Smolder (The Road to Rocktoberfest 2024)

29. Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Twenty-nine

Skyler

I walked off the stage at Gaslamp after Accidental Fire finished their four-song set. I wanted to find a bed and sleep forever, but I had the set with From the Ashes, which seemed to get longer every fucking show. I was mentally and physically exhausted.

I’d been getting text messages I hadn’t told Sandy or River about. How someone got my phone number, I didn’t know, but they’d threatened to burn down my house if I wasn’t going to use it. I was scared shitless.

Mom wasn’t really talking to me because of Regal and his bullshit, but that was fine. I was heading back to West Peoria on Monday, and Sandy was coming with me. I hoped to hell nothing happened before I got there. I loved my little bungalow.

Accidental Fire’s set had been great, and I was in dire need of an energy drink, a damp towel, and a fresh shirt before I went back on the stage with From the Ashes. The good thing about playing with both bands was my biceps looked stellar, though not as good as Sandy’s. I wasn’t sure if they ever would, but when I wrapped my arms around Sandy’s neck to kiss him, he kissed each muscle before he met my lips.

A young guy walked by with a bucket of drinks. “Hey, sorry. May I have a Green Monkey energy drink?”

“You are?” I wanted to tell him to fuck himself with that goddamn attitude, but that would be Regal’s way of handling business, not mine.

“I’m the drummer, Skyler Ashe.”

The guy nodded and took off. He dropped the bucket on a table behind the stage and went to the bar. I stepped into one of the dinky-ass closets they called a dressing room to freshen up.

I went to the toilet and took a piss because I’d been downing water during the performance because the fucking club was too hot. Finally, I tugged off the T-shirt I was wearing before washing my hands. I grabbed a cloth and washed my face, chest, arms, and pits.

There was a From the Ashes T-shirt hanging on a rack that I was sure was meant for me, but I wasn’t wearing that just to give my father the satisfaction of having me wrapped in his brand. The longer I spent time around Regal Ashe, the more I despised the man, and my mother’s submission to him upset me. I hated it, but I did respect that she was living her own life and it wasn’t my business.

“Mr. Ashe, I have your drink.” The young man knocked on the door, and when I opened it, he held out a tray with the drink I’d requested and a glass of ice. It was exactly what I wanted.

“Thank you. What’s your name so I can tell your boss you were expeditious and polite?” Hey, I wasn’t a total asshole.

“My name is Perry, Mr. Ashe. I was glad to be of service.” He did this odd bowing thing before he walked away. Maybe it was part of his contract? How the fuck would I know?

I guzzled the energy drink from the glass, turning the T-shirt with the From the Ashes logo inside out. I found a pair of scissors on one of the tables and cut the arms off it, and then I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a blue bandanna, soaking it in the icy remnants of the drink before I tied it around my neck. I was ready.

I took a deep breath and walked out of the small room and down the hallway to the stage, where everyone was waiting as the adjustments were made. I’d be relieved when my family obligation was met and I was free. There was a reason I’d moved to the Midwest.

Sandy stepped up behind me and kissed my cheek as he massaged my shoulders. “You okay, teach?”

I turned my head. “I’m ready for this to be done. What are your plans for the future, Sandy?”

It wasn’t ideal to ask that question at that particular moment, but I needed to know if we were headed in the same direction. I needed to know if I was more than just a summer fucking fling or if we had a real future and what it looked like.

“I’m going back to West Peoria with you. I want to be with you, Sky. We’ll figure out the rest of it as we go, but we are going to make a beautiful life.” A kiss on my lips sealed the deal.

“Ladies and gentlemen, From the Ashes.”

Regal, Ripper, Ace, and Dusty jogged out on the stage, waving and bopping around for the crowd. I wasn’t sure if it was to get themselves psyched for the performance or prove to the audience that they were still alive. I came out behind them and sat behind Regal’s drum kit.

I still hated that my old kit had been smashed at Sandy’s place. The cops were no closer to figuring it out than the West Peoria police were at finding who broke into my house.

I sat down on the stool, and the lights were blinding me a little, but I held the sticks in front of me and counted off. “One-two-three-four.” I came down on the tom-toms instead of the crash cymbals, but Ripper, Ace, and Dusty began playing ‘Man for the Job.’ one of their old songs.

I kept up, but my head was foggy. We played the set, and when we got to ‘Bury Me’, my head spun even more. We got through the song, and as I stood to follow the band off the stage, I stumbled.

