Hard As Rock (28 page)

“I smell like Jack
Daniels,
bitch.”

“Tell me you didn’t drive.”

“No, got a cab.”

“I’d offer you a drink, but – ”

“I brought my own.”

“I see that. You want a glass?”

A derisive snort. “Since when do I ever use a glass?”

“How was New York?”

“Cut the crap, Ry.”

“What?”

“Have you talked to Derek?”

“No – have you?”

“NO.” Her boots paced clunkily across the hardwood floors. “That’s what fuckin’ worries me.”

“Why? He’s in rehab. He can’t talk to – ”

“No he’s not. He just got out a couple hours ago.”

That bit of information filled me with dread. The rehab place was in LA; that meant he wouldn’t be back here for at least another five or six hours, minimum…

But he was coming.

I started down the stairs. If I couldn’t control my fate, I could at least face it head-on.

“What?!” Ryan exclaimed. “How do you know that?”

“Miles sent us a text. Check your cell phone once in awhile, dumbass.”

“Since when do you check your cell phone,
ever?”

“When I might be out of a job any minute.”

“Riley,” he sighed. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Oh yeah? How do
you
know?”

“Because Ryan won’t let it happen,” I said as I got to the bottom of the stairs.

Riley fairly jumped at the sound of my voice. She stared at me like she’d just seen the dead rise.

Then she turned to Ryan. “Why the fuck’d you bring
her?”

“Nice to see you, too,” I said crossly.

“Shut the fuck up, Yoko,” she snapped.

“…Yoko?”

“Ono,” she spat. “As in ‘broke up the fuckin’ Beatles.’”

Ouch.

“Riley,” Ryan warned.

But Riley was too far gone to pull back now. “How big of an idiot are you, Ry?! He’s going to lose it for
sure
when he sees her here!”

“So?”

“SO?! So then he quits the band, and it’s OVER!”

“If it comes to that,
I’ll
quit, and you guys can just keep going.”

She stood there in shock, her mouth hanging open – and then she launched herself at Ryan, swinging her tiny fists into his chest in a flurry of blows as she screamed, “FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!”

Her outburst took Ryan by surprise, but then he grabbed her wrists. Once he had pinned her arms, he looked directly into her face and spoke like the world’s most patient parent talking to a hysterical three-year-old. “It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s going to be okay.”

“It’s NOT going to be okay!” she howled.

I finally realized that she was crying. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, darkened from the mascara and eyeliner fright-mask around her eyes.

Riley crying?

That had to be sign of the impending apocalypse.

“Yes it will,” Ryan said soothingly. “You guys can get any number of great bassists to fill in for me. As long as you keep Derek, you’ll – ”

“What the fuck are you TALKING about?! You write the songs! You ARE Bigger, not that stupid asshole!”

My heart swelled with affection for her – especially from the next thing she said.

“Besides, I’m not gonna stay in a band with that douchebag if
you’re
not there, you fuckin’ idiot! What the fuck kinda friend do you think I am?!”

Ryan smiled at her. “Alright… fine. We’ll just replace Derek, then.”

“Yeah, like
that’ll
work,” she scowled.

“Lots of bands have replaced their lead singers and gone on to be even better for it.”

“Name
one.
”

“Genesis, when Phil Collins replaced Peter Gabriel.”

“I meant a
good
band, asshole!” she raged. “Black Sabbath
sucked
 when they kicked out Ozzy! Motley Crue
sucked
when they kicked out Vince Neil!”

“Sabbath didn’t suck with Dio,” Ryan chided her.

“They weren’t nearly as
good.
”

“What about Pink Floyd?”

“Well…” she grumbled, then shouted, “Van Halen!”

“I know you like David Lee Roth, but you like Sammy Hagar’s stuff, too.”

“Bullshit, I don’t like either of them!” she shouted, then struggled to think. “Uh – Sublime!”

“Bradley O.D.’d, Riley. That doesn’t count.”

“It counts!”

“Why are you so concerned about Derek quitting? You don’t even like him,” I butted in.

She turned on me with a rage I might have expected from a cheated-upon spouse. “YOU don’t get to talk, you stupid BITCH!”

“RILEY!” Ryan shouted.

