On the Run (Vagabonds #1) Read online

  On the Run

  (Vagabonds #1)

  Jade C. Jamison

  On the Run

  What if your dream became a nightmare?

  Kyle Summers enjoys a carefree childhood traveling the countryside with her parents…until she discovers the electric guitar. When she first wraps her hand around its neck, she knows she was born to play it.

  When she discovers boys, she realizes she has a second passion.

  But music always comes first, and when Kyle is recruited to be part of a young all-girl band, she jumps at her chance for fame and fortune. It isn’t long before Kyle discovers that all that glitters isn’t gold. Will she survive when she discovers the dark and seedy side of the music industry—or will it ruin her for good?

  Vagabonds follows one young woman’s rise to fame past the pitfalls of sex, drugs, and easy money, through fortune and success to heartbreak and betrayal. Five girls build their band The Vagabonds from nothing but a hunger to create and quickly find that they are nothing but pawns in a larger game played by managers, agents, the press, the music industry, and all manner of unscrupulous, greedy people who want to feed on their triumphs. Friendships and lives hang in the balance. Who will survive?

  “What are you doin’ here?”

  CJ grinned. “Free country, right?”

  “Closed session.”

  “I thought you’d make an exception for a big star like me.”

  I tilted my head. Oh, my God, when and how had I learned to flirt? “Yeah, I think we will…for a big sexy star like yourself.”

  “Sexy?”

  Yep, I’d said it. “Video says it all, right?”

  He laughed. “I guess.”

  We started walking, maybe because of a need to remove ourselves a little from the group because, after all, who wants to flirt and make moves on someone else under the scrutiny of several people? “When are you guys leaving for tour?”

  “Saturday morning.” We took two more slow steps before he said, “You?”

  “End of the month…so, soon but not soon enough for my taste.”

  We paused once we got backstage. It was dark and quiet and I realized I had this man alone…all by himself and just for me. “Peter said something about trying to have our two bands do a show or two together near the end of our tour.”

  My words came out fine but they didn’t sound right to my ears. “That would be cool.” My mind was other places.

  His words didn’t sound right either because I think his thoughts were in the same place mine were. “Nice nose piercing by the way.”

  Maybe it was unnecessary because his face was already closer to mine, but I pulled the neck of his t-shirt into the ball of my fist and said, “Would you shut up and kiss me already?” I pulled him the rest of the way to my face but he was moving too. Still, like a fucking tease, he paused with his lips just centimeters away and his eyes scanned mine. He laced the fingers of his right hand through my hair, almost as if to anchor me, and I closed my eyes. I could feel the heat of his lips before they actually touched mine, and when they did, I felt my entire body tense up and my soul began to sing. My mouth opened to take him in and his tongue traced my upper lip, teasing once more, making my body tense up again. My core felt like it was vibrating and catching on fire while my insides were turning into a puddle. I could feel my heart begin to thud in my chest as though it were going to explode, and I touched his tongue with mine. Holy shit, he tasted delicious, and I knew right then that I could do this all day. But then we stopped and I sucked in a breath, and it was hard to reach the bottom of my lungs. I forced myself to relax my hand and splayed my palm against the shirt on his chest. It was then that I noticed my panties were wet.

  He opened his eyes, a tiny smile turning up the corners of his lips. “That what you had in mind?”

  Still hard to breathe. “Yeah.” And speak. My mind was officially blown.

  WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT ON THE RUN:

  “This author does it right. She doesn’t just throw the rockstar title around. Nope, she gives her readers what they crave. You can go in knowing you’re gonna get the whole experience. The music that flows through the veins of the born-to-rock characters. The song lyrics that speak to you because you recognize the emotion they were written with. The passion of a music lover that flows through the pages of your kindle and reaches you as the story unfolds. The excitement of being there when the magic happens.” Rosa Sharon, iScream Books

  “I knew when Jade C Jamison said this story was going to be about an all girl band that I needed to read this book and I wasn’t disappointed. You can bet there will be drama, sexiness and heartbreak along the way, all in the name of rock ‘n’ roll!” JG, Jezabell Girl & Friends

  “I love this book and I am anxiously awaiting book 2 in this series. You can feel the story starting to build and I think it’s going to be epic. It’s going to rank right up there with Bullet...one of my favorite books this year!” L.A. Remenicky, author

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2015 by Jade C. Jamison

  Cover design © Mr. Jamison

  Cover images © Shutterstock: Christophe BOISSON, Ksanawo, solarseven, NiklsN, illustrart, and AVN Photo Lab

  All rights reserved.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author. Characters and names of real persons who appear in the book are used fictitiously.

  DISCLAIMER: On the Run might read like YA and feel like YA because the characters start out as teens, but don’t be fooled. It is not YA, a point that will become more and more clear as this trilogy progresses. As the story moves forward, it will deal with darker issues and heavier themes that are not appropriate for a YA audience.

