Wheels of Fire - Autumn Jones Lake Page 0,5

excitement stays on lockdown until he opens the cell door. Not until he motions me into the corridor without the handcuffs does a ray of hope perk up my spirits.

“Charges were dropped,” the officer informs me.

“What happened?”

He shrugs.

I’m led to a small, boxy room with no windows. A less friendly officer shoves a stack of papers at me to sign. Then tosses my wallet, lucky guitar pick, and a few sticks of gum at me. My lawyer shows up as I’m finishing. Nothing like an attorney eager to earn his whole retainer.

“What happened?” I ask since the cops won’t tell me a damn thing other than I’m “free to go”.

“Your friend woke up. Gave the detectives an earful and demanded your release. Your girl made sure I knew about it right away.”

“Where is she?”

“Outside waiting for you.”

That’s all I need to hear. I collect the rest of my stuff and head out the door with my attorney following.

The thick afternoon heat blasts my skin, a welcome relief after the cold, dark jail. Blinded by the sun, I hear Mallory rushing toward me before I actually make out her features.

“Oh my God.” She buries her head against my chest and wraps her arms around me. “I’ve been so worried…”

“I’m okay.” Fuck, it feels good to have her in my arms again.

“Chaser Adams! Did you shoot Andrew Lane?” someone shouts, breaking up our reunion.

Mallory clings tighter to me and I use my body to shield her from the intruder. Except, when I look up, there’s more than one reporter descending on us.

“Did you fight over Mallory?” someone else shouts.

“No,” I growl.

“All charges have been dropped!” my lawyer shouts back. “Mr. Adams has been exonerated by Andrew Lane himself. That’s all we have to say on the matter.” He drapes his arm over our shoulders and steers us toward a tan Volvo parked at the curb.

He opens the back door for Mallory before gesturing for me to get in the front seat. I’m so eager to get out of here, I don’t question where we’re going.

“Your father’s taken care of my fees,” he assures me as he gets behind the steering wheel. “Actually, I’ll have to refund him a portion of the retainer.” He stares at the police station. “You got lucky, son.”

“Not feeling lucky at the moment, but thank you, sir.”

“Counselor is part of my job description, you know.”

My body tenses. After the night I’ve had, I’m really not in the mood for a lecture, no matter how well-intentioned it might be.

“Fire Peter Carson,” he says. “He’s as disloyal and incompetent as they come.”

Can’t argue with that. “Done.”

“Distance yourself from Jacob.” The older man glances over at me. “Everyone says you’re talented. Have a promising career ahead of you. Beware of the ones who will drag you down.”

I’m too stunned to be annoyed at him for the advice. It’s nothing my subconscious hasn’t been whispering at me for months. Abandoning the band I’ve spent so many years helping build doesn’t seem right. But the lawyer has a point. I’m perfectly capable of getting myself into plenty of trouble. I don’t need my bandmates to keep doing it for me. I’ve tried everything to help Jacob. But you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to help themselves. I’m stuck between loyalty to my friends and self-preservation.

“The band is…we’ve been friends for a long time.”

“I understand that. Your loyalty is admirable but is it returned?”

Good question.

If I’m honest with myself, I already know the answer.

The car pulls up in front of the hospital and Paxton curses. “Fucking reporters.”

“They weren’t here earlier,” Mallory says. “Or if they were, I didn’t see them.”

“Word probably spread that Andrew’s awake.” Paxton gestures to a road that curves around the side of the building. “There’s a back entrance but you’ll have to use the service elevator.”

“Do you remember where Andrew’s room is?” I ask Mallory.

“I think so.”

So much for the back entrance. The tight line of shrubbery shakes and wiggles as the car comes to stop. As I study the dancing bushes, a reporter jumps out, camera in hand.

“No comment, Chaser,” Paxton reminds me. “Don’t give them anything.”

“I won’t.”

“Call me if you need anything. Even if the tour continues and you’re in another state, call me. If I can’t help, I’ll find someone who can.”

I lean over to shake his hand. “Thank you. Appreciate everything you’ve done on such short notice.”

“Take care of yourself.” He tips his head. “Mallory’s quite a woman. Be good to her.”

One corner of my

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