Shattered Hearts

  Shattered

  Hearts

  Coral McCallum

  Copyright © 2019 Coral McCallum

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 9781090529619

  ISBN- 10: 1090529619

  Also by Coral McCallum

  Silver Lake series

  Stronger Within

  Impossible Depths

  Bonded Souls

  Ellen

  The characters, names, places, brands, media and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or deceased, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the various products referenced within this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorised, associated with or sponsored by these trademark owners.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover Design by Coral McCallum

  Cover image – ID 83290587© Adam Wasilewski| Dreamstime.com

  Celtic Dragon Knot- created by Fiona Knox

  Welcome back to the world of all things Silver Lake.

  It’s been a while……

  Writing Book Baby 5 aka Shattered Hearts has, in many ways, been like re-uniting with old friends, who have become family. In the following pages, you’ll reconnect (I hope) with all of the members of the extended Silver Lake family and welcome in some new faces.

  I started this book on 8th May 2018, five years to the day after I started the very first book in the series, Stronger Within. (Yes, I chose the start date deliberately – I’m a bit weird that way.) The months between then and now have been challenging but Jake and Lori have kept me going.

  Like the rest of the series, Shattered Hearts is written in UK English. Yes, as before, it’s set in the USA but I was taught UK English and grammar in school. If my s’s instead of z’s offend then I humbly apologise. No offence intended.

  As ever, my “infamous five” have remained loyal and supportive throughout this labour of love. I cannot thank them enough. Without their unwavering faith in me, I don’t know if I could have finished this one. So, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you. There have been many difficult, dark moments during the birth of this book baby. One of the five has been a tower of strength to me, more so than they realise. Thank you isn’t enough.

  I’m indebted to my “cavalry”, my beta readers, for their love and support. It wouldn’t be a Silver Lake book without your seal of approval.

  Thanks to my family and friends for affording me the time to lose myself in this creative journey. It’s been a tough one!

  And, finally, a huge thank you to YOU for picking up Shattered Hearts. I hope you enjoy this, the penultimate chapter in the Silver Lake series.

  Happy reading (maybe keep some Kleenex close by).

  Much love and huge hugs to each and every one of you.

  Coral McCallum

  15 October 2019

  Golden rays of dawn shimmered in the ripples of the still ocean. They danced a slow waltz as the gentle waves glided towards the beach. Gradually the pale golds turned to orange then to red as the sun crept over the horizon. Apart from the soft sounds of the waves lapping against the shore