A Lush Rhapsody: A Rhapsody Novel (19 page)

* * *

I
’ve just admitted
to Dez that I hired a PI to dig up dirt on Lush and he’s angrier than I’ve ever seen him. Dez doesn’t really get angry, but I have seen it happen a couple of times. Once when some asshole mugged our manager, Shannon, and a second time when a producer we were working with made a really tasteless homophobic joke. It takes a lot to get my boy riled, but I’ve managed to do it this evening, and I don’t have the slightest idea how to get him to calm down and see reason.

“Dude, it’s business. You know that. As much as we all love to play the music, this is still a business, and the
business
that is Rhapsody needs this.”

He slaps a hand against the door of his suite where we were having a drink together—him beer, me soda—and talking over the next few months of band business.

“That’s a fucking load of crap, Blaze, and you know it. How the hell can you even contemplate something like this? What is it you think this PI is going to find?”

So far I’ve managed to hold on to my cool because I’ve felt certain that once I explain it all he’ll come around, but nothing is working, and I’m losing my patience.

“I don’t know exactly what the PI will find, but I know there’s something there. Something that will clench it for us. Look, you’ve said you want to get that Super Bowl slot, we all want it. And you’ve also admitted that Lush is a hell of an opponent. How exactly did you think we were going to beat them? By being prettier?”

“Fuck you.” He flips me off.

“Dez, come on…”

“No, Blaze,
you
come on. You’ve been fucking Tully for weeks. Treating her like she’s your goddamn girlfriend, staying all night in her bed. They put their trust in you, man.
She
put her trust in you. How the hell can you turn around and do this? All over a fucking gig? What the hell is the matter with you?”

My blood pressure rises. “It’s not
a
fucking gig,” I grind out. “It’s
the
fucking gig. Of our lifetimes. It’s the
only
gig.”

“Are you listening to yourself?” His voice is quieter now, and he’s staring at me incredulous. “Do you hate him that much? I knew it was a problem, but I didn’t realize it was this bad. It’s like you’ve got poison swirling around in your heart. You would fuck over this woman who you’re in love with, humiliate a bunch of perfectly decent guys, go against my wishes, all just to beat him? Is your hate so great that you can’t see the love standing right in front of you?”

My throat nearly closes shut and I stare at him, my jaw clenching painfully. “I never said I was in love with her.” My voice is hoarse, like the grinding of gravel in a driveway.

Dez looks at me, his face washed in pity. “Come on, man,” he says softly.

I snap. Because I don’t have to stand here and take this. I don’t need him to tell me who I am, who Tully is to me, the meaning of right and wrong. If he can’t see that the ends justify the means then fuck him.

“Fuck you,” I hiss as I stride to the door.

“Blaze.”

“Go to hell, Dez. You don’t know shit—about me, about him, about Tully.” I swing around, pressing my fist into his breastbone. He doesn’t move, his sad eyes never wavering from mine.

“I’m sorry you think so little of me that you can’t see I have this under control, but that’s not my problem. I’ll do the dirty work—as usual—so that we can seal our destiny as legends in this business. And when you’re bathing in your millions, with your supportive, loving family by your side, and your pristine conscious, you can call me up and thank me for doing the shit that you couldn’t be dirtied with.”

The door slams so hard when I walk out that the walls up and down the hall shake and a couple of the other guests on the floor stick their heads out to see what the commotion is. They take one look at me and duck back into their rooms fast though because I look like what I am right now—the big, bad, devil who crushes people under my feet as I climb my way to the only place that matters. The fucking Super Bowl.

Tully

I
’ve just gotten
out of the shower after rehearsal, and someone is pounding at my hotel room door like an insane person.

“Hold the hell on!” I yell as I try to shimmy a pair of jeans up my slightly damp legs. The pounding continues.

I toss a tank top on over my head, braless, and grab a hoodie that I end up holding in front of me as I open the door with my hair still damp and uncombed.

Dez is standing on the other side, his normally mellow demeanor gone, and in its place worry and panic are spread all over his face.

