Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
CALLUM/CASH
Now
Amplified Static & Borrowed Time
The band still treats me like I’m one awful night away from the edge. They’re not wrong.
Ipace the stage, getting used to the space before tonight’s sold-out show. “At least opening night is in LA.”
Bren stops plucking his guitar strings. “But we’re off to San Deago right after, so don’t get any ideas about staying one more night. Livianna can handle us traveling.”
Hawke completes a drum roll like he’s building up to an explosion. “But can Cash?”
That’s the million-dollar question hanging in the air like smoke, and nobody rushes to clear it. Least of all me.
I drag a hand through my hair and keep trekking the length of the stage because the honest answer is the one I’m not giving any of them. I don’t know if this tour is the right thing to do, but it’s required for the new album’s success.
“How about you worry about staying in tune and leave my marriage out of it.” I stop at the edge of the stage and stare out at forty thousand empty seats.
Tonight these seats won’t be empty. Tonight they’ll be packed with people who paid good money to watch me bleed in public and call it rock and roll.
Bren laughs low and without warmth. “Your marriage is fine. You’re the problem.”
He’s already gone back to his strings, which means he believes what he just said. That’s the thing about Bren. He doesn’t throw words out to fill space. Every one of them lands exactly where he intends. He’s just like his pops in that respect.
I turn toward him. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Guns.”
“I meant it as one.” He adjusts a peg with two precise turns. “You’re spiraling before the tour even starts.”
“I am not.” I growl under my breath because he knows me well enough to know I’m terrified about being out on the road without Livianna.
She’s starting to smell things. She even thought she tasted pineapple on our honeymoon. Memories have come back, and with me out of the picture and Jaxon in center frame, I’m more than concerned.
Hawke spins a stick between his fingers. “Just to be straight with you, Cash. You’re kinda spiraling. Sorry, bro, but you’ve asked us to be supportive of you, and this is what that looks like.”
“Whatever.” I search the stage for the mic. “Let’s get soundcheck done, and then relax for a while.”
Cooper starts working his fingers on his bass. “You staying clean?”
“Yes. Why?” I find the mic where I left it, right on the fucking stand.
“Just checking.” He turns away and plays a few bars.
We jump between riffs and song fragments, tweaking instruments and monitor levels as we go.
My heart pounds from the adrenaline coursing through my veins. “I fucking love this.”
This feeling never gets old. Knowing the crowd is out there singing along because they love our music is what got me into the game.
Once we’re done, the heaviness reappears in my chest. I tap my fist to my heart to try to release it, but it’s lodged there like a permanent fixture.
Hawke climbs down from his kit with a smile from ear to ear. “We’re going to blow the fans away. We sound sick as hell.”
“Yeah, we do.” I run my palm over my neck.
Bren pats me on the shoulder. “You sure you’re doing okay? This is the first time out on the road since you two got back together.”
I glance his way. “Yeah, just a little wired for tonight.”
Bren holds me back with his palm as Cooper and Hawke strut off backstage.
Once they’re out of earshot, Bren scans over me. “You’re not on coke, are you?”
“No.” I bunch up my face, irritated he’s questioning me. “What the fuck, mate? You’re supposed to know me better than that.”
“I do. That’s why I asked.”
I huff and roll my eyes. “I’m not on any drugs, asshole.”
“Fuck bro, you can be such a prick.”
“I’ve never claimed not to be one.”
He shoves me, but there’s no malice in it. “There’s the Cash I know and love.”
I push him back. “Why do you love tormenting me?”
“It’s fun.” He smirks and turns. “Is Livianna gonna be here soon?”
I check my phone. “Yeah. She should be.”
“That means you have enough time to tell me what’s really bothering you.” He gestures for me to follow as he marches down the hall.
“Nothing’s bothering me, mate.” I fall into step behind him, and we push through the stage door into the corridor beyond. It’s quieter back here, but something about it is more ominous. “Why are you on my case? You know it’s just nerves.”
Bren stops and turns. “Does any of this have to do with Jaxon?”
“Why the fuck would I be thinking of him?”
“Don’t do that.” Bren glares, the kind that tells me he’s not about to put up with my shit.
“Do what?” I splay my hands out before me. “I don’t get what Jaxon has to do with tonight.”
“It’s not tonight I’m referring to.” Bren leans a shoulder against the wall and crosses his arms. “I may have overheard something. A rumor.”
I tense as my stomach rolls. “What kind of rumor?”
“The kind that involves Livianna and a Malibu address.” He glances around, then lowers his voice. “That mansion she was living in is Jaxon’s.”
I take a deep breath, trying to find a way out of this. There’s no version of this conversation where I play dumb and Bren believes it.
