Bullet Series Box Set Books 1-8 Page 5

  I finally recovered from my slip-of-the-tongue moment. “Of course, I do. You guys will go so far if you keep playing like that. And you can play for me anytime.”

  Brad let out a whoop, suddenly a nineteen-year-old young man again instead of the tempting guy he’d been just minutes earlier. “Good. I told my mom and dad someone would like our stuff. My dad asked what mom said and before I could even answer, he said it was a sound even a mother couldn’t love. Thanks for proving him wrong, Val.”

  I smiled at him and then began to doubt that he’d even had that effect on me earlier. Zane played a bassline and then said, “We like it, and that’s all that counts.”

  Brad said, “Hey, Valerie…” Something was up his sleeve, and I immediately grew nervous again. That furtive smile and the secret silent exchange now hung between us. I took a deep breath. There was no way I’d be able to be around this guy for too long…not if I wanted to remain faithful to Ethan. Yeah…like we were really in a relationship. “I saw you mouthing the words to all the covers. Would you like to sing one?”

  I laughed and waved my hands in front of me. “No, that’s okay.”

  “I’m serious. You could give our vocal cords a rest.”

  “Besides,” Ethan said, now a conspirator, draping his arm around my shoulders, “you said you’d always fantasized about being on stage.”

  I felt that warmth start crawling up my neck again. God…he’d actually remembered that? “Well, I don’t know.” I took a deep breath. “Both your voices are a lot better than mine.”

  “No excuse, Val. Come on,” Brad said, teasing me with his eyes. In the short hour or two since I’d met Brad, I already felt as though I’d known him most of my life. So, naturally—and, perhaps, stupidly—I trusted him.

  All the guys were pleading at me with their eyes. I sighed. “Okay.” Brad and Ethan high fived. “But only one song.”

  “Of course.”

  Zane asked, “What do you want us to play?”

  Oh. That was a difficult question. I had been singing to metal since I’d turned thirteen, and I’d listened to everything from the classics to the most cutting-edge stuff out there. The problem was I had no idea who was actually in my range, which songs I really knew the words to…none of that. I’d lowered my eyes and was concentrating on the design painted on the bass drum, but I was going through a list of artists and favorite songs in my head. I couldn’t do any screaming vocals, and I knew I couldn’t go too high or too low. As I thought about it, I figured my range was pretty limited. The most singing I’d done outside of my bedroom, car, or the shower was probably in church singing low-key, depressing hymns that were definitely out of my range. Finally, I shrugged. “No idea.”

  Brad squinted his eyes as though scrutinizing me. “How do you feel about Korn?”

  “I like ‘em.”

  He grinned. “Name anything you could sing off one of their first four CDs.” Ethan scowled at him. “What? I can play any one of ‘em.”

  The look Ethan had been giving him turned into a glare. “I can’t.” He looked at me. “Know ‘Moon Baby’ by Godsmack?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Would you feel comfortable singing it?”

  “I think so.”

  “You know the words?”

  “Yep.”

  “You heard the woman.” Ethan positioned his guitar and started playing. Zane’s eyes widened and he darted back to get his bass, while Nick rushed back to his set of drums. Even I wasn’t ready. Brad slid the mike out of the stand and handed it to me. Then he propped his guitar against the wall and sat in the chair where I’d been just moments before.

  Oh, shit. I’d just fueled some sort of testosterone contest, and Brad had lost. This was a one-guitar song. Brad had been suggesting songs that required two guitars. And I was stupid enough to have completely missed it.

  But Brad acted like it didn’t bother him at all. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the fact that he would get to watch me performing. God, I was nervous, but I was excited too. One thing I’d planned to do the day I turned twenty-one was go to a bar—not to get drunk, but to sing karaoke in front of a crowd. So today I got to perform for an audience of one.

  I almost missed my cue but started singing at the right time, right about the point where Zane and Nick joined in. I had thought I would be embarrassed, but I wasn’t—not even a little. And I loved the emotions pouring through me and out through the words. I thought of both Brad and Ethan when I sang the song and tried to dismiss the little battle that I’d just witnessed, hoping that was a normal thing between them and not something potentially disastrous. But even those worries disappeared as I continued singing. My voice was more powerful than I’d thought, and after the first line of the song, I was in my element.