“Hey…” I mutter, not sure what the hell he’s doing here.

“Is Blaze with you?” he asks, breathlessly.

“No. Why?” A rush of adrenaline spikes in my gut and I almost grab Dez by the shirt and give him a shake because I can tell something’s not right.

He runs a hand through his hair and looks anguished. “We had an argument and he took off—”

“Oh, he’s probably fine.” My blood pressure drops a couple of points. “I’m sure he’ll call you or turn up soon.”

Dez shakes his head. “Tully, he’s an addict. We had a huge blowout, the worst fight we’ve ever had, and he’s been missing for over three hours now. He’s not…” He swallows and I can tell how really frightened he is about this. “He’s not as stable in his recovery as he likes to make out. It’s a constant battle for him. He doesn’t deal with stress well.”

I gesture for him to come in and close the door. My chest is a little tight, and I can feel the rushing sensation of anxiety setting in. “Has he slipped up? Since he got out?”

“Not that I know of,” Dez answers, standing and looking out of the window that overlooks the city lights.

“But he’s come close.” I don’t even ask it. Somehow I know what the answer is, and if I’m honest, I’ve known all along. I’ve known he wasn’t as strong as he likes to pretend. I’ve seen it in his eyes. Last night at my birthday I could sense his tension. Sometimes when there have been parties at the hotel with all the other bands after performances he’s been reluctant to go, and I could see he wasn’t comfortable when he did go.

“Okay, where could he have gone? Did he take security with him?”

“No. I asked our team leader and he said none of his guys were out with Blaze.” He starts pacing the length of the room. “Fuck. How could I have let this happen? I fucking knew better than to take him on like that. I just—I just didn’t want him to do something he’ll regret.”

“What was the argument over?” I ask, wondering what could have gotten both Dez and Blaze so upset. They seem to get along really well.

He darts a look at me, then turns his back quickly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Just some stupid shit about playing the Super Bowl. It doesn’t matter what we fought over, only that he left here in a rage, and now no one can find him.”

“Okay, let me try calling him, maybe he’ll answer for me.”

Dez nods and I grab my phone and text first, then immediately call as well.

I get his voicemail and leave a message asking him to check in with one of us as soon as possible.

“Does he know anyone here in town?” I ask after I end the call. “Anyone he might have gone to see?”

Dez shakes his head. “No.”

My phone buzzes and I snatch it up, my heart beating like a little hummingbird’s. It’s Walsh, and I almost don’t answer, but Dez gives me a chin tip. “Grab it, I can wait.”

“Hey,” I say as I answer. “What’s going on?”

“Tully. We were thinking about going to dinner at this barbecue place that Mike’s all hyped over, you want to come?”

I look at Dez. I’m not sure how many people he wants to know about this, but just like you’d go to your family when you were worried about a friend, I feel compelled to let Walsh know about this right now. I’m scared for Blaze. I need help from people I trust.

“Dez is here with me. We’re worried, Walsh. He and Blaze had a fight and now Blaze has disappeared…” I look at Dez. He’s watching me but not indicating I need to stop, so I forge on. “He’s worried about Blaze’s sobriety. I guess he doesn’t handle stuff like this well. He’s not in as good a shape as everyone might think.”

I hear Walsh sigh on the other end of the call. “No addict ever is, Tully.” Tears are burning behind my eyes now. I wasn’t thinking about Walsh’s alcoholism when I told him.

“Are you in your room?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be right there.” He ends the call and I turn to Dez.

“It was Walsh. He’s coming. Maybe he has some ideas about what we can do?”

Dez nods, seeming beaten by the whole thing. He sits in an armchair and leans his elbows

on his knees.

“I didn’t mean to get on him like I did.” The anguish he’s obviously feeling reverberates in his voice. “I was trying to keep him from destroying everything. He’s finally in a good place, I want him to be happy. But he’s…fuck. He’s really self-destructive.”

There’s a knock on the door and I swing it open to reveal Walsh and Colin.

