The Road Back (Limelight Series Book 2) Read online

  2017 Piper Davenport and Jack Davenport

  Copyright © 2017 Trixie Publishing, Inc.

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States

  The Road Back is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover Art:

  Jackson Jackson

  Tracey Jane Jackson

  Cover Model

  Jackson Jackson

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Praise

  Dedication

  Back Blurb

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  Saving the Preacher’s Daughter

  Meet Hatch!

  Meet Mack!

  About Piper & Jack

  All it took was one page and I was immediately hooked on Piper Davenport’s writing. Her books contain 100% Alpha and the perfect amount of angst to keep me reading until the wee hours of the morning. I absolutely love each and every one of her fabulous stories. ~ Anna Brooks – Contemporary Romance Author

  Get ready to fall head over heels! I fell in love with every single page and spent the last few wishing the book would never end! ~ Harper Sloan, NY Times & USA Today Bestselling Author

  Piper Davenport just reached deep into my heart and gave me every warm and fuzzy possible. ~ Geri Glenn, Author of the Kings of Korruption MC Series

  Hadley Simon risked everything to earn her spot as the manager for America’s fastest rising band. They have been invited to open for rock royalty in a once in a lifetime summer tour, and it means she finally gets to do what she loves. She is the consummate professional and knows how to keep her emotions in check… until a sexy as hell drummer enters her life and turns her world upside down.

  Jack Henry is living with his demons in relative seclusion… until he’s convinced to go back out on the road with his old band. The death of his wife ruined him, and he has fought his way out from under a pile of easy women, booze, and blow, but doesn’t know if he can resist the old temptations that nearly killed him. When he meets the beautiful and sassy manager of his opening act, he feels things he hasn’t in a very long time, bringing to the surface ghosts he thought were exorcised long ago.

  But she is his new drug of choice, and he doesn’t know what scares him more… pursuing a life with her or the thought of one without her.

  To the countless drummers that helped shape my life.

  Thank you for showing me who real musicians are.

  Jack

  One year ago…

  MUCH LIKE DANTE’S Inferno, my vision of hell contains many circles. I currently found myself in two of them simultaneously… sitting inside a corporate coffee hut… in an airport. The demons were disguised as bleary-eyed commuters and the smell of burned coffee beans replaced the traditional sulfuric stench of brimstone, but it was hell nonetheless. In my former life, at four in the morning, Rex Haddon and I would’ve been sitting in a very dark bar, many empties between us, after having closed the place down. Times had certainly changed.

  “Why now?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?” Rex challenged. “Why not now?”

  “Well, for starters, last time I checked, rock was dead.”

  “You’re lucky nineteen-year-old Jack Henry isn’t around to hear you say that.” Rex grinned. He wasn’t wrong. Nineteen-year-old Jack Henry was a scrappy, angry young man who took his music very seriously.

  I ignored him and continued, “What I mean, is rock music is far from thriving right now. Everyone is listening to Katy Lovato and Selena Grande Latte.”

  “Melody Morgan,” Rex corrected.

  “What?” I asked flatly.

  “You didn’t raise a teenage daughter. They listen to Melody Morgan.”

  “What-the-fuck-ever,” I breathed out. “That’s my point exactly. It’s all mouse ear music these days. Who’d even care about a RatHound reunion?”

  “First of all, rock is far from dead, my friend,” Rex countered. “It’s only dead if we let it die… your words. Plus, there are plenty of great young rock bands that are hungry and raw; like we were. Bands like, Rival Sons, Arms Race Radio, and Roses for Anna.”

  “Man, you know I don’t listen to the radio or watch those TV music game shows.”

  “I’m not talking about TV star shit; I’m talking about real bands playing real music. It’s time, Jack.” Rex looked at me more seriously now. “It’s time for us to start making music again. It’s time for you to start playing again and remind the people what real music sounds like.”

  I took a swig of coffee. I had to admit, it was an interesting proposition. It had been ten years since the band had called it quits. Technically, we never officially broke up; we all just went our separate ways and never played together again. Perhaps it was a small distinction to our fans, but it was a big one to us. Unlike a lot of bands back then, we never hated each other or had a big falling out. We destroyed ourselves from within, one at a time.

  “It’s just a summer tour, Jack.” Rex paused for effect. “On the west coast.”

  “And an E.P.,” I added.

  “Yes, the label would like us to record a three song E.P. to promote the tour.”

  “Rex, I haven’t touched a pair of sticks in years and you want me to go into the studio and then straight out on the road for six weeks?”

  “I have faith in you. I know the animal drummer is still in there. You just have to let him out.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to invite all first-class passengers for flight 2137 to Spain to begin boarding at this time.”

