A Song For Us (Fallen Tuesday Book Two) (A Brothers of Rock Novel)

BOOK: A Song For Us (Fallen Tuesday Book Two) (A Brothers of Rock Novel)
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Welcome back to
the world of Brothers of Rock!

 

A series built on
love, life, and rock n’ roll romance!

 

The bestselling
series continues with rock band,
Fallen Tuesday
!

 

Meet the band!

 

Luke (lead singer)

Gray (guitar /
piano)

Trent (bass)

Jake (guitar)

Mack (drums)

_____________

 

Brothers of Rock
 Books
1 – 5 follow rock band 
Chasing Cross

 

 

Don’t miss a single
book in the 
Brothers of Rock
 series!

 

All Access
 
(Chasing
Cross – Book One)
 – Johnnie, lead singer

Broken Sound
 
(Chasing
Cross – Book Two) 
– Davey, guitarist

Bitter Farewell
 
(Chasing
Cross – Book Three)
 – Danny, guitarist

Buried Notes
 
(Chasing
Cross – Book Four)
 – Chris, bassist

Last Song
 
(Chasing
Cross – Book Five)
 – Rick, drummer

Also in 2014, a brand
new contemporary romance series set in the small town of
Ferry Creek
.

 

A series built on
love, hope, and redemption…

 

A CHANCE AT LOVE

A PLACE TO HEAL

 

*

 

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official 
Karolyn James
 newsletter and you’ll never miss a new
release!

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Stay social with Karolyn
James here...

 

www.KarolynJames.wordpress.com

On Twitter @KarolynWrites

https://www.facebook.com/KarolynJamesAuthor

 

NOW
... 
are
you ready for some…

 

BROTHERS OF ROCK!

A
Song For
Us
(Fallen Tuesday Book
Two
) (A Brothers of Rock Novel)

 

The Brothers of
Rock series continues with Fallen Tuesday!

 

*

 

Being on the road
with Chasing Cross and then on their own headlining tour,
Fallen Tuesday had seen all the struggles that come with the
rockstar lifestyle.  But when Gray Reish discovers that his
non-rockstar brother, Peter's, stint at rehab wasn't enough, he
is forced to abandon his band to try to save his family.

 

Carina Lewitt
only landed in Liering, Massachusetts to care for her ailing
grandmother. The plan was to leave once she passed away. She has no idea
where she wants to go, but when her apartment is broken into and her
savings is stolen, it no longer matters.  She's trapped... That
is until she meets a stranger who seems out of place in her apartment building.

 

Will Carina's
fears keep her from opening up to the one person that she can relate to,
or will Gray find a way to convince her that her gift is one worth sharing
with the world?

 

(1)

 

Gary ‘Gray’ Reish believed either you
were alive or you were dead. What he had never realized was that a place existed
in between; a place where his little brother Pete now was as he remained in a
coma.

Gray stood outside the hospital
room. With his hands in his pockets, he stared at a watercolor painting on the
wall of a street band. There was a guitar player, two trumpet players, and a
man playing an upright bass. In Gray’s mind he could hear the music. It sounded
a lot like Fallen Tuesday, which made him laugh, because he knew that the
figures in the painting probably weren’t fans of the band. Hell, the painting
had probably been on the wall a lot longer then Fallen Tuesday was famous.

It had all happened so fast. Not
for a second did Gray regret it, nor would he ever, but the reality of Pete in
a hospital bed from a drug overdose tore him up. He had worked hard the past
couple years to help his little brother, because he felt like he abandoned Pete
when he may have needed him most. The hardest part for Gray was that Pete had
just finished a stint in rehab. He’d sworn he would remain clean. Gray checked
up on him as much as he could in between recording sessions and shows. He
called him from different cities across the country, hoping to be the support
his brother needed.

But it eventually fell apart. The
support system wasn’t strong enough to battle the demons within Pete. Rehab does
not kill those demons, but it was supposed to teach Pete how to cope with them.

