Fully Automatic (Bullet) (32 page)

Brad got it.  They were trying to get her involved in a threesome, and Val was in no shape for it to be consensual.  “It’s okay, Val.  You’re here.”  He let her cry more, letting her wind down.  It seemed to be what she needed.

But then her voice was stronger than it had been.  “Brad, what the hell kind of proof is that schnapps?”

“What?  Why?”

“Because…it wasn’t real, Brad.  It was so weird, so dark, so fuzzy.  I didn’t have full control of myself.”  She gasped and started sobbing again.  “Oh, my God.  What if I’m allergic to schnapps?”  If Brad hadn’t been so worried, he might have laughed.  He’d never heard of anyone being allergic to liquor before, but he supposed anything was possible.  “What if I die?  What will my mom and dad think?”

And then it dawned on Brad.  It wasn’t alcohol.  Hell, no.  Yeah, it might have loosened her up, maybe even caused her to black some things out, but it wouldn’t make her feel like she was out of her body or hallucinating.  The truth of it finally hit him…and he was
pissed
.  “What’d Ethan give you?”

“Nothing.”

Maybe nothing that she knew about.  It would have been easy enough to slip it in a drink.  “Bullshit.”  He stood up.  He didn’t want to leave her, not in this fragile state, but he needed answers.  He leaned over.  “You okay here by yourself?”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Find out what the fuck he slipped you.”

“He didn’t…”  But he saw a look cross her face as she accepted that it must be true.  He
rose again and stomped through the door.  He couldn’t even think straight anymore.  He walked to the other bedroom.  The door was closed, so he was certain Ethan and that girl remained in there.

He threw the door open
, and it wasn’t until the light flooded in that he realized Val was right behind him.  As his eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness, he realized that Ethan and the girl were, in fact, still in the room, and Ethan was giving it to her doggy style on the bed.  He looked like the epitome of the drugged, crazed, out-of-his-mind rock star.  His t-shirt was on, and he was holding a bottle of vodka.  His free hand gripped the blonde girl about her waist.  At least he had the decency to stop and look at Brad and Val.  At first, Brad had thought he was going to have to slap him to get his attention.

The bimbo on the bed said, a whine in her voice, “Fuck me.  God, why won’t you just fuck me?”

It was all Brad could do to not pull him off the bed and start beating the shit out of him.  But he wanted answers, not blood.  Ethan continued eyeing him with that dull stare, so Brad got a little closer and asked through gritted teeth, “What the fuck did you give her, Ethan?”  Ethan raised his eyebrows but looked stupid and senseless.  Brad took a deep breath, feeling more anger surge through his veins.  He leaned over so he could get closer to Ethan, and his voice was low.  “Goddammit.  Answer me, man, or I’ll beat it out of you.”

The bimbo looked up at Brad, a tearful look on her face, and then she looked at Val and burst out laughing.  “She’s tripping.  Don’t you feel great, sweetie?”

That confirmed his suspicion.  “Acid?”

The dull look on Ethan’s face continued stoking Brad’s anger, and his stupid answer didn’t help.  “I guess.”

The bimbo piped in again.  “Yeah.  Now would you please either get out of here or help him fuck me?”

Brad felt like he was going to grind his teeth out of his head.  He was ready to toss the blonde out the door.  He got close to Ethan again.  “What the fuck is wrong with you, Ethan?” 
The same thick look was Ethan’s only response.  “I should beat you anyway, just on general principle.”

Ethan raised the arm that had been holding the girl in position out in a Jesus Christ pose, inviting Brad to pummel him into pulp.
  Brad was at a crossroads.  As angry as he felt, he was afraid if he got started, he wouldn’t be able to stop.  He’d held back so much anger for his friend for so long that letting it out at this point could prove dangerous.

Val got right next to him, and he was amazed at how much clarity her presence gave him.  Before he could say a word, Val stuck her finger out and held it inches away from Ethan’s nose.  He
r voice was stronger than it had been since the beginning of the episode and she said, clear as day, “We are
over
, Ethan Richards.”

