Play (Stage Dive, #2)(68)

“You know what,” said Jimmy, yelling to be heard over the music.

Mal spread his hands expansively. “Jimbo, I’m a man of many, many talents, but reading your f*cking mind ain’t one of them.”

“What’s going on with Lori?”

Ev’s gaze darted to mine. I didn’t know any more than she did. Still.

“You on something, Jimbo?” asked Mal, sitting forward in his seat. “Tell the truth now.”

“Don’t be an *.” David leaned his elbows on the table, staring furiously at Mal. “We care about her. She’s lost a shitload of weight. Looks like a breeze could blow her away. You and Neil never take your eyes off her. You know exactly what Jimmy’s talking about.”

I could almost hear Mal grinding his teeth.

“We have a right to know,” said Jimmy.

David sucked in his cheeks. “C’mon, man. Just tell us.”

Shit. Mal went rigid in his seat beside me and then he started rocking. We needed to leave.

I placed my hand on his arm. He vibrated with tension. I didn’t know how to comfort him, but I had to try. “Mal?”

He shook me off without so much as a glance.

“She had a flu or something,” said Mal. “That’s all. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

Jimmy shot forward in his seat. “It’s more than that. Don’t you f*cking lie.”

“This is what’s been messing with your head, isn’t it?” asked David. “Lori’s sick. Real sick.”

“I don’t know what you two are talking about.” Mal’s laughter was a horrible thing. “This is ridiculous. Jimmy here’s probably back to f*cking freebasing, but what’s your excuse, Davie?”

Lena pushed out of her seat. She grabbed the remaining half-full pitcher of beer and threw it in Mal’s face. Foamy cold liquid splashed me, and Mal snapped back in surprise.

“What the f*ck?” he roared, rising quickly out of the chair.

Across from him, Jimmy shot to his feet as well, shoving a belligerent Lena behind him. Everyone stopped, all conversation in the bar falling silent. The few quiet drinks plan had clearly fallen to shit.

“Don’t you yell at her,” said Jimmy, hands curled into fists.

Mal’s shoulders heaved. The two men faced off across the table, both clearly furious. Slowly, Ben and David got to their feet. This was all going to hell in a handbasket.

“Mal, let’s go,” I said. “Give everyone a chance to cool off.”

Again, he ignored me.

“Walk away, bro,” said Ben, voice eerily calm.

Beer dripped from Mal’s hair. The front of his shirt was soaked. From behind us came a flash of light. A guy stood with his phone, taking pictures. Asshole.

Without another word, Mal turned and bolted for the stairs, almost sending a girl carrying a bottle of something flying. I just stood there stunned for a moment, useless and stinking of beer. Ben and Sam took off after him.

“Anne, let us handle it,” said David.

David and Jimmy both left too, jogging up the small, dark stairwell. Like hell I was doing as I was told.

Mal had left his jacket over the back of his seat. He’d freeze out there. I picked it up and a hand grabbed my wrist. Ev’s hand.

“Please, give them a chance to talk,” she said, getting in my face. “Those guys have been together a long time.”

I picked up my purse and held his jacket to my chest. “No.”

“But–”

I didn’t have time for this shit. What I needed to do was to find Mal and see if he was all right.

I rushed up the stairs, past the ground-floor bar and out the door. The cold night air chilled me, courtesy of the wet patches on my sweater and jeans. My heart beat double-time. Shit. There was no sign of any of them in either direction. His black Jeep was gone from across the street. They could be f*cking anywhere by now.

“Shit.”

What to do? Where to go? Maybe he’d headed back to the hotel. Yes, of course. A cab cruised by and I held out my arm. Far too damn slowly, it pulled to a stop.

I threw open the back door and climbed in. “The Benson, please.”

I’d find him.





CHAPTER TWENTY


The text from Ev came at quarter to eleven. I’d been wide awake, staring at the ceiling because staring at the walls had gotten old. He hadn’t come back to the hotel. I’d been waiting for over half an hour.

Ev: Lauren gave me your number. The guys talked things out with Mal then he took off again. They don’t know where to.

Anne: Ok

Ev: Do you know where he might be?

Anne: If I find him I’ll let you know

Ev: Thanks



He might have been driving around town. But far more likely, if he was still worked up, he’d want to take it out on his drum kit.

I took a cab. Money might be tight, but I wouldn’t be waiting for him to come to me any longer. Hopefully David and co. had talked him down, calmed him. Now it was time to play my part, whatever that might be. I sat in the backseat, trying to think up speeches. All in all, I was out of wise words.

A hazy drizzle began to fall from the sky as I arrived at the practice hall. My breath misted in the cold. Ah, Portland. It never disappointed. Best weather ever. Mal’s Jeep sat parked next to the building. Thank god, he was here.