Amplified (Recoil #2)

Chapter One

RYAN

Three little words, that’s all it took.

Three little words to shake me to the core and turn my world upside down.

I didn’t want to hear them.

I wasn’t ready to hear them.

But she said them anyway.

And it changed everything.

“You could die,” Dr. Shilts states.

“Is it really that bad, Doc?” I question.

She sighs, places her hands on the table, interlocks her fingers, and gives me that piercing, unmistakable look only doctors can.

“Ryan, your tests show a fatty liver, dangerously high blood pressure, and you’re teetering on type 2 diabetes.

If you don’t quit your excessive drinking and poor eating habits now, your liver could fail.

You will be dependent on insulin. As it stands, I’ll need to monitor your blood pressure closely…

” She fixes her gaze on me, unwavering. “Ryan, you need to change your lifestyle immediately. I know you’re a rock star, but you cannot use that as an excuse.

You must consider your health. You are not invincible. ”

Sitting back in my chair, I exhale. “Okay, I hear you. Eat better, lose weight, cut down on my drinking. Anything else you want to take away from me?”

She leans forward, takes a deep breath, and changes her approach. “Have you given any more thought to seeing a professional counselor about your wife and daughter?”

Maddie’s tiny toddler face comes straight into my thoughts, and my whole body clenches. “I don’t need counseling,” I declare through gritted teeth.

Her eyes drop away, and she takes a deep breath. “Okay, Ryan. Let’s schedule a follow-up for next week and reassess then?”

“Sure…” I stand and turn, walking out of the consulting room without glancing back.

Hearing that my health is in serious trouble is bad enough, but the mention of Maddie and Katie puts me on edge. All I want to do is drink myself into oblivion like I have done so many times before. However, considering Dr. Shilts just told me I could die, I need to head home instead.

The drive is troubling as my mind shifts from one disaster to another, but the smell of sweet cinnamon rolls wafting through the air is comforting as I walk through the front door. My stomach rumbles, and I groan at the fact that I now know I should not be eating them. Goddammit!

Walking into the kitchen, Danger’s better half, Lunar, pulls a tray from the oven and places the rolls on the cutting board on the counter. “Cinnamon rolls just for you, Ry. I know how much you love them.”

My body slumps, and I sigh.

I can’t not have one.

She made them especially for me.

“Thanks, Lunar, I need cheering up.”

She pulls the oven mitts off her hands as she frowns. “What’s up, buttercup?”

I pick up a piping hot pastry and take a large bite, burning my tongue. She laughs while shaking her head.

With my mouth still half full of pastry, I reply, “Went to the doctor for the results of my checkup.” My words are muffled by the massive lump of food in my mouth.

She raises her eyebrow and places her hand on her hip, tilting her stance.

“And?” she asks just as Danger walks in.

He spots me, nods, and reaches for a cinnamon roll.

I sigh, taking another bite, fully aware that once I tell her, she’ll switch into mother hen mode and likely snatch the roll from my hand.

Hell, she might even try to pry the pieces from my mouth.

“She said I have a fatty liver, high blood pressure, and I’m a borderline diabetic.”

Danger and Lunar both widen their eyes, their mouths forming perfect Os.

Lunar races forward, yanking the treat from my hand, and slaps my chest hard. “You’re a borderline diabetic and eating this?” She points to it as if it’s poison. “Are you a damn idiot!”

“How the fuck? You’re not even that fat, dude?” Danger scoffs.

He’s not wrong. “Genetics. Pre-disposed to everything. So even though I’m not that overweight, my lifestyle is the contributing factor.”

Lunar shakes her head. “The alcohol and bad food?”

I dip my chin in response while Danger runs his fingers through his hair.

“Right… right! So we get you eating properly,” Danger states, his eyes filled with fierce determination. “First up… you’re on a diet. You eat what I eat. And second, you exercise with me.”

Slumping back against the counter, I wonder what it would be like to have a sculpted body like Danger, Matt, and Nate. We all know I’m the odd one out. Those guys are beefed up and good-looking—I know I’m not bad-looking, but my stomach lacks definition.

Maybe if I take some pride in myself, I’ll feel better. Who knows?

Maybe it’s time to work on me.

Maybe it’s time to stop drowning and start living again.

“Okay, Danger, put me on your fitness regime. I gotta be healthy again. I need to eat and live a lot better than I have been. I want to be a better me.”

“We can do this, Ry. We’re gonna get you a six-pack instead of you looking like a keg.”