  “That’s my flight,” I said, and quickly stood up. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Hold on, that’s it? I haven’t seen you in years, you can only meet me at the ass crack of dawn in the airport, and now you’re off to Spain? What gives, man?” Rex rose to his feet. “Are we still friends or what?”

  “Of course we are.” I exhaled deeply. “I’m just not sure about the timing. I have a lot of things coming up, you know how it is.”

  “Yeah, I know very well ‘how it is,’ that’s why I’m here, trying to intercept you before you’re off to your next adventure kite surfing in Bali, kick boxing in Thailand, or scaling the ice caves of Freeze-your-balls-offistan, or whatever it is this month.

  “Rex, I’m going to Spain to relax and take photos. I promise I’ll think about it and get back to you as soon as I can.”

  “As soon as you can? What does that mean? Do they not have cell towers in Sp
ain? Shit, man, send me a smoke signal or a homing pigeon, just let me know soon! I have an opening band in mind, and am in negotiations with someone to manage the tour.”

  I smiled. “I promise I’ll get back to you, just give me a little time to think about it and don’t get your hopes up.”

  Jack

  Present day…

  I PULLED UP to the studio and parked the truck. I still wasn’t sure this was a good idea, or if I was up to the task, but I’d said yes and that was that. I’m not entirely sure why I’d agreed to a reunion tour, but I suppose I had run out of excuses, not to mention, it was always hard for me to say no to Rex. As the youngest member of the band, I’d always looked up to him and he’d never steered me wrong. Not to say that Rex wasn’t without his faults, he was a lead singer, after all.

  “Jack Henry Gornitzka, as I live and breathe,” Robbie said as he came bounding out to greet me.

  “Mitchell Roberts, the third,” I yelled back, before embracing my old friend. “Robbie” as he was known, was the band’s guitarist, and the one most responsible for my joining RatHound.

  “How was Spain?” he asked.

  “It was great. I got a lot of great shots. Hopefully some of them will make it into the next book.” I shook my head and grinned. “But forget about all that, what are you up to? How are Lisa and the twins?”

  “They’re about to go into college. Can you believe that? Shit man, I still remember sneaking your scrawny ass into the clubs, and now I’ve got kids in college!”

  I’d been a big fan of the band back when they were still playing clubs up and down the Pacific North West. I never missed a show when they played in Portland, and often drove as far as Tacoma and Seattle to see them. I was four or five years younger than anyone in the band, but I knew all their songs, inside and out, and was obsessed with their original drummer, Ben Gorman. Ben was kicked out for being drunk all the time. Ironic, since the rest of the guys were too, the only difference being they could still do their job shit-faced. Ben couldn’t. He’d been my hero, but that still didn’t mean I didn’t jump at the chance to audition when Robbie asked.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d have the balls to show up.” Robbie grinned from ear to ear. “You know all our songs?” These were the same words he spoke to me the night that I’d auditioned back in 1990. I was just a scrawny kid trying not to embarrass myself in front of my local heroes, but I was prepared, played my ass off, and ultimately got the gig.

  “C’mon, we’re just getting set up,” he said, and led me into the studio.

  Fastback Studios would be our home for the next three weeks or so. We used to rehearse here back in the day, then Rex had bought the property, even though he’d built a state-of-the-art studio on the back of his guest house. He said he “wanted to pay it forward” for other young musicians and gave them the best deal in town.

  For now, however, we’d be using the space to rehearse for the tour and to record a few new songs. Pacific Records, our old label, was paying for the studio time in hopes to woo us back to them. I wasn’t convinced that we’d be able to make any kind of waves in today’s ever-changing music business, but was intrigued by the idea of creating new music with Rex and Robbie.

  Rex was sitting at the mixing board, along with a recording engineer. He stood up as we entered and reached out to hug me. “It’s great to see you, brother. I can’t believe we’re all finally here.”

  “I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around the whole thing, to be honest with you,” I admitted.

  “Well, you’d better get used to it fast, we’ve got a shit ton of songs to run through and we can’t play them without our drummer.”

  It was good to see Rex so happy. He’d been through a lot (hell, I’d put him through a lot), and he and Roxie had literally saved my life after Pam died.

  “Roxie is so excited to have you back home. Your room is ready and waiting as usual.”

  Rex and Roxie had a guest house that had served as my home for two years. They took care of me when my world fell apart, and I owed them my life. They were the most generous people I had ever known and I learned a lot about being in the service of others from them.

  Rex was a spiritual man, with an almost Shaman-like presence. Many great singers from Jim Morrison to Bono had this kind of vibe and it made them very attractive to people. I had been drawn to him as a kid and I still found myself in awe of him at times.

  “I can’t believe she keeps that place empty for me. You guys should use that space and I can stay in a hotel.”

