Jet
Page 31

 Jay Crownover

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“Everything. The instruments, the recording equipment, all of it. It’s like someone backed up a truck and cleaned the place out. I called the cops, and the rest of the guys in the band, but you need to get down here since you’re the owner and everything is in your name.”
I shoved my free hand through my hair and grabbed my keys. Ayden snatched them out of my hand and shook her head. She mouthed “I’ll drive” at me and pushed me out the door. Luckily, Cora was still down for the count, because I didn’t have the time or the inclination to explain why we were running out of the house like my bed was on fire.
“Tell the cops the entire building is alarmed, and there are also security cameras, if that helps.”
I saw Ayden cut me a look out of the corner of her eye that I couldn’t read, but I was too busy tallying up the total loss of equipment in my head. The instruments alone were close to twenty grand, but the recording equipment and all the high-end gear that went along with it easily tripled that number. I didn’t even want to start thinking about trying to replace everything in a pinch we would need to replace in order to go on tour. The idea made my blood boil and red streaks flash before my eyes. If it was my dad, there was nothing in the world that was going to stop me from burning his entire world to the ground and dance on the bare, bloody bones of our relationship.
I heard Von repeat the information I had just given him and heard someone close by in the background swear long and loud.
“The cops want to know if everything was insured.”
I snorted and tugged at my hair in frustration. “Of course it is. Even metal heads need insurance.”
That startled a laugh out of him and I sighed because I was suddenly exhausted.
“It doesn’t matter, though. We’re going to need to replace all of our stuff, at least to make the tour.”
“We can use backup equipment if we have to.”
“No. We committed to the tour, committed to be a solid opening act in order to make Artifice a worldwide name, I’m not going to let Dario down. We’ll just get new shit.”
“Can we afford it?”
“Probably not, but it is what it is. I’ll see you in a minute.”
I looked over at Ayden and noticed that she was worrying her bottom lip something fierce. She must have seen me studying her, because she looked back at me and forced a smile that I didn’t buy for a second. She was back to being all smoke and shadow, and the Ayden I was getting to know, the one I was pretty sure I was falling in love with, was gone, and in her place was this girl who was looking at me like we were merely strangers.
“You don’t have to stick around. Just drop me off and I’ll have one of the guys give me a ride when I’m done with the cops.”
She didn’t say anything, but I noticed her hands tighten on the steering wheel and I would have given anything to know what was going on inside that overly complicated mind of hers.
“I bet you a million dollars my dad is behind it. He’s pissed that we have to go to court, that I just didn’t give in and give him what he wanted. This is probably his way of getting back at me and for once it’s pretty damn effective.”
“You have security cameras?” The question sounded strained.
“Yeah. That equipment is expensive and the instruments are top of the line, plus I sometimes have other bands’ gear stored there so I always try to keep it safe. Why?”
She wouldn’t look at me but her mouth was pulled in a frown that looked like it hurt. I almost wanted to forget the cops and make her drive us somewhere quiet and secluded so I could force her to talk to me, but that wasn’t realistic. She shrugged and continued to worry her lip.
“Just asking. I didn’t realize how much it was all worth.”
I blew out a long breath and shoved the heels of my hands into my eye sockets.
“It’s not just some hobby, some band that I jam with on the weekends. It’s my job, my livelihood, Ayd. Of course I took steps to protect it.”
We lapsed into a tense silence. I didn’t know what to say to her, and I was too wrapped up in all the nasty stuff swirling under my skin that I didn’t want to lash out and make whatever was going on worse. When we pulled up in front of the studio, the building was lined with cop cars, and all the guys in the band were standing out front looking both pissed and frustrated. I put my hand on the handle of the door and flinched when her soft hand landed on my arm before I could climb out of the Jeep. Those topaz-colored eyes were as hard as the precious stones they resembled, and I knew before she said anything that whatever waited for me in that studio was going to be nowhere near as devastating as whatever she was going to say next.
“I’m so sorry, Jet. Whatever this is or isn’t, I can’t do it. This . . . It just isn’t working for me anymore. It doesn’t feel like a moment-to-moment thing anymore and I can’t handle that.”
I could have made it easy on her, just let it go. After all, we weren’t in a relationship, but I was feeling raw and split open and she had some fucking badass timing to pull this now. I narrowed my eyes at her and shook her hand off.
“Yeah right, Ayd. You should be sorry for the simple fact that I can get you off and a douche bag in a sweater vest can’t.”
I saw her grimace, and she whispered my name like I had hit her. I held up a hand and shoved the door open.
“Just don’t. Don’t tell me whatever reason you managed to cook up after last night, because whatever it is, we both know the real reason, the real problem is that you won’t even entertain the idea of letting me in. That’s just fucked up because I could have fallen in love with you. Hell, I probably already did. I have shit to take care of, so I guess I’ll see you around.”