“Babe—”

“Go fuck yourself.”  Inside, Brad felt a weight lift.  He’d never seen Val stand up to Ethan like that before.  He knew she did and often, because the two of them were constantly bickering, but for her to cut him off like that…that took balls.  He was proud of her.

At that point, he didn’t feel like beating Ethan anymore
, because Val was taking care of it.  She pulled the robe back over her shoulder and turned on her heel, leaving the room before Ethan could say another word.  He backed away, tempted to shake his head, but he instead just turned too and closed the door.  And, as he followed Val back to her room, he thought about it.  He was pretty sure Ethan was finishing up what he’d started with the blonde girl, in spite of (or maybe because of) Val giving him walking papers.

In the meantime, Val was crying again and she needed him.  He wasn’t going to let her down.

Chapter Thirty-eight

VAL FELL ASLEEP
in Brad’s arms that night.  He’d always dreamed about that moment, but it certainly wasn’t the way he’d envisioned it or even wanted it.

And he was worried too.  Brad had never taken LSD, never planned to.  It sounded way too freaky.  He didn’t ever want to lose that much control.  He was anxious about leaving her alone.
  He’d have to for a bit, though.  So, after he was sure she was in a restful sleep, he left her room and closed the door.  A few people had left but not many.  He looked for Nick, because Nick was someone he trusted, but Nick was nowhere to be found.  Scoring again, no doubt.  He found Zane in the kitchen, doing shots.  He told him Val was fucked up, and he was afraid to leave her alone.  Zane raised an eyebrow, reminding him of why he hadn’t wanted to tell Zane in the first place.  “No, we are
not
doing anything you need to be worried about.  She is completely fucked up, and I’m pretty sure Ethan or that bimbo with him slipped some acid in her drink.  I’m going to be with her.  If you need something, come get me, but, otherwise, do you mind running the show?”

Zane grinned.  “Want me to just get rid of people?”

He shook his head.  “Nah.  Not fair to them.”  He made his way back to the hallway and considered telling some of his guests
goodbye
but thought better of it.  He didn’t want them feeling like they had to leave.

He stood outside Val’s door.  Yeah—happy fuckin’ birthday.

Still, he wouldn’t have had it any other way.  He was glad he’d been the one to find her. 

He went back in her room.  She was restless—mumbling in her sleep, tossing, whimpering.  He pulled her to his chest and held her close
, and she seemed to relax then.  He lay there, running his hand over her hair, talking quietly to her on occasion, half expecting Ethan to come in at some point.  Much later, the party died down, and when it finally got really quiet, Brad felt himself getting sleepy.  But he wasn’t going to leave her.

Much later but before it got light outside, she startled awake, muttering something about some wild animal in the bedroom ready to pounce.  It took him a little time to convince her everything was okay.  She rolled on her side
, and he wrapped his arm around her.  He wanted to protect her for the rest of her life, and he was angry that she’d had to deal with such seediness.

When she woke up the next morning, her motion in the twin bed awakened him too.  He was exhausted.  He sat up.  “How you feeling?”

She shrugged.  “A little strange, I guess.  Still kind of out of it.”  She rolled her neck.  “Pretty pissed.”

He nodded.  “Understandable.  You gonna be okay now?”

She looked at him, a small smile on her face.  “Yeah.  Thanks for making sure I was okay, Brad.”

“I was worried about you.”

“I appreciate it.”  She stood.  “I think I really need a shower.”  He had so much he wanted to say to her…but he somehow knew that now was not the time.  It was too early, too fresh, and he wasn’t ready.  He knew she wasn’t either.

He wanted to get more sleep and that had been the plan…until he saw all the people sleeping on the living room floor.  Well, a party had been a stupid idea.  He wouldn’t do
that
again.  He decided to make coffee and clean the kitchen.  It was trashed.  Making noise might get the people up and at ‘em, and then he could take a nap later if he needed to.

