Rock Hard

Chapter 17

“I looked at some of this last night,” Eric said. “Lots of good stuff here.” He sorted the music into about twenty piles spread from one corner of the large square coffee table to the other. He held his hand out to Sed. “Lyrics?”

Sed handed him his lyrics notebook. He experienced strange jolts of nervousness in his belly as Eric read through the pages.

Eric tore a page out and set it on a stack of music in the center of the table. “You been tormented lately, Sed?” Eric asked. “Lots of angst in here.”

Sed shrugged, feeling self-conscious. His lyrics were always highly personal. It was like exposing his soul to the world.

“The fans will love this.” Eric ripped out another page and handed it to Jace. “Read that.”

Hands on his thighs, Sed gripped the fabric of his jeans to keep himself from snatching the page out of Jace’s hands. This was a hell of a lot easier when he didn’t participate. In the past, he’d just supplied some lyrics and saw the finished products as songs.

“Awesome,” Jace said. “What’s it about?”

Sed took the page from him and read the title. “Sever.” He’d written this after he’d seen a captain go down with his ship in a movie. He’d thought the guy was an i***t. “Cutting ties.”

“Let’s start with that one,” Eric said, setting the notebook aside. “I know just the music for it. Hard and heavy.” He scanned the sets of music on the table, lifted a stack, and set it on his knee. “Here it is. Jace, hand me a guitar. I need to hear it.”

Jace glanced around the room and spotted the acoustic sitting on a stand in the corner. He retrieved it and handed it to Eric. Eric tuned the guitar in Brian’s typical drop D, and then played a few bars of the riff. He didn’t have Brian’s innate soloing skill, but Eric could play. “Yep,” he said, shifting that score to his other knee. He read from the next score and played a few bars of a solo at half tempo. “We’ll make this the bridge.”

“A solo for a bridge?” Jace asked.

“It will work. Brian will love adding embellishments between stanzas. You know how he is.” Eric pulled a pen out of his pocket and scratched out a few lines of music, adding a couple of notes in their place.

“Yeah.” Jace looked awestruck.

Eric rearranged the sections several times and then nodded. “Okay, I’ve got the guitar music worked out. Now we need the bass line.” He glanced at Jace.

Jace jumped to his feet and pulled his bass out of the case behind the leather sofa. Eric pulled two sets of drumsticks out of his pockets. Sed wondered if he had a drum kit in that pocket, too. Eric tapped a rhythm on the table with his sticks. “Match it.”

Jace plugged his bass into a practice amp and strummed a line distinctly Sinners. Yet, more. How had he managed to improve perfection? It struck Sed that they were about to take their music to the next level. With their bassist, of all people.

He glanced at Eric to see if he recognized it too.

“Not bad,” Eric said, nodding in appreciation. Didn’t Eric hear him? The guy was a phenomenon. His sound was so much richer than Jon’s had been, it was as if they didn’t even play the same instrument. They had to exploit the hell out of Jace’s talent on the new album. Eric glanced at Sed. “You ready to sing?”

Off in progressing-our-fame land, Sed started. “Oh yeah. I’m ready.” He cleared his throat. Even though it had been weeks since that bouncer had grabbed him at the strip club, his throat still bothered him. Not so bad that it affected his voice. It just felt different. Achy. Especially when he screamed.

“Like this,” Eric said. He sang the chorus lyrics as he envisioned them.

“ Sever it, never let it take you down.

Sever it, before it takes you under.

Sever it, tied, gagged and bound.

Sever it, no sense in going under.

Let.

It.

Go. ” Eric carried the last note for several measures and stopped tapping the table with drumsticks. “How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” Sed told him.

“Now you sing it.”

“I can’t sing in that octave. You sing it.”

“I’m the drummer, not the singer.”

“You used to be. So sing that chorus and in the background, I’ll scream like this:

Sever.

Severrrrrrrrr.

Severrrrrrrrrrrrr. ” Sed let each roar increase in length and volume.

“Sing it together,” Jace requested, leaning toward them, his bass guitar drooping to around knee level.

“I’m not singing,” Eric insisted. “Helloooo.” He pointed to himself. “Drummer. Drum- mer .”

“Humor him,” Sed said.

Eric rolled his eyes. “I feel like an ass.”

“You are an ass,” Sed insisted with a grin, “but you have the perfect pitch for this chorus. Sing.”

Eric sighed heavily and then sang the chorus, just like before. Sed entered his rumbling screams throughout Eric’s more melodic vocals. When they stopped, they stared at each other in surprise.

“That. Was. Awesome,” Jace said. “Holy s**t. Do it again.”