Her voice turned into a pitiful wail. “But she’s gonna break up the band!”

“If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine,” he snapped. “
I’m
the one who got involved with her.”

“Yeah, well, I hate
you,
too,” she sniffled.

Ryan sighed. “It’s going to be fine. Whatever Derek decides, we have enough money to last us for decades, even if we never make another penny.”

“I don’t care about the money!”

“I know – I know. But no matter what, I’ll keep playing music,
you’ll
keep playing music… we’ll play music together. It’ll be fine.”

“I just want it to be like it’s always been,” she mumbled.

“It might be. Don’t give up hope yet.”

“I’d have a whole lot more hope if you kicked Yoko out.”

“I don’t like being called ‘Yoko,’” I objected. “I
barely
tolerated Blondie – ”

“Tough shit, YOKO,” she snapped, then turned back to Ryan and pleaded, “Can’t you at least, like, ship her out of
town
for awhile?”

“Not going to happen. If Derek’s going to quit, let him quit. I’m not going to skulk around and give him all the power.”

“But – ”

“She’s
staying,
Riley. And don’t call her Yoko, either.”

Riley grumbled and groused, but didn’t say anything more about it for the next couple of hours.

Except when she called me ‘Yoko’ under her breath.

The doorbell rang while Riley was still around. She was acting sulky and sullen and tossing gravel in the goldfish pond, trying to hit the fish.

“Leave the fish alone,” Ryan called out as he went in the house to answer the door.

“They’re fuckin’ fish, they need some excitement,” she yelled back.

I followed Ryan into the house.

“What’s up?” Ryan asked.

“Nothing. I just don’t want to be called ‘Yoko’ anymore.”

“She quit doing that.”

“Yeah, except when she mouths it silently when your back is turned.”

He grimaced. “Ah, Riley.”

As we got closer to the door, my heart sped up. I knew it couldn’t be Derek – the flight from LA to Atlanta was probably five hours, and then there was all the time at the airport beforehand, not to mention the hour-plus drive to Athens. And he’d only been released from rehab about four hours ago, according to the text from Miles.

But I was nervous just the same until Ryan opened the door.

There stood a certain short, long-haired guitarist dressed all in black – and stinking of weed. I have to say, though, it was one of the few times I had ever seen him without a joint in his lips or a guitar in his arms.

“Hello, there,” he said to Ryan, and then he saw me. There was a second where his eyes widened, and then he sighed like he was resigning himself to his fate. “Hello, Kaitlyn.”

“Hi, Killian,” I said, noticing the subtle shift in his tone of voice.

“Come on in,” Ryan said. “Good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too,” Killian said as he walked into the foyer and turned around to face us.

“Riley’s out back. You want anything to eat or drink?”

“No, I’m good,” Killian said, but he didn’t move from the foyer. He just stood there nervously, arms dangling at his side, fingers twitching like a gunfighter about to draw his six-shooters.

Nobody said anything for about ten seconds.

“You want a guitar?” Ryan asked.

“Yes, please,” Killian said, exhaling in relief.

We all walked back to the studio.

“How was your trip?” Ryan asked.

“Not as interesting as yours, I’d wager,” Killian said, glancing over at me.

Ryan shot him a look. “Are you going to give me crap, too?”

“No, no,” Killian said mildly… but his shoulders were sagging under the weight of some heavy interior burden.

“What’s up, then?”

“Well… I don’t know quite how I should say this…”

“Just say it.”

“…should I be looking for a new gig?”

Ryan chuckled. “No.”

Killian brightened. “So you’ve talked to Derek, then?”

“No.”

His mood just as quickly dimmed. “Oh.”

“Look, Killian – what happened between me and Kaitlyn is – ”

“No, no, I don’t need to know any details,” he said quickly.

“I wasn’t going to give you any. I was going to say, it’s not going to break up the band.”

“Oh? How’s that, exactly?”

“If it comes down to it, I’ll leave.”

Killian’s eyes widened even more. “What?! Oh, no, no, no, no, no. No, that’s a very bad idea.”

“Well, if that’s the only choice – ”

“No, no, no, no, no, that’s – let’s not even discuss that,” he said, his fingers twitching even more spasmodically.

“Here,” Ryan said, handing over an electric guitar.

