Last Song (Chasing Cross Book Five) (A Brothers of Rock Novel) (rockstar contemporary romance) (3 page)

(3)

Johnnie knew only a few
things about Chase Mackenzie, the drummer for Fallen Tuesday. First, the band
called him Mack for short. Second, he had a motorcycle that he only seemed to
talk about riding during emotional times. Johnnie wasn’t sure what that meant,
but it caught his attention because of the way Mack looked and acted. He seemed
like the kind of guy that would jump on a motorcycle and disappear for a few
months. Finally, Johnnie knew Mack could play drums and become everything
drumming related.

Standing in the middle of
the arena, where in a few hours thousands of people would be cheering for both
Fallen Tuesday and Chasing Cross, Johnnie listened as Mack played drums during
a sound check. He played so fluidly, so honestly, as though drumming was going
to cure everything else wrong with his life. That was the part of the rock n’
roll that a lot of people didn’t understand. It wasn’t just about learning an
instrument or having talent. It was about understanding. It was about passion.
It was about doing it because it was the only thing that mattered in life.

Johnnie was thinking
about Rick more and more lately. Chasing Cross had been practicing the past few
days with Luke and he was a good drummer. Johnnie was actually in shock the
first time Luke sat behind the kit in Chris’s recording room. He was spot on with
every song they had him play. They were impressed, but Mack wasn’t. The second
they were done, Mack started to critique Luke, telling him all the small things
he missed. The best part was that Luke took it all in. He wanted to learn. It
made Luke an even better drummer. By the time that first audition was over,
Johnnie understood why Fallen Tuesday was becoming the huge band they were. The
days for Chasing Cross on top were starting to feel numbered, but as long as it
was a band like Fallen Tuesday to take over, Johnnie could sleep at night.

For the second practice,
Johnnie asked Luke how he got into drumming to begin with. The answer was
simple. Luke wanted to be a drummer, but his parents told him they were too
loud. So he bought a guitar instead. He learned how to play guitar and then
learned how to sing. For the actual drumming, he said that Mack is so obsessed
with the sound that he would have Luke play the drums so he could walk away and
listen from a distance. He wanted to ensure fans close to the stage and in the
nosebleed section would hear everything the same. Then he would batter Luke on
how terrible he was at playing drums until Luke finally got better at it.

Now that was a band of
brothers.
Brothers of rock
.

After that second
practice, Johnnie knew Chasing Cross would play the scheduled show. Peter set
up a press conference to announce the fill in drummer. It attracted quite the
Chasing Cross crowd and thanks to social media and rumors, the fan base seemed
to be split between Chasing Cross and Fallen Tuesday. When the lead singer from
Fallen Tuesday came forward as the Chasing Cross drummer replacement, the crowd
had erupted. That gave Johnnie faith that things would work out, at least for
now.

Johnnie listened to the
entire sound check for Fallen Tuesday. They were good and each night on stage
they got better. That was the best part. The bigger crowds and bigger groups of
fans didn’t get to them. They stuck to the music. That would take them far.

When the band finished,
they left the stage. The techs came out and began to switch everything for
Chasing Cross to have their turn at a sound check. Johnnie walked backstage to
look for Chasing Cross and then he went to look for Luke. He was drinking a
bottle of water. When he finished, he found a pair of drumsticks and began to
stretch his arms. The moves looked painful, so Johnnie had to ask about them.

“Mack told me,” Luke
said. “Stretch the shoulders. Wrists. It’s not as simple as just getting behind
a kit, right?”

“I guess not,” Johnnie
said.

Danny came out of a
dressing room with a guitar around his neck. “You ready for this?”

Luke nodded. “I’m always
ready. I’ve been listening to you guys for years and I’ve been on tour with you
guys for months now. I can handle this.”

“That’s a ton of
playing,” Johnnie said. “Singing for forty-five minutes then drumming for close
to two hours.”

“Maybe Chasing Cross will
share the stage more then,” Luke said and smiled.

“Talk to Peter on that
one,” Danny said.

They all laughed and took
to the stage for their sound check.

