Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
Calix
“Where the hell could he be?” Harvey, our lead guitarist asked, shaking his mohawked head.
The stupid ass landing strip was a mess of brassy bleach and faded blue spots because he hadn’t bothered to maintain it, but he refused to shave the thing off.
He insisted it made him edgy. I thought anything except his natural mousy brown would be considered edgy.
He had options that wouldn’t piss me off, for fuck’s sake.
I knew I was focusing on the wrong thing, but God knew where Tobias was. It wasn’t like he was my…okay, so he was my twin, but we hadn’t been able to do the twin psychic thing since we were kids. Drugs tended to fuck with the connection.
“He’ll be here. Try his cell again,” I growled, pacing to the door of the break room and back again, nerves making it impossible to settle.
What a shit-show of a day. Marisa had finally had enough of us and bailed, which put our tour in jeopardy, and Tobias was MIA.
Again. Add onto that the fact that Ruby Dearlove, lead singer of Red String Riot, had just put her head in and threatened to cut my dick off if I wasn’t nice—whatever that was about—and I was ready to say ‘fuck today’ and go hide in my writing room. I really didn’t need this shit.
“Incoming,” Otis muttered from his seat beside the door, his hands not missing a beat of the riff he was toying with on his bass.
A moment later, my ears picked up the telltale clip of James Whelan’s signature Lucchese boots.
A second, lighter set of footsteps beat double-time to our boss’s stride, and I wondered if he had the reception-bitch in tow.
I sent a quick glare at Harvey just in case, which he flat out ignored.
I knew he had fucked her and probably would again, but if he wasn’t more subtle about that shit, we’d get booted from the label.
There was a fraternization clause in our contract.
I’d checked. We were adults, and James was generally good about that stuff, as long as it didn’t become his problem.
Unfortunately, Harvey had a habit of making his shit everyone’s problem.
“My favorite boys. How are we today? Writing new tracks for the tour?” James asked with a broad smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. We were definitely in deep shit for Marisa.
Without waiting for an answer, he stepped aside to reveal a familiar face.
Hazel eyes bugged out as she spotted me standing across the room, and it took everything in me not to return the double bird she had given me earlier.
She was cute, in a girl-next-door kind of way, and I wondered if this was who Ruby wanted me to be nice to.
“I have someone here I’d like you to meet.”
What was the name I heard the woman on the phone call her?
I watched her closely, cataloging the way she shifted on her feet. Her left index finger was ripping at the thumbnail on the same hand. Her eyes darted around the room, acknowledging my bandmates as James introduced them, but they kept coming back to me.
“…And, of course, Calix you know.”
What now?
Her smile froze. What had been a politely shy expression turned into one of panic.
This was interesting.
Why had she lied about our acquaintance?
An appealing shade of red crept up her throat as the silence stretched out until James finally triggered to a disturbance in the force.
“Was I misinformed?” he asked, glancing back at…
“Good to see you again, Tater-tots. How’s your Ma?” I smirked as the red breached her jawline and colored her face all the way up to the hairline.
That’s right. I was listening.
“She’s fine,” the girl gritted out between her teeth, plastic smile still in place. I had a random thought that I might like to see her smile for real.
Weird.
“Where’s Tobias?” James asked, as though he’d only just noticed the absence of the thinner, more decorated version of me.
“Ah…”
“He ducked across town to pick up some new sticks he wanted to try out. He’s hoping they’ll bring a new sound to something we’ve been working on.
He’ll be back soon.” The lie slid from Otis’s mouth seamlessly, as though he had already prepared his answer ahead of time.
Hell, he probably had. Our resident peacemaker was better at putting out fires for us than Marisa had ever been.
James looked at us each in turn, pretending he had a fucking clue about any of us beyond what our sound could net him in the charts, then grunted.
“Whatever. When he gets back, let him know that you have a new manager. Now, play nice together. I’m not finding you another one.”
The door on my attraction to the interloper slammed shut as I realized she was next in line to play snitch for the record label.
At least this time I’d have a trump card.
James strode from the room, slamming the door in the girl’s face when she tried to follow with a cursory “We’ll sort the paperwork later” as placation.
I rummaged in my pocket and came out with a silver case.
Otis groaned as I pulled out a red card with I.O.U. spelled out in bold print on one side.
“Hey Tater-tots, you got a pen?” I asked, holding the card out to her.
Her gaze locked on mine as she reached blindly into her purse and retrieved what I asked for. I arched a brow at her, patiently holding the card out until she broke our stare down and accepted the thing.
“Don’t call me that. My name is Tatum.”
“Dude, no. Veto. Why are you getting those things out?” Otis protested, setting aside his bass to come and stand at her side.
In my peripherals, I could see Harvey watching everything play out.
His eyes swept over Tatum as though trying to devise a plan to get her alone and naked as quickly as humanly possible.
Hell, she had tits and a heartbeat, so that was exactly what he was thinking, no doubt about it.
No matter how many times we told him not to shit where we ate, he wouldn’t listen, and he invariably fucked things up for all of us when things went south.
Nothing we could do about the inevitability, but I could get my insurance secured first.
“Sign it,” I growled, lifting my chin at the card.
“No.”
Interesting.
She pulled her shoulders back, a muscle popping in her jaw as she gripped the pen tightly in her hand without making a move to use it. She wasn’t a particularly short woman, maybe five-seven, but compared to my six foot two, she seemed tiny.
“Sign it,” I repeated, stepping into her space. I’m in control.
The heat of her body crossed the short distance between us, and I firmly tamped down on the impulse to flinch away. I would win this first battle of wills. Then, and only then, would I back off and find the space I so badly wanted.
Her chin tipped up, lips set in an obstinate moue.
