Page 42 of Fractured Rhythm

Cassie:Still on for lunch. There’s a new Indian place I want to try up the block.

Holly:Great. And why are you evading my questions?

Cassie:Busy over here. See you at noon.

Holly:You better have loads of details for me when I see you.

I would probably regret meeting her, but I had to talk to someone, and it definitely wasn’t going to be Jax or Tristan—or Bash.

BASH

I stared atmy phone for the hundredth time that morning, but she still hadn’t responded to my texts. I know I’d said she had to make the next move, but I thought an innocuous text asking about her morning would’ve hopefully sparked some sort of conversation.

But, crickets.

Then I’d followed it up with that picture. Maybe it’d been too much.

“Dude, you with us?” Jax asked.

We were at the studio to audition drummers today, and I’d have rather been anywhere but here. Jax was sprawled out on the couch next to me, while Tristan sat at the soundboard with Rick, one of the studio’s soundboard operators. Jax looked like he didn’t have a care in the world, while I was a tense mess. We were going to replace my best friend. With what? Some guy who would never be Jamie.

Fuck. This was going to be a disaster. I’d played with session drummers a few times while Jamie had been in rehab over the years, but for the most part, the only drummer I’d ever played with since I first picked up a guitar almost twenty years ago was Jamie. We had a rhythm. We’d always had. And now that was fractured—gone—and I was supposed to learn to trust some new guy.

I was spiraling, and I needed a drink. Jax had brought in some beers, but I needed my whiskey. I was a mess, but I did my best to hold it in. The guys didn’t need to see me unravel. Not after we were finally getting back on track. I was back in a writing groove with six songs done. I couldn’t derail myself or the guys.

“You okay, man?” Tristan asked, spinning in his seat to stare at me.

Hell, how long had he been staring at me? There was question, with a touch of concern, in his eyes.

“Yeah. Fine. Just weird, you know,” I rambled off.

“I know, but we’ll find someone great. No one will be like Jamie, but we’ll find someone to fit,” Tristan said, always the voice of reason.

How the fuck was the guy so freaking calm all the time?

“Yeah. This isn’t about replacing Jamie, man. We need to find someone who can play our songs and work with us. There’s a lot of talent out there, and some of those audition tapes were sick. No one is expecting us to go on tour anytime soon, so we have some time,” Jax said, sitting up and bouncing his foot on the floor.

“Yeah. Right. We’ll find someone who works,” I muttered as the first guy came in.

“Jacob, right?” Tristan said, looking at the list of names in front of him.

“Yeah. Wow. I can’t believe I’m actually here. Massive fan, dudes, massive. Gutted when Jamie died. He was an absolute legend,” Jacob gushed as he shook each of our hands.

“Yeah. Legend,” I echoed.

“Sorry, man. I know you guys like grew up together, right? I’ve read every article about you guys. I hope I can do him justice. I mean, I’m not going to be him, because, man, Jamie fucking Steel—”

“How about you play something?” Tristan said, interrupting the guy.

“What? Yeah, sorry about that. Just a massive fan,” he said before climbing behind the kit. He twirled his drumsticks three times—just like Jamie used to do—and I tried not to walk out of the room.

Jacob launched into the drum solo from Metallica’s “Enter Sandman.” He was pretty decent, never missing a beat. I looked over at Jax and Tristan. They kept their expressions calm, but I knew they were into it. Maybe not into the guy’s starstruck gushing, but the kid was a good drummer. Not Jamie, but good.

Jacob switched over to one of our songs, “Monsters,” the beat heavy. It was a song I’d written in high school. I remembered Jamie trying to figure out the perfect solo to go with it. We’d argued about it for days before he’d come up with this. It’d ended up being a major single on our first album. My gut tightened, and I struggled to breathe.

It should’ve been Jamie’s hair flipping around, flashing us his trademark grin, not this kid. I bit the inside of my cheek. Maybe I should’ve grabbed that whiskey. I knew today would be hard. I didn’t know it would possibly destroy me.

“That was great, man,” Jax said, his voice cutting through my pain, and I steadied myself, focusing on Jacob and not getting lost in my memories.

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