The sound was tight. Luke
could play. Johnnie looked left to right, catching Danny, Davey, and Chris all
smiling. But when Johnnie looked back and saw Luke, it pained him. Luke was the
complete opposite to Rick. Luke was skinnier, taller, and stronger with more
muscle definition. Rick looked like the cliché burned out rockstar. That was
Rick’s charm, but that had worn off.

When the sound check
finished, Johnnie nodded in approval and then left the stage. He tore the
earpieces from his ears, tossed them at a tech as he stormed by, and he didn’t
stop walking until he was on the bus. Even then, as he sat at a large table,
looking out the tinted window, watching how much work was being done just so he
could sing to people tonight, something ate at him.

Luke wasn’t Rick.

An obvious thought but it
was the one that did it.

It felt like forever
since Johnnie talked to Rick. It just didn’t feel right. From the time Chasing
Cross became Chasing Cross, the five guys were always together. They always
kept tabs on each other. They always talked. They argued. They fought. They
each took their turn quitting the band. But nothing was ever this serious.

The bus door opened and
Danny stepped up. He stood in the walkway and put his hands up slowly.

“Don’t shoot,” he
whispered and smiled.

“Do I look that pissed?”
Johnnie asked.

“You look ready to shoot
someone,” Danny said. “Talk to me.”

Danny took a seat across
from his brother and stared at Johnnie.

“Just getting used to
this,” Johnnie said.

“Luke is good,” Danny
said.

“Luke is amazing,”
Johnnie said. “It’s not that. He’s not Rick. I feel like we’re heading down
that path now...”

“What path?”

The bus door opened again
and in came the rest of what was left of Chasing Cross. Davey and Chris.
Johnnie kept talking.

“That path when a band
doesn’t know when to quit,” Johnnie said. “You know? Are we going to be those
guys that go out eight, ten months out of the year and play the same damn show
to the same damn crowds, never enjoying life?”

“Johnnie...,” Danny
whispered.

“I mean, this is how it
starts, right? The drummer quits. The band forges on. More rifts come between
us. Then it implodes.”

“What would come between
us?” Chris asked. “This was all Rick. He made the decision. I don’t think any of
us here feel that Rick made the right decision.”

“I just wish we could
talk to him,” Johnnie said. “I feel like we lost him. I’m not sure if I should
be pissed or grieve or what.”

“We all feel that way,”
Davey said. “Rick’s our brother still. I’m sure he’ll come to his senses and we
will talk to him soon. It’s not like this is done for good.”

“You don’t think so?”
Johnnie asked.

“Well, we have to be real
here,” Chris said. “He’s going to come and go as he pleases. Whatever he has to
figure out right now, let him do it. But for us... there are a lot of people
depending on these shows. Peoples paychecks are at stake. And the fans want it.
They want Chasing Cross.”

“But are we Chasing
Cross?” Johnnie asked.

“If we play the show they
want to see,” Davey said, we are Chasing Cross.”

“I agree,” Danny said.
“Let’s get through these first few shows and see what happens. It’s going to be
a shit storm of media and questions. Peter will be pulling his hair out dealing
with all this...”

“What’s left of his
hair,” Chris said.

“Well, just promise me
this,” Johnnie said. “If any of us are questioned about Rick... we keep it
simple. Rick needed some time off. That’s it. That’s all we say.”

The rest of the band
agreed.

Johnnie stuck his fist
out and Danny, Davey, and Chris added theirs. Johnnie looked at their fists.
There were only four. There should have been five.

**

The moment Rick saw the
stone pillars of the porch, he fell in love with the house. It was on a corner
lot with an alley at the very end and had a ton of privacy. The two stories would
give Rick plenty of space. The front porch had a brooding look. From the
backdoor, there was a small stone walkway that led to a massive two car garage
with attic storage. That’s what did it for Rick. The garage was bigger than the
apartment Rick had been renting. There were stone walls, a stone floor, a cool
smelling air, and a hint of oil, grease, maybe even some gasoline.

A few pull string lights
hung from wooden rafters and in the back corner was a small set of steps that
led to the attic area. Rick felt tempted to ask just for the garage and nothing
else. He stood in the middle of the garage and started to picture it. He
started to picture a band playing... his band playing... a band that would only
take a day to create. All it would take would be a few quick phone calls to
some old friends and Rick would have his garage band.

