Page 34 of Tracing Holland (The Hold Me NSB #2)

“So he didn’t jump you on stage, just the parking lot,” Holland teases, handing me a wet cloth for my eye after we’re safely back on the bus.

“Seriously. Again with the eye? What the hell…”

“Same spot? Let me see that.”

I lower the cloth so she can examine my face. “Well, the good news is the bruising from the first one is hiding the second one.”

I grunt and pull away, returning the cloth to try to soothe the pulsating heat.

“I messaged Darlene to see if she can track down some ice for us. There should still be some in the green room.”

“I have a better idea. How about you release me to go beat the shit out of Wes.”

She rolls her eyes. “You know that’s not happening.” She takes my other hand and kisses it. “Not a chance we’re risking these fingers.”

I smirk. “Whatever. Do you know how hard it was not to hit him back?”

“Do you know how hard it was to watch you get hit in the face and not let you?”

I give her a look. “I’m just saying, you owe me now.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh really, is that so?”

“Yep. You should make it up to me.”

“Uh-huh, and what do you have in mind?”

I shrug. “I’m flexible as long as it involves you not wearing clothing.”

She laughs and shoves me before leaning back and taking my hand again. “Seriously, though. I’m sorry, Luke. You don’t deserve this. If it happens again we should press charges.”

My gaze shoots to hers in surprise. “Really? You’d support that?”

“Of course. He’s way over the line. I’m not going to watch him hurt you again, but I don’t think he will.

I’m pretty sure he gets it now. Honestly, his face when Laurel was yelling at him?

I bet he sent that message before you talked to him on the phone.

He probably forgot about it and had an ‘oh, shit’ moment. ”

“Yeah, I’m not giving any awards since his change of heart still involved punching me in the face.”

She smiles and traces my fingers. “No, I don’t blame you. Just pointing out that once the dust settles he’ll put all the pieces together and realize what a jackass he’s been.”

“So you’re really not going to let me kick him in the face or off the tour?”

She laughs. “Honestly, right now, I want to let you do both, but I can’t do that to Spence and the others.

Without Wes, I don’t know how we could finish the tour.

” She sighs. “I’ll talk to him after he calms down, though.

I really think he’ll stop this insanity, but if he pulls anything else, don’t even hesitate next time. ”

“You promise?”

She grins. “I’ll be standing by as your second.”

I’m jerked awake by my phone in the pitch black of my bunk. Parker’s name flashes on my screen for no reason that can possibly be good.

“Parker, what’s up?” I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“Luke? Hey, sorry, man. I didn’t know who else to call. I didn’t want to raise alarms or anything, and I know you and Jesse are close.” The urgency in his voice sobers me, and I prop myself up in my bunk. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, it’s just that we’re supposed to roll out in an hour and Jesse’s still not back. We don’t know where he is.”

“What?”

I pull back my phone to glance at the time.

“He left with some girls and that was the last we heard from him.”

“Where are you now?”

“In our bus.”

“Ok, hang on, I’ll be there in a minute.”

I hang up and force my feet to the floor. I hadn’t been asleep long, but long enough to ensure that my mind and body are not remotely ready for this.

Part of me wonders if this is a prank as I make my way down the stairs, past Holland’s bus, the crew’s, and all the way to Limelight. But as soon as I see their ashen faces, I know this is no joke.

“Have you contacted your tour manager yet?” I ask, joining them in their lounge.

They shake their heads, clearly out of their depth.

“We’re afraid we’ll get him in trouble.”

“Ok, well, you need to do that first. I’m sure he’s fine, but your manager needs to know there may be a change of plans as soon as possible so he can adjust. You don’t have to raise alarms, just say Jesse’s not back from his night out.”

They nod.

“So what exactly happened?”

“We were at this bar and met these girls. They were flirting with him all night and he said he was just going to go to another party for a while. He was supposed to meet us back at the bar a couple hours later so we could ride back together,” Parker explains.

“Yeah, we waited for another hour after that,” Derrick adds. “We’ve been calling him and texting and everything, but nothing.”

“We’re sorry to bother you with this, but if he’s ignoring us, we thought he might not ignore you.”

“What bar?”

“Chadwick’s. 6 th and Arch.”

“Shit, seriously? Arch Street?” I mutter.

They shrug. “We hang there all the time.”

I shake my head. “Fine, whatever. And you didn’t know these girls?”

“No. You don’t think…” They look ready to puke.

“No, Jesse is fine. I guarantee you, but I’m sure he’s not going to take my call either.”