I fell off the riser and heard the crowd gasp before I threw up, which seemed endless. I tried to crawl off stage, but everything went black.

“There were small traces of cyanide in his system.” I didn’t know that voice.

“What the fuck is that?” I knew that voice—my Sandy.

“It’s a poison. Tasteless. Odorless. It’s hard to detect, and it can kill someone if enough small doses are ingested. The amount in Mr. Ashe’s system wasn’t enough to kill him, but it was enough to make him violently ill.”

“Someone poisoned him?” Sandy sounded frantic, and I was finally able to open my eyes.

Sandy was next to me, and he appeared to be freaked out. “Baby, are you okay?” Sandy kissed my hand before he kissed my lips and brushed his thumb across my forehead.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

“What in the world happened?” Sandy asked as he brushed his fingers over my hair.

“I had an energy drink between sets, and I started to feel sick while I was playing. Throwing up and passing out is all I remember.”

A nurse came in and took my vitals. After she left, I turned to Sandy. “Do you think my father is involved in any of this?”

Sandy stared at me and finally exhaled. “I don’t know, babe. I want to say no, but I can’t deny things seem to be pointing his way. Go to sleep, okay. We’ll figure this out.” I nodded and closed my eyes.

Sandy and I flew back to Illinois for a few days after I was released from the hospital so I could oversee Christine taking over the marching band camp. We’d spoken on the phone after the poisoning incident, and she’d agreed to take a stab at it. I knew my kids liked and trusted her, but I wanted them to see she had my blessing so they’d listen to her.

I had tried to track down Petey Ritter, but I hadn’t had any luck. Rich knew, but he wasn’t able to tell me because Petey was a minor. Hopefully, Petey would be back to school at West Peoria and I could catch up with him then.

The folks at Gaslamp had told the police they had no one on staff named Perry, and I hadn’t been able to identify anyone who resembled the guy who’d brought the drink. I’d described the young man, but nobody there knew who he was.

I sat on the bleachers at the football field as Christine worked with the band. She was having difficulty articulating the instructions as I’d written them in my notebook. I walked down the stairs and onto the field, holding up my hands to silence the marching band.

They didn’t know I was back and had been watching, so the cheer when I slowly walked onto the field was unexpected and made my heart smile, figuratively. It was good to know I’d been missed—and then I opened my mouth to chew them out.

“What the heck are you guys doing? This is something we learned last year.” I sounded harsh, but they knew better than to jack around with the choreography we worked on every summer, and there weren’t that many new kids that it should have made such a difference.

I held out my arm for Christine, who stepped closer to me. “Miss Quinton is me , so you need to listen to her. Now, start again.” I helped Christine up on the podium I used to direct the band for halftime shows.

Christine’s back straightened as she seemed to embrace the position as director, as I knew she could do. She had their attention, and they listened to her every instruction. If I ended up in San Jose with Sandy, my kids would be in good shape. Christine could handle them.

August 30 th Thunder Valley Casino, Lincoln, CA

Hardy Boyer had been practicing with Accidental Fire while I’d been in Illinois with Sandy, and according to River, the guy fit in perfectly. JD had found a drum kit at a pawn shop, and they’d all kicked in money to buy it instead of using my father’s kit. I gave Riv my blessing for the decision and sent some money in support.

Sandy sat next to me backstage at the casino, seemingly bored out of his mind. “You don’t have to sit here, you know. You can go out on the floor and play cards or something. They’re just doing a quick run-through.”

“Bullshit. Last time I left you alone, some asshole tried to poison you. No way am I leaving you here alone. I have a hard time staying focused on your safety when I see you play, teach. You have my heart, you know, but I will do my damnedest to make sure you’re safe. I love you, and I won’t lose you.”

He kissed me just as Regal walked up and stood next to us. “Isn’t this cozy? Am I paying you to fuck my son?”

Sandy stood and put his finger on Regal’s chest. “You’re not paying me at all, you asshole. I’m here to make sure your son doesn’t get killed. If I find out you had anything at all to do with this bullshit, I will fucking bury you where you’ll never be found.” It was a clever play on the words from Regal’s song.

Regal turned to me. “What the fuck is he talking about?”

“Someone broke into Sandy’s garage and busted up my old kit. Someone broke into my house in Illinois and vandalized it. There was the poisoning episode, and I’ve been getting threatening text messages that someone was going to burn my house down if I didn’t return to it. Trust me, I don’t want to be around you any more than you want to be around me. Get your ass behind the drums, and I’ll be gone.”