“I can’t sing, Sed,” Eric said.

“You just did.”

“I don’t have the right stage presence to be a vocalist.”

Sed remembered telling him something like that twelve years ago. You’d think the guy would have gotten over it by now.

“Dude, I’m not handing lead vocals over to you. But there’s no reason you can’t sing that chorus from behind your drums. It sounded excellent.”

“Yeah, excellent,” Jace agreed. “My God, Eric. You’re amazing.”

Sed glanced at Jace. “You’ve got something on your nose.” Sed rubbed his own nose with the side of his finger. “Right there.”

Jace mimicked his motion. “Did I get it?”

“Nope, it’s permanently brown.”

Jace laughed and shook his head. “Jackass.”

Sed glanced at Eric, who had gone unnaturally silent. “Don’t think too hard,” Sed said. “You might hurt yourself.”

“Do you really want me to sing that chorus? I don’t want to infringe upon your territory or anything.”

“As if that’s even a possibility.”

Eric chuckled. “True, that. Okay, I’ve been thinking.”

“Now we’re in serious trouble,” Sed whispered at Jace out of the corner of his mouth.

“No, hear me out,” Eric said. “You used to play violin, right?”

Sed’s nose crinkled. “Yeah, when I was a kid.”

“We should get you an electric violin to add to a couple of songs.”

“What have you been smoking? Must’ve been some good shit.”

“Just try it. I’ll be trying something different. You should too.”

“Do I get to try something different?” Jace asked eagerly.

“No,” Eric said.

Jace scowled.

Before Sed could call Eric a freakin’ retard for not recognizing Jace’s skill, Eric said, “Well, maybe. You should add more embellishments to the bass lines to complement Brian. You’re a better bassist than Jon was. I think you need to push your skill level on the new album. You must be bored as f**k playing that repetitive s**t Jon composed before you signed on.”

Jace beamed and glanced from Eric to Sed and back to Eric. “Okay.”

“Don’t get a swollen head, little man,” Eric said with a thinly veiled grin. “You’ll tip over.”

“Hey, I’ve got muscle and a great center of gravity. Unlike a certain bony drummer.”

Eric laughed, reached across the table, and punched Jace in the shoulder. Sed was glad he’d thought to invite Jace. His drummer and bassist needed to work as a unit. And his rhythm guitarist, currently putting no effort into his recovery, was necessary to bridge lead guitar with percussion and bass.

“I’m going to go call Trey,” Sed said. “He needs to be here a lot more than I do. Lyrics last. Carry on. I’ll be right back.”

“Hey, I can’t wait around here all day. I’ve got s**t to do,” Eric said.

Sed left the studio and picked up the phone in the entryway. Before he could dial the number, Jessica came through the door. When she saw him standing there, she paused and then burst into tears.

He hung up the phone and drew her into his arms. “What’s wrong?”

Jessica stuffed a piece of paper in his hand. “I lost my scholarship.”

“What? Why?” His first thought was they’d found out about their little s*x video. He gazed down at the crumpled paper in his hand and read the first few lines. “Academic probation? Why are you on academic probation?”

“Because Ellington failed me on my final paper, I got a C in Legal Research and Writing last year. A C minus .” She gulped air and sniffed her nose. “To keep my scholarship I can’t get a grade below a B. They usually give the student a chance to retake the class before they strip them of their scholarship award. Especially someone who has A’s in every other class.”

“They aren’t gonna give you another chance?”

She shook her head. “According to this, they had a meeting of the deans and because they had no way to contact me, they took the word of the instructor. She despises me, Sed. No telling what she told them.”

“Why didn’t they just call your cell phone?”

“They still have my old number.” She lifted a hand at him. “Yeah, duh, I know.”

He shrugged. “So, you go talk to the deans and try to get their decision reversed.”

“They won’t listen to me. Dr. Ellington is one of the most respected professors at the university. She carries the dean’s balls around in her pocket.”

“I’m not going to let you give up that easily, Jessica.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not going to let me?”

“Nope.” He took her by the arm. “Let’s go. I’ll drive you to the college right now.”

She jerked her arm out of his grasp. “This is the exact reason why I broke off our engagement. You can’t tell me what to do, Sed.”

“I am telling you what to do. Get in the car.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Get in the car, Jessica.”

“Or you’ll do what?”

He knew exactly what would piss her off most. “I’ll write a check for your tuition and send the receipt to your mother.”

Her jaw dropped. “You wouldn’t!”

“Wouldn’t I?” He lifted an eyebrow at her.

“I hate you sometimes,” she sputtered.

“Only sometimes? We’re making progress.”