“How do you know?”

I give them a look. “I invented this, trust me. Just tell your manager you’re not going to be leaving when you thought. We have a long break before the ACC so it shouldn’t be a big deal unless you guys had something scheduled in between.”

They shake their heads. “I don’t think so, but I’m not sure.”

“Exactly. So call your manager and work on that. I’ll take care of Jesse.”

I’m not surprised when Jesse doesn’t immediately answer my text, so I try a call next. I expect the same result, but I’m relieved by the click of a connection.

“Hello…”

My heart sinks.

“Shit, are you high, man?”

“Luke?”

“Where are you?”

“Um…”

“Jesse, I need you to focus for a second. Where are you?”

“Flower cave.”

“Huh?”

“Flower cave.”

The line goes dead and I curse again.

“Hey, guys, does ‘flower cave’ mean anything to you?” I call over to the others. They glance up and seem relieved.

“You got ahold of him?”

“Yeah, but all I got was ‘flower cave.’”

“It’s that one park!” Reece cries. “We went there and got wasted after the Underground Masterclass show, remember? There’s that tunnel with all the hippie graffiti. We called it a flower cave.”

“Where is it?”

“Um…shit, let me think.” He pulls out his phone and I wait as he searches. “Ok, here it is. Lewis Park. It’s nowhere near Chadwick’s. Not sure how he got there.”

“Let me see that.” I scan the map. “Alright, you guys stay here and put out fires until we get back. I’ll go get him. Text me that address.”

Lewis Park is about as shady and uninviting as I expect. I tell the cab to wait for me, and even he’s not thrilled at the prospect, but I promise to reward him for it.

I also send Tess a message letting her know I had to run a quick errand to Newark, thus adding to the train of unhappy people in my wake.

I have no idea how to find a tunnel with hippie flowers on it, but use my phone as a flashlight when the dim path lights aren’t enough.

My heart is racing, blood pounding in my ears in the unsettling silence, but I try not to show my fear.

I’ve played this game way more than I should have.

I know I have to look like I belong if I have any hope of surviving a confrontation.

I don’t see other midnight loiterers, however; just me, my fear, and another hash mark for my tally of stupid, impulsive decisions.

Parker and the others had wanted to come with me, but of course I had refused the most logical option.

I shake off the self-criticism, leaving that for later, and focus back on my present challenge.

Suddenly, I can hear voices to the left, and hate that the new direction would take me off the main path.

Still, it’s my only clue so I change course and shoot Parker a text letting him know I’m here, heard something, and he should call the cops if he doesn’t hear from me in ten minutes.

Sure enough, after about a hundred feet, I see a very distinctive tunnel. It’s surprisingly better lit than the rest of the park, allowing for the clear illumination of a collection of lethargic bodies strewn over the ground.

I mutter a curse and move toward it, absorbing as much of the scene as I can while still maintaining my casual approach.

“Hey, man,” someone calls out. I find the voice, but don’t recognize the speaker. He holds something up to me, and I shake my head, swallowing my disgust.

“No, thanks. Just looking for a friend. Jesse Everett?”

“Jesse?” It’s a woman this time, three actually, when I turn toward the new voice sandwiched between a set of groupie clones.

“Wow, hello there.” She staggers to her feet, and before I know what’s happening, collapses against me.

I catch her as she giggles and grabs me way beyond what’s necessary to establish her balance.

Annoyed, but fully aware she may be my best hope at finding Jesse, I let her get her fill.

“Do you know where he is?”

I scan the remaining bodies, but none appear to be a strung-out rocker who’s about to get his ass handed to him.

“He was here.”

“Ok, and where is he now?”

She gives me a coy look. “We had a blast. He didn’t tell us about you, though. We would have waited.” There is absolutely no secret in her eyes. “Yeah, definitely would have waited, wow.”

I roll my own. “Where is he now?” I repeat, finished with junkie politics.

She points to the other end of the tunnel. I force her hands away from me and start navigating through the maze of zombies. I don’t like that I still haven’t seen him, and curse when I reach the opening to find a new cluster of passed-out partiers.

“Jesse?” I call into the darkness. “Jesse Everett?”

“Luke?”

This time I recognize the weak voice and turn my flashlight to the right. “Shit…” I mutter when I see him. He’s collapsed against a tree, barely conscious.

I step over the others and pull him to his feet, weaving my arm under his shoulders.

“Can you walk?”

“I don’t…” His head rolls down, and I can tell he’s wrecked. From what, I have no idea. I check for obvious needle marks but don’t see any.