Killian sighed in relief as he slipped the strap over his shoulder and started immediately dancing his fingers across the strings,
plink plink plink
. His body and face both relaxed noticeably. “Thank you.”

“Why’d you leave your guitar at home?” I asked.

“Well… I was trying to be normal.”

Good luck with that,
I thought.

We all walked into the backyard and caught Riley pouring Jack Daniels into the goldfish pond.

“RILEY!” Ryan shouted.

“Dude, they’re
fishes,
they have a boring life, let them live a little,” Riley shouted back.

“Hello, Riley,” Killian said as he sat down in one of the patio chairs.

“What up, guv’nor,” she said in a bad English accent.

“May I?” Killian asked as he fished a joint out of his black trenchcoat.

Ryan sighed. “…sure. Why not.”

The guitarist lit up happily, and within seconds was back to the Killian I knew: serene, placid, imperturbable.

Ryan cleared his throat. “I, uh… I think we need to clear the air about me and Kaitlyn.”

“You mean you and Yoko,” Riley snarled.

Killian looked over at her, confused – and then smiled. “Ah. Clever.”

“Hear that, Yoko?” Riley said to me. “I’m clev-ah.”

I just gave her a sour look.

“Look, it’s not what you think it is,” Ryan said. “Derek and Kaitlyn broke up in Vegas. Derek… uh…”

Ryan looked over at me hesitantly, as though asking how he should proceed with a delicate subject.

I was about to say something, but Riley interrupted.

“You fucked with the bro code!” she yelled drunkenly at Ryan.

“What?”

“The
bro
code!”

“What do
you
know about the bro code?” Ryan asked, amused.

“A fuckin’ hell of a lot more than
you,
apparently! You don’t fuck a bro’s ho! Bros before hoes! The bro code!”

Ryan suddenly got very dark. I had only seen him that pissed a couple of times – and
never
with Riley.

“Do not
ever
use that word in connection with Kaitlyn again,” he said, and I could hear the menace in his voice.

I thought Riley would fight back, but she didn’t. She looked down petulantly at the ground. “Well… you broke the bro code.”

“He cheated on me,” I said.

Killian coughed on his joint – something I’d also never seen before.

“Surprise, surprise,” Riley sneered.

“Why are you acting like this?” I snapped. “
You
were the one who told me in Seattle I should ditch Derek and start dating Ryan!”

Ryan and Killian both turned to look at Riley – who blushed pink.

This was an afternoon of firsts, alright.

“I was drunk,” she mumbled.

“You’re
always
drunk,” I pointed out.

“You said that?” Ryan asked Riley. He was obviously touched.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” she answered, obviously annoyed I had told on her. “But I didn’t think you’d actually
do
it!”

“Surprise, surprise,” I jeered.

“Anyway,” Ryan continued, “I took Kaitlyn with me to South Dakota, but we didn’t… become involved for a long while. It just happened naturally.”

Riley snorted. “Is that what they call it when you’ve been wantin’ to fuck somebody for four years?”

Now it was Ryan’s turn to blush. “Riley – ”

“Whatever,” she griped. “I’m bored.”

“You can go anytime you want,” I said.

“Don’t go actin’ like this is your house, Yoko.”

“Riley – ” Ryan glowered.

“
Whatever.
Can I get a burger or somethin’? I’m starvin’.”

We spent the rest of the evening grilling out. Ryan played them some of the things he had been working on in South Dakota, and Killian and Riley joined in – Killian on his guitar, Riley on an electronic drum pad that Ryan brought out from the studio. It turned into a really cool jam session, a backyard concert just for me – and any neighbors who happened to be within earshot. Killian stayed chill, Riley forgot to be angry, and everything was fun and laid back.

That changed the next morning when Miles showed up.

The band manager showed up around 11AM without warning. When Ryan opened the door, Miles burst in like a well-dressed tornado.

“What the FUCK are you trying to do?!” he yelled at Ryan as he stormed past. “Being in the number one band in the world wasn’t good enough for you, you had to go and bollocks it up, you stupid bastard!”

“Hello to you, too,” Ryan said.

I heard him from the kitchen and was trying to sneak out the back way, but Miles saw me through the living room door.