Jagged Addiction: Jagged Ivory Series, #3

By Lashell Collins

When Jagged Ivory's bassist, Benji Staffon, almost died of an overdose in the middle of their European tour, he knew that he had finally hit bottom. An outsider almost from the moment he was born, drugs had long been his way of coping with the loneliness and the fear. But he knows that he has to get clean now, because his Jagged Ivory bandmates are the only real family he's ever had, and disappointing them again is simply not an option.

 

Fae Miller is an orphan. Her father died when she was young, and she watched her mother kill herself slowly because of the grief. Music is the only thing that kept her sane through it all. And her crush on Jagged Ivory's bassist led her to pick up the instrument herself. Now, working the backline for one of the biggest rock groups on the planet, she suddenly finds herself thrust into Benji Staffon's orbit and into his tortured life.

 

Can these two lost souls make a real and genuine connection, or will his addiction tear them both apart?

 

This is the second edition of this book and not a new title.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lashell Collins
• Release date: Oct 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9798224049547

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Y ou look nervous, she said softly as she watched him moving around the small room and gathering up his things.

He didn't reply. Instead, he simply pulled open the drawer and reached inside, picking up the small stack of clean shirts that were neatly folded there. He shuffled over to the bed where his open duffle bag sat waiting, and carefully placed the clothing he held in his hands into the bag.

Are you? she asked quietly, searching his face as he steadily went about his task. Nervous, I mean?

Benji stood for a moment, thinking about her question.

Was he nervous?

Slowly, he nodded his head. Sure. Don't you think you'll be nervous?

Yeah. I suppose so, she whispered, tucking a strand of her thick red hair behind her ear. Bet you won't miss the food, she said lightly, trying to lift the mood in the room a little.

Benji smiled.

No. His normally quiet voice was definitive, but he couldn't hide his amusement. I won't be missing the five-star, gourmet mystery meat du jour.

She giggled at his response, and he stopped and looked at her for a moment. He was going to miss her.

Beth had made the last three weeks of his three-month stint in rehab an almost pleasant experience. She had been somewhat combative when she first arrived at the facility, especially since she was not there by choice. But she had slowly come around.

Beth was the nineteen year old daughter of an American politician, and her parents were paying a boatload of money to try and get her clean.

Again.

And to keep it quiet.

They had sent her all the way to England and had her admitted into the exclusive rehab center that so many of the wealthy and the privileged utilized.

Maynard Wellness and Treatment Clinic was a well-respected, highly effective program. But like any other rehab facility, a patient's success was only as good as his or her will and determination to get – and stay – clean.

Benji had embraced the program from the beginning. He'd had no choice. He knew that he had to make a serious lifestyle change or he was headed for a swift and irreversible trip to the grave. He didn't want that.

Although he would be the first to admit that there was a time in his life when he would have welcomed death. And like any terminally unhappy teenager, he had thought long and hard about the many ways to off oneself.

But that had been a long time ago.

Back before the good stuff.

Before he realized that the bass wasn't just a toy, and that if he respected it, it might respect him back some day.

Before he had walked into a random audition that ended up changing the course of his life forever.

Beth was quiet again as he continued to pack his things. When all of his clothes were neatly stored in his bag, he walked over to the tiny dresser once more and picked up his small stack of comic books and graphic novels. His constant companions.

Want me to leave the Scott Pilgrim ones for you? he asked quietly, teasing her.

No! Beth said emphatically, sounding offended as she glared at him.

I've seen you sneaking a peek at 'em when you think I'm not looking, he smiled.

She rolled her soft brown eyes at his comment.

I don't read those goofy things, she insisted.

Mmm hmm, he mumbled, still smiling.

Well, she said sheepishly after a slight pause. Maybe just Volume 3. So I can finish it.

With a silent smile, Benji slipped the book out of the pile and handed it to her before placing the others into his bag and zipping it up.