Pain surged through Gray’s heart as
he imagined burying his little brother. The painting on the wall no longer
helped so Gray turned and walked down to the end of the hall. He looked out the
window at the small city before him. He had offered to move his mother and
brother, but his mother refused. Liering, Massachusetts wasn’t a bad place, but
it was too close to the city for Gray’s liking. However, Gray’s mother had her
own house and she already made it clear she would die in the house. She had
already uprooted her life once while battling her own demons.

Gray rubbed his face. He hadn’t
shaved in a few days. He’d been by Pete’s side, hoping he would open his eyes
soon. He wanted to see life in them. He wanted Pete to see him, to know he had
support. Then he wanted Pete to stand up and be healthy so he could punch him
in the head for being such an idiot.

The doctors weren’t sure if Pete
would wake up. Gray wasn’t sure what was harder to swallow; the idea that his
brother may not ever wake up, or the idea that if his brother did wake up, he
may be different.

Different.
That was the word
everyone used around Gray. Different had a lot of meanings. Different meant
Pete could wake up and have no use of a limb. It meant the possibility of brain
damage, perhaps short term, maybe long term. Pete could wake up and never
really be Pete again.

Turning from the window, Gray saw one
of Pete’s nurses walking down the hall. She was a middle aged woman and looked
tired as hell.

“Mr. Reish?” she asked.

“Please. Call me Gray.”

“Gray, that’s right,” the nurse nodded.

“How is he?” Gray asked.

“The same. The doctor will see him
in a little while. There’s nothing to do but wait.”

“I bet a lot of people do that
around here,” Gray said.

“The body is an amazing thing,” the
nurse said. “It can heal itself. It can hang on in ways we never thought.”

“Why?” Gray asked. “Why is
he
hanging on? For what? To wake up and do this again?”

Gray started to raise his voice. He
quickly wiped his mouth and closed his eyes. It was easy to confuse the details
of the situation and blame those trying to help. The doctors and nurses were
doing their jobs the best they could. They had nothing to do with what Pete
decided to do on his own, so it wasn’t their fault Pete hadn’t opened his eyes
yet. It wasn’t their fault Pete may never wake again.

“I’m sorry,” Gray said. “I didn’t
mean to come at you like that.”

“It’s okay,” the nurse said. “I’ve
had worse.” She smiled. She moved a piece of loose hair from her face to behind
her ears. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Gray looked at the closed hospital
room door. He shook his head. “Unless you have the answer to the why…”

The nurse touched Gray’s arm. “I
don’t think anyone does. Even your little brother. Life sometimes gets away
from us and slips through our hands.”

Gray looked at her again. “That’s
poetic. And sad.”

“I see so many people around here finding
their faith in the face of tragedy. If I may suggest something, Gray, why don’t
you get out of this hospital for a little bit? You’re one of the lucky ones
right now that can come and go. I’m stuck here for a long shift. Your brother
is right where he is.”

“What if he wakes up?” Gray asked.
“I don’t want him to think nobody is here to support him.”

“Like I said, it was a suggestion,
but you can get on that elevator and leave.”

“Are you telling me to leave?” Gray
asked and smiled.

“You know, I haven’t said anything
yet… but I’m a fan of your band. It’s pretty good stuff. My daughter likes you
more. I think she’s embarrassed that we like the same music.”

“Thank you,” Gray said. “I think
I’ll take your advice. Before I leave, can I get you a coffee?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” the nurse
said. “I promise you, Gray, if something happens, we’ll call you.”

“You know I’ll be back in a little
bit.”

The nurse put her hand to the door
handle and looked back. She nodded.

Gray watched the door shut with a
soft click. The silence that followed made Gray shiver. Every so often, silence
can be a blessing, but at times, it can be a nightmare.

(2)

 

Gray felt bizarre knocking on the
door to his mother’s house, but it felt weird to just opening the door to a house
he had no real history in. His mother purchased the house five or six years earlier,
needing a change from Pennsylvania and the tragedy that it harbored. Gray remembered
thinking that it was a terrible idea, but his mother actually thrived with the
change. Still, Pete was an entirely different story.

