I’m sorry it seemed like I took off in the middle of our tour. But I wouldn’t have been any good to the band.”
“Is Mallory…” He shrugs. “Is she all right?”
“She’ll be fine. I’m flying home tomorrow morning since we had the day off anyway. But I’ll meet up with you in Vegas and we’ll get back to normal after that.”
“Cool.” A devilish smile curls his lips. “Not like you want to party with us anymore, anyway.”
Shit. As soon as he says it, I flash back to what was going down when I took off. “About that, what happened? You were doing so well.”
“Christ, Chaser. You come back to lecture me? I’m fine.”
We need to be on stage in about five seconds, so we’ll have to argue about this another time. “No lecture, bro. Just worried about you.”
“Worry about the show.” He flashes a crooked grin. “You don’t want us to replace you with Nick permanently, do you?”
“Fuck off.”
He chuckles and strolls away.
Maybe I’m tired or still numb from everything, but an air of indifference clings to me all night. My own playing lacks any “flair” as Alvin put it.
Afterward, Jacob’s twitchy and eager to leave the arena. I climb onto the tour bus weary and ready to crawl into my bunk and pass out.
A short time later, the bus rolls to a stop. I pull back the curtain. “Why are we stopped?”
Robbie shrugs at me helplessly. “Jacob said he needed something.”
“Jesus Christ.” I slam my fist against the bottom of Alvin’s bunk.
“What?” he groans.
“Get up.”
I throw on some clothes and toss Garrett’s curtain open. Empty. “Motherfuck.”
Alvin and I peer out the window at the seedy gas station. Place doesn’t look like it’s been open for business in years. “Why here?” I ask Robbie.
“I don’t know. He gave me the address earlier.”
“Fuck.” I grab my small flashlight.
Alvin and I step off the bus and stare at the building until our eyes adjust to the darkness.
“Too fucking creepy to be a whorehouse,” Alvin quips.
“Yeah, but perfect for a shooting gallery.”
“Ah, fuck. He hasn’t touched smack in months.”
We walk over the cracked blacktop, glancing at the half-assed cars thrown into random spots. An orange glow lights up the inside of one car and I stop to check if Jacob or Garrett are inside.
“Get the fuck out of here.” A scraggly blonde girl rolls up the car window. A puff of burning chemical stench hangs in the air.
“Shit.” Alvin grabs my arm, tugging me away from the car and toward the building. “People going in the side door.”
Place must’ve operated as a garage at some point. Inside, people are spread out over the broken concrete floor, stained and sticky with motor oil and years of accumulated filth.
Jacob’s off to the side, sitting cross-legged on a pile of raggedy blankets with Garrett pacing behind him.
Ignoring the scene around us, I march over to Jacob and kick his booted foot. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Piss off,” Jacob says in a weak imitation of Garrett’s accent. He giggles and stares up at Garrett. “How’d I do?”
“Shitty, come on. Let’s go, fucker.” Garrett grips Jacob’s arms and attempts to lift him.
“No way,” Jacob argues.
I shoot a glare at Garrett. “Why are we here?”
He gives me a helpless shrug. “I don’t know. He was gettin’ off the bus one way or another.” He glances around the space. “I didn’t want him going alone.”
“Fuck. Okay.” I scrub my hands over my face. “You should’ve woken me up.”
“Number two. On the Hot 100.” Jacob thrusts two fingers near my face. “And we never properly celebrated.”
“Seriously?” Alvin kicks Jacob’s other foot. “We had a party thrown for us. How much more do you need?”
“Jacob, come on, let’s go.” The vibes in this place are beyond bad. I’m convinced that if I can get him back on the bus, he’ll be fine. Everything will be okay. We can forget this happened.
“Fuck that. I’m not going anywhere.” He puts a pipe to his lips and inhales with suicidal urgency.
“When did this start?” I ask Garrett.
“Don’t know. The Iron Kiss guys brought some to our room one night. He’s been on about it ever since.”
“That’s great.” So much for all the assurances Thom gave us.
“They know how to party.” Jacob raises one fist in the air.
I glance around the filthy old garage. “Yeah, some party.”
His high must be fading. He looks at our surroundings and holds out his hand for Garrett to pull him up off the floor.