Rick walked to one of the
walls and knocked on it. The stone was thick but it wouldn’t be thick enough to
keep all the sound out. He appreciated the lack of true neighbors. He walked to
the garage doors and pulled one of them open. There was a small paved area
leading to another alley. Across the alley was another house. A garage first,
then the house. He smiled. This was comfortable. This was quiet. This was a
place to come and jam out. To write some new music and to just think about
life.

“Hey, Jackson?” Rick
called out.

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t see a fridge in
the garage,” Rick said.

“No. No fridge. Owners
took that one with them when they left.”

“I definitely need a
fridge in the garage,” Rick said.

“I’m not an appliance
guy,” Jackson said. “What are you thinking? About the house.”

Rick turned and looked at
his long time buddy, Jackson. The man had already wasted hours upon hours, now
into days. This was the house for sure and Rick knew it. So did Jackson. He
just asked because it was a formality.

“I’ll give you the number
to my lawyer,” Rick said. “He’ll handle all the paperwork and then the money.”

“You’re going to pay
asking price?”

“I’m going to go make a
phone call and get my stuff moved into the place tonight,” Rick said.

“Not sure you can do
that,” Jackson said.

“I’m Rick from Chasing
Cross,” Rick said. “I’ll do whatever I want. Why don’t you let me take you out
for a drink, Jackson? Celebrate your latest sale?”

“I’m good, Rick,” Jackson
said. “I’ve got a busy night.”

“That’s right. You’re a
family man now.”

“I’ve been a family man
for years, Rick. I hope this house settles you down.”

Rick looked around the
garage. He wasn’t sure if settle was in his personal dictionary. But he did
enjoy the place. He took his phone out of his pocket as Jackson excused himself
and left the garage. Rick looked at the screen and paused.

Tonight.

There was supposed to be
a Chasing Cross show tonight. Rick couldn’t help himself but to check on the
band. He wanted to see if they were actually going to play a show. Tonight they
were. The first show without Rick. The first show with a replacement drummer.
The lead singer of Fallen Tuesday was going to sit behind the Chasing Cross
drum kit.

Rick scrolled through his
phone and made a call.

“Hey, it’s Rick. Listen.
I, uh, need a favor. I need a ticket... yeah, a ticket. Just one. For what? For
the show. What show? Come on, man, the show tonight. You know what I’m talking
about... I want to go see Chasing Cross play. Tonight.”

(4)

Sarah Harrisey took her
white coat off and hung it up on the hook on the back of the door. She looked
at her desk and let out a long sigh. It had been another long day at the
office. She was the only veterinarian in the small town of Smithsten,
California and that sometimes meant she’d face a little of everything. Dogs, cats,
horses, snakes, pigs, even lizards. You name it and it’s probably been brought
through the front doors of the office.

A few years back Sarah
took on a partner in the office, giving her a chance to cut back on her hours
to enjoy life a little more. Life hadn’t been easy for Sarah. Her parents were
killed in a car accident when she was fourteen, leaving her in the care of her
grandmother, who at that time was already a widow and had survived breast
cancer. The woman was a fighter, but she couldn’t fight the clock. She passed
away a year ago, suddenly leaving Sarah alone. The worst part of it - to Sarah
at least - was that her grandmother had quite a bit of money, and she left it
all to Sarah. Not that Sarah minded a nice inheritance, she just wished her grandmother
would have done more and lived a little more.

Yet Sarah was the same
way.

She did the same thing
every morning, afternoon, and night. On the weekends, she took a forty-five
minute drive west toward the beach, but usually for an animal function, to help
with shelters, to check animals that had been found, to try to educate people
on animal care and convince them to adopt a pet rather than buy from a breeder.