“I know what you’re trying to do. You can’t fix this for me, okay? So just butt out of my business.”

“I wasn’t planning on fixing it for you. I was just going to give you a ride to the college and wait outside while you fix it.”

She stared at him as if he’d grown a third eye.

“I can’t fix this,” she said finally. “And I can’t afford another twenty thousand dollars a year for school if I lose my scholarship.” But her expression had turned thoughtful.

“If?” he prodded.

“Maybe if I show the dean my term paper, he’ll recognize that Dr. Ellington graded me unfairly. I didn’t deserve to fail that paper. I know I didn’t.” She scowled, crossing her arms across her chest. She was entirely adorable when she threw tantrums. He doubted she wanted to hear that at the moment, however.

“Good. And if that doesn’t work?”

She sighed loudly. “I’ll take out loans.”

“That’s my girl.” He touched her cheek gently and she glanced up at him.

“You really are an overbearing prick sometimes, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know. I have your best interest at heart, so you forgive me. Right?”

“Heh. Hardly.”

“Yo, Sed, what’s taking so long?” Eric called from the end of the hallway. “Is Trey coming over or what?”

Sed had completely forgotten that he was supposed to call Trey. “Change of plans, dude. I have to go do something with Jessica real quick.”

Eric rolled his eyes and made a sound of annoyance. “You know bands break up because of their singers’ girlfriends for a reason.”

If Eric had been within range, Sed would have decked him.

“Just stay here and finish your session with the guys,” Jessica said. “I’ll go by myself.”

“I said I’d drive you.”

“I can drive, you know.”

“I want to be there. In the unlikely event that you need me.”

She hesitated, then turned on her heel and stalked out to the car. She even let him drive and didn’t pull away when he reached over to take her hand and pressed her knuckles to his lips.

Jessica sank into the leather-upholstered chair across from the dean. She was glad she’d changed into a neat skirt and sweater set when she’d stopped by her mother’s house to pick up her term paper. She needed the self-confidence boost.

Dr. Taylor set his elbows on his desk and folded his hands in front of his chin, assessing her with piercing blue eyes beneath arched gray eyebrows. She imagined he’d been a very attractive man in his youth. Still was in that distinguished older gentleman way.

“How can I help you, Ms. Chase?”

“I received this letter in the mail while I was… out of town. It says the council of deans decided to revoke my scholarship for the upcoming semester.”

“That’s right. Dr. Ellington made it clear that you’re undeserving of such a prodigious award.”

Jessica figured it had been something like that. Why did Dr. Ellington have it out for her? “The rest of my grades are exemplary,” Jessica said. “I’d like the chance to prove myself.”

“What kind of a chance?”

“I’ll retake her class.”

“Dr. Ellington doesn’t want you in her class.”

So she wasn’t just imagining things. “Why not?”

“Maybe she doesn’t think you’re living up to your potential.”

“So she fails me on a final paper worth fifty percent of my grade? That doesn’t make sense.” She pulled the graded paper out of her folio. The huge red F emblazoned on the coversheet made her wince. “Read it. Tell me if you think it deserves a failing grade.”

“I don’t question the grading methods of my professors. If she thought you deserved a failing grade, then you did.”

“Can I take the course independent study? Or is there another instructor who teaches it?”

“No and no,” Dr. Taylor said.

She was beginning to think coming here was a waste of time. Maybe she could appeal to his sense of justice. He was a law professor first, a dean second. “Other students in my position are given a semester to bring up their grades before their scholarships are revoked. Why doesn’t that provision apply in my case?”

“Other students attend their probation hearings.”

“I didn’t know about it. I would have attended if I’d known.”

His gaze moved from her eyes to her neck and settled on her chest. He c****d his head at her. “Did you enjoy your time working in Las Vegas?” His gaze shifted back to her face.

Her eyes widened. “How did you know…” She reminded herself that she hadn’t been doing anything wrong. “I was there for a summer job.”

“An internship at a law firm, I’m assuming.”

She lowered her gaze, her cheeks hot. “Well, no. I needed to make money and internships don’t pay. But I’m not working in Vegas anymore. I’m doing research for a psychology professor.”

“What kind of research?”

Her cheeks flamed hotter. She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. “Uh… well, she’s studying promiscuity in band groupies.” Why did her voice sound so squeaky? “Sir.”

“Interesting. Are you a test subject? That guy you did at the top of the Eiffel Tower is in a band, isn’t he? Are you one of his groupies?”

Bile rose to the back of Jessica’s throat. Dean Taylor knew about the video? Now would be a great time for a black hole to open up beside her and suck her into oblivion.

“How much do you want this scholarship?”