The door opened and Gray faced his
mother. Her tall frame looked frail and the wrinkles and heavy bags under her
eyes made her look ten years older. The stale stench of cigarette smoke
attacked Gray’s nostrils. His mother’s eyes were the same dark color as his, as
Pete’s. He really wanted to see Pete’s eyes again.

“Can I come in?” Gray asked.

His mother smiled. “Of course you
can. I don’t understand why you knock. This is your home too.”

Gray looked past his mother. This
was not his house. It never was and never would be. But Gray let those thoughts
slide. He walked inside and looked around. The place was in desperate need of a
good dusting and maybe a couple air fresheners. The living room to his left had
a coffee table cluttered with papers, magazines, and a half full ashtray. A
brown recliner offset the color of the faded blue couch. Some courtroom drama
show on television droned on in the background.

“I just put on some coffee,” Gray’s
mother, Alice, said. “Care for a cup?”

“I’m okay,” Gray said. “I’d like to
talk for a few minutes.”

She nodded. The coffeemaker in the
kitchen let out a growling hiss as its brewing cycle came to an end. Gray
followed her into the kitchen. He saw thick cobwebs in the corners of the
ceilings and cracks in the walls that were either the result of age or more
likely, serious damage that would soon turn into another mess for Gray to deal
with. Part of him wanted to start pointing all the flaws out, but he knew
better. His mother was the kind of woman that worked around problems. Maybe
that was why Pete never got better. Their mother always worked around it. If he
was high, she didn’t get angry with him. She helped him to bed and gave him
cold medicine and a wet washrag, as though that would cure the addiction.

In the kitchen, his mother scooped
up a mess of papers and bills from a small kitchen bistro table and carried
them to the counter. She spilled the papers from her hands, letting them fall
as they may. A few touched the edge of the sink, quickly absorbing water. She
then wiped the table with her hand and patted it.

“Have a seat,” she said.

Gray pulled the chair out and saw
dark stains on the tan cloth of the seat. He shook his head and wondered what
exactly he was about to sit in. He told himself it was a stain, nothing more.
Let it go. Sit down. Talk.

Gray watched his mother take an
empty coffee mug from the sink and rinse it out. She shook off the water and
then put it to the counter. She poured a cup of coffee and walked to the
fridge, which was covered in advertisement magnets. Everything from the local
pizza shop to an injury attorney grazed the front of the olive green fridge.
She poured some creamer into the coffee and then took a seat across from Gray.

“Mind if I smoke?” she asked.

“It’s your house, Mom,” Gray said.

She nodded. “I’ll wait. Damn things
will probably kill me someday.”

Gray wasn’t sure what to say. Yes,
maybe cigarettes would kill his mother someday. Maybe they wouldn’t. It wasn’t
his job to figure out her fate.

“I was at the hospital,” Gray said.

“I figured that much. I figured if
you’re in town you’re going to be there. You were always there for him, Gary.
Always.”

“That’s what a family does,” Gray
said. “But I don’t feel like I was there enough. All things considered.”

Alice shook her head and looked
away. Her eyes were glazed. “I tried to blame myself right after it happened
the first time. I stood by his side at the hospital as they did stuff to him. When
they stabilized him, he looked at me and the first thing he said was that he
finally wanted help. Real help. I thought that was going to be it.”

“That’s not how it works,” Gray
said. “It’s not a once and done rehab stay, Mom. It’s a lifetime of recovery.”

“You know this?”

“I’ve seen it,” Gray said. “Guys on
the road seem to fall to their demons easier than when they’re home. For some,
the road is their home and it’s when the road ends that they fall back on old
vices. Those who clean up, struggle.”

“I thought he was fine,” his mother
said. “I swear on it. I had the guest room all made up for him. I even hung a
picture of your band in there.”

Gray nodded. The way his mother
said
your band
gave the impression that she still considered Fallen
Tuesday to be some garage band that played little clubs for a couple bucks. What
Alice didn't know was that it was Gray who had bailed her out on last year’s
property taxes.

