Michelle Valentine - Rock the Beat

“They’ll be glad to hear that you’re finally sympathetic to them needing so much time off,” Tyke teases.

I rub my forehead. “I gave them a lot of shit for getting themselves tied down once it started affecting the band’s schedule. It seemed insensitive to us because we still lived and breathed just the band.”

“And now…” he prods.

“Now I get it. I don’t want to leave Holly here. Leaving her will kill me,” I admit.

“You love her,” his voice is as sure as the words he speaks. He’s always known me better than anyone else.

“I do.” I don’t even hesitate when I answer because I know I’ve never said anything truer in my life.

Tyke nods. “It seems that we’re all changing, going in different directions in life. I suspected this would happen one day. I just never imagined it would happen while we’re still on top.”

I furrow my brow. “What are you talking about? Short vacations don’t mean the band is breaking up. You need to get that thought out of your head. We’re all finding something else to love other than just the band and music. Don’t you see that we’re all finally starting to live our lives? No one is calling it quits.”

I don’t understand his line of thinking. My brother may be great at seeing the bigger picture in most things, but he’s way off base on this one. No way will Black Falcon ever break up. That’s just fucking insane.

Tyke gives me a sad smile. “I hope you’re right, baby brother.” He claps me on the back. “Come on. Give me the grand tour of your new business.”

We spend the next couple of hours walking the dirt track, checking out all the rabbit hills, doubles and tabletop jumps. This place is really coming together. When you see it from this perspective, it really is amazing how much easier and quicker money makes things. Everything is newly painted and the porch on Holly and Bill’s house is finally complete, along with the office being sandblasted. I even have a few computer nerds on the property hooking up new electronic equipment all over the place.

Shit is really coming together. Not only here at Mountain Time, but with Bill and Holly as well. The initial shock of Bill’s diagnosis was hard for Holly, and I’m not sure she’s quite over it yet, but I think once she gets involved in his medical care that will help. Holly is a fixer, so she’ll want to know all the details about her father’s condition and ways she can help ease his discomfort.

She’s never once mentioned her mother to me again. I think there are some things a person just can’t forgive. Maybe with time and a lot of soul-searching she’ll figure out that situation on her own, but I’m not going to push her. It’s her choice if she wants to reconcile with her mother. I don’t know if I ever would if I were in her position.

I guess only time will tell.

As we’re walking back toward the office, Tyke asks, “What’s going on with the beats for the new tracks? Have you worked on them at all?”

I shove my hands into my pockets. “I’ve thought about a few of the songs, but I have to be honest, man, my mind has been on other things lately.”

“Things as in Holly,” he says filling in the blanks. “I suppose I should’ve accepted that. When we talked about her on the phone, I figured she was your main priority at the moment. Riff and Noel haven’t worked on anything either.”

The disgruntled tone in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed. “Are you pissed? We still have loads of time. You know shit will come together and flow once we’re in the studio. Don’t sweat it.”

“That’s the problem, Trip. I’m the only one of us that does sweat it. I write the songs and ninety percent of the time, I’m the one who develops the melody too. It wasn’t always like that. I remember a time when all of you wanted to chip in and put in the work to make the album kick ass.” He scrubs his hand down his face.

I stop dead in my tracks and turn towards him. “Is that why you’re really here so early—to lecture me about not working hard enough on the album?”

“That’s part of the reason.”

I flinch and let out an exasperated laugh. “You’ve got to be joking. Have you lectured the other two about this, or are you only going to single me out as usual.”

“No, I plan on telling them too,” Tyke answers.

“Good. If I’m going to get a talking to, then they should to. You should’ve been elected band leader. God knows Noel doesn’t do much with his power except exploit it for his own personal gain.”

He shakes his head. “No. I’m responsible for enough as it is and quite frankly, I’m tired of it.”

Alarms go off in my brain. Fuck. I don’t like where this conversation is leading. “What do you mean, Tyke? What are you not telling me?”

Tyke takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m thinking of leaving the band.”

“WHAT?!” My heart bangs against my ribs. I can’t believe what I’m fucking hearing. “What the fuck do you mean? Wha—I don’t…I mean…Damn it! Why?”

He frowns. “I’m ready to branch out and do my own thing for a while. I want to be able to perform the music that I write, the exact way I envision it in my mind.”

I throw my hands up. “You can do that right now. Running off and starting over isn’t the answer.”

He tilts his head. “It is, Trip. This is something I’ve been thinking about for a while now, and this is the perfect time to branch out on my own. I’m not saying I’ll leave the band forever. I just need a break, like the rest of you, only my break from Black Falcon won’t be because of a woman.”

Every fiber in my body buzzes with emotion, and for the first time in a long while, I feel like crying. “I’m begging you to not do this. It will ruin everything.”

He places his hand on my shoulder. “It’s all going to work out. You’ll see. Thousands of bass players will line up to fill in for me. You guys won’t even miss a beat.”

I stare into my brother’s eyes and see the conviction in them. He wants to do this. Who am I to deny him of his new dream? Nothing lasts forever, and I guess even identical twins need their own space.

I sigh. “When do you plan on telling the others?”

