It was oh so fucking different when it was his Jazz. Finally she was his.
Right now it didn’t feel that way. He hated not being able to touch her and hold her close late at night when, after a long night writing and playing with Nick, the shakes came back. They pushed him out of bed to the baggie he hid in his shaving kit. The first night without her, he resisted.
The second, he gave in.
The next morning they had rehearsals for their show that night at Rave, another medium-sized club outside of LA. Somehow even the tension between him and Jazz didn’t affect the band’s vibe. It helped that the material the spa crew had brought to the table was really good, especially “Nailed.” Jamming together buffed away some of the rough spots. By the end of the session, he and Jazz were even laughing.
He headed back to the cabin to grab his stuff before heading out to Rave in a much better mood than when he’d left that morning. Until his cell rang while he was tugging on that night’s outfit of extremely tight jeans, a leather vest and the new hat Jazz had found for him. He smiled, clutching the hat in one hand while he reached for his phone with the other.
She couldn’t be that pissed if she was still buying him stuff, right?
A quick glance at the Caller ID made his smile fade. He didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
“Gray Duffy. Nice to speak to Oblivion’s rhythm guitarist in the flesh.”
Gray’s shoulders tensed. “Do I know you?”
“No. Not yet. But I know of you.” The male’s voice held a thread of menace made even more potent by its deceptive pleasantness. “You’re a very talented young man. Capable of achieving many things, assuming you don’t stray from the path you’re on.”
“Who the hell is this?”
“Don’t curse at me, boy. Right now I’m the only thing standing between you and a shattered hand. Both hands. That would be truly unfortunate.”
Cricket. Obviously this had to do with her. Christ, how much did he owe altogether? Not a small amount, but not one so large that the spinecrackers should’ve been circling.
Though, fuck, what did he really know about how this crap worked? He’d spent the bulk of his life in frigging Vista View. He’d never even smoked weed in high school. For God’s sake, back then he’d practically been a Boy Scout, and deep down, he probably still was.
He was way, way out of his depth.
“I know you’re looking for money,” he said, running calculations on what was left in his savings account.
So much for trying to hang onto a portion of his money for rent. Not going to happen. He needed to clear his debts, fast. He’d pick up a couple of shifts at the transport company next week once they were done at the cabin. That would help. And maybe he could take one of his spare guitars down to the pawn shop. He hated to do it, but better to get rid of one of them than to look over his shoulder constantly.
As for what he’d do without the access to blow, well, he’d just have to ration what he had left, that was all. He wanted to cut back. Hell, he had to, if he intended to have Jazz in his life. So he’d just start limiting himself now—
The other man chuckled. “Money, yes. But I’m guessing you don’t have a lot of access to that right now. Something you do have is a very pretty girlfriend.”
Gray’s throat closed and he sank to the mattress, crushing the hat Jazz had bought him against his thigh. “I don’t have a girlfriend.” His voice came out shakier than he’d planned so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Don’t know where you’re getting your information, man, but it’s all wrong.”
“Oh, really? So that sweet little drummer girl you were kissing onstage the other night at your concert, she’s just a friend, right? Doesn’t matter at all to you.” He lowered his voice. “So you won’t mind if I—”
“Don’t. Just don’t.” He could barely breathe through the ice coating his lungs. “Look, I’m going to get you your money. Cricket told me I needed to get her a third of what I owe her.”
“Try half, asshole. And the rest better not be far behind, or I won’t be making phone calls to communicate.”
“Okay, okay, half. Just give me time to get it together. I promise you’ll get what you’re owed, but you gotta give me the space to make it happen. Oblivion’s management is intense. They watch us like hawks.”
“They aren’t the only ones watching you. Don’t make me regret giving you more time.” The other man clicked off, leaving Gray staring at the phone.
Christ. This couldn’t be happening.