” The startled look in Roy’s eyes said it wasn’t information he’d had, either.
Unsurprising, since “mother deceased from overdose” was the only notation on his paperwork.
Marjorie had found out DJ’s rocky health history from a social services worker who took care of him during those first two years.
The rest had been lost along the way. Probably in a file fallen to the back of a drawer somewhere.
“Not her business,” DJ said shortly. “Only mine and theirs,” he nodded toward the bus, “because they get what that makes us.”