Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
According to Eli’s text, the trailer is supposed to arrive around three.
I nod in the direction of Mara’s scowl on the way in, then stop and approach her at the desk when a thought rolls in.
“Need help with that?” she asks, eyeing my box of breakfast.
“No thanks, but I could use your help with something else.”
She raises a brow with an expression bordering on impatience, and the idea cements in my head.
How do you turn enemies into friends? Make them co-conspirators.
I adopt the most clandestine spy-movie vibe I can muster and lean close. “It’s kind of confidential. Is there somewhere we could talk?”
As hoped, her impatient look quickly becomes intrigued.
“Of course, Mr. Barrett. We can go to my office.”
She has an office?
I manage a straight face as my newly recruited undercover agent adopts a somber, stealthy gait while leading me down an adjoining corridor to a locked “Employees Only” door .
After sneaking through, we weave through a maze of cubicles and offices, drawing plenty of curious looks. I can’t tell if it’s because drummer Casey Barrett of Night Shifts Black is invading their space or if it’s because he’s holding a giant box that says “Tildale Farms Tomatoes.”
When we reach a dark office on the left, she unlocks the door and motions inside. She even checks for witnesses. For the record, there are plenty because… giant room of cubicles.
“How can I help you, Mr. Barrett?” she asks, once we’re safely out of view.
Her tone has softened significantly since my first encounter with her the day I showed up to visit Luke.
“Well, as you may know, Night Shifts Black has been on a short let’s say… ‘writing hiatus.’”
She nods gravely, forehead creased to tell me she does know and is super concerned about it.
“This is top secret, okay?”
“Of course! Our guests’ privacy is our highest priority.”
“I know it is. I trust you.”
She beams, and I pivot toward her as much as my tomato box will allow.
“The good news is, we finally have new material we’re working on.”
Her eyes go wide.
“The bad news is, we have a trailer with our gear coming today and nowhere to rehearse. The studio can’t take us until Friday, and we have lots of work to do before then. I was hoping…”
My voice fades to leave room for her to save the day.
She clasps her hands with a thoughtful look. “Let me think… Our banquet rooms are all booked, but you wouldn’t have much privacy there anyway. Oh! Would you be willing to use a space in the service portion of the hotel? ”
“The service portion sounds private. Is it?”
“Extremely!”
“And it’s big enough to host a rock band and their equipment?”
“Absolutely! I can have my team start clearing it right away. When will you need it?”
“Around three this afternoon. Is there a back loading dock our trailer can sneak into?”
“Of course! I will arrange that as well. In fact, here.” She plucks a business card from a holder and hands it to me. “My cell is on there if you think of anything else you need.”
“Perfect.” I shift the weight of the box to take the card and stuff it in my pocket.
“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Barrett. We’re honored you’ve chosen our establishment to work on your music.”
Well, Luke did.
“We appreciate your help. And please, call me Casey.”
A smile peeks through her stern facade. “Whatever you prefer… Casey. ”
She looks a second away from patting me on the cheek like I’m her favorite nephew.
Might’ve swung the pendulum a tad too far.
“Great, well, if you don’t mind, I should get this food to my hungry bandmates.”
“Of course! And your secret is safe with me.”
Successfully converted, Mara leads me out of the office, locks the door, and marches us back through the maze of cubicles with all the confidence of a woman on a mission.
If music doesn’t work out for me, it’s good to know espionage might be an option.
My surprise breakfast and update about the rehearsal space has everyone’s anticipation and mood up, but the rest of the day drags from there.
By the time Mara calls Luke’s suite to inform us the secret room is ready, I feel like a kid whose birthday party just got postponed by two hours due to rain.
Callie thinks it’s hilarious, but she’d feel the same if she heard the song brewing in my head.
They haven’t even experienced a fraction of what “Greetings from the Inside” will be when it’s transformed from vision to reality.
If she was impressed by what she heard after a few hours of production on a laptop, wait until she hears what four elite musicians do with it.
“Not bad,” Sweeny says with an approving look as we scan the cleared storage room. I don’t know what they keep in here, but it must be massive.
“We could get some nets and play a pickup game when we’re finished,” Eli jokes.
Mara’s forehead scrunches in the first hint of concern since she introduced us to the space.
“He’s not serious,” I assure her.
At least I don’t think so? Hard to tell with him.
His noncommittal shrug does nothing to clarify the situation.
Her severe stare brightens when she turns to Luke. “Let us know what you need, if there’s anything else we can get for you.”
Luke passes another evaluating scan over the space, and my heart does a small hiccup at how seamlessly he’s slipped back into the role of band leader.
“This is great, Mara. Probably just a small table and some chairs, I guess. Maybe a few bottles of water?”
She returns an emphatic nod. “Absolutely, Mr. Craven. I’ll take care of that right away. ”
But she makes no move to take care of that. In fact, she seems stuck in awe as she absorbs the sight of Luke and friends in her storage room.
He has that effect on most people. Good thing he’s also a pro at mitigating his unintentional star power.
“Thanks, Mara. We appreciate it,” he says with subtle encouragement toward the exit.
Her smile as she leaves makes it clear he could ask for a helicopter to the moon and she wouldn’t rest until she could hand him the keys.
“I think she’s starting to warm up to me,” Callie says with a smirk once we’re alone. Guess they have a history as well. “At the very least, accepting the fact that I will continue to exist.”
Luke chuckles in that easy manner he has with Callie. “You’re too hard on her. Do you have any idea how many people she has to thwart on a daily basis?”