Thanks, she said softly. Clutching the book to her chest, she sighed. I'm really going to miss you, you know. I don't know how I'm going to get through the rest of my time here without you. You're pretty cool for an old guy.

Benji turned and looked at her with an amused expression. Old guy?

She nodded at him, trying to look serious.

Benji smiled at her, remembering their mutual shock when they had learned each other's ages. He couldn't believe that she was only nineteen, and she nearly fell off her chair when he told her that he had just turned thirty.

Her reaction had made him feel old. And sometimes when they talked, her youth took him by surprise all over again. But they had somehow become friends in spite of the age difference, and talking to her about their shared issues had been every bit as useful as all of the group therapy sessions.

So, he said, changing the subject, assuming that the rest of the tour goes okay for me, and you get yourself out of here on time, we still have a date, right?

Yep. Madison Square Garden in two months, she smiled. I'll be there. I can't believe I actually know a member of Jagged Ivory personally. My friends are totally gonna freak when I tell them I made out with you in rehab! Man, what a story, she exclaimed with a big grin, and Benji laughed at her.

Yeah, well let's not go spreading that around, okay? he said quietly. I'm sure hookups in rehab are frowned upon.

Right. Only it wasn't an actual hookup, remember? she asked pointedly, giving him a disappointed glare.

Benji rolled his eyes, refusing to feel bad about his decision. Yes, I remember, he sighed. And I know you don't exactly understand it now, but one day you will. I stand by my decision.

Because of my age, I know, she said with an exasperated sigh. I thought rock stars didn't care about that kind of thing. The younger the better!

Beth, he said, touching his fingers to her chin and gently lifting it so he could look into her eyes. It had nothing to do with your age, and you know it. You were in a vulnerable place at the time, and I wasn't about to take advantage of that.

I'm not vulnerable anymore, she quietly pouted.

Yeah, baby girl… you are, he whispered, lightly rubbing his thumb over her cheek. I know you're not taking this seriously, Beth, but you really need to. You are a beautiful girl and you have so much going for you. Don't be so eager to throw your life away like I almost did. Leaning in, he sweetly kissed her forehead.

Benji? Are you scared? she asked quietly, looking up at him through her red bangs.

He stared at her for a long moment as he continued to look into her eyes. Then he looked away and moved his bag over so that he could sit down on the bed next to her.

He took a slow, deep breath and let it out silently as he looked down at the mottled pattern on the tile floor.

I'm terrified, he answered quietly.

Beth stared at him for a moment, and then she reached out and touched his long brown, wavy hair, tucking a strand of it behind his ear so that she could study his profile.

Benji turned to look at her, his soulful brown eyes meeting hers.

Are you afraid that your friends won't accept you now that you're clean? she asked.

No, he responded with a slight shake of head. "I'm scared to death of disappointing them if I can't stay clean," he explained as he shook his head once more.

He was silent for a few seconds, and then said, My friends… my bandmates… they're my family. They're the only real family I've ever had. And I know what it's like to lose people because of the drugs. I've been on both sides of that. But I can't lose them. I don't know what I would do without them. And living clean is easy in here. But I don't know how to do that out there. And honestly, thinking about it scares the shit out of me.

CHAPTER 1

Ihave an addictive personality.

The words rattled around in Benji's head as he watched the scenery go by. It was a phrase he had been repeating to himself every morning since his first therapy session in rehab. As soon as his feet touched the floor in the morning. As soon as his eyes popped open, it was the first thought on his mind, and one that he knew he could never lose sight of again.

The thought tormented him now as he sat in the back of the car, his fingertips drumming rhythmically on his bass case as he stared out the window.

He was nervous.

He sighed and ran his hand over the fine whiskers on his lower cheek, scratching his tidy beard thoughtfully.

Why was he so nervous about this?

He rolled his eyes at that thought and shook his head.

Why wouldn't he be nervous?

He had been home from Maynard for exactly one week. If you could call his tiny, one-bedroom rental a home.

