As she looked round their growing family group, Lori thought back to the first Silver Lake BBQs. Listening to the kids laughing at something on tv and to the boys laughing at one of Paul’s jokes at Grey’s expense and watching Maddy and Kola deep in conversation about Native American names and their meanings made her smile. There had been laughter and tears out here many times but, as an extended family unit, they’d grown in number and lived to tell the tale.
In her jeans pocket, her cell phone buzzed. She slipped it out and read the message on the screen. It was from another unknown number.
“I’ve sucked your husband’s cum off my fingers. He tastes so sweet.”
Trembling, Lori blocked the number and put the phone away, praying that no one had noticed her reaction to the message.
First thing on Monday morning, the Silver Lake machine roared back into life again as all three band members gathered in the lounge at JJL. Laughing at how their lives had changed, Jake and Paul both arrived at the same time. They’d already said their good mornings at the school then driven in convoy up the highway. Two cars behind Jake had been Grey. He too had had school run duty but to the high school to drop Becky off. Grumbling as he entered the lounge, he said, “That senior boy was hanging about waiting for my baby girl.”
“Who?” asked Jake feigning innocence.
“That kid that was at your workshop. The one with the long hair and the foreign-sounding name.”
“Dorrian?”
“Yeah,” muttered Grey, heading straight for the coffee pot.
“He’s a good kid,” commented Jake. “Talented too.”
“She’s too young to be dating senior boys!”
Both Jake and Paul laughed at their bandmate.
“We’ll see if you’re both laughing when its Wren or Melody hanging out with seniors,” growled Grey as he stomped over to sit on the empty couch.
“He might have a point there,” conceded Paul, a sudden vision of the future flashing before his eyes.
“Maybe,” agreed Jake with a grin. “Right, what’s the plan for today?”
“Bass tracks for Ghost, Bugs and Sting In The Tail,” stated Grey. “Gets the heavyweights laid down first.”
“And Outside Edge, if there’s time,” added Dr Marrs, stepping into the lounge from his office.
“If there’s time,” nodded Grey. “I need to leave by three.”
“Jake,” called out the producer. “Did you get those re-writes finished?”
“More or less. A few bits to tidy up.”
“Get out to the rehearsal room and finish them off,” instructed Dr Marrs. “You’ve only got the morning out there. It’s booked out every afternoon this week. School drum clinics.”
“Yeah,” sighed Paul. “Tell me about it. I’ve been talked into taking two of them later in the week.”
“Good luck with that,” laughed Jake. “Let me grab my guitar from the truck and I’ll head out back.”
“Here’s the keys,” said Dr Marrs, tossing him a pink fluffy pompom keyring. “You’ll need to turn the AC on when you get out there. Alarm’s already off.”
Raising an eyebrow at the fluffy keyring, Jake nodded, “I’ll be back in for lunch.”
Every small sound seemed to echo round him as Jake opened up the rehearsal room. The whir of the lights made him jump. The drone from the air conditioning seemed deafening. Alone in the space, he felt uneasy. Usually, he was content to practice out here on his own but, after his close encounter with Nicole, he felt on edge.
Realising he only had a couple of hours, he wasted no time and was soon sitting down on the low practice stage with his guitar and his journal. Despite the hours he’d put in down in the basement over the weekend, Jake still had one solo to re-write. Door To Another Life was a track they were all struggling with. It was a raw emotional song that reflected Rich’s last journey through the mountains. They’d collectively agreed that it needed a long solo at the end of the track that would diminish. Something that would echo their bandmate’s life ebbing away.
Soon, the background noises of the rehearsal space were forgotten as Jake focussed on developing the original solo for the song. In his mind’s eye, he was seeing the tall, dense trees of the Smoky Mountains, visualising the narrow winding trail his friend would have walked and eventually imagining it opening out onto the ledge where he was found. It was testing his talents to add the colours and emotion into the solo that went from a fiery sunset image to the dark starlit sky of midnight.
Time ceased to have any meaning as he played.
He never heard the door opening behind him. Never heard it close. He was oblivious to the soft footsteps that approached him. Feeling fingers running through his hair, he spun round, hazel eyes wide with fright and found himself face to face with Nicole.
“Well, this is an unexpected pleasure,” she said, gazing down at him, her desire for him obvious.
“No, it’s not,” stated Jake bluntly as he laid down his guitar. He moved to the side, out of her reach. “And keep your hands to yourself, please.”
“And why would I do that when you seemed to enjoy the attention before?” Nicole stepped closer to him and reached out to run her hand down the inside of his denim-clad thigh.
“Stop!” snapped Jake, standing up and stepping away from her. “I’m not playing your games here, Nicole. I’m a happily married man. I am not interested.”
Eyeing the bulge in his jeans, the music teacher smiled and took a step towards him, “I beg to differ.”
Pressing herself up against him, she rested her hand on his crotch.
“One quick