Fair. Pretty sure every person in this room except Luke was one of those people.
“Fine. Good point,” Callie sighs out. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll go wait for your chairs and water while you work.”
I barely contain a grunt of frustration as she turns to leave. How can she still not get it?
“Not a chance,” I snap, taking her arm. She turns on me in surprise, and I cringe at the unintentional bite in my tone. I force a more patient approach. “You’re not our road manager, Callie. It’s not going to be like that, got it? We pay people to get us water and chairs. Not you.”
She winces, and I feel like an ass, but I don’t know how else to say it.
“I know, I just…”
I slide my hand down her arm to squeeze her fingers before letting go. “You like to take care of people, and I love you for it, but we need you here, okay? This is as much your song as ours. ”
Her wide eyes lock on me, and the words echo through my head.
I love you for it.
Shit. Is that why she’s stunned?
But when her gaze crosses to Luke, I breathe a sigh of relief. As usual, she’s just in shock we want her in our world. I’m going to have to buy a damn billboard to get the message across.
“He’s got a point,” Luke says. “Besides, our security team needs to stay with us. Things could get dicey.”
Her soft laugh flows over me like a warm breeze. “Okay, okay. But I’m going to be the best darn bootleg-recording-thwarter you’ve ever seen.”
Bootleg-recording-thwarter? I shake my head with a grin.
Holding out my hand, I give her the sternest negotiator expression I can generate. “Deal. But only if you promise to work on more songs while you’re waiting to thwart.”
She takes my hand, her gaze locking on mine with a glint of mischief. “Deal. But only if you promise to make-out with me on your breaks.”
I almost choke as the guys burst out laughing. A lifetime wouldn’t be enough to sort out the surprises in this woman.
“I knew there was no way you could handle her,” Sweeny snorts, slapping me on the shoulder. “Called that.”
He did. He’s also an ass. Good thing for him he’s one of the best guitarists I know.
Eli and Sweeny leave the hotel on a mission “to make new friends” while the rest of us wait for the trailer to arrive.
Callie wants to “freshen up” back in the suite, which leaves Luke and me alone in the empty concrete storage space.
The previous echo of activity that burst with excitement and life suddenly feels cavernous .
We study the floor and walls in silence, neither of us sure about what comes next.
“Kind of feels like we’re back in the basement, huh?” he says finally.
A weak smile flickers on his lips, triggering one in me. “Yeah. Guess we’ve gone full circle. All we need is your aunt’s stack of holiday decorations and expired canned goods. Do you think she’ll show up with popsicles and fruit punch?”
I wince at my slip, but he doesn’t withdraw into a shell like I expect at the reference to his aunt. He almost seems amused. I’m positive this topic would have sent him fleeing to his room just a few weeks ago.
“She definitely won’t,” he says dryly. “I doubt I’ll ever hear from her again. I’m officially an orphan.”
“You already were an orphan. This makes you a… double orphan?”
He smirks at the floor and shakes his head. “Maybe.”
His gaze takes that glassy far-off look he gets when he loses himself in his head. I know that place well. Not only the recesses of my own mental abyss, but his. We’ve shared more history than blood brothers. Probably more pain and heartache too.
With his hands shoved in the pockets of his sweatpants and dark hair hanging in his eyes, it’s easy to see remnants of the seventeen-year-old boy who’d been my rock and my hero since the moment we met.
No one messed with me at school after Luke came into the picture.
Almost overnight, I transformed from bullied band nerd to enigmatic sidekick.
Even my father backed off to some extent when Luke was around.
His hypnotic aura that captivates the masses isn’t new. It’s not the result of celebrity, but what led to it. People naturally fear him and want to be around him at the same time. He’s larger-than-life. The kind of person who never quite fits in the moment because he’s too much for this world .
He was a quiet supernova, and for most of my life, my star orbited his. When I lost him, I lost more than a good friend. I lost my point of reference. A year later, I still hadn’t found my way.
“You may be an orphan, but you have a family,” I say, breaking the long silence.
His eyes dart to mine, and I shrug. “A big one. More than that.”
With a deep breath, I turn to him. We can’t dance around the truth anymore.
“I don’t think you understand the colossal void you left in my life when you disappeared,” I say as old frustration returns.
“I know your lying brain has been telling you we’d be better off without you, but I’m telling you that’s bullshit.
This past year has been hell, and not just because of the external crap I had to deal with.
Trying to do life with a huge chunk of your heart and soul missing?
That’s the real pain. That’s the part that was breaking me. ”
He winces, but I can’t stop. I won’t. He needs to hear this as much as I need to say it.
“So call it selfish, but I’m not letting you give up again. I’m not doing this without you anymore, and I’m sure as hell not letting your brain take you away from me.”
I search his face, silently begging him to listen. “You’re not a hurricane, Luke. You’re my rock—my fucking anchor —and I’ll do whatever it takes to bring you back.”
His eyes scan mine, before he directs a pensive frown at the floor again.
He may not like hearing any of that, but I’m not messing around this time. Therapy, medication, whatever he needs to get out of this abyss—we’re going to find it. Because he’s too important to give up. He’s barely begun touching the lives he’s here to impact .
After a long, painful silence, his voice cracks the tension in the air.
“Do you truly believe people can change?” he asks quietly.
Haunted blue-green eyes lift to mine. Searching. Pleading.
Sparks of love and hope surge through my chest.
“Yes. One hundred percent,” I say with a firm nod. “Not only can we. We have to, Luke. We fucking have to .”