But in that time, he had purposely stayed away from everyone. He had even avoided most of the guys' phone calls. Not because he was trying to be antisocial or anything. He just knew instinctively that he needed a little time to himself, to get re-acclimated to being in the world sober.

It had been a long fucking time.

Now, he was about to go into his first rehearsal completely clean. What would that be like? How would he handle himself? Yeah, he was the only one of the guys that had a true problem – unless you counted Noah's drinking. And Benji knew that his friend had worked hard to curb his tendency to overindulge.

But even so, there was always an ample supply of something at rehearsals. From the very beginning of the band's existence, their practice sessions had always been sort of a BYOB event.

He shook his head once more as he thought about it. How long had it been since he’d played totally sober? Without any alcoholic or chemical interference at all?

Benji honestly couldn't remember.

Maybe back when he had first auditioned for Otis? He hadn't been under the influence of anything during that first meeting, had he?

He smirked to himself as he thought about it because, for the life of him, he could not remember the last time he'd played clean. He had started using recreationally long before Jagged Ivory, but he wasn't aware that it had been a problem from the beginning of the band's formation. Not until he’d talked about it in one of those therapy sessions back at Maynard.

But the more he reflected on it, the more it made a crazy kind of sense. Even back when Jagged Ivory was just a club band, their popularity had grown quickly, which meant they worked pretty steady back then.

The more they worked, the more money he had in his pocket to blow on drugs. His habit had blossomed along with the band's success, and heroin had always been his drug of choice.

The realization blew his mind a little bit. Would he even be able to play without the chemical assistance?

Maybe his musical talent wasn't even really his.

Maybe it had been the drug all along and he would actually suck without it.

Shit.

Benji closed his eyes took in a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.

I can do this. I can do this.

He repeated the phrase to himself a few times before opening his eyes once more.

He could do this.

He had to.

The guys were counting on him. His brothers. They were so important to him. He couldn't let them down again.

As the car slowly pulled into the parking lot of the rented rehearsal space in Culver City, Benji's heart rate picked up a little. Glancing around through the rear passenger seat window, he recognized all the cars.

He could see Noah's new Porsche sitting in a parking space next to Cory's beloved classic Corvette. Buzzy wasn't a flashy type of guy when it came to vehicles, and Benji couldn't help but smile when he noticed his friend's big, shiny black Ford pickup truck with his personalized DRUMZ license plate.

Otis' car was nowhere to be seen, so either their fearless leader wasn't here yet or he had caught a ride with one of the guys.

As he stared at their cars he thought briefly about his own lack of personal transportation.

Benji didn't own a car.

He also didn't happen to possess a driver's license, although he did know how to drive. He had tried once to take the test, but the written part was so confusing to him. Nothing made any sense, so he had just walked out.

And really, until he joined the band, he’d never seen a reason to have a license. Since he was a kid, he had always just walked wherever he needed to go. If the distance was far enough, he would bum a ride from someone. Or hitch. That's how he had gotten to L.A. in the first place.

When he joined the band and things started to happen for them, one of the guys would always pick him up whenever they had to be somewhere. Or Mike would arrange for a car to pick him up, like today.

As he thought about that, he noticed that their manager's Mercedes was in the parking lot too, and suddenly he had a massive rabble of butterflies in his stomach.

What was Mike doing here?

He knew that some of their backline techs would be in attendance at today's rehearsal since they only had a week before the tour resumed. But he really hoped to avoid a big welcome home type of party scene.

Surely they wouldn't have done that, right?

He took a deep breath and opened the door. Then he climbed out of the car, pulling his base case out behind him.

He stood for a moment glancing around the lot. He didn't notice any other familiar cars, so maybe his worries of a party were unfounded. God, he hoped so. Being on display was the last thing he needed right now.

With a final look around, he took another deep breath and started walking.

When he entered the large rehearsal space, Benji stood for a minute just glancing around and taking it all in.