She didn’t say my name again, and I didn’t look back, but I sure as hell took massive amounts of pleasure in slamming the door shut behind me hard enough to make the entire machine rock on its chassis. Von and Catcher walked over to me, and I refused to look over my shoulder when she pulled out of the parking lot. There was a hole in my chest that Ayden had left behind. Her rejection creating a wide-open place for all that fire and burning emotion I tried so hard to control to escape from. The irony was that the only person who had ever offered any relief from the heat, and any escape from the blaze, was the one who had ripped it open and released it all. Ripped it open and left it gaping, for all that awful venom to flow into the world.
We spent hours trying to put a list together of all the lost gear for the police. They pulled the security footage and I told them not to be surprised if the image of the thief was my dad. I told them I wanted whatever charge they could come up with pressed against him. The rest of the band was stressed out and were getting on my already frayed nerves, so I shooed them off with a promise to take care of everything while I waited for the insurance adjuster.
It sucked having time to turn things over and over in my head. I had known the deal with Ayden wasn’t a permanent thing, but I still felt like she had pulled my heart out of my chest and handed it back to me after deciding she had no use for it. Moment to moment my ass, it was more than that, always had been, and I never should have let her distract me from having that conversation in the car the night before. I wasn’t sure why her switch had flipped so suddenly; all I knew was that it hurt and I felt like she had pulled further away from me than she’d ever been.
It wasn’t fair to either of us. There had been so much tension, so much attraction, that I should have known all along that just sex was never going to work out between us. But something told me that if all those months ago, I had just taken her up on her offer, I wouldn’t be in this mess now. If I had gotten her when those defenses were down, there was a chance I could have gotten under the wall before she built it back up. Now it was too late, and I was just going to have to focus on figuring out the current mess and act like yet another woman I cared so much about hadn’t picked something else in life besides me.
By the time the adjuster finally showed up, I had worked myself up into a state of vibrating rage. I was pretty sure the guy was terrified to walk into the empty building with me, but considering it was his job, he didn’t have a choice. All that was left of my gleaming and shining equipment was a tangle of useless black cords and the swivel chair I sat on in the booth. The pictures of the band and the posters used to decorate the walls hung haphazardly and a lone Coors Light can was on its side, leaking onto the floor. The studio was empty and hollow and looked like a dump, and totally reflected how I was feeling inside.
After emailing a bunch of pictures I had of the instruments and the recording equipment on my phone to the adjuster, who couldn’t get away from the murderous vibes I was throwing off fast enough, I slowly paced back and forth in the stark and empty space while rubbing my temples. All I could see was the barren landscape, and all I could feel was the place inside that was hot and smoldering in a dangerous way.
Before I knew what happened, something at the core of me broke loose. It was like when I had witnessed my mom with the black eye, only this time it was my future that was broken and battered. It was the one thing I had ever loved that had unconditionally loved me back, and it had fallen at the hands of some unknown abuser as well. I let out a scream that bounced off the walls, and picked up the only furniture left in the place and hurled it through the glass that surrounded the recording area. A million shards cascaded all over the floor and tinkled against my ears. I pulled all the remaining pictures off the walls, tore the posters down, and reopened all the wounds on each and every knuckle until blood dripped off the tip of each finger. I kicked the Coors Light can across the floor, spilling stale beer in every direction and I tore all the cords and plugs out of the wall and threw them into a pile on the floor. I made a mess. By the time I was done I was panting and sweating, and the fury that was scorching inside me had subsided to a manageable level. I wanted to hit something, to tear someone apart, so I put my hands on my knees and bent over to catch my breath before the heat burned my vision black.
I don’t know how long I was like that, but when a low whistle echoed through the now-barren space, it startled me enough that I jerked and whirled around ready to fight. Rowdy had his hands in the pockets of his jeans and those ocean-colored eyes were sympathetic as they roamed the devastation, made worse by my current state of freak-out.
“What are you doing here?”
I didn’t mean to sound surly and ungrateful, but it was the crap day to end all crap days and I didn’t have one ounce of play nice anywhere in me at the moment.
“Ayden called me. She gave me the rundown. She thought you might need a friend, or someone to box with. I’m here to fill either roll.”
I swore at him and finally just collapsed on the floor. Some of the broken glass from the booth poked into the denim covering my legs but I couldn’t muster up the energy to care.
“She also tell you that she bailed on me? Left me hanging because it is what it is and she doesn’t want it to be anything anymore?”
He was looking around, taking everything in, and I could tell by the set of his mouth that he knew how bad it was, how hard it was going to be to pull everything together before the tour.