“How about we go and explain to James exactly how we know each other so well…or not, as the case may be. If you lied about me, what else have you lied about? I’d hate to think the integrity of the record comp—”
“Fine,” she gritted out, scribbling a signature on the back of the card and holding it up with a huff. “What makes you so sure I’ll play along, though?”
I allowed a dark smile to spread slowly across my face, my chest tightening with smug pleasure as her throat worked down a gulp.
“You will,” I said, my voice full of promise.
I was close enough to see the hazel almost completely swallowed up by her dilating pupils. My eyes dropped to her mouth in time to see the tip of her tongue flick out, wetting her puffy pink lips.
“Calix,” Otis warned, taking half a step closer, as though he could diffuse the situation by becoming a human barricade.
I broke the stare-down not because of Otis’s interference, but because I had shit to do.
She was a distraction I couldn’t afford right now, especially while Toby was still MIA.
Scooping up the keys to the shitty panel van we’d been sharing since Toby won it in a backroom poker game between sets in our early days playing in bars, I bee-lined for the door, already running through a mental list of places I might find my brother.
It was too early in the day for him to be in one of the clubs downtown, and he’d sworn to me he wouldn’t pick up a needle again, so injecting rooms were out.
I hoped. It didn’t mean he hadn’t picked up a pipe in someone’s basement and gotten himself in the shit.
I knew he hadn’t been arrested because I would have heard about it already, so that left…
“Where are you going?”
The voice had a surprisingly strong tone to it. She was also far closer than I was comfortable with. Side-stepping to establish some space between us, I continued toward the parking lot behind the studio.
“Out. Stay here, Harvey and Otis can look after you until I get back.”
Her feet clipped across the tiled floor as she, annoyingly, kept pace.
“Forget it. I’m already down one band member; I’m not losing another in my first hour of managing you guys. Wherever you’re going, I’m coming too.”
“No.”
I pushed through the emergency exit and made no attempt to catch it for her as I continued toward the van.
The curse that came from behind me was something I’d expect from my mouth, not some rock manager wannabe who knew nothing about the real world.
I assumed. She seemed to have a relationship with her mom, which was something Toby and I had never had.
“You can’t stop me,” she puffed, catching me again as I unlocked the driver’s side of the van.
“Wait.” She grabbed my arm as I turned to get in.
The gesture was so sudden and unexpected that I couldn’t hide my reaction. Ripping away from her grasp, I jerked back into the hinge of the car door, only barely suppressing the urge to lash out.
She threw her hands up, all I’m unarmed, and took a large step back.
“I’m sorry. Look, I just…I need you to understand.
I know I’m an outsider—trust me, I’ve heard Ruby’s rants about introducing new people into a band dynamic—but I’m here to help.
I really need this job, and if I’m honest, I’m hella hungover right now, and a nice quiet ride in the car sounds like about as much socializing as I’m capable of.
Just…trust that I’m not here to fuck you. ”
I raised a brow at her choice of words, but to her credit, she just shrugged and rounded the van to claim the front passenger seat.
Twenty minutes later, we were crossing an unassuming intersection into a part of town I wished I didn’t know so well.
On the surface, it looked like a suburban paradise.
Cookie-cutter display homes with white picket fences, nothing more than a white-collar facade for the bullshit that went on behind closed doors.
Three intersections later, I took a left, then a sharp right into the driveway of my least favorite person in the world, and that was certainly saying something.
The bored trust fund baby was a crutch my brother returned to again and again when life felt too real.
I knew it was stupid to blame him. Toby was an adult and capable of making his own choices, but the easy access to anything mind-altering you could think of made him my brother’s best friend and my personal nightmare.
Taking a slow breath, I counted a ten second exhale, then did it again for good luck before I switched off the ignition and turned to the woman riding shotgun.
True to her word, the second I left the parking lot at the studio, she had put her head back and closed her eyes.
They were open now, though, and trained right on me.
“Stay here. I won’t be long.”
I slipped out of the cab and rounded the van, taking a moment to psych myself up before I left the shelter of the vehicle.
The slam of a car door had me cursing furiously under my breath even before I felt the heat of her body close behind me. The girl had no respect for personal space. Taking a generous step away, I almost growled at her.
“I told you to wait in the car.”
She winced, sucking a sharp breath through her teeth.
“Ooh, sorry. I have trouble translating dumbass into English. It’s a real problem. But since I’m here, let’s go.”
I grabbed her arm before she could step past me and ignored the look of surprise on her face as her eyes darted to the point where I held her.
“Get back in the car,” I said, keeping my voice as low and even as possible.
This was none of her business, and I didn’t want her killed on her first day on the job. Anything could happen when you walked into a drug den, and that was what this Joanna Gaines-blessed piece of architecture was.
“Calix. Can I call you Cal?”
“No.”
“Cal, I saw that little timeout you took just then. Plus, this place gives me the heebs, and I’m practically psychic so you should listen when I say don’t go in there by yourself. I’m your manager. Let me manage you.”
Manage? Did she hear herself?
Rolling my eyes, I released her arm and stepped past her to knock on the door.
I didn’t have time for this shit. Toby could be in trouble.
Images of him passed out, blue in the lips and pale as fuck with a needle sticking out of his arm assaulted me as I waited for the approaching footsteps to hurry up and answer the fucking…
“Wait…that came out wrong.”
Thankfully, she shut her mouth quickly as the door swung open. I was moving before I’d made the conscious decision, slamming the floppy-haired asshole into the doorframe with a satisfying crunch. Bloodshot eyes widened as I got up in Franklin Mathers III’s stupid face.
“Tobias? What…oh. It’s you, Calix. What do you want?”
“Where’s my brother?”