Fame (4 page)

Maisy shook the thoughts of Rook out of her head and nodded. “Yeah, just a little brain dead from all the work today, sorry.” Rook did that to her often when she was with Cole; he distracted her, even though he was nowhere near her.
 

“No need to apologize. Do you want me to talk to your producer, see if she’ll let you go early?”

“No,” Maisy shook her head. “I don’t want to look like I can’t handle the demand.” She looked down at her watch again and cringed. “Time for me to go. Thanks for the little break; it was much needed.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Cole said, as he got up off the bench and helped her up as well. “I’ll walk you back, and then I’ll get dinner cooking for both of us. You’re getting pampered when you get back to my place. I’ll send a car for you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, knowing that she had truly found someone who cared about her.
 

As they walked back to the studio, Maisy’s thoughts wandered back to Rook. The required writing she had to do for their new album was churning up all the feelings that she was trying to tamp down and forget about, but when she was writing, there was nothing she could do about the words of pain and sacrifice she had experienced only a few months prior. The pain made for great lyrics—that’s when she was actually able to form some sentences to write down—but it was fucking with her head because all the writing did was force her to rehash everything that happened to her on that dreadful, dreadful day.
 

**Landon**

“Don’t move,” Landon demanded, as he walked around Quinn and eyed her gorgeous body up and down. She had her hands tied together and strapped to a post of his bed, displaying her body perfectly for him.
 

She had gained quite a bit of weight since their tour ended, so now her breasts were full, her hips had a feminine curve to them, and her face no longer looked sunken in. She was the most beautiful Landon had ever seen her, and for once, she was all his.
 

She was kneeling on the bed with her hands tied to a pole and her head on the mattress of the bed. Her ass was stuck up in the air, just the way he liked it, and her breasts swayed back and forth as they hung heavily from her chest. Her nipples were hardened to beautiful little points that were begging for his touch, for his pinching pleasure.
 

Needing to feel her skin, he walked in front of her and was about to grab ahold of one of her nipples when his phone started ringing. Normally, he wouldn’t answer in the middle of being with Quinn, but the ringtone belonged to Cruz, and Landon was hoping for good news after his two week stint of searching for their lead singer.
 

Landon kneeled down so he looked Quinn in the eyes and said, “Relax, babe. I have to take this, it’s Cruz.”

Like the perfect girlfriend Quinn was, she nodded her head, because she knew Landon had been waiting for this phone call, and she rested herself on the bed.
 

Her breasts stood to attention as she waited for Landon, and for a split second, he thought about forgetting all about Cruz to take his girl, but he knew he had to talk to him. The band was holding on by a thread, and that thread was Landon and Cruz.
 

“Hey, man,” Landon said into the phone, as he sat next to Quinn on the bed. He placed his hand on her thigh and squeezed her tightly, letting her know he was nowhere near finished with her; he was just getting started.
 

“Hey,” Cruz said in a sullen voice, letting Landon know their conversation was not going to be a joyous one.
 

“Tell it to me straight,” Landon cut to the chase.
 

“I couldn’t find him anywhere. I don’t know, man. I’m starting to really grow concerned here. I don’t know where else to look.”

“You checked his old house?””

“Yeah, no one was there. I even let myself in. I thought that maybe I heard something move upstairs, but when I went up there, there was a giant fucking rat just winking at me from the top of the stairs. The mother fucker looked deranged; there was no way you could have paid me enough to go past the thing.”

“God, you’re such a pussy,” Landon said, while shaking his head. “What are we supposed to do? The label will only cut us so much slack before they pull the plug on the entire band. I can’t lose the band, Cruz.”

“I know,” Cruz agreed. “We can go on without him…”

“Without our lead singer and song writer? Yeah, that sounds like the perfect plan,” Landon replied sarcastically.

“I’m just tossing out suggestions, fuck, don’t get all pissed off at me.” Cruz paused for a second before he asked, “Have you talked to Grey at all?”

The mention of Landon’s brother had his whole body go stiff. He had not talked to Grey since they finished their tour. Landon had talked to his parents, who said Grey was working his feelings out, but Landon had yet to hear from Grey, and not from the lack of Landon trying.
 

The brothers had said some pretty nasty things to each other, but at the end of the day, they were brothers, and Landon wanted Grey to know that…even though Landon might be making love to Grey’s now ex-girlfriend.
 

Thanks to Landon’s mom, he was able to get a little insider information about Grey and his mood. Apparently, he came to the realization that even though he loved Quinn with all his heart, he wasn’t in love with her. He was hanging on to something that no longer existed. Their young love was what it was, young. Landon was hopeful after hearing that news from his mom, but after Grey continued to ignore him, Landon lost any hope in reconciling with his brother.
 

Yes, Landon fucked up by moving in on Quinn before talking to Grey, but having the past couple of months with Quinn was totally worth it. She was everything to Landon, absolutely fucking everything.
 

“No,” Landon replied to Cruz’s question. “He has yet to take my calls. I tried going to the house the other day, to talk to him in person, but the prick wouldn’t open his door. I’m trying. I don’t know if he will ever get over what happened. Have you talked to him?”

“No, he won’t take my calls either. I think he’s exiling everyone that had anything to do with Shattered Souls.”

Landon ran his hand over his face as he shook his head in frustration. “This whole situation is so fucked up. Never in a million years did I think this would happen to us. Yes, Rook was unpredictable most of the time, but we were able to contain him; we were able to wrangle him in whenever he went astray, but never did I think that our band would absolutely fall apart.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before sticking your dick in your brother’s girl. I know she’s good pussy, but come on, man, common sense.”