She looked up. A second chance? “I’d do anything.”

“Anything? Would you, say…” He shrugged nonchalantly. “…suck me off?”

She must have heard him wrong. “What?”

“I can overturn this decision with one signature. I just require the proper motivation.”

She could not believe this. Jaw set, teeth clenched, she growled, “I’m sure you’re aware that there are laws against s****l harassment.”

He sat up straighter in his chair and chuckled uncomfortably. “That was just a hypothetical question, Ms. Chase. I needed to know how serious you are about continuing your studies.”

“Not that serious.” She climbed to her feet and stuffed her failed term paper back into her folio.

“Leave that paper on my desk and I’ll get back to you with my decision.”

She paused. Should she swallow her pride and hand over the paper? Screw that. He’d think he’d won. “I’d rather inform the other deans what you just said to me. And the campus president. And your wife.”

“I’ve just given you your one chance, Jessica. Don’t be stubborn.” He smirked. “They’ve all seen your video. Don’t refuse your one opportunity to change everything. We can pretend your brilliant paper changed my mind.”

His hand disappeared beneath his desk and she heard his fly unzip.

“A twenty thousand dollar scholarship for five minutes, Ms. Chase.”

The skin on her back tried to crawl off her body. “I’m going to report you for this.”

He chuckled. “It’s your word against mine. Who do you think they’ll believe? A prestigious law professor with a spotless record or a stripper s*x-kitten from the wrong side of town?”

“f**k off.”

He shrugged nonchalantly again. “If you’d rather f**k than suck, I wouldn’t object.”

Her folio flew out of her hand of its own accord. Okay, so maybe she hurled it at him. Unfortunately, he ducked and it hit the back of his chair instead of his smug face. She spun on her heel, flung open his office door and stalked through the outer office, glaring at the startled secretary as she left.

Jessica found Sed outside at the curb, leaning against the front fender of his Mercedes on the passenger side. Some petite Asian chick with pink highlights in her hair stood before him, giggling like an i***t. When Sed noticed Jessica marching in his direction, he smiled brightly. It faltered when he caught her expression.

“I assume that didn’t go well.”

She climbed into the passenger side of the car, shooting eye-daggers at his giddy young companion, while he walked around the car and slid behind the wheel.

“You okay?”

“Drive,” she bellowed, fighting angry tears.

“Jess?”

“Just drive, okay? Drive!”

He started the car and pulled into traffic. “Where am I driving?”

“I don’t care. Just not here.” She hit the dashboard with both fists. “That ass. That unbelievable ass. How dare he? How dare he?”

Sed squeezed her knee. “What happened?”

She couldn’t tell him. She just couldn’t. “Nothing.”

“Something happened. Do you have any chance of getting your scholarship back?”

“Not anymore.” Her head started swimming. She knew she was hyperventilating, but she couldn’t calm down.

“Why not?”

“Because I refused to suck the dean’s c**k, that’s why not!” She drew in a deep breath, hoping to retrieve the words she’d unthinkingly spewed.

Sed slammed on the brakes. The seat belt dug into Jessica’s shoulder and then she banged her head on the headrest. Angry horns blared as cars swerved around them.

“ What? ”

Sed did a U-turn into oncoming traffic. More horns blared.

“Are you trying to kill us?” Jessica screamed, gripping the door handle with both hands, her eyes squeezed shut.

“I do have murder on my mind at the moment. Yes.”

“Sed, don’t do this.”

“Do what?”

He pulled to a halt in front of the building Jessica had recently vacated, illegally parked in the middle of the street with two tires on the center median, and opened his door. Jessica grabbed his arm before he could climb from the car.

“Don’t make it worse. I took care of it, okay? He won’t bother me again. I told him to f**k off.” Oh my God, I told the dean to f**k off. I’m so screwed.

“I just want to make sure your rejection sinks in. I think my fist will do the trick.” He cracked his knuckles, the muscles in his forearms straining against his skin.

“Sed, you can’t.”

“Why not? The prick has it coming to him.”

“Maybe he does—”

“Thank you.”

“—but I don’t want you to fight my battles. When you brought me here and let me go in by myself, I thought you finally understood. But you don’t understand at all.”

“What I really don’t understand is why men think they can talk to you like that.”

“He knew I was stripping in Vegas,” she said. “And he saw our video, Sed. Oh God. They’ve all seen it.” She couldn’t catch her breath.

“That shouldn’t matter.” He slammed his door and shifted into first gear. The tires squealed as the car shot forward.

“Why are you driving like a maniac?”

“Because I’m pissed and you won’t let me hit anyone.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” she murmured. “You always overreact.”