His lips pull into a tight frown. “I don’t know. It’s going to be soon, though. I think it may be after we record the new album. Don’t say anything. I owe it to them to be the one to tell them.”

I swallow down the lump building in my throat. “It seems like you’ve already made up your mind.”

“I think I have. This is something I need to do.”

“Then you should do it. It’s not like we wouldn’t take you back. You can try a solo gig and then come back after you’ve gotten it out of your system,” I reason.

“Yeah…” Tyke clears his throat. “We’ll see.”

Before we can delve any further into the topic, the Mustang pulls down the driveway. Holly liked that car so much I went ahead and bought it for her. You would’ve thought I’d given her the moon with how crazy she went when I’d handed her the title and the keys. It’s an amazing feeling to have someone who appreciates me, so I don’t mind spoiling her in return.

Holly helps Bill out of the car and waves to Tyke and I. I pull my hand from my pocket and wave at her in return as I think about how, in this moment, I finally feel complete. Too bad things can’t stay like this. A shit storm is brewing, and it’s all going to hit the fucking fan once Tyke breaks the news to our band brothers. Shit’s about to get fucking real.

Between the Raindrops

Holly

I glance up from the registration table at the long line of riders here to sign up for the races this weekend. Every inch of the property at Mountain Time Speed Track seems like it has someone on it. Campers, sponsorship tents, scouts, riders, spectators, and our staff span out as far as the eye can see. Thanks to donations from Tyke and the rest of the Black Falcon guys we have been able to staff the two food pavilions, and hire a clean-up crew and experienced track hands. This place hasn’t ever been this busy. If I weren’t bombarded with getting everyone through this line as quick as I can so they can practice on the track, I would cry.

Screams erupt all around me as my boyfriend makes his way over. Trip shakes his head with a big grin on his face when he catches me staring at him. His black t-shirt clings to his chiseled chest and shows off the definition in his toned body. The tattoos covering his arms may give the impression of bad-boy, but I know now that there’s nothing but a big softy hiding behind that filthy mouth.

Trip twists the baseball cap on his head backwards and bends down to kiss my cheek. “Hey, beautiful. How are you doing? Do you need me to help you?”

I shake my head. “The line will take three times as long if you sit here with me. People will line up to see you rather than register. So as much as I would like to take you up on that, I’m going to have to pass.”

A random female fan yells, “WE LOVE YOU, TRIP!” from the back of the crowd somewhere.

I give him an I-told-you-so look and he laughs. “Good point. I’ll send Max over to help you out.”

I smile. “Good idea.”

He kisses my lips. “I’ll see you in a bit. I’m going to head over to the hotel and catch up with the guys. Tyke texted me a few minutes ago and told me Noel and Riff just made it in with their families.”

“I’m nervous about meeting them,” I admit.

He touches my cheek. “They’re going to love you.”

The crowd starts chanting, “Black Falcon. Black Falcon. Black Falcon.” The noise is deafening.

“Is it like this for you all the time?” I ask as I shove a finger in my ear.

He nods. “Always. I’ve got to go, before they jump over this table.”

“Go!” I shout to him over the crowd.

I can see he’s reluctant to leave me, but we both know there’s no way in hell he can stay out here and help. I push his arm and shoo him away until he finally turns and pushes his way back through the crowd.

I purse my lips and let out a long breath. This is some crazy life I’ve gotten myself mixed up in, but being with Trip is worth all the craziness.

The rest of the day goes on without a hitch. The riders made it through qualifying runs, and moved into the quarterfinals. This event is going better than expected. There are even a few scouts out there checking out the riders in this open class event.

After all the bikes clear out, and there’s nothing but chatter from the campers, I breathe a sigh of relief.

We did it.

“Checking out your success?” Max asks next to me.

I cross my arms over my chest. “Yeah. It was pretty great.”

“Agreed,” he says while digging a small scrap of paper out of his pocket. He hands it to me. “Check it out.”

I snatch the paper from his hand as he waves it in front of my face. “What is this?”

He chuckles. “Open it and see.”

I unfold the paper, and a very male script is scrolled onto the paper asking Max to call him and then listing a phone number.

My eyes widen. “You met someone?”

Max grins. “I did. He’s nice…and hot. I’m excited.”

I laugh and hand the paper back to him while he practically glows. “I’m happy for you, Max. Everything is falling into place for you.”

“And for you,” he adds. “Trip and you are great together. I’m glad you ditched the asshole. Trip is so much better for you.”

“He is. I love him so much.” I give him a sad smile, not knowing if I can really ever forgive myself for not seeing the signs for how Jackson treated him for so long, but Max finally being in a good place is a start.

“I checked the county jail’s website. Jackson hasn’t made bail yet, but I’m sure he will. One of these days he’s going to land himself in prison. I can’t wait until we have our day in court and tell the world what a rotten bastard he is,” Max says.

I take his hand in mine. “And I’ll be right by your side.”

He smiles. “Thank you, Holl. I’m glad I have a best friend like you.”

A text message chimes in on my phone.

Trip: I’m waiting at your house for you. I’m excited you’re meeting my friends.

Freshman year…

LANE