“Did he have a job?” Gray asked.

“He always had a job,” Alice said.
“It seemed every day was the start of a new job.”

“So he couldn’t hold a job.”

Alice nodded. “You know your
brother. He was more of a dreamer than a worker; always waiting for the right
thing to come along for him. Like you and your guitars and music.”

“I worked for what I wanted,” Gray snapped.
“Nothing came to me.”

His mother looked at him with an
eyebrow raised. “Well, then I guess your brother found what he wanted too.”

Silence fell again and Gray let out
a long sigh. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m frustrated.”

“We all are,” Alice said.

She finished her coffee and went
for a refill. Gray looked at his mother and then around the kitchen.
We all
are? Who is we?

The once white walls of the kitchen
were stained yellow. Gray knew as he looked around the house, judging
everything that he was trying to find a way to justify what Peter had done. Nonetheless,
there was no reason, no excuse, and no realistic way Gray could blame his
mother for what happened.

Alice sat back down with a fresh
mug of coffee. “Sure you don’t want some?”

“I’m good, thanks,” Gray said.

“Do you want to keep talking about
your brother?”

“Do you mind if I do?”

Alice shook her head. “I just hope
you don’t hate me, Gary.”

Gray swallowed. “Why would I hate
you?”

“I let him slip away, didn’t I?”

Gray slid his hand across the table
and touched his mother’s hand. His finger touched the diamond on her left hand
and he pulled his hand away.

“It’s not your fault,” Gray said.

“He had a job at a fancy
restaurant,” Alice said. “He was parking cars or washing dishes. Maybe both. He
worked hard. He looked handsome when he left the house though. He had a little
bow tie on and everything.”

Gray smiled at his mother. Alice
blinked, holding back tears.

He saw the pain in her eyes and he
realized that Peter wasn’t the only one suffering in all this mess.

“Tell me what happened,” Gray said.

Alice wiped her eyes and took a
deep breath. “He was there for a couple weeks. He never had a job that long.
One morning I woke up and he wasn’t here. I panicked and called him. He was
fine. He had spent the night at a friend’s apartment. When he came home I
grabbed him by the arm and checked for… you know, tracks. But there were none.
He was clean. He had just spent the night at a friend’s house.”

“He wasn’t drinking?”

“No. He didn’t smell like it. At
least that time.”

“He started after that?”

“He did,” Alice said. “Each night,
over and over, he kept staying at his friend’s apartment. He lost that job, and
that’s when it got really bad.”

Gray stared into his mother’s eyes,
seeing she was hiding something.

“Tell me,” Gray said.

“He got arrested at one point,”
Alice cried. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Okay,” Gray said. “I just want to
know so I can help him. That’s all. When he wakes up, what are we going to do?
Throw him in rehab and wait?”

“I don’t know what to do,” Alice
said. “Maybe he won’t wake up at all.”

“You don’t mean that,” Gray said.

Alice jumped up and threw her
coffee mug into the sink. The coffee splashed up and around the sink as the mug
shattered into white shards.

“Mom?” Gray called after her as she
stormed out the backdoor.

There was that silence again. That gut
wrenching silence. Gray stood from the table and started to pick up the pieces
of the coffee mug, gently placing them into the trash. He ran the water and
splashed it around the sink to clean up the coffee.

Gray walked through the ranch style
home to the hallway where the bedrooms were located. The first bedroom on the
left was the room where Peter had been staying. When Gray opened the door he
expected to find a mess of Peter’s life.

Instead, when Gray opened the door,
he was shocked.

The room was clean.

The walls were empty except for a
few random landscape pictures. There was no Fallen Tuesday picture like his
mother had said there was. The bed was tightly made with a cheap set of
blankets and pillows with pink and blue flowers on them. The room had a light
flowery smell to it.

Gray closed the door and went back
to the kitchen. The backdoor opened and his mother walked in with a cloud of
smoke and the bitter odor following her.

“I thought you said Peter was
staying with you,” Gray said.

