Smolder (The Road to Rocktoberfest 2024)

26. Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-six

Sandy

July 13 th San Diego – House of Blues

The luxury motorcoach I rented for Accidental Fire was parked behind the concert venue on Sixth Avenue. The guys and I had ridden to San Diego in it while From the Ashes had flown. It was an in-your-face look at the different stages both bands were in on their career path. At least Accidental Fire wasn’t riding in a beat-up VW bus.

The band and I were sleeping on the bus, while Marsh and From the Ashes were sleeping down the street at the Westin. They’d fly home the next morning while we’d be riding back to San Jose on the bus. Based on the ride down, the guys were excited and didn’t mind being cooped up for so long. I, however, had been going stir-crazy.

Things had been quite tense between both bands the previous night and were shaping up to be even worse tonight. Only Ripper spoke to the guys in Accidental Fire and had even hugged all of them before they took the stage.

“Hello, Judas.”

I glanced over my shoulder to see my brother staring at me. He wore a From the Ashes T-shirt and skinny jeans that were too young for him. They looked great on Goldie and River, but Marsh was thirty-five. It was time to wear big-boy pants.

My guy was sitting behind the drum kit on the stage, waiting for the curtain to open, along with the other band members. Skyler had been working with Accidental Fire—or AF as they called themselves—on a new song. It was one of the songs Skyler had written, and I’d heard it one night months ago. I thought it was great, but my guy was less than pleased with it.

AF wasn’t allowed to play ‘Bury Me,’ but From the Ashes wasn’t capable of playing the new version. They were all at a standoff, and everyone was fucking frustrated, but none more than Marshall because he couldn’t send great reviews of the song to Harmon Studio since the ones from the night before were mediocre at best, giving the old-timers props for performing at their ages.

Sky played with both bands but didn’t sing with either. He didn’t want his voice to set the precedent for either band’s sound. When he said as much to his father, Regal decided to sing with the band and keep Sky playing drums in his place.

“Hello, asshole.” I turned back to the stage. Sky had his eyes closed and was whispering something to himself. I wasn’t sure if he was praying or giving himself a pep talk. I wanted to rush out there and hold him. Give him another smoldering kiss as I had before he took the stage to let him know how much I loved him. I doubted the crowd would appreciate finding me eating my boyfriend’s face when the curtain opened.

“I need to talk to you, Sandy, please.” The pleading in Marshall’s voice had me turning my head again. It was then I noticed he seemed wired. He was fidgety and his pupils were huge. What the fuck was going on?

“What do you want, Marshall?”

We stepped away from the stage and walked over to a small alcove where we could have some privacy. “What the hell is going on with you?”

The harshness in my voice couldn’t be helped. Marshall had been a complete prick for the two weeks Skyler had been practicing with From the Ashes and Accidental Fire at his mother’s rescue farm.

Marsh had harassed Sky every day to sign a contract with From the Ashes, giving them not only the rewrite of ‘Bury Me’, but the score Skyler had written. The contract had an exclusivity clause that he wouldn’t play the song with anyone other than FTA, and Skyler had refused. He’d insisted everyone sit down and hash it out, but FTA refused.

“Please, please, convince Skyler to sign the contract. He’ll be compensated for the work he’s done, and he’ll assign his rights to his father. Skyler and Accidental Fire performed the song without permission at Mountain Fest, and those videos are circulating widely and the identity of the song has shifted from Regal and the guys to Accidental Fire. Alicia is having a fit, so please talk to Skyler.”

I shook my head. “You were fucking there, and you were pushing them to perform it so you could get reviews on the song to send to the studio, Marsh. I heard you say it. You thought at the time you’d signed a new client, but you didn’t want to compensate them for anything because you’re only looking out for yourself. Where did the values that Mom and Dad instilled in us go?”

Was it dirty pool to remind him of how we grew up with two of the most conservative people on the fucking planet? Maybe, but I had skin in the game, and I would fight for Skyler as long as I breathed in air.

“One. Two. One-two-three-four.”