Standing in her office,
the pictures on her desk could easily fool someone into believing that Sarah
was married with a family. In reality the pictures were of her grandmother, her
first dog, Annie, and the dog she had now, Molly. Molly was a golden retriever,
a loyal dog with beautiful blonde hair and a smile always on her face. Sarah
grabbed the picture of Molly and turned it around to stare at it. It was a
picture of Sarah and Molly at the beach. Molly with her mouth open, tongue
hanging out, her head back a little as the ocean breeze made her seem to smile
larger. Sarah was in a bikini, wearing sunglasses, and a smile on her face. The
picture had been taken by her ex boyfriend, John. They had been together for
six months, a record relationship for Sarah, but it never worked out. No matter
what they did they were together, but they were never really together. They
were more like friends who kept each other company when needed. When John
finally sat down with Sarah and explained he had met someone at the gym, she wasn’t
in complete shock. She actually blamed herself for never allowing herself to
open up to anyone. At that time though she had been working close to eighty
hours a week at the office and once she and John broke up, Sarah knew she
needed to make some changes. That’s when she brought in a partner - Dr. Linda
Bearstrong - who split the hours with her. The practice continued to grow and
succeed and Sarah had time off.

Yet, she still never
dated.

All her free time she
spent either with Molly or helping with other animals that needed it. She tried
to paint herself as a wholesome woman who wanted to give, but in reality, she
was just simply afraid of another relationship.

Sarah put the picture of her
and Molly back on her desk. She sat down and forged through some paperwork
before finally calling it a day. Linda had showed up around four and would work
until eight when the office closed. Leaving work when there were still animals
sitting in the waiting room used to make Sarah feel guilty, but she learned to
understand that she needed time away from work. Not to mention she needed to get
home to Molly.

When she arrived home,
Sarah opened the door and Molly came to greet her as though they hadn’t seen
each other in years. The golden retriever was on two legs, front paws in
Sarah’s hands, her thick tail wagging hard left to right. Her mouth was open
and she started to let out whimpers. Whimpers that always brought a smile to
Sarah’s face.

“Did someone miss me?”
Sarah asked.

Molly let out a throaty
cry of joy.

“I was only gone for a
few hours,” Sarah said.

Sarah took both paws in
one hand and rubbed the top of Molly’s head. The dog pushed her head back more
and more, wanting Sarah to rub under chin. That was the start of her
spot
, as Sarah called
it. Molly’s
spot
went
from her under her chin right down to her stomach. Molly hurried to take her
front paws back and then sat, laid down, and rolled over.

Sarah crouched down and
rubbed Molly’s belly, staring at the dog’s happy face.

“You’re spoiled,” Sarah
said. “You know that?”

Molly snapped her jaw
shut quickly and then began to pant again.

“How was your day?” Sarah
asked. “Tell me... how was your day?”

Molly’s mouth quivered
and she let out a small bark.

“What was that? You want
to... go for a walk?”

At the word
walk
, Molly began to
convulse. She kicked her legs and wiggled her back, anything to get herself
back on her four legs. It was Molly’s favorite word and Sarah loved nothing
more than coming home from work and taking the dog for a walk. It relaxed her
mind and it helped Molly to burn off some of her stored up energy. When she
first got Molly, she never stopped playing. It was like the puppy needed
fifteen minute power naps and nothing more. Sarah assumed the puppy would calm
down. That never happened. Molly was the size of an adult golden retriever but
her heart and spirit was that of a puppy.

“Go get your leash,”
Sarah said.

Molly spun and jumped,
letting out a louder bark. Molly then ran to the closet and pawed at it. Sarah
opened the closet and Molly hurried to grab the purple leash, sliding it off
the nail it hung from. Sarah laughed and hooked Molly up to take her for a
walk.

Molly was smart and
trained enough that she didn’t really need a leash to go for a walk, the dog would
never stray far from Sarah, but out of respect to those in town, Sarah always
kept Molly on a leash.

The walk began out front
with a quick pause or two in the front yard for Molly to inspect if anyone had
walked through yard during the day. After going to the bathroom, Molly made a
line for the sidewalk. Molly kept at Sarah’s side and it made the walk easy and
relaxing for Sarah. She let her mind slip away, she looked at the different
houses in her neighborhood, picked out any changes, waved to those who were
outside, and shared small talk with a few of the usual neighbors who about
their pets. Most of the time Sarah just suggested that they bring the animal
into the office for a quick look. At the corner, a large made a turn toward
Sarah’s house. Sarah followed it with her eyes down the street. What was a
truck that large doing in the neighborhood?