While he cleaned the kitchen, he heard Val in the shower singing.  She was belting a song they’d written last summer, one called “Let You Go.”  He knew why.  It was about ending a toxic relationship.  Maybe she was thinking along those lines.  That was his hope.

But as the week progressed, he saw that Val and Ethan hadn’t broken up any more than the oceans had evaporated.  Ethan was on his best behavior, yeah, but they were together.  Either Val had forgotten she’d broken up with him or she’d forgiven him.  Either way, they were back at it, and even though Ethan was behaving himself, Brad knew it was just a matter of time before they started fighting again.  They were just one of those couples.  And they’d make everyone around them miserable.

Brad decided he had to talk to his friend about it.  He couldn’t sit back anymore, so he asked Ethan out for dinner one night when Val had to work.  He didn’t want her
—or the other guys—to see it.  If Ethan chose to tell her after the fact, fine, but for now, Ethan was his to deal with.

Ethan knew something was up but found it difficult to turn down a free meal at Wendy’s.  They got their food an
d sat down and Brad figured he shouldn’t pussyfoot around.  “I know you know something’s up, so I’m just going to get it off my chest.”

Ethan shrugged.  “Okay.” 
Ethan had been in one of his phases where he was high more often than not, but he was lucid right now.  Brad was grateful, because nothing he had to say would matter if Ethan’s head was shoved up his ass.

“You know Val loves you, right?”

Ethan could barely hide what he was thinking.  He was irritated.  “Yeah.”  Brad wasn’t sure exactly how to word what he wanted to say next, and before he could speak, Ethan started talking.  “You think it’s one-sided?”

That took the wind out of his sails.  Yeah, he had, actually.  He’d assumed all along that Ethan was playing with Valerie, enjoying pulling her strings
, especially because of the way the guy had treated her early on.  Brad had never considered that Ethan might really care for her.  He knew that on some superficial level Ethan cared, but he didn’t think it ran that deep.  “Is it?”

Ethan put his burger down and took a sip of his drink.  Then he took a deep breath and looked Brad in the eyes.  He shook his head.  “I care about her.  I—love her.  I can see it in your eyes.  You don’t think so, and I really don’t give a shit what you think.  But
you need to know she’s important to me.”

Brad nodded.  He had to rethink the discussion.  He’d planned to tell Ethan to treat her well because she loved him and he needed to try to reciprocate; instead, if his friend really did love Val, then maybe he could reason with him.  “That’s good, man.  I’m glad to hear it.  Just…your actions don’t always show it.”

After a long moment of silence, Ethan nodded.  “I know.”  He shrugged and took another sip of his drink.  “I know.  But I also know I’d be worse without her.”

“You think?”

“I guarantee.”  And that was when Brad decided to back off entirely.  He’d had no idea.  If they loved each other, he wasn’t going to get in the way, and he wasn’t going to fuck things up.  But one thing that worried Brad—if Ethan would be worse without Val in his life, what the fuck would he have been like?  The thought scared the shit out of Brad and made him fear for his friend’s well being.  Val had a lot riding on her shoulders, and Brad doubted she had any clue.

* * *

As spring marched forward, things around their apartment seemed smoother.  Brad didn’t know why—maybe Ethan was trying harder or he and Val had learned to get along better.  He had no idea, but it was a welcome relief.

Jo called again, apologizing to Brad for what happened the last time, and told him she was dying to see him.  He tried to be as gentle as possible but told her he thought her boyfriend would flat-out kill him if he caught him with Jo again.  It was a risk he wasn’t willing to take.

One thing Jo
had
taught him, though, was to not go so long without a woman in his life.  So, now that he was of legal drinking age (and none of his fellow band members were yet), he made it a point to go out one night a week and have a beer.  By himself.  And half the time he got lucky.  There were no strings, nothing permanent, but he discovered that there were a lot of girls out there feeling just as lonely as he was, and even a quick connection was better than languishing.  He had to get his head on straight, and one way was to stop denying his sexual urges.  Sure, he could have had groupies constantly.  They weren’t a huge band, but they already had their fair share of girls who loved the idea of rock stars.  Still, he didn’t want to go there.  Ethan, Nick, and Zane had no issues with it, but Brad hesitated.  He felt like it was shitting where he ate.