I manage a smile with a quick shake of my head. “Get me fit before our next tour?”

“Exactly. We will start this afternoon when we get back from our meeting with Oliver.”

“Shit! I forgot all about that. Do we even know what it’s about?”

Lunar picks up the tray of rolls and moves to the trash.

“Lunar, no!” Danger calls out, but she empties the tray straight into the garbage can. “Why’d you do that?” Danger sulks.

She stands tall. “If Ryan’s on a health kick, we are too. To support him.”

Danger groans, and she glares at him. “Okay… fine! Support it is.”

I look at Lunar and tilt my head. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, fuck face.”

My smile grows before I turn back to Danger. “So this meeting with Oliver?”

“It’s in twenty minutes.” He shrugs. “We’d better get going. You coming, babe?”

“Yup.” She turns, grabs her purse from the counter, and says, “Let’s go.”

***

We pull up at the office block—our headquarters, where we rehearse and run our business—and make our way inside. Matt and Nate are already seated at the giant oval table when we walk in. I smirk at Nate as he eyes Danger and Lunar holding hands.

He’s still not over the fact she chose to come to America with us.

Nate was convinced she would ruin the band, but she’s actually the one holding us together.

It wouldn’t surprise me if Nate actually has a massive crush on Lunar.

He’s always watching her, thinking we don’t notice.

Maybe the others don’t, but I do. I see the glances and the deep, longing looks he sends her—it’s not healthy.

Poor guy, pining for a woman he can’t and will never have.

We take our seats around the table, waiting for the great man and our new boss to arrive.

To say we miss Luke is an understatement.

He was a fantastic agent slash manager, but his heart is in Australia, and he didn’t want to leave his family.

So he remained there to help our original opening band, Luminous, and recommended an agency and manager here in LA.

That led us to team up with Oliver Reade.

He’s a cool guy, a little reserved, but he gets the job done.

Oliver walks past the spotless glass windows looking out over the city and smiles as he strolls in, wearing a button-up shirt, a dress jacket, and slacks sans tie.

“Afternoon, guys.” Oliver takes his seat at the head of the table.

“We all know how successful your Australasian tour was with Luke at the helm, so it is time to replicate that over here in the American market. You’re already playing on the airwaves thanks to Ryan’s excellent public relations work, but we need more… ”

I take a breath. “Okay, I’ll see what other PR I can wrangle. I’m sure I can get us some press interviews and shit.”

Oliver inhales, rubbing his chin. “Ryan… you’re doing a great job, but if we really want to get this band into the big time, we need someone trained in PR.”

My eyes widen, and I stiffen. “Ahh… fuck no.”

“Ryan, I know you’ve done PR for Recoil since you start—”

“Exactly! So I’ll continue to keep doing it!”

“Ry, maybe we should listen to Oliver?” Nate queries, and it shocks me.

I find myself shaking my head, and I let out a small, sharp puff of air that flutters my hair. “What? Why?”

“Well, we never gained traction in the States before everything went to shit the first time. So clearly the PR wasn’t working… no offense.”

“You gotta be kidding me?” I groan.

“Okay, how’s this? How ’bout we trial a new PR person? If they’re no good, then Ryan takes back the reins?” Danger asks, looking straight at me.

“Fine, but I get to choose who it is,” I order, but Oliver stiffens, and I don’t like his reaction, “What?” I blurt out, wanting to know why the fuck he looks so tense right now.

“I’ve already hired someone.”

“Dude, really?” My voice rises an octave.

“They’re the best, coming from a long line of PR professionals. It’s in their blood, so they know the business inside and out. I’ve worked with Marks Enterprises before, and they’re fantastic. They’ve handled some amazing acts.”

Resigning myself to the fact I’m being replaced, I sink back into my seat. “Okay, so when do we get to meet the pompous asshole who will be taking us on?”

My attention is drawn to a leggy brunette in a dress suit.

Her hair is in a messy bun, and black-rimmed glasses frame her delicate face.

She reminds me of those movie characters who transform from nerdy to stunning by simply removing their glasses, letting down their hair, and leaving everyone in awe.

“I believe that pompous asshole would be me, Mr. Hunter. Pleased to meet you. Tillie Marks of Marks Enterprises and your new PR Manager.”

My cock twitches in my pants as my stomach drops.

Danger smirks at me—the dickhead—while I flare my nostrils in frustration at being overruled by a woman.

“Well, Tillie from Marks Enterprises… I will work with you to get the best results for my band,” I state matter-of-factly.