groupies. Fans, roadies, venue security. “The mood’s a bit crazier since it’s the last night.”
He shifts and for the first time ever, my father seems uncertain or uncomfortable. “You’ve got a whole life that’s separate from the club.”
The serious change in tone wipes the grin off my face. “What are you saying?”
“I’ve never been prouder than I was tonight, watching you.” He shakes his head and seems to be having trouble finding the words he wants, so I stay quiet. “Really wish your mom could’ve seen you.”
Not expecting that to come out of his mouth, I’m a bit off-balance. “Not like she couldn’t find me if she gave a shit,” I answer, harsher than I meant.
Mallory tightens her arms around my waist and I hang onto her like she’s my damn life raft.
My father straightens up and adjusts his cut. “That’s true.” He glances out toward the stage. “Such a big crowd. It’s been so damn long. She could be here and I wouldn’t even recognize her.”
As if that thought hasn’t occurred to me every time I’ve stepped on a stage since I formed my first band. “I don’t think ‘Chaser Adams’ would mean much to her. Kickstart sure as fuck wouldn’t.”
“Maybe.” He scuffs the toe of his boot against the concrete floor a few times before glancing up at me again. “Fuck, son, I wasn’t trying to ruin your night. I just wanted you to know, I want you to pursue this for as long as it makes you happy.”
“Thank you.”
“I won’t lie. I thought you’d go out to la-la land, try this music thing out for a few months. Maybe a year. Then come home.” He holds up one hand. “Not because I don’t think you’ve got the talent. Because it’s a nasty, cutthroat business.”
“Yeah.”
“But watching you up there.” He shakes his head. “That joy on your face. That’s what I want for you.”
“What about—”
“Club’s not going anywhere. Music industry, all that entertainment shit, can change in an instant.” He snaps his fingers in front of his face. “Fickle business. Ride it out as long as you can. As long as it makes you happy.”
Emotions tighten my throat. “Thank you.”
The sentimental expression on his face transforms into something more familiar and casual. “You want to hire some of your Demon brothers to run security for your next tour, that might not be a bad idea either.” He grins at me, working to lift the heavy tone that settled over this conversation. “You got a network of clubs around the country you can pull from.”
“Really? You’d be okay with that?”
“Fuck yeah. Lot of your brothers could use the work and I don’t like how close some of those crazed fans want to get to you or Mallory.”
“It’s only gotten worse since Andrew’s shooting.”
His mouth twists at the mention of Andrew’s name.
I’m left wondering if his reaction is related to my brief stint in jail.
Or if something else happened while I was out on stage tonight.
Chapter Fifteen
Chaser
Damn, it feels good to be home. Clear-headed and coming off an amazing tour with the woman I want to spend my life with by my side. The five-hour drive seems to fly by with Mallory and I catching up on everything about the tour, her job, and our future plans.
At the house, we find a surprise in the driveway.
Mallory pulls up next to the truck parked in front of the garage. “Who is it?”
I recognize the battered, old truck. “Probably someone my dad sent over.”
Only, it’s not someone from the garage my father’s part owner of. It’s the man himself.
“What’s this?” I ask, gesturing to the bike being rolled off the back of the truck by two prospects.
“Santa’s sleigh. What the fuck’s it look like?”
“So happy to see you too, Dad.” I glance at the bike again. “Electra Glide, huh? Fancy.”
“Shut up.” He glances at Mallory and motions her over for a hug. “How’d you two do trapped in that cage all the way out here?”
“Fine.” She winks at my dad. “As long as he has control over the radio, he’s a good passenger.”
The two of them laugh it up and honestly, I’m loving their budding relationship so much, I don’t even care if they’re mocking me.
“So, you bought a new bike and came over to rub it in my nose?” I ask. “What are you doing, storing it here?”
He swivels his head between Mallory and me. “You believe this kid?” He jerks his thumb in my direction. “No, ingrate. It came into