Strung Tight (The Road To Rocktoberfest #1) - Ann Lister Page 0,74

dedication to make sure everything was perfect. They’d all stayed late last night loading and securing the gear inside the trailers, and a final inventory was taken and double-checked. I wasn’t sure any of them had slept yet and wondered how late Dallas had worked with them. Dagger had told me this was standard procedure road crews went through before heading out to a show, and that the process was even more involved when preparing for a tour. I couldn’t even imagine that.

It’d been impressive to watch as they’d worked like dogs to get everything loaded into the trucks and ready to move to the venue. Since our set at Rocktoberfest was brief, Skully had designed an easy stage setup that was assembled inside our rehearsal area and allowed the band to play a practice set on. Still, I was excited to see it up on the enormous stage that was waiting for us in Nevada.

It seemed everyone was accounted for this morning except one person.

Dallas.

The roadies were beginning to hop into their designated travel vehicles to head out first before the buses rolled, and Dallas was still a no-show. I rushed around asking if anyone had seen him, and everyone said no. I finally found Skully just as he was getting into a van with a few other guys in the crew and stopped him.

“Have you seen Dallas?” I frantically asked him.

“I figured you would have been the first person he called,” Skully grumbled.

“He was supposed to be here this morning at five,” I said.

“Well, his plans changed,” Skully nearly grunted out the words. “I’ve tried to help out that kid by giving him a decent job with good pay, and he tossed it all away, so he’s on his own now.”

“Did something happen?” I asked.

“I’ll let him tell you all about it,” Skully said with sarcasm and hopped up into the driver’s side of the van.

“Skully, tell me what happened!” I demanded.

“Fletch, he’s not worth your time—especially for someone like you who’s going places.” Skully shook his head. “I’ll see you at the show.”

“How can you say that? He’s your son,” I protested.

“You’re right, he’s my son, and that’s exactly why he’s getting a dose of reality,” he said. “It’s the only way that boy is going to learn.”

I stood there in shock as Skully and the entire road crew began to pull out of the parking lot with the vans and trailers following in a long train of vehicles.

“Fletcher! Get your ass over here,” Dagger instructed from the stairs of our bus.

“We can’t leave yet,” I shouted as I ran toward him. “Dallas isn’t here!”

Dagger exhaled loudly in frustration. “You know how this works,” Dagger informed me. “We all had a deadline in order to depart on time. We have a ten-hour ride ahead of us. We can’t sit here and wait for someone who might not show up at all.”

“I get that, I do, but this is Dallas we’re talking about,” I defended. “I really want him to be at the show.”

“And he might very well show up, but unless he gets his ass here within the next five minutes, he won’t be riding with us,” Dagger explained. “He’ll have to find his own way to the event.”

“Shit!” I yelled and grabbed my head. I spun around and scanned every corner of the enormous paved lot and saw no movement, just the dust created by all the rigs leaving that was now settling back into place. I couldn’t believe this was happening as I reached for my phone in my pocket to text Dallas.

Me: Where are you?

After no response, I called his number, but it went straight to voicemail. I went over the conversation I’d had with Skully. He obviously knew what was going on, and he seemed pissed. That told me Dallas wasn’t hurt, or he would have expressed a different emotion other than anger. I was missing something, but I didn’t know what.

“What’s going on?” Mike asked as I climbed the stairs of the bus.

“Dallas didn’t show up this morning to leave with us,” I said and felt the color drain from my face. The reality of him not being here was beginning to weigh down on my shoulders, and Mike must have noticed it. He pulled me aside at the top of the stairs with a grip on my biceps.

“Listen to me, you can do this show without Dallas there,” Mike affirmed. “You know the music frontwards and backwards and inside out. You