  Dedicated to Lita Ford, the greatest female musician metal has ever known

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Note from Jade

  Second Quick Note from Jade

  Vagabond n. A person who moves from place to place without a permanent home.

  “It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.” ~ e. e. cummings

  Prologue

  I HEARD SOME DJ on the radio the other day introducing my song—you know, my new single, the one I call “Ecstatic”? Yeah, that song. I laughed so hard when he said this album was a strong debut from me. I suppose I shouldn’t be amused, because at least he knew I was one of the former guitarists from the Vagabonds. But as my damn song has climbed up the Billboard charts, I’m shocked and surprised that so many people have never heard of me. It’s not like I’ve been languishing i
n obscurity or hiding from the press. I’ve been here, people, been working my ass off. You just haven’t been watching.

  I can’t be angry, though, because part of me feels like it’s about goddamn time. I’ve been out here, playing my ass off, writing some killer music and sick lyrics, and I haven’t had many people listening since I parted ways with the Vagabonds. Huge thanks to my hardcore fans, though, for buying the last two solo albums. I don’t know where I’d be without you, but it looks like the rest of the world finally got on board and caught up with you.

  This book is for them. Sorry, fans—you already know my story. You know how I started out. You know my whole story with the Vagabonds as well as my struggles since. You know where I came from. You know about my friends and enemies. You guys are the ones who’ve kept me rockin’. No…this is for all the newbies, all the people who think this album that’s selling like there’s no tomorrow is my first one, all the people who think I’m “a find,” like I just got here.

  This is your wake-up call. Wanna take a ride?

  “Lady Killer” ~ Lita Ford

  Chapter One

  A LOT OF people who have never heard of me think Kyle Summers is a fake name, that I made it up. Yeah, I know lots of people who have created fake names or changed up their real names a bit for the biz, but I didn’t. I was born Kyle Summers and I’ll die Kyle Summers…for better or worse.

  My dad, I’m sure, will deny it till his dying day, but I’m pretty damn sure he’d been hoping for a boy. He and my mom were kind of hippies and they believed that when I was born, I’d inspire a name, so they didn’t plan. It was kind of like when you adopt a kitten—you name it once you get to know it. Mom and dad felt that way about the baby growing inside her. They’d just know what to call me when I came out. Well…my dad happened to be the more organized, more conservative of the two, and I think he already had the name Kyle picked out, and I’m pretty damn sure he was hoping I’d have a penis when I fell out of my mom’s crotch.

  Oh, yeah, another part of their hippiness—no ultrasounds. In fact, very little prenatal care at all. It just wasn’t their way. So they had no idea the sex of their child, but I know dad was expecting a boy that day that gave in and went to the hospital so mom could give birth.

  But, alas, I had no penis.

  Just a bad fuckin’ attitude.

  Actually, that’s not true. Bad ass, perhaps, and that’s all thanks to how empowered my parents had always made me feel—like I could do anything; be anything. The world was my damn horse and all I needed was to find the right saddle and mount up. Or not. I could ride bareback if need be.

  Okay, so…my mom kind of got her way. Kind of. I guess you could say my middle name is a girl’s name, but the jury’s out on that one. My middle name is Surrender. Yeah, you got it right. Surrender. Like the verb. Like giving up, giving in. Totally not me. But mom explained that when she saw my “little face” looking up at her, helpless and dependent, she surrendered her heart to me that moment. She knew, right then and there, that I was her destiny.

  No, I don’t think that’s too sappy. You’d have to know my mom. She totally owns it. She’s amazing, and she really did make me feel like I could do anything. She’s the reason why I’m here today. She gave me so much love and support and encouragement, even when she probably should have hauled my ass home—even against my dad’s wishes, she knew what I wanted and needed and made sure I got it.

  So, you might wonder why I don’t go by Surrender, considering that was my mom’s name for me. Well, they started calling me Kyle right off the bat, and that’s who I am. I think I was in about eight years old when I asked my parents to call me Surrender for a while, and it just didn’t work. I don’t feel that name. It didn’t feel right. It’s not me. Yeah, it’s part of me, but…well, I think you get the point.

  Anyway, my parents, as you know, were free spirits. They wandered wherever the wind took them, and for several of my formative years, we never put down roots anywhere. In fact, until I was ten or eleven, my mom homeschooled me (or would that be road schooled?). I think that’s why I’m just okay in math. The good news is I’m well read, because I constantly had a book in my hand, and I started reading literature that was probably deemed too mature for me at a young age. Being an only child made me somewhat precocious anyway, but add on that I read far and wide and deep…and, by the time I left my house, I’d probably read more books than most people read in a lifetime. I loved Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden when I was little and then discovered old hard-boiled detective novels. We’d find used book stores in whatever town we were in at the time and buy them by the bag full. They were cheap and quick reads for me. We’d usually roll into the next town and trade them for a new bunch to keep me busy. And, since we were on the road a lot, I read more than you might expect. I had nothing much more to do. I didn’t have a reading device back then. That would have required more responsibility from my parents than they were willing to take on. They wanted as few ties to the world as possible, and having an account online whereby we’d purchase electronic books was not part of the plan.