Skyler was tapping out the beat to a New Radicals song they were starting with instead of their old set list, and when Arlo began playing the intro with him, I saw the crowd bobbing their heads in time to the beat.

When the band harmonized on the chorus, the audience stood from their seats and began singing along and dancing. I turned to Marshall. “You can’t deny that those young men are talented. Come on, Marsh. I know your boss is pressuring you but listen to them. They deserve a shot, and you have the power to give it to them.”

“Sandy, Skyler is an incredible musician with a real talent. Without him, those kids are just another garage band hoping to stumble into a break. If Skyler doesn’t commit to playing with Accidental Fire, they have no drummer, and therefore, they’re not a band.”

Something sparked in the back of my mind. “What if they got a new drummer and Sky worked with him?”

Marshall laughed. “Yeah, because drummers are falling off trees, yeah?”

Cocky prick. “What if?”

“You find a drummer the caliber of Skyler, and I’ll do my best. He’ll still need to play with From the Ashes until his dad can play, but I’ll try to sell it.”

I nodded and walked away from him, hoping I could make it work. I knew a drummer who was damn good. I just had to convince his sister to go along with it.

We were on the bus, headed back to San Jose. Sky and I were in one of the bunks, his head on my chest as he slept. I kissed his forehead as I sent a text to Kathleen Graves, the owner of the Baltimore Shuckers. Her wife’s brother was a damn good drummer, from what I remembered.

I rested my head on the pillow as I listened to Goldie and River playing Skyler’s song, ‘I’ll Find You,’ acoustically. It was just the two of them, and it sounded incredible, but I loved it so much more when Sky sang it.

My phone buzzed, and I glanced at the text from Lynette Boyer Graves.

Hi, Sandy. Are you kidding me? You want Hardy in Cali? When and where?

I laughed and responded.

Put him on a plane to San Jose with some clothes to tour with. Give me the date and time, and I’ll pick him up. I’ve got a job for him if he wants it. Baby yet?

She answered with a laughing emoji.

How much do we owe you to take him? He’ll be there tomorrow. Baby coming soon! I’ll be in touch.

I thanked her and tossed my phone on the mattress beside me as we rolled toward San Jose.

The exotic car dealer was coming on Monday morning to pick up two of my cars in exchange for the bus rental, and I truly didn’t give a shit that I’d sold them. We had the bus until the middle of September, and I felt it was a fair trade. The McLaren and the Ferrari weren’t my favorites anyway.

I was determined to help Accidental Fire with their pursuit of making a name in the music industry. I wasn’t a professional at judging bands, but these kids were so damn talented and played with so much heart that they deserved to be recognized for their hard work.

As Clancy Morse, the driver who came with the bus, pulled up my driveway. We were sitting at the tables in the front of the bus, and the guys were chattering about the review from their performance as the opening act for From the Ashes the night before. It was glowing.

Unfortunately, From the Ashes had a less-than-stellar review.

I was looking forward to seeing From the Ashes in concert again because they were one of my favorite bands from my teen years. And they were still a band from my teen years…

I was pretty sure that wouldn’t please Regal and the band. Fuck ‘em.

I leaned into Skyler’s ear to whisper. “I think I have a drummer for you, but you gotta decide if he’ll fit with Accidental Fire. He should be here sometime on Monday. His name is Hardy Boyer, and he’s twenty. What do you think?”

Skyler turned and kissed my cheek. “God, I hope so.”

Monday afternoon, I drove to the airport and picked up Hardy Boyer. His hair was green, and I could imagine Kathleen Graves rolling her eyes. She was about as traditional as anyone I’d met, aside from being married to a woman. Life was filled with surprises.

“Hey, Hardy. Remember me?” I saw him coming through security, and while I didn’t have Marshall’s tablet, I didn’t need it. I knew what the kid looked like.

“Oh, uh, yeah. How you doin’?” He was high, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. I knew Riv and JD smoked. Wasn’t that part of the creative process? Maybe I was being a jerk and generalizing?

“I’m good. How’s your sister?”

“Knocked up.” Well, isn’t he pleasant?