Her phone vibrated.

The text was from one of
her friends - Susie - wanting to know if Sarah had dinner plans. Sarah never
had dinner plans. She tucked her phone back into her pocket and told herself
she’d answer the text in a little while. First, Sarah wanted to know where the
large truck was going.

She walked Molly back down
the street. The truck was stopped at the next stop sign and sitting as though
the driver considered cutting down the alley that ran behind Sarah’s house. She
had a garage but rarely used it. Even when it rained the garage didn’t help
because it was detached. It was a much closer walk from the front curb to the
house than the garage to the house.

The truck growled and
started to move, going straight. That would take the truck out of town in about
five minutes, putting it near all the local and major highways. Sarah assumed
the truck must have gotten off course looking for a delivery. She turned and
began to walk down the alley while Molly’s nose stuck in every patch of grass
she could find. Sarah slid her phone back out of her pocket to answer Susie.

She had mastered the one
handed walking text, thanks to Molly.

No plans. Coming over?

Susie was married for a
little over two years and had a thirteen month old son. Usually when Susie text
Sarah for dinner plans that was the cue that her son - Bobby - hadn’t been
sleeping or was teething or Susie just needed a break from being a wife and
mother. Sarah didn’t mind at all. She enjoyed the company and more times than
not, Susie brought wine.

Susie replied a minute
later.

I’ll be there at seven.
Dinner, drinks on me. Rob will drive me so we can have a few glasses of wine
together!

Sarah smiled.

It was nice to have
plans.

It was nice to be wanted
and needed.

As if Molly could read
Sarah’s thoughts, the dog stopped walking and looked up at Sarah.

“I know,” Sarah said.
“You want and need me. I get that.”

Molly gave a quick bark
and started to walk again.

Sarah wanted to be wanted
and needed by a person, not just her dog.

At the end of the alley,
Sarah stood between her house and the house that had been up for sale for three
months now. Molly froze and let out a small growl. Sarah tugged on the leash
and walked Molly towards their garage. Molly continued to growl under her
breath.

Sarah crouched down and
petted the dog. “It’s okay, girl. Old Mr. Henders doesn’t live there anymore.”

Molly growled and then
looked back at Sarah. Molly licked her lips, gave Sarah a quick kiss, and then went
back to growling.

Sarah knew why Molly was
growling. The old man that had lived in the house for years hadn’t the best
neighbor to anyone. Even though it was a corner house, he managed to have
problems with everyone. Most of the time he walked the neighborhood, never
afraid to knock on a door and suggest something to be fixed, changed, or
replaced. None of that bothered Sarah because the front of her house didn’t face
where Mr. Henders walked, but Mr. Henders liked to work with wood and his saws
were noisy and always sent Molly into a fit. There was nothing Sarah could do
about it because Mr. Henders kept to himself. He did work with the garage doors
opened and Sarah thought about saying something to the old man but she never
did. All she knew was that Mr. Henders wife died twenty years ago and he spent
his life waiting to die too. While he didn’t die, he did finally put the house
up for sale and move away.

It had been a quiet three
months.

No saws.

No noise.

Molly was calmer.

Until now.

It was like Molly could
sense something.

Sarah noticed the left
door on the garage was slightly open.

“Is that what’s bothering
you?” she asked Molly.

Molly whimpered and
dropped her head.

Sarah rubbed Molly’s
head. “Oh, girl, it’s okay. I’m sure...”

From the corner of her
eye, Sarah saw the truck again. She stood up and watched as the truck began to
back up, coming down the alley with perfection. The truck hadn’t gone straight
and out of town. It had simply gone around the block, looking for a better way
to back down the alley.

Sarah kept Molly close to
her as the truck beeped as it backed up towards the garage.

“Well, look at that,”
Sarah said. “Looks like someone bought old Mr. Henders’ house...” Molly looked
up at Sarah. “Let’s just hope, whoever it is, they’re quiet.”