Marshall came running up to us from wherever he’d been hiding out. “Harmon Studio wants ‘Bury Me’ and your score for the movie. You beat out five other groups, and Michael Cruz confirmed that the Mastersons want Accidental Fire to play one of the side stages at Rocktoberfest.”

He glanced between Regal and me. “We’re sitting down tonight on the bus after the performance, and we’re working this shit out. Who owns what and how much of a percentage everybody gets.”

Marsh then looked at Sandy. “Since you’ve destroyed any confidence AF has in my ability to look out for them, you will have to act as their manager in this negotiation. I trust you can make sure they don’t get screwed as you accused me of doing weeks ago.”

“You bet your ass I can.” With that, Marshall and my father stomped away. I could hardly wait for the show to be over. No, what I really wanted was for the whole nightmare to be over and to be back home in my bed with Sandy.

I was headed to the bus to fight over the song and soundtrack I’d worked on most of the summer. When we got back to San Jose, we were flying home so I could prepare for the new school year that began after Labor Day since I’d be in San Francisco to play at The Fillmore.

After that performance, I was out. Hardy had straightened himself up and was doing a great job with the music AF was working on, even pitching in to provide lyrics to some of the melodies Arlo was writing. They were becoming a band, and it was nice to witness.

Both bands were on the bus, along with Marshall, Sandy, and Clancy, who was there to keep things civil, I was assuming. He sat in the driver’s seat, watching all of us in the rearview mirror with an authoritative eye. I wouldn’t fuck with the guy, for sure.

Marsh and Regal sat across from Sandy and me, Marshall’s laptop in front of him. He handed out stapled sets of pages to everyone. “Okay, here’s a standard contract. We’re not leaving until this is worked out, so be reasonable.”

Dusty stood from his seat next to Ripper. “Before we start this bullshit, I want to announce I’m retiring for good. It’s not fun anymore, and watching these kids as they work out their shit reminded me of how it used to be for us. Now, it’s all about the money, and I’ve got enough to take me to the grave, so I quit.”

I was shocked, but the expression on Regal’s face told me he’d been blindsided, which gave me an idea. Sandy would probably say I was nuts, but I had everything I needed, including my football player, and the life we were making was all I wanted.

“I’m done too.” Ripper stood and walked off the bus.

“Me too. It’s not fun anymore.” Ace was out behind him.

Tony French, who played bass and never spoke an unnecessary word, stood. “I find the draw of Montana to be more than I can resist. I’ll send a forwarding address, and regarding the rewrite of ‘Bury Me’ and anything coming from the studio using the song, Reg, man, you can have my cut. I know I speak for the others when I say those kids did a much better job with that song than we could have done, and I believe it’s best to use their version for the studio. Sky should get anything coming from the soundtrack if the studio uses it, and that’s all I have to say in the matter.”

I glanced at Sandy, who smirked. “I thought he was saving his voice for singing. I don’t think I’ve heard him say more than two words the whole time I’ve been around.” I nodded, and we both chuckled.

Sandy exhaled. “Looks like it’s just you, Regal. What’s it going to be?”

My father, the cocky asshole who believed he could rule the world, had just been abandoned by his band. I could only imagine the shit they’d been through with him, and as men in or near their sixties, they’d finally had enough. “Fuck it. I’ll license the song to Accidental Fire, and they can record it for the movie. I want a songwriter’s cut of the royalties, and I won’t go after Sky for the adaptation of the soundtrack. As far as my monetary situation goes, it’s my own fault, and I’ll figure it out. Marshall, you’re fired because we can’t afford to pay you anymore, so maybe you should negotiate with those kids to represent them as a good agent should.”

He stood and walked off the bus. My heart was in my throat, but relief coursed through me to the point I leaned on Sandy.

Marshall stared at me. “Okay, what about Accidental Fire? Will you guys let me represent you?”

I pointed to where the guys were sitting on a couch on the opposite side of the bus. “Talk to them. I’m not a member of the band.”

I nudged Sandy, and we got off the bus to allow the band and Marshall privacy to see what they could come up with. I wished them well.

Regal walked over to where Sandy and I stood. “Look, I’m sorry I’ve behaved like such an asshole. I swear, I had nothing to do with any of those things you told me about earlier. You didn’t tell your mom what was going on either. Why?”

