Page 24 of Fury
Occupy Yourself
Bethany, Lamesa, Texas
Standing on the elevated porch outside what had temporarily become the media room of the rodeo grounds office, Bethany shook her head. She was in Lamesa to help her most recently signed band work promo stuff with the radio stations before the opening of the rodeo. Taking an early plane into Midland, she’d driven over and was about to walk in on the group. Bethany Mason-Taylor, manager and promoter for Occupy Yourself.I still feel kinda like a fraud, she thought, then plastered on a grin and pulled the door open.
Chase was sprawled on the only armchair in true teenaged-boy fashion, legs over one arm, head tipped far back on the other, tossing corn chips in the air and catching them with his mouth. He paused, and slowly rolled his head to look at the door and then bolted to his feet, “Aunt Bethy!” It only took him two steps to get close enough to wrap his arms around her, picking her up and whirling them both around. Bethy was laughing hard by the time he stopped and put her feet back on the floor. Weaving for a moment, she grabbed the front of his tee for support.
“You swarmed me,” she accused and looked up into a carbon copy of Davy’s face grinning down at her.I’ll never get used to this. Chase had the Mason trademark dark hair and grey eyes, and over the past months, she’d seen a maturing in his face. A defining of his already square jaw, giving him just rugged enough features to ensure he was called handsome and not pretty. He looked a lot like her son, the cousin he’d never get to meet.
My nephew, she marveled. As she had every time she’d seen him. The day they met, he’d been slightly more reserved than today, but only until she had put him at ease by picking on Davy. She hadn’t been aware of the boy’s full story then, and when she’d learned that was his first real introduction to how a family could tease and play, it broke her heart all over again.That’s why I gave Michael up, so he’d have a normal life.
Those had been hard days. Not her darkest time, but close.
And here I am, nine months later, virtually okay. That was her sales pitch to herself, anyway. Her dreams put the lie to that every night, but no one would ever know.Except for Ty, and that doesn’t count. He’s still got his own demons.
“Okay,” she said, slapping her palms together. “Tell me what you’ve done, and we’ll sort out what’s left for me. Get everything lined up.” Swinging the laptop bag off her shoulder, she looked around for an outlet, finding one beside a small table. “Hook me up, boys.” Her energy set the tone for the next several hours, as she took calls and worked bookings around the other things already scheduled. One after the other, calls, e-mails, interviews—the never-ending cycle of promotion for a band relaunching their brand.
Resting her butt on the arm of the couch, she looked around at the group, grinning at the self-imposed labor divisions she saw. Benny Jones, the lead singer, was going over a printed spreadsheet, marking things in pink or yellow. That would be the swag delivered here yesterday. Armbands, beanies, buttons, drumsticks, and a few T-shirts would be handed out to VIP guests, or sold at a merchandise table. They’d been assigned a spot near the concession stand for the table, and that would be Bethy’s focus tomorrow.
“I know there are a few more things I should deal with today, but I’m beat, guys and gals.” Six faces turned and looked at her. “Two more interviews and I’m calling it, going to head to the hotel. This trip piled on top of a few busy days back in Nashville means my bed is calling.”
“You must have been up before daybreak to get to the airport,” Chase said, reaching over and grabbing a handful of chips. “No wonder you’re beyond tired.”
Looking around the room, she noted the band members had all stopped their activities. Apparently, her announcement provided the permission they needed to switch back to lounging around, bottles of water and soft drinks in hand.At least their nerves were eased by today’s early interviews. Benny was an old hand at this, but the rest of the group were less polished. Bethy glanced over at her nephew with a grin, thinking it was a good thing Mason hadn’t told Chase about the gig ahead of time. As it was, the young man looked wrung out. She knew if he’d had even a couple of extra days to worry and fuss, he would be a whole other level of exhausted. She was about to offer to take him to the hotel too when the door abruptly opened.
Bethy’s breath caught in her chest as she watched a striking redhead walk in, complete with a full, thick beard and an attitude of owning all the space around him.It’s just not fair, she thought, assuming he was one of the radio promoters.Why are the good-looking ones always in out of the way places like Lamesa?