Alice nodded. “Yeah. He was.”

“Was?”

“Let me get another coffee.”

Gray sighed. His mother was putting
up a wall. Gray would wait all afternoon and night if he had to. That way, when
Peter woke up, Gray would be able to talk to his brother. As much as he wanted
to be angry with Peter he knew he would need to approach Peter calmly.

But his mother…

With a shaky hand, Alice took
another mug from the cabinet. She poured another cup of coffee, creamer, and
then sat back at the table. This time Gray stood with his hands in his pockets.
He didn’t mean to look as intimidating as he probably did, but honestly, the
more he learned about his little brother, the more it hurt him and filled him
with guilt.

“After he lost his job, I got mad
at him,” Alice said. “I told him he wasn’t going to live here for free. I put
my foot down, Gary, and look what happened.”

“Too little, too late,” Gray said.
“No offense, Mom.”

Alice nodded. She sipped her
coffee. “I put my foot down. I told him to leave. I thought he would leave for
a night and then come back. He had nowhere to go. Or so I thought. He stayed at
that place he always went to. That apartment.”

“Peter had an apartment?”

“Yeah.”

“Roommate?”

Alice shook her head. “No. He
secretly had the apartment by himself. There was no roommate. Where he got
money to pay for the apartment and the utilities…”

Gray watched his mother tear up. It
started to bother him.

“It’s okay,” Gray said. “Don’t
think of it like that. Stick with the story.”

“There is no goddamn story, Gary,”
Alice shouted. “He had an apartment and he started using again. When he didn’t
come home for a week, I tried to check up on him. He looked like hell, okay?
Like hell. Then everything spiraled out of control.”

“That’s right around when I must
have talked to him and gave him a piece of my mind. I think I may have pushed
him over the edge.”

“No, you didn’t,” Alice said. “It’s
built into him.”

“I don’t believe that. He’s hurt.
He’s confused. He has his vice. Just like I do.”

“What is yours?”

“Music,” Gray said.

Alice waved a hand. “Music.”

Gray bit his tongue. There were
bigger things to focus on than his mother’s inability to understand exactly
what Gray did for a living.

“He still had this apartment when
it all happened?” Gray asked.

His mother looked at him with sad
eyes. “That’s where they found him. Almost dead. Any later and he…”

Gray took the coffee mug from his
mother. “Enough coffee. Your nerves are going to be shot.”

Alice stood up and opened the
cabinet next to the fridge. She pointed and looked back at Gray.

She was pointing at a bottle of
vodka.

“Really?” Gray asked.

“At night, it helps,” Alice said.
“Makes me feel just right.”

“Mom, don’t be stupid,” Gray said.
“I have enough on my mind.”

“Your mind,” Alice said and
scoffed. “Your mind.”

Gray touched his mother’s shoulder
and turned her around. He hugged her and kissed the top of her head.

“Be careful,” Gray whispered. “I
don’t want to lose all my family.”

Gray turned and walked toward the
front door before his mother could say anything else.

Once outside, he knew he had
somewhere else to go. He needed to see Peter’s apartment. He wanted more
answers.

 

*

 

Luke rubbed his neck and dropped
his pencil to the notebook and closed it. He looked around the small café and
wondered how long it would take for someone to recognize him and the rest of
Fallen Tuesday, minus Gray, of course.

Trent and Jake were talking guitars
and Mack sat with his hands folded behind his head, sunglasses on his face, looking
deep in thought and annoyed.

Luke kicked Mack’s legs. “What’s on
your mind?”

“Gray,” Mack said. “He shuts down.”

“He’s scared,” Luke said. “And too
afraid to admit it.”

“When are we going to see him?”

“Whenever you guys want,” Luke
said.

“Did he answer your call?”

Luke shook his head. “We’ll just
wait it out at the hospital.”

“Then let’s move,” Mack said. He
slapped the table and called the attention of the entire café.

BOOK: A Song For Us (Fallen Tuesday Book Two) (A Brothers of Rock Novel)
10.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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