  Maybe the stage was the place for me…but where the hell did that fit into college?

  No, it was all fantasy, just like I’d said to Ethan not long ago. Maybe he could make it, and having seen them perform that night, I thought they all could, but not me. Yeah, I’d fantasized about being in a rock band, but only because I was such a hardcore fan. I had my chance right then and there in Brad’s garage for three minutes, and now it was time to return to reality and the fact that I needed to settle on an academic major, not decide to be a vocal major as this newfound fantasy urged me.

  And when the vocals ended, I realized Ethan had been doubly selfish. I’d forgotten the long guitar solo at the end of the song, but I remembered as soon as I had to slide the mike back in the stand.

  The solo was impressive, though, even when Ethan went “off script.” He was doing stuff in that solo that Godsmack would probably cringe hearing, but it was kind of cool. Definitely Ethan…mysterious, unwarranted but badass, in your face and ballsy. I moved to stand beside the chair and watch, and Brad smiled and patted his knee…inviting me to sit on his lap? Oh, no, I didn’t think so. He and I had already gotten a little too chummy in the few short hours I’d known him. If I sat on his knee, I knew all chances I had with Ethan would be lost forever.

  He grinned and stood. “Seriously, go ahead and have a seat.” He waved his hand at it as though inviting me.

  “No, really, I’m good.”

  He shrugged and the two of us stood to watch Ethan finish the solo. Brad stood close enough to me, though, that I imagined I could feel his body heat radiating over to mine. It had to be my imagination. But that vibration inside, the one shaking me to the core? Yeah…that was Brad, and if Ethan had sensed any of the insane, unexpected chemistry between me and his best friend, this would be the last time I ever saw Brad.

  Ethan was good. From what I’d seen of the two of them, they were both incredible guitarists but they played differently. The biggest difference? When Brad played his guitar, he remembered I still existed. For Ethan, his whole world became that damned guitar…and nothing else.

  Chapter Six

  EITHER ETHAN HADN’T noticed, or he just didn’t give a shit. That was okay, I supposed, because nothing would ever come of whatever weird chemistry Brad and I had. That was my guess, anyway, because as soon as we were in his truck to head back to his house, Ethan said nothing about it and instead asked, “Did you really like our band, or were you just being nice?” I looked over at him, my brows furrowed, but I doubted he could see my face. The street lamps in this town were few and far between, and what little he could see inside the truck would be coming from the dash. “I know you have a tendency to be polite, but coming from a guy who trusts you, who’s putting all his trust in you, please be totally honest. Brutally honest. I’ll get plenty of fan gushing later on. I need criticism right now.”

  Was this a trick question? Ethan didn’t seem the type to take criticism well…not that it mattered in this instance. I smiled at him. “Everything I said back there was true. You guys were fantastic, and I’m so glad I finally got to see you play.”

  I’d managed to plaster a smile on his face that remained all the way to his house. He leaned over and cranked the
radio. And that left me alone with my thoughts. Once Ethan had finished the “Moon Baby” solo, he’d rushed us out of there. He’d used the excuse that because his mom hadn’t been home by the time we’d left, he wanted to see her before she went to bed. That was what had made me think maybe he’d had issues with what I thought had been obscenely obvious flirtation or something between Brad and me. Before we’d walked out the door, Ethan asked if I’d enjoyed singing, and I’d given some goofy answer, but they all knew I’d liked it…a lot more than I maybe should have.

  And when we’d left, all the guys said goodbye, but Brad especially told me it had been a pleasure meeting me. His eyes said more, but I pretended not to register it. Then he’d slapped Ethan on the back, promising to see him Saturday afternoon.

  We got back to Ethan’s house after nine o’clock. The house was bathed in shadow, and as we walked to the door from the truck, I could see our breath hanging in the air. Ethan muttered, “Mom’s still not back? Where in hell could she be?” We walked into his house, and in the space of a few seconds, he seemed so lost, so vulnerable. He was worried about his mother. And right then and there, I realized it. Brad who?