“You got checked bags?” I glanced at his dirty backpack and hoped to fuck he had more clothes with him.

Hardy laughed as he patted the grungy thing. “Nope. I travel light.”

I nodded and headed toward the parking garage. Sky had my Yukon, so I’d brought my Porsche. I wasn’t showing off, but I had a feeling the kid wouldn’t be impressed anyway. His sister-in-law owned a fucking football team.

As I turned onto the road leading to my house, the phone buzzed in the cupholder. It was Skyler. I hit the Bluetooth button on the steering wheel. “Hey, babe. I’ve got Hardy.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m almost home. What’s wrong?” He sounded nervous, and that had me worried.

“Someone broke into the garage and tore up my drum kit. It’s smashed to pieces.” A sense of dread hit me.

“Okay, what about the rest of the equipment?” The guys always had their guitars with them. The mics, soundboard, amps, all that stuff, was stored in a big cabinet that had taken the spot where I’d parked the McLaren. I was glad they were able to use the space and grateful Ripper had made the large cabinet for them and dropped it off.

“They broke the lock on the cabinet but didn’t destroy anything. The problem is, they got into your garage. They busted in the door, somehow, and we didn’t hear anything.”

I sighed. “We’ll be there in about three minutes. I’ll call the sheriff to come out so I can get a report for the insurance company.”

“I’m so sorry this happened. Maybe Riv and I should get a temporary residence? You don’t need this hassle.” His voice was a bit shaky.

“Hang on. We’re coming up the drive now.” I ended the call and sped up. I parked in the circle drive in front of the house and got out, hurrying to where Skyler stood at the entrance to the garage.

“C’mere.” I took him into my arms and held him as I scanned the garage for damage.

The cars were untouched, but Skyler’s old drum set he used for practice at the house was in splinters in the middle of the garage. The cymbals were bent like taco shells, and the stand that held the hi-hat was twisted like a corkscrew.

I pulled out my phone as Skyler wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled his face into my chest. I called 9-1-1 and explained the problem.

“Don’t touch anything, Mr. Kensington. A deputy will be out within the hour.”

Skyler’s phone rang as I was hanging up. He answered it and stepped away. The guys were in the garage, so I stepped closer. “Hey, don’t touch anything. The sheriff’s office is sending someone out to take pictures and shit for insurance.”

River, Arlo, JD, and Goldie walked over to the door where I was standing, all of them looking behind me. I turned to my right to see Hardy with his backpack, staring at the damage.

“Come out here and meet Hardy Boyer. Hardy, this is River Ashe, Skyler’s brother. That’s JD Horn, Goldie Robbins, and Arlo Timmons. Guys, this is Hardy. He’s here to audition to be your drummer, though we seem to be out of drums.”

The guys stepped forward and bumped fists with Hardy, the five of them striking up a conversation about who played what. I left them to it and walked over to where Skyler was pacing.

“Yes, Mrs. Flannery. Thank you, ma’am. Give me the number, and I’ll call to talk to them. Thank you again for calling me.” He looked at me, and I saw the tears. “Take this down. Three-oh-nine…” He spouted off a phone number that I punched into my phone for him.

“Thanks again, Mrs. Flannery. I’ll call them right away. Bye.” Skyler stared at the phone for a moment.

“What’s wrong?” I stepped forward for support, but I didn’t touch him because I didn’t know what he needed.

“Someone broke into my house and trashed it. I mean, it’s a rental, and I don’t have fancy things, but my neighbor, who called the police, said they dumped everything on the floor and cut up my couch.”

Okay, this wasn’t a coincidence. It was beginning to sound a lot like a coordinated effort, and it pissed me off immediately. A car in the driveway caught my attention. I saw an SUV with Santa Clara Sheriff’s Office written on the side. An officer stepped out of the vehicle. I wrapped an arm around Skyler and ushered him toward the deputy.

“Mr. Kensington? I’m Deputy Sloane. You called about a break-in?”

I extended my hand. “Yes, Deputy. This is my—”

My tongue grew in my mouth to the point I couldn’t speak.