Rough Rhythm: A Made in Jersey Novella (1001 Dark Nights)(9)

Sarge grinned, displaying the reason his face ended up on countless magazine covers. “Ah, it’s fine. You’d be interrupting that no matter when you showed up.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Sargeant, but you’ve turned into a smug bastard.”

He threw a proud look over his shoulder, sending a smiling Jasmine snuggling into the couch cushions. “If a man wasn’t smug over landing that woman, he’d be an idiot.”

An ache formed so quickly in Lita’s chest, she sucked in a breath. “Yeah, well. I’m trying to make my own bastard look smug. You want to help me out with that?”

Sarge’s expression lost its humor. “I don’t know where James is, if that’s why you’re here.” He crossed his arms and leaned on the doorframe. “What happened between you two?”

Lita’s laugh sounded full of liquid. “I wouldn’t even tell you after a bottle of tequila.” She pushed past her bandmate into the house, heading straight for the kitchen. “Speaking of tequila, where is yours?”

“Cabinet above the toaster,” Jasmine said, her voice muffled.

“Thanks.”

Lita busied herself pouring the golden liquor into a coffee cup while Sarge went and put on a T-shirt. When he joined her in the kitchen, she’d already knocked back two shots. Sarge took a seat on a barstool, while watching her with obvious concern. “So it’s true. He’s stepping down as manager. I honestly thought he was screwing with me.”

“So you have talked to him.”

Sarge shook his head. “Voicemail. He doesn’t answer when I call back.”

Tears pressed behind Lita’s eyelids, pissing her off. Goddammit. She’d never cried this many days in a row, including the week she’d binged on Grey’s Anatomy while driving through Europe on the tour bus. “Do you know where his family lives?”

“I don’t even know if he has any family.”

Lita tossed back another two fingers of tequila. “How do we know exactly nothing about him after four years?”

Sarge scrubbed a hand over his face. “Maybe that’s how he wants it, Lita.”

“That’s not how I want it.” When her voice broke, she closed her eyes. “Please, you have to help me find his big, dumb face. I can fix this.”

Her bandmate reached out, setting his big hand atop her head. “You know we’ll do everything we can.”

“Thanks,” Lita mumbled, shrugging free of her friend’s comforting gesture. She didn’t want to be comforted or soothed. It would only be temporary until she found James and filled in the massive crater he’d left gaping in her middle.

Jasmine came into the kitchen, walking right into the crook of Sarge’s outstretched arm, as if they’d been apart way too long. “Don’t you have security guards who travel with Old News to shows?” The gorgeous ex-factory worker split a look between them. “A lot of those guys are ex-cops. Maybe they can help?”

For the first time in days, Lita felt the blessed spark of hope. “That might actually work. If someone else does that favor asking.” She plunked the empty coffee mug into the sink. “They all hate me because I’m always ordering the crowd to mosh for their lives. Doesn’t exactly make their job easy.”

“No, I wouldn’t think so,” Jasmine said, obviously fighting laughter. “I can help make the calls. James helped get me to Sarge when I almost lost him. I’d love to return the favor.”

After that, there was no one in the room but Sarge and Jasmine. The lead singer looked like he might organize a sacrifice of himself on an altar to the gods just to thank them for creating his girlfriend. Jasmine couldn’t stop staring at his mouth. And yeah…they were seconds from boning on the kitchen island, so Lita shoved the bottle of tequila into her purse and skirted past them toward the front door. “I’ll be down on the beach getting shit faced when you guys are done.”

Once outside, she took a fortifying breath and slipped the cell phone from her back pocket. She couldn’t sit still and wait for other people to help her anymore. Something had to be done now before she went crazy. Maybe just then, buzzed on tequila and emotionally drained wasn’t a good time to start owning up to her mistakes and acting like an adult, but time kept passing, passing, passing without James, and that felt like a horrible travesty. A waste of valuable minutes.

It was time to take control of her own life. Her own fate. No one was responsible for Lita’s happiness but her.

She went down to the beach and started making calls.





James sat outside the hospital, hands clasped between his splayed legs. He’d left his cell phone back at his roadside motel in an effort to allay temptation. For so long, he’d had the device holstered like a six-shooter, ready to draw if someone needed him. No, not just someone. Lita. He felt naked without news of her right at his fingertips. Several times since driving back to his hometown of Modesto, he’d checked the gossip websites and police blotters, praying nothing about Lita would show. His habits were firmly ingrained and he couldn’t trust himself yet to stay away should she land in hot water.

So far, there had been nothing, apart from news agencies following up on her recent arrest and subsequent release from jail. She hadn’t called or emailed, telling him he’d finally succeeded in scaring her off.