“Yeah. What about it?”
“You’re not surprised by the news, I see.”
I turn my head to give myself some time to figure out how to handle this.
“Cash, you know you can talk to me.”
I face him. “Yeah, but it’s not a topic I like to focus on.”
“When did you figure it out?” Bren pushes off the wall as if he’s waiting to catch me when I decide to run off and demand Livianna comes with me.
“The night of the accident.” I run my palm over my mouth. “Before you say shit, I don’t need a fucking lecture about how I’m handling everything with Livianna.”
“Hey, man. I’m on your side. I’m just checking in on you.”
“Why? Do I look like I’m about to relapse?” I ask, sarcastically.
“Yeah, bro, you do.” He raises his eyebrows and burns his gaze into mine. “She’s on a plane with him tomorrow night, and they’ll be together?—”
“I fucking know, Guns. Leave it alone.”
“Can’t. You told me to hold you accountable. If you don’t figure out how you’re gonna handle that, then you’re asking for trouble out on the road. This isn’t fucking rocket science, Cash.”
I lean my back against the wall and stare up at the ceiling. “My therapist says to trust in my relationship with Livianna, or come out and talk to her about it.”
“Not bad advice, if you ask me.”
“I can’t bring this up to Livianna.”
“Why?”
“Her doctor told us to let her remember on her own.” My heart rate speeds up. “I’m doing everything I can to do things right. I can’t fuck it up because I have a little doubt in my mind.”
He hits my chest with the back of his hand. “Have you ever thought the doctor is wrong?”
I take that in as I mess with the chain hanging off my belt loop that leads into one of my pockets.
“Would you tell her?” I peer over at Bren. “If you were in my?—”
“Hi, love.” Livianna comes into view with a security guard guiding her straight to me. “Hi, Bren. Ready for the show?”
He glances between us. “Hey, sis. Yeah, we’re ready. Glad you’re here for opening night.”
She reaches my side and gives me a quick peck on the cheek. “The last time I saw you guys play was years ago. I’m sure you’re going to blow me away.”
I bring her closer. “You saw us play in April at Coachella.”
“I’m talking about when I remember it.” She lowers her head. “God, I wish I could have those memories back.”
Bren’s lips press into a hard line. After a pause, he starts to strut away. “I’m out. I’ll see you two backstage.”
“We’ll be back there soon.” A rock forms in my gut.
I pull her into my chest before she can read whatever is still written on my face from the conversation Bren just walked away from.
She settles against me the way she always has, and I know this is how it’s supposed to be. I close my eyes and hold her tight in my arms.
“Are you okay?” Her palms press flat against my back. “You looked tense when I first saw you.”
“I’m fine.” I rest my chin on the top of her head. “Better now that you’re here.”
She tips back and peers up at me, studying my face. “Cash Mayze doesn’t do fine. Cash Mayze kills it out there.”
“It’s weird hearing you call me Cash.” I brush a strand of hair away from her face and keep my hand there, thumb grazing her cheekbone. “You’re here, and that’s all that matters.”
“You still get nervous before shows.” She smiles, giving me all her belief in me. “You’re going to do fantastic, Callum.”
“We haven’t performed this album live yet. The crowd might hate it.”
“No, they won’t.” She does a quick once-over. “Why do you still seem nervous?”
“Because I wanna impress you. It’s been that way since the first time you sat on that gray sectional in your brother’s basement and I played the piano for you.”
Her eyes sparkle. “You were trying to impress me?”
“Every day since, Lily.” I run my thumb along her jaw and take my time because we never get enough of these moments that aren’t shadowed by everything pressing in from every direction. “Tonight’s no different.”
“But there is one difference.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“You’ll be singing to your wife tonight, not your ex-girlfriend.”
“Fuck, Lily. I love that thought.” The heaviness in my chest lifts. I cup her face in both hands and keep her exactly where she is. “I wanna play tonight for us. For where we are right now.”
“And if you keep looking at me like you are, I’m going to be wrecked up in that VIP box.”
“You’re gonna be off the side of the stage. I want you close.”
“So, no VIP box?”
“Nah, you’re gonna be right at my side.”
“Ride or die, I’ll always be by your side.” She laughs. “See, now I’m a poet. Maybe I should start writing for Mayhem.”
I chuckle as I hug her tighter. “I think I’ve got that part covered.”
“Are you saying you don’t think I could?”
“No, Lily. If you wanna write music, I’m all for it, but it won’t be for Mayhem.”
“Darn.” She gazes up at me with a childlike smirk. “I was hoping it could be my backup plan if Lehlani Rose Designs doesn’t work out for me.”