“Mike and Joss are ordering pizza so that we can all grab food as we need to,” Walsh says striding into the room with the most in-charge look I’ve ever seen on his face. “Let’s make the list and then we can start sending the security staff out to the least likely places and the rest of us will split up for the higher priority spots.”

Dez looks at me confused, but Walsh doesn’t seem to notice as he pulls out his phone and brings up the notes app. Colin walks over and puts his arm around me, pulling me in for a quick side hug as he murmurs, “We’ll find him, don’t worry.”

“Uh, what are you guys talking about?” I ask, shifting my gaze from Dez to Walsh and back again. Dez shrugs to indicate he’s as in the dark as I am.

“I thought you needed to find Blaze?” Walsh says pausing in his flurry of activity.

“Well, yeah. I guess we didn’t know how we were going to do that though.”

Walsh nods before he sits on the sofa, gesturing for me to join him. Colin takes the other armchair.

Walsh talks to both Dez and me. “I’ve had a little experience with falling off the wagon,” he says, a wry smile on his sweet face. “I know the way an addict’s mind works. Let me put that insider knowledge to work for you.”

Dez nods, relief passing over him like a wash of color. “I’d really appreciate it, man. He’s disappeared before, when he was still using, but that was always in L.A. where I knew his haunts and his dealer’s address.”

At the mention of a dealer my stomach twists. It conjures images of seedy apartments with junkies laying on the floor, or gangsters with guns on their belts, drugs laid out on every surface around them.

“Well, as much as I hate to say it, this probably won’t be the last time it happens, so you’ll get better at handling it.” Walsh shakes his head. “It’s not something we want our friends and family to have to know, but the fact is, when you’re an addict, you’re always one moment away from falling, and the people around you have to be ready for it, even as they have to believe that you won’t do it.”

“So what do we do?” I ask, anxious to get started. I’m not going to be okay until we have Blaze back here, safe where he belongs.

Walsh outlines a plan where we look at places Blaze has been in the last two days, along with the kinds of places he tends to go at home—Blaze loves the water for instance—then on to places he’s mentioned wanting to visit. When we’ve got a list together, Walsh asks Dez to go with his gut and pick those places he thinks are most likely. We save those for us, and divide up the other locales between Lush’s security staff and Rhapsody’s.

Within fifteen minutes Walsh has started sending guys out searching like he’s the head of a police investigation or something. My suite becomes
Blaze Search Central
and before long Mike, Joss, Garrett, Carson, and Topher are all there along with ten large pizzas and more soda than I’ve seen in one place outside of when one of my extended family graduates or gets married.

After everyone’s had a chance to scarf some food and the security teams are all out hunting, we look at the remaining locations on the list.

“So Dez, you and the guys want to pick two or three you think are the most likely and head out?” Walsh asks.

Dez looks at the other three and they murmur their assent. He picks his top three places and they start getting their stuff together—it’s summer, but San Francisco is chilly at night, so everyone brought jackets and some of the guys have beanies. In the back of my mind I wonder if Blaze thought to bring a coat with him. I imagine him cold, high, lost in some bad part of the city and my chest gets so tight I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to take another breath.

“Tully?” Joss says softly from across the room. All eyes turn to me. “We’re going to find him. I promise. It’ll be okay.”

I nod quickly as the tears well up in my eyes. Colin puts his arms around me and I take a moment, my face buried in his shoulder, breathing in his scratchy wool scarf and letting his heat envelope me. I take a deep shuddering breath and calm myself before I turn to face all the guys again.

Dez looks at me and there’s something that passes between us. He can tell. How I feel about Blaze. He can tell because he loves him, and well, I think I might love him too. I reach out and squeeze his hand before I tell him, “Go find him. Bring him home.”

“We’re out,” Dez says to the rest of the guys as Carson, Topher, and Garrett nod at everyone and the four of them head out.

“All right,” Walsh says as the door closes. “We’ve got four more places on this list, let’s grab a car and get moving.

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