I shrugged. “I see you guys twice a year. You all have your own lives, and I have mine. I talk to River on occasion, and now it seems I have another brother I didn’t know about, so I’ll make room for him in my life, but you, Mom, and Jeanne have enough of your own shit to work out without me piling on.”

Sandy put his hand on the back of my neck. “I’m here for Sky now. We’re figuring our shit out, and how dare you disrespect him by asking if you were paying for me to fuck him.”

Mom, who was sitting with other significant others of the band, shot out of her seat and barreled toward us. I thought she was coming for Sandy, so I stepped in front of him. When she stepped up and slapped my father across the face, I was shocked.

“How dare you say something so disgusting, Regal. Skyler is our son, and you were absent most of his life. I had to be his mother and father. Don’t you dare make a derogatory comment about him or his partner.”

Mom had that hand cocked to slap him again when Clancy flew off the bus and shot around the front. There was a loud scream before Sandy ran around the bus, and like a moron, I followed.

Sandy had a pistol aimed at the guy Clancy had on the ground. I was shocked. I didn’t know he carried a gun. We’ll talk about that later.

Clancy ripped the hood off his captive’s head to show a guy about River’s age with dark-blond hair. He was wearing earbuds, and in his right hand—beneath Clancy’s boot—was a knife.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” Sandy’s hand holding the pistol was shaking hard, so I reached over and took the gun before he accidentally shot someone. I saw the safety was on, which was good, so I put it on top of the rear tire of the bus so I didn’t accidentally shoot someone.

“Lemme up, goddammit! I wasn’t doing anything.”

“Drop the knife, or I’ll crush your fuckin’ hand.” Clancy was speaking through gritted teeth he was so angry. I wasn’t surprised when the knife hit the parking lot.

When Sandy jerked the guy up, I saw it was Perry, the guy who had tried to poison me. “That’s him. That’s the guy who gave me the energy drink in Long Beach.”

By then, we’d drawn quite a crowd, but I didn’t care. “Why’d you try to kill me?”

Perry chuckled. “Kill you? I barely gave you enough to make you sick, you pussy.”

“Why?” Sandy wrenched Perry’s arm higher up his back, and the guy grunted in pain.

“I’m Petey’s older brother. Because of you, he’s in foster care until he turns eighteen next year. I was in jail when Gram died, and I couldn’t get to him fast enough. He told me you’d let him stay with you until his birthday like you did when Gram was in the hospital two years ago, but you were nowhere to be found. I thought if we got you to go back to West Peoria, you could be his guardian until I can leave California when my probation finishes.”

“Call the police, someone.” Clancy grabbed the guy and dragged him around the side of the bus, shoving him to sit on the stairs.

I pushed my way to the front to talk to him. “Why did Petey pawn his guitar?”

Perry sighed. “To pay for my lawyer. I got caught in a drug sting in San Francisco, possession with the intent to distribute. I was just the courier, so I was given a lesser charge and sentenced to six months in jail and a year’s probation because it was my first offense. I can’t leave the state, so when Gram died, I couldn’t be there for the funeral or to take care of Petey. Nobody would tell Petey where you were, so when that video showed up on the school’s website and you posted the band’s schedule, we decided to scare you into going back to West Peoria.

“Petey's staying in Peoria with a Baptist preacher and his family who are trying to beat God into him. I told him to break into your house so you’d come home to check on it, but that preacher caught him sneaking back in, and I haven’t talked to him in weeks. I had to get you to go back to Illinois to check on him.”

I had completely dropped the ball on Petey. This mess was all my fault.

Before I could say anything else, the police showed up, and Perry was taken into custody. Sandy and Clancy explained to the cops that Perry was planning to slash the tires on the bus and Clancy saw him in the bus’s rearview mirror. They explained the other things we believed Perry had done. Sandy gave them the numbers of the other law enforcement agencies involved in San Jose regarding the drum kit, West Peoria where my house was broken into, and Long Beach where Perry poisoned me.

We all had to stay the night because it was late, so the band members went to a hotel nearby instead of going back home, and we slept on the bus. Or rather, the others slept on the bus and I sat in the booth, unable to sleep.

Clancy sacked out on the couch across from me, opening an eye to check on me every now and then. I made Sandy sleep in my bunk because he had to talk about his Glock with the police in the morning, and I wanted him sharp so he didn’t end up with his sexy ass in jail.

And that was how my illustrious career as a rock star ended.

Or so I thought…