Benny stood, hand out, evidently thinking the same thing about the guy, but before she could move forward, Chase was hooting with laughter, yelling, “Fury,dude. Totally didn’t expect to see you here!” He turned to her, a delighted grin in place on his face as he introduced them, “Aunt Bethy, this is Fury. He’s one of Dad’s trusted few in Fort Wayne.” Twisting, he held out a hand to point at her, speaking to Fury, “This is my best Aunt Bethy. She’s the coolest. She runs the record label for Dad, and signed Benny’s band.”
Standing slowly, she took the look Fury was giving her, half-appraising and half-aggravated. She held out her hand to shake, and when he wrapped his fingers around hers, she felt a zinging awareness of him zip through her and watched his eyes widen and then develop a laser intensity as he studied her. Shoulders rising and falling as he pulled in a deep breath, he reintroduced himself, “Fury. Otherwise known as your escort while in town.”
With a nod, she responded, “Bethany Mason-Taylor, otherwise known as the awesome Aunt Bethy.”
He smiled at her, white teeth flashing in the midst of that dark red beard and she found herself smiling back at him.Damn.
***
Fury
Damn, she’s still so fuckin’ pretty, was the thought that trailed through Fury’s head when she introduced herself after the fiasco of Chase’s mouth running ragged.Always so fuckin’ pretty.
It had been the moment of truth, a scene he’d been dreading since rolling out of Chicago, and the weak fizzle of nonrecognition burned.Nothing at all like I thought it might go. It killed him that he so clearly remembered her, had held on to every moment he had with her, and she didn’t recognize him. Not a bit.Again. Her eyes were clear and without guile, and without a single ounce of acknowledgment. A decade and a half was a long time, and he’d changed, sure. Remade the businessman she’d known for that week in Nashville into the outlaw standing before her. Still…shit.
He wasn’t sure what he’d expected and knew even less what he’d hoped for, but it sure wasn’t being forgotten—cleared from her life so completely that she didn’t know him from a fence post.
Pretty, and hella smart, but he already knew that. She’d been running one of Mason’s businesses for nearly half her life. Lifting his chin, listening to Chase being a chatterbox, he tried to convince himself he could pull this off.I’m still a con man, right?
Fury stood at the back of the room for the next half an hour, keeping all occupants within view as Bethy finished the final interviews scheduled for today. He had been pissed when he came through the door, ready to tear someone a new asshole. Chase had flown in early but didn’t wait at the airport for his ride; the resourceful little bastard had grabbed a cab, leaving Fury searching the not-large, not-small airport fruitlessly because his charge had fled the scene. So, he hadn’t been in the best of moods when he walked in.
At least until he had seen Bethany. Seen and watched her, liking everything she showed him. Loving everything he saw. The years had changed her, but in only good ways.
All the hard in Mason had found a soft counterpart in this woman. Lips, cheeks, jaw…the only piece of her that matched her brother were her eyes. As with Mason, when she looked at you, it was with certainty that you would be doing whatever she desired. Those eyes saw way too much; they looked deep inside where you would prefer the shadows remain, but she picked her way around those feelings, giving you an assurance that all would be well.
Chase adored her, that was clear, no matter that they hadn’t been acquainted very long. He’d only known her since Utah, a marker in time that every Rebel club member knew well. Shooter was doing time in Cali right now for kidnapping and damaging his own daughter, while Judge, the nephew, had been put to ground.
“Can I have everyone’s attention for a moment?” Fury swept the group with his gaze, marking each member of the group from the information Myron had fed him. So many more ties to the club than most folks would see at a glance.
Occupy Yourself was an up-and-coming restart band, having done well on the charts and the tour circuit for several years, before imploding because of the addictions of their lead singer. Ben Jones, baby brother to Slate, Fort Wayne’s chapter president, had rolled into town and promptly drank himself into rehab, leaving his brother to clean up his mess. Something Slate seemed good at doing, as if he had a lot of practice somewhere in his past.