  Oh, and music. I listened to lots of music. I didn’t own an iPod in those days—for the same reason as why I didn’t own a tablet. Nope, all my music was in the form of good old-fashioned CDs, and I had a portable player, so I only had to keep stocked up on batteries. The only downfall was the space they took up. I listened to a lot of old stuff, though, because it was what my parents listened to and we didn’t always listen to the radio or tap into the internet when we were temporarily grounded somewhere. So I first developed a love for Jimi Hendrix, AC/DC, Black Sabbath, and Deep Purple…and then I discovered 80s metal, and I’d buy used CDs in every town we stopped in.

  You’re probably wondering by now how we afforded to do so much traveling. Well, the story is that, just after I was born, my mom’s parents passed. She too was an only child and inherited everything…but she’d hated her parents. Despised them. She didn’t cherish anything they’d left her. So my mom and dad sold it all and lived off that money for years. My dad told me he also invested wisely. Sure, we’d stay in some communities for several months and my folks would sometimes work, but we never stayed for long. Any friends I made were temporary and soon forgotten and the memories would fade and then blend in with all the rest.

  When I was eleven or twelve, though…they felt like I needed friends. I didn’t disagree. We didn’t watch TV much, but when we did, I saw normal kids doing normal things with normal families…and I knew my family wasn’t normal.

  That was also when everything changed for me. I discovered Burn the Priest (who soon thereafter became Lamb of God) and Korn and Disturbed and…well, you get the idea. I also discovered that school was a trip and that I was sorely lacking in math. My parents got me a tutor and I managed, but it was never nor would it ever be a subject I loved.

  I also found TV. It wasn’t that exciting to me, not compared to all my other interests, but I did get into professional wrestling—oh, and Beavis and Butthead, of all things.

  We settled in Southern Colorado after working on a farm that summer, and after that my dad quickly got a job teaching English Lit at a respected university in a neighboring city. Yeah. My dad. I had no idea he had a PhD, and you wouldn’t have thought it the way we’d lived. My mom started teaching music lessons in our home, something I had no idea she could do—and that was when I confessed to her that I too loved music…loved it deeply and wanted to learn how to play an instrument myself.

  “What do you want to play, Ky?”

  That was a no brainer, although I never would have said it out loud. I thought of some of the guys I was really drawn to musically, guys like Willie Adler, Dan Donegan, Kirk Cobain, Randy Rhoads, Robbin Crosby, Tom Keifer, George Lynch, Lita Ford, Dimebag, Jimi Hendrix, Slash…and there was no doubt in my mind what I wanted to play. If I could be half as good as Willie Adler… “Electric guitar.”

  Of course, mom and I debated if I should learn acoustic first—and I g
ave in and did it that way to begin with, but as soon as I had my first electric…I began teaching myself all the solos, all the riffs, all the amazing stuff the guitarists I worshipped did. When I had that guitar hanging from my body, nothing else mattered…and time flew. It was engaging on a level that nothing in my life before or since ever has been—and I belonged to it, heart and soul.

  I was twelve—in a new school, making friends for the first time in my life, finding my passion. I knew in my heart that lots of people had no idea what they wanted to do when they were adults—but I wasn’t going to wait. I was doing it now.

  Chapter Two

  IT DIDN’T TAKE me much time to become a “normal” teenager. Once we were settled—for the first time in my life—it wasn’t long before I had my bedroom plastered with posters of my favorite bands. In no time flat, I had adjusted and embraced what it meant to have roots, to be grounded. My parents and I also discovered that I didn’t have a shy bone in my body—I made friends easily and enjoyed the hell out of school.

  Part of that was also naïveté, the fact that I hadn’t been exposed to people on that level before. I wasn’t a sucker, though. I couldn’t be duped easily, but I did tend to take people at their face value and trust that they had my best interests at heart. In school, it turned out to be a well-founded belief for the most part and didn’t cause me any issues. Down the road, though, it would prove to be a big problem for me—and for the other girls in the band as well.

  For the meantime, though, I had no problem making friends, but close friends? No dice. We had moved to a close-knit small town, one where everyone knew almost everyone else and certainly knew each other’s business. We were the outsiders and, while we were accepted and welcomed, we were not native born-and-bred townsfolk. I had acquaintance-type friends (and I was perfectly okay with that, because I hadn’t had any friends while on the road) but no best friends whom I told everything about my life to. And that was all right. I didn’t know any better. In fact, it was probably a better thing, because I saw other girls flitting from one clique to the next, gossiping and talking trash about one another. I couldn’t have been that girl. I was much better on the fringe—friends with everyone…and best friends with no one. I never had to choose sides.