Jet called Brad one day and told him
he’d read a review of a recent Fully Automatic concert.  Brad looked it up on the internet but found that the review was only available in the hard copy.  He asked if anyone wanted to go with him to check it out, and Val and Zane took him up on the offer.  So they got in the van and drove to a nearby Chipotle.  The restaurant wasn’t open yet, so they sat in the van for a while talking, waiting for the doors to open.

The paper was free.  They all got drinks and then huddled around a table, each of them with a copy, leafing through the paper.  Val examined each page, afraid she’d miss it, but Zane was zipping through and said, “Found it.  P
age forty-four.”  Brad and Val flipped through their papers until they found that page.

Brad noticed the picture first.  It was a typical newspaper photo, black and white and pixely.
  But it was cool—it was the first time his band was mentioned in the press.  He stared at it for a while, taking it in.  He’d seen a couple of fan-recorded videos on YouTube, but they hadn’t prepared him for this.

He slowly took it in, paragraph by paragraph.  At first, he couldn’t tell if the reviewer liked the band, because he was using words that could be either positive or negative, depending on the context.  Descriptions like
gritty
and
unpolished
could be good or bad.  But before he could find that context, Val said, “Oh, God…I can’t read anymore.”  Well, that made him think the review wasn’t good.

Zane started reading out loud, so Brad searched the text to try to find where he was reading from. 
“At first, Quinn seemed to be holding back.  By mid-show, however, her vocals were strong.  Her style alternates between singing and screaming, and she can hold her own doing either.  By the third song, Quinn had the audience eating out of her hand, whipping them into a headbanging frenzy.”

He continued and Brad gave up trying to find where he was in
the paper.  He talked about how talented Nick was—his performance was grueling, almost painful to watch, but he was precise, and he said a tiny blip about Zane too.  He talked about Ethan, stating the guy was talented as hell but didn’t seem to be present.  Well, that was no surprise to the band members. He mentioned some of their songs too, and Brad started to think maybe this guy was becoming a fan.  He felt relief.

Zane kept reading.  “However, the best part of the show was guitarist Brad Payne.  Payne showed precision beyond his years, whether he was involved in brutal shredding or impressing the audience with masterful melodies.  His energy seemed to be one of the driving forces of the band too.”  Zane kept reading and
, while Brad was grateful that the guy had liked him, he was also a little embarrassed that the rest of the band hadn’t been on the receiving end of more praise.  And he didn’t quite believe it, either.  He knew they had a long way to go to be perfect.

Zane looked at him, nodding and smiling.  Brad shook his head.

Val said, “Brad, you should be proud.  Everything he said about you is true.”

He looked down.  “Not everyone in the band is going to be as enthusiastic as you, Val.”
  Ethan would likely be pissed.  He’d hardly gotten a mention, and it hadn’t exactly been a compliment.

“Yeah, well, he needs to get the fuck over it.  It didn’t say anything bad about him, and you deserve every word the article said.” 
Val smiled and rested her hand on his.  “I’m proud of you and glad to be your friend.”  He smiled.  What could he say that wouldn’t sound asinine?  She turned her attention to Zane and he was relieved.  “And you too, Zane.”

“Yeah, but the article didn’t gush about me like it did Mr. Guitar Man.  I know.  I get it.  Guy who plays bass is the low man on the metal totem pole.”  He
started laughing.  “At least it doesn’t affect how much pussy I get.”

Val said,
“Yeah.  God forbid.”

Brad cleared his throat.  More than anything else, he didn’t want the praise getting to anyone’s head, especially his own.  Until they were signed, a review didn’t mean shit.  It might bring a bigger audience, though, so he wasn’t going to sneeze at it. 
“Let’s get the fuck out of here and let the guys know.  This is just one of many things that will help us get recognized.  No time to rest on our laurels, ladies.”

And he meant it.  Until success was in their hands, there was no time to rest.