They were all here.

His family.

They were all standing around talking, joking around with each other. Their excited, cheerful banter lifted his spirits immediately.

He had missed them all so much. He felt foolish, but he couldn't help the emotional swell he suddenly found himself in. Trying hard not to let it get the best of him, he sucked it up and stepped further into the room.

There he is, he heard Otis exclaim. And the excitement in his friend's voice was difficult to miss.

To Benji's surprise, the room broke out in cheers and whistles from the backline as his four bandmates rushed toward him.

They each embraced him, one by one, holding him tightly for a brief moment and patting his back as they expressed their joy at having him home. Their show of affection touched him, and Benji couldn't stop that swell of emotion any longer.

When Noah hugged him it got worse, and he suddenly found himself wiping a stray tear or two.

Thank you, Noah, he whispered, wiping at his eyes when his friend pulled away from him. I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for you, man. I owe you everything. Benji's voice was full of emotion, and they both knew he was referring to Noah saving his life after he overdosed at a party in England during the last leg of their tour.

You don't owe me a damn thing, Benji, Noah answered.

Yeah, I do. And we both know it, he insisted quietly. I swear, I won't let you down.

Noah gently patted his friend's face as he chuckled. Don't put that on me, man! You don't owe me anything. Just take care of yourself, all right?

Benji nodded. I will. I promise.

You look good, man, Noah told him, patting his shoulder.

Benji smiled shyly at him because he knew what Noah was getting at. He didn't have that strung-out, hollow-cheeked, emaciated look to him anymore, and he had actually put on a little weight since the last time they had seen him. He looked healthy for the first time in a couple of years.

Thanks. I feel good, Benji said with a quiet smile. I feel real good. And I'm ready and eager to get back to work.

Let's do it then, brother, Buzzy smiled, and his eyes sparkled with excitement as he looked at him.

All right, let's do it.

He moved over to where the instruments were all set up and prepared to take his bass out of its case and set up.

Can I do that for you, Benji? a voice said to his right, and he turned to see his bass tech smiling at him.

Hey, Joe! He shook the younger guy's hand as he handed over his case. Listen, man, I wanted to thank you for jumping in during the last half of those European dates. The guys all said you did a great job, and I want you to know I appreciate it.

Benji, it was such an honor, man, Joe said, smiling at him as he handed Benji's case off to his assistant. A fucking terrifying honor, to be sure! But an honor nonetheless.

Benji laughed out loud at his response. I'm sorry for putting you in that position, Joe. But you handled yourself like the pro that you are, and I'm proud of you, man.

Thanks, Boss, he smiled. Then the tech took a deep breath and sighed. Damn, I wish you weren't so nice, 'cause that makes this even harder.

What are you talking about? Benji asked with a frown.

Well, my little stint as Jagged Ivory's fill-in bassist gave me the confidence and the kick in the ass to step out on my own. I auditioned for the new band Keith Mack's putting together for his solo tour. I got the job!

No shit? Benji asked, clearly excited for him. Aw, man. That is great, Joe! Congratulations, man, he said, giving him a small hug.

Thank you.

I guess this means you'll be leaving me? Benji said, as Joe motioned for someone to join them.

Yep, it does. It has been such a pleasure to work for you, though. You are without a doubt the coolest boss I have ever had, Joe said.

Benji smiled at his comment.

That's why I wanted to be here today, to tell you myself. And to introduce you to your new tech. I mean, I know that you have every right to choose your own, but I also know that you have zero time to find somebody new right now. So… when you went to Maynard and I stepped in, Fae here stepped into my slot as bass tech.

Joe motioned to the young woman standing beside them, now holding Benji's bass.

He had seen her before. He recognized her as Joe's assistant and she had been with the Thank Heaven tour from the beginning. Benji had been skeptical at first when she was hired.

Not because he didn't believe a woman could be a good guitar technician, but because she just looked so