  I loved Ethan.

  I had fallen hopelessly, madly in love with him. Was it a cliché? Hell, yeah, but it had happened nonetheless. My interest in him had waned before, and even tonight, under the intense scrutiny—no, admiration of someone else—I had doubted my feelings. But Brad had no hold over me when he wasn’t around. When it was just Ethan, I was overpowered with emotion for him. But it had seemed as though I’d allowed my interest to dwindle to just friends instead of…this intense, overwhelming feeling. Why, all of a sudden, was I overcome with it, especially after the evening I’d experienced?

  While I was swirling in an emotional eddy, Ethan was in one of his own…but at least he was talking out loud. His forehead puckered up into worry, and concern clouded his green eyes. “Where is she?” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and looked at me. “Go ahead and turn the TV on if you want, Val.” He started dialing.

  I shook my head. “That’s okay.” I was too worried about his worrying to concentrate on a television program. Really, though, I should have been studying for finals. But there was no way I could do that either, not while Ethan was so stressed out.

  “Hey, gramps. This is Ethan.” He glanced over at me and forced a smile but then turned around and started pacing. “I’m here for the weekend.” There was a pause. “Yeah, I’ll be home in a week, but I have a friend here visiting. Look…do you know where mom is?” His eyes grazed over me as I sat on the overstuffed couch that tried to swallow me up. “No, she’s not here. That’s why I called you. Is she maybe working late?” He continued to pace, and he ran a hand through his hair that I just noticed was getting a little longer. “Yeah…I can call there. Bye.” The expression of worry on his face grew. He walked into the kitchen and came back with a phone book. He sat on the couch next to me while leafing through the pages of the small book. “She works at a restaurant, and her usual shift is from eight to five, but sometimes she trades shifts with other waitresses.” His finger held his place on a phone number, and he dialed it with his right hand. Then he brought the phone up to his ear and waited. “Maybe she traded a shift today.” His expression changed as someone on the other side answered the phone. “Is June Richards there?” I saw him mouth fuck, but he said out loud, “I don’t suppose you know where she is.” Another pause until he said, “Okay. Thanks.” He pressed end on the phone. “What the fuck is she doing?” He started pressing buttons on his phone again, the expression on his face communicating so much. Yes, he should have called his mom’s cell first. He didn’t say a word but just held the phone to his ear. “Mom…where the hell are you? I’m here at home and you’re not. I’m worried about you. Please call me and let me know you’re okay.” He hung up but a cloud hung over his head, and he clenched his jaw. “Maybe she’s on a date or something.”

  He stood up again and started pacing. “Sorry if I’m upsetting you too, Val. I guess maybe we can just watch TV until she gets home.” I could tell he watched over his mother very carefully. I knew he called her several times a week from school. I wondered if his father was dead or just divorced from his mother, but I didn’t want to ask him about it.

  He switched the television on and starting surfing through channels, never staying on any one show for very long. I thought of grabbing one of the books I had in my suitcase, but I decided against it, knowing I wouldn’t retain much of what I studied anyway. So I tried my best to relax.

  Ethan finally settled on CNN, and I thought that was probably the worst choice out of all the possibilities. He’d be witnessing the dregs of humanity, the world at its worst—murder, arson, government scandals. If it were me, that kind of television would just make me more anxious.

  And then something happened. He slid his arm around my shoulders. An electric thrill ran through my body, just under the surface, and suddenly I was aware of everything. After a long time, though, nothing more happened, and Ethan even shifted a little to redial his mother. But he just left another message, asking her to call.

  After the emotional day, sitting still next to Ethan’s warm body, I dozed off and stirred later when he called his mother again, but then I fell completely under sleep’s heavy spell. In the back of my mind, I wondered if he felt comforted holding me or if he was starting to feel like I mattered to him. I didn’t know, but I wasn’t complaining about being close to him. I wasn’t sure when I drifted off, sometime early morning, I thought.

