Part 11 (2/2)
He shut down his laptop, walked over to her bed, and bent over her bunk to brush a chaste kiss across her cheek. ”Good night, darlin'.”
He lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, tortured by images of Kevan asleep a few feet away. It drove him crazy listening to her toss and turn mere feet away from him. He'd have to wait until she fell asleep so he could take matters into his own hand, so to speak, and relieve some of the pressure she'd created. Sometime later, his mind finally shut down, and he drifted off to sleep.
Close to dawn, the tour caravan pulled into Medford. All three vehicles lined the rusted fence surrounding a small armory-tonight's venue-next to a row of military vehicles resembling props from a war movie. After a fitful night of punching his pillow into submission, Mason dragged himself to the kitchen and made coffee. An early riser, he tiptoed around, trying to let Ben-in the front bunk-and Kevan sleep as long as possible.
Being on the road could wreak havoc with a person's sleep cycle and, sometimes, health. For Mason, exercise was a form of meditation. When presented with a problem he couldn't solve, he often found it would untangle itself easily through a run or some weight training.
A good, long morning run was the therapy he needed to get his head around his job, this thing with Kevan, and the deal with the band. After leaving her a note, he stretched outside the bus. He was about to take off for a trek around the area, which wasn't much more than a cozy community in a lush valley, when Jax loped off the band's bus and started stretching.
”You run?” Mason asked the tattooed drummer.
”Don't sound so surprised.” Jax laughed. He bent down and touched his toes.
”Actually, I am. A little anyway. Doesn't seem very rock star. Aren't you supposed to be in bed with two groupies until late afternoon?”
”Not enough room in my bunk for two fangirls. And I'm on tour with my sister, dude. Besides, don't tell anyone, but I'm a bit of a health nut. Have been since college.”
”Now, I am surprised,” Mason said. ”I wasn't aware that tattoo artists went to college.”
Jax gestured to the road, and the two jogged down the street through the shadowy fog. ”Most probably don't. I was pre-law at Oregon State. Go Beavs! Graduated with a degree in poly sci, but art was always my thing.”
”I can relate. More than you know.” Mason nodded. ”Didn't go to law school though?”
”Almost the full three years. I f.u.c.king hated it,” he said with a shallow laugh.
Mason laughed, surprised he was starting to like the tattooed drummer. ”My sister's an attorney. It's definitely a personality type.”
Jax made a show of fake s.h.i.+vering and laughed. This time more genuinely.
Mason slowed, remembering the news he had for the band. ”Before I forget, I wanted to let you know the events VP from h.e.l.lfire is coming to the show tonight.”
”The possible tour opportunity from the itinerary?” Jax lifted both eyebrows.
”The one and only. Want to know why?”
”For real, dude? h.e.l.l yeah.”
”They're interested in the band for their big festival tour next year.”
Jax grinned. Then his smile fell, replaced by a frown. ”The band will be stoked.”
”So why don't you looked stoked?” What was going on with this guy?
”No, it's totally cool. I'm busy as h.e.l.l at work and have some commissioned paintings I need to work on. No worries. It's all good.” Jax smiled again and increased his pace.
Mason raced to keep up with Jax as the burn of cold air filled his lungs. His chest expanded and expelled the warmed air in cloudy puffs. They ran for two miles before Jax glanced repeatedly at Mason as if he wanted to say something but didn't quite know how to start. Mason a.s.sumed he knew the topic.
”Spit it out already.” He breathed heavily.
Jax doubled the pace. ”Look, Kevan acts like a bada.s.s, and sometimes she is, but the truth is she's had it rough.” Jax started breathing heavier but didn't sound winded.
”Her mom died when she was young, and her dad has always been a loser d.i.c.khead. She's an amazing girl, and she doesn't need another douchebag slumming it with the edgy chick.”
Did Jax just call him a douchebag to his face? ”Don't hold back. Tell me how you really feel.”
”You have a sister, right?” Jax asked. Taking the pace to another level, Mason welcomed the burn and stretch of his muscles as they heated and tired.
”What does that have to do with anything?”
”Answer the f.u.c.king question.” Jax's face darkened-either from exertion or from anger. ”Do you or not?”
”You know I do.”
”Do you feel protective of her? Want a.s.sholes to steer clear? Keep her out of trouble?”
”What's your point?”
”Kevan is super sweet, smart, and s.e.xy. She's also impulsive.” Jax glanced sideways at Mason and took several deep breaths. ”It's a recipe for disaster. And the one person who's supposed to look out for her, Bowen, f.u.c.ked up his life. While he's trying to straighten his s.h.i.+t out, she has no one to turn to. No one she can trust.”
How was he supposed to respond? She didn't need him messing around with her life. Jax was right; he should walk away from her.
”What about you?” he asked. ”You two seem pretty close.”
”We've all been friends for years-through the shop and music scene-but really it's Bowen and I that are tight.”
Mason wanted to pump his fist in the air and yell his relief.
”What's the deal with her brother?” he asked as they looped around toward the bus and RV.
”Bowen's the guy everyone likes. Life of the party. But he's an addict and alcoholic like his old man. The pressure of trying to be all things to all people got to him. He hid his insecurities in a bottle of booze and then got hooked on speed.” He slowed and looked lost in thought. ”Then he got his a.s.s kicked by a local dealer. It was bad. Thank G.o.d Kevan got him into rehab.”
They ran two blocks in silence before Jax said, ”d.a.m.n waste of talent if he doesn't get clean. He's one of the best artists I've ever met.”
”Do you have any of his work?” Mason asked.
”Why? You thinking of getting some ink?” Jax laughed.
”Maybe.”
Jax peered at Mason's face, maybe trying to gauge his sincerity. ”Yeah. He and Nathan did most of my tattoos. Bowen is obsessed with traditional Asian art. He did all my Chinese and j.a.panese stuff. I'll show you sometime. He's gifted.”
Mason smiled absentmindedly, thinking of Kevan's body art. ”I've seen Kevan's koi and cherry blossoms. They're insane.”
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