“Do you really think I’m overreacting?” Sed slammed both palms into the steering wheel. “Some sonuvabitch tells my girlfriend to suck his d**k and I’m overreacting!”

“Except I’m not your girlfriend.”

He growled, his eyes narrow, jaw taut. “Of course you aren’t. How could I forget?”

Sed waited for the first commercial to interrupt the ball game before he took the beer out of Trey’s hand and set it on the side table. Trey took his eyes off the TV to gape at Sed.

“How long has it been since you picked up your guitar?” Sed asked.

Trey shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Can’t play it anyway.”

“You’re never going to play again if you don’t try. Do you expect to wake up one morning and be back to one hundred percent with no effort?”

“Lay off, Sed. I thought you invited me over for a beer and to watch a ball game, not to b***h at me.”

“Someone has to b***h at you. Lots of people rely on us for a paycheck. How are we going to pay them if we keep canceling shows? And how long do you think our fans will back us if we keep turning them away?”

“Our fans are awesome, Sed. Loyal ’til the end.” He grabbed his beer and chugged it in several swallows.

“If we keep canceling tour dates, the end is going to come a lot sooner than you think. No concerts. No new album. Do you want this to end? We worked our f*****g asses off to get this far. You gonna let it go without a fight?”

“I am fighting.”

“I don’t see you fighting. I see you pussing out.”

Jessica wandered out of the bathroom, drying her hair with her towel. Her one towel. “Are we going out tonight? Or can I lounge around in shorts?”

“I vote for that outfit,” Trey said.

Jessica peeked out from under her towel. “s**t,” she muttered and wrapped the towel around her naked body.

“No worries. I’ve seen it before. Me and a couple million other people.”

Jessica shook her head at him. “Screw you, Trey.”

“If you insist.”

“Did I forget to mention that I invited Trey over?” Sed scratched his head as he looked up at Jessica from his recliner.

“Yeah, you forgot to mention that.” She headed for the bedroom. “I’m going to go slip into something more… more.”

Unable to take his eyes off her slim thighs, Sed watched her until she disappeared in his bedroom and then turned his attention back to Trey. What had they been talking about? Oh yeah. “You know I wouldn’t push you if I didn’t think you could handle it.”

“Bullshit.”

Okay, he would. Someone had to. “Have you even been going to physical therapy?”

Trey scowled. “I go.”

“Let me guess how that goes. You flirt with your therapist for an hour and then you go home.”

He looked at the ceiling and grinned. “Maybe.”

“It’s obvious that you don’t care about the band anymore. What do you think I should do about that?”

Trey’s recently acquired tan lightened a shade. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it means?”

“Are you considering replacing me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you thought it.” Trey pressed the leg rest of the recliner down and stood.

“How long are we supposed to wait for you, Trey? You tell me.”

Trey headed for the stairs. Sed launched himself from his chair and took off after him.

“Don’t run away,” Sed demanded. “I need to know if you’re done. By the amount of effort you’re putting into your recovery, I’d say you don’t think the band is worth it.”

Trey turned and shoved Sed with all his strength. Sed stumbled backward and hit his lower back against the pool table. He pulled himself upright, giving Trey a wide berth.

“You know I don’t think that!” Trey yelled. “The band means everything to me. Everything.”

“Prove it.”

Trey shook his head slightly, turned and took the stairs two at a time. He stormed out of the condo and slammed the front door behind him. Sed took a deep breath and rubbed his face with both hands.

Jessica appeared at his elbow. “Did I hear yelling? Where did Trey go?”

“He had to go practice his guitar or something.”

“You didn’t bully him, did you?” Jessica’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Me?” He tried on his best innocent expression. “Of course not.”

Backstage a week later, Sed clamped a hand over Trey’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Kind of late to change my mind now, isn’t it?” Trey adjusted his guitar strap into a more comfortable position on his shoulder and then stared at the pick in his left hand. He hadn’t been able to grip it for more than a few days, but he’d called their manager, Jerry, to reschedule tour dates despite everyone’s insistence that he needed more time to recover.

Now they had this sold out show to contend with. A packed venue of fifteen thousand. So Trey was correct, it was too late to change his mind.

“I feel a little rusty,” Brian said. “I hope I remember the set. It’s been almost three weeks since we set foot on a stage and we didn’t have time to rehearse this afternoon.”

“Like falling off a bike,” Sed assured him.

“Embarrassing and painful?”

“Exactly.”

Doing the sound check onstage, Jake strummed Brian’s guitar and played an intricate riff to ensure the instrument was tuned and responding to the amplifier. He earned a few cheers from the waiting crowd. Roadies loved to play rock star.