  I awoke early the next morning with a stiff neck and sore muscles, still in the same position, still in Ethan’s arms. I was surprised neither he nor I were sweating, but the house was cold. I noticed my hands were chilly as I started to stretch. The television was still on, CNN in its never-ending cycle of news reports. I spotted the remote next to Ethan’s right hand and reached over his lap for it. Then I switched the TV off.

  Ah, sweet silence. That felt good.

  I stood and stretched again and decided to let Ethan sleep longer. I wasn’t sure how I knew, but I did know he’d been up a good chunk of the night. He needed some rest, especially if we were going to have to spend the rest of the weekend figuring out what had happened to his mom. Now I was really worried about her.

  I decided to go ahead and take a shower so I’d be prepared for whatever Ethan decided to do. I went upstairs and got a fresh change of clothes out of my luggage, as well as all the other toiletries I thought I’d need. I went in the bathroom and couldn’t see a closet where there might be towels stored, nor any shelves, so I went back in the hallway. There were shelves between Ethan’s room and the bathroom and, sure enough, there were towels and washcloths on them. I grabbed one of each and went in the bathroom where a warm shower was beckoning me.

  I needed it and it felt great. By the time I was out and dressed, Ethan was up and at the kitchen table, thumping his fingers. He looked up at me. Oh, no. Why hadn’t I bothered with fresh makeup? And I’d combed out my hair but hadn’t done anything else with it. I was sure I looked like crap. But Ethan was too preoccupied to notice. “She’s not in bed, not at work. I tried calling her again and nothing. Where could she be?”

  I knew it was stupid, but I felt like I had to say something. “Did she maybe take a vacation? Maybe she’s staying at a friend or relative’s house, just enjoying some new scenery.” He scowled, and that’s when I knew my suggestions weren’t working. Ethan decided to shower as well, and I made sure to be looking more presentable when he came out, putting on some makeup. But he got some cereal out of the cupboards and made some coffee so we could eat a little breakfast. He called his grandfather again—no luck. And he left his mother at least three more messages.

  At ten o’clock, she walked in the door.

  Ethan didn’t miss a beat. He’d been pacing in the kitchen again but made a beeline for the older woman when she walked through the door. “Mom, where the hell have you been? I’ve b
een worried sick about you. You weren’t answering your phone; you didn’t call me back…”

  She took him in and pulled him into a warm embrace. “I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend, honey, or I would have made sure I was here.” She kissed him on the cheek and smiled. “I lost my phone. I thought maybe it was in the car. That’s where I usually find it when it’s lost, but no. I haven’t located it yet.” And that’s when she noticed me. I liked her right away. She was sincere, kind, and sweet. “Who’s your friend?”

  Ethan was calm and, for him, I no longer existed. “Don’t avoid my question, mom.”

  The woman tried to be stern, but her admonition fell flat. “Ethan, where are your manners? Introduce your friend first.” I saw a twinkle in her green eyes that looked just like her son’s. I guessed she was in her late thirties, because she looked a lot younger than my parents. Her brown hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and her eyes seemed alert but tired. And, while I wasn’t the best judge, she appeared to be too thin. Maybe she’d been working too hard or hadn’t gotten much sleep. “And why don’t we go have a cup of coffee at the kitchen table? You’re making me nervous.”

  His jaw clenched but he acquiesced. “This is a friend from school, Valerie Quinn.”

  Well, this was awkward. There was some weird tension growing between Ethan and his mother, and here I was, right in the middle of it. I just smiled as sweetly as I could and said hi. Then I tried to find some unobtrusive way to just blend into the background.

  His mother led Ethan by the elbow and even grabbed my hand on her other side, urging us to the kitchen. She hadn’t even removed her coat yet. Once we were in that dark but cozy room, she set her purse on the counter and then slid her long brown coat off her shoulders, draping it over a chair. She walked over to the coffee pot and pulled out a cup from the cabinet above it. “I see you’re meeting nice girls for a change.” His mother’s laugh was nervous. I couldn’t quite figure that one out.