Tension rolled through Landon as he listened to the smart ass mouth of Cruz Romero. He said shit like that on purpose, just to goad him, and he wasn’t going to let it affect him like Cruz wanted.
 

The warm embrace of Quinn’s naked body pressed against Landon’s side as she tried to reassure him. He always made sure he tied her up loosely enough to get out if she wanted, since she was still new to being strapped in, but with more experience, came tighter knots, something he’d told her many times. Right now, he was glad she was less experienced, because he appreciated her arms wrapped around him.

He wanted to believe that everything was going to be okay with his band, but at the rate they were going, they were going to have no album and be a bunch of has-beens by next year. That realization literally scared the crap out of Landon, and not because he needed the fame, but because he needed the release of banging on his drums every night to hundreds of thousands of people. He craved being on stage, just like every other Shattered Soul, and to just stop, to drop that passion without a warning was a tough pill to swallow.
 

“I don’t want to start another band,” Landon admitted softly.
 

“Like the fuck I do?” Cruz said. “We just have to figure everything out. Why don’t we meet up sometime this week to go over our plan of action? We have to make it to the Grammys. This is the first time we’ve been nominated; we can’t ditch it because of some minor fuck-ups.”

Landon nodded his head. He remembered the day they were announced as being nominated for song and album of the year. It was one of the biggest honors of his life, but unfortunately, half of his band, who he wanted to celebrate with, wanted nothing to do with him.
 

“I know. Let’s meet Friday. I have to head by the studio earlier that morning; we can meet after.”

“Sounds good.” Cruz let out a heavy breath and said, “Do you think Rook’s father’s death pushed him over the edge? The man was a bastard; I would have thought Rook would be happy about it.”

The news about Rook’s father’s death shortly after he presented Rook with a visit while they were on tour was surprising, but the fact that he died from an overdose was not surprising by any means. The man received Rook’s little cash deposit and then spent it and consumed it all in one night. The fucker was found dead in Rook’s childhood home a couple of days later. Rook found out about his father’s death on the last day of their tour; he bolted after the closing curtain. That was the last time Shattered Souls was ever together.
 

“I would have thought he would be happy about it too. I just don’t know…”

“Fuck…I hate to sound like a cheese dick, but I’m fucking worried, Landon. That’s our boy. We’re all he has.”

“I know.” Landon pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ll figure it out.”

Cruz grunted into the phone and then hung up. Landon hung his head as he stared down at his phone; he felt so fucking lost.
 

“Cruz couldn’t find him?” Quinn asked in her sweet voice, as she sidled up next to Landon and pulled him closer.
 

“No.” Landon shook his head. “It’s come to the point where we are really starting to freak the fuck out.”

“Should you…” Quinn gulped and continued, “Maybe call the police about missing, unidentified bodies?”

Landon’s head shot up and looked at Quinn with utter horror lacing his face. “You can’t believe that.”

“I don’t want to,” Quinn gently caressed Landon’s face. “But we are at a point now where you’ve checked everything. He wouldn’t go far, would he?”

“We checked to see if he’s flown anywhere, and he hasn’t. That doesn’t mean he hasn’t driven anywhere. I just don’t know, babe. What worries me the most is that I know the destructive habit Rook has. In a matter of a week, he was confronted by his father, he lost Maisy, and then the one thing that made him lose Maisy, died. If only his dad had never come around, then everything would be fine…”

“Just believe that you will find him; you have to believe,” Quinn reminded Landon.
 

Pulling her in closer, Landon placed a kiss on her head and wished that a little belief would solve the problem, but he knew reality, and the reality of his situation right now was that his brother wasn’t speaking to him and his lead singer was missing and possibly dead.
 

Reality was one big bitch slap to the face.
 

**Grey**

“Honey, come help me with these boxes, please,” Grey’s mom called down from the attic.
 

Being ever the good son, he put his bass guitar down and went up the narrow steps of the attic to help his mom. She had been organizing the space all day, and he knew he was going to need to do some heavy lifting at some point. He just wished it wasn’t during a time where he was really starting to write a song, where the lyrics flowed freely, but he would never tell Mama Cross no; she was a lady you respected and did what she said.
 

When he got up to the attic, he was a little shocked by the organization his mom was able to do all by herself. There were bins lining the walls, labeled by a label maker and color coordinated. Landon’s things were in green, Grey’s were in blue, hers were in pink, and his dads were in red. Holiday decorations were in clear bins, and photos were kept in black ones. It was actually quite nice to look at. She kept a lot of mementos, but he never knew she kept so many things. The entire attic was full, but very well put together.
 

“Wow, Mom, you really outdid yourself. It looks great up here.”

Grey’s mom came up next to him and wrapped her arm around his waist while her chest puffed out with pride.
 

“I really did a great job, didn’t I?”

Laughing, Grey kissed his mom on the head and said, “You sure did, Mom. So, what do you need help with?”

She waved to a box that was to the side, and said, “That’s a mix of your and Landon’s things. Can you please go through them and see if you want anything? If not, it’s going to the Salvation Army for donation.”

“It probably could all go,” Grey answered, not bothering to look.
 

“Grey…” his mom warned, sending him straight to the box and taking a seat next to it. You didn’t mess with Mama Cross.
 

“I’m going to go get an iced tea. Would you like some?”

“Sure,” Grey said, while he started digging through the box of old guitar picks, baseballs, and CDs. They worshipped Blink 182 a little too much when they were younger; it was frightening.