  “Use the ‘Jack Henry Suite’ for something else? Like what? Plus, what would we do with your drums?” He smiled. “Although, I must admit we did have another drummer staying there not too long ago.”

  “Is this Lucy’s guy?” I asked flatly.

  “His name is Bam and he’s her husband Jack,” he responded.

  “How the hell could you let her marry a drummer, Rex? What the fuck were you thinking?”

  Rex smiled even wider. “What can I say, Uncle Jack? She loves him.”

  I crossed my arms. “Don’t much care about that fleeting emotion, Rex. I’m worried about her being with a musician, a drummer no less.”

  “You’re so cruel to your own kind Jack, you always have been.”

  “Damn right. I hate drummers!”

  Rex laughed. “Well, rest assured, Bam’s one of the good ones.”

  “Guys or drummers?” I asked.

  “Both, actually. I think you’ll be impressed with Roses for Anna’s music and Bam’s playing.”

  “I’m not easily impressed.”

  “I’m aware,” he said. “But, you should know, he’s a big fan of yours, buddy.”

  “Shit. Are you kidding me?”

  “Nope.” He grinned. “He’s not supposed to know that I know that.”

  “Well, young marriages can be annulled, and if worse comes to worse, drummers and their bodies can easily disappear while on tour.”

  “Don’t worry brother, I’ve already fitted him for his own road case in case he ever hurts Lucy.” Rex laughed and showed me around the studio complex.

  “This place looks a lot less run-down than even five years ago,” I said, surveying my surroundings. Last time I’d visited Rex and Roxie, Rex had brought me here to listen to a couple of the bands rehearsing. I loved being in recording studios. They were like sacred ground to me.

  “Yeah. We did a big upgrade two years ago. Hired a new engineer.”

  “You’re shittin’ me.”

  “Yeah, dumbass, I’m shittin’ you.” Rex grinned. “Vic isn’t goin’ anywhere.”

  Vic Masters had been our engineer since almost the beginning of the band. He was an extension of us, another member, if you will, and I didn’t think I’d ever trust my drum tones to anyone else. Our producers might have changed from project to project, but Vic was always the engineer.

  Vic looked up briefly, smiled, nodded, then went right back to his work. I noticed my drums had already been set up and it sparked a feeling inside me I hadn’t felt in a long time. Until very recently, I hadn’t played in years. I’d started rehearsing on my own a few weeks ago, and the blisters and sore muscles were proof.

  Drums are a very demanding instrument, and time spent away from the drum kit is much like ignoring the gym. Getting back into drumming shape is slow and painful, and the fact that I was now approaching my mid-forties, certainly didn’t help.

  Vic had set my drum kit up in the center of the tracking room and had already began setting up microphones.

  “Wow, looks like we’re already set up to record.” I was both excited and nervous about this. “I didn’t know we’d be diving right in.”

  “Don’t worry about the mics. Just ignore them. I figured we may as well record our rehearsals so we can go back and review the “game tape” as a band.” Rex smiled reassuringly. “You’re not the only one that hasn’t played some of these songs in years.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve played a lot of the
m with your little merry band of imposters,” I challenged with a grin.

  “Oh, so we’re going to dive right in, Jackie?” He laughed. “Someone had to fly the RatHound flag while you were out hanging from a cliff face somewhere. Plus, the guys in my band don’t grumble as much as you two old ladies.”

  “Fair enough,” I relented. “How are Teddy and Spike? I hope they’re not pissed about being out of a job this summer.”

  “They’re great and they are excited for us, actually. They send their best and will be at the opening show.”

  “No pressure,” I said. “I can just imagine going out and shitting the bed in front of my replacement.”

  “Pressure? You’re Jack fucking Henry!” he joked. “Modern Drummer magazine’s 1991 Newcomer of the Year. This should be a cakewalk for you, unless magazines can’t be trusted.”

  “Well, obviously magazines can’t be trusted. People named you Sexiest Man Alive… twice!”

  It was good to be with my brothers-in-arms again. I can’t truly explain the bond that bandmates share. It exists somewhere between brotherhood and war buddies. Musicians share an intimacy that few people can ever understand, but, on the other hand, we’re selfish and often times, guarded. Taking the piss out of one another was the best way to keep each other on the same, level playing field.

  “Screw both of guys!” Robbie chimed in. “The only magazine that ever wanted me on a cover was MAD.”

  Laughter filled the air for the next half an hour, as we eased ourselves into the task at hand. I’d made the final tweaks on my drum kit and we were tuned up and ready to play.

  “No time like the present, gents. Shall we?” Rex said into his mic.

  “Whatta you want to start with, Jack?” Robbie asked.

  “I feel pretty solid on ‘Pages.’ How about that?”

  The guys nodded, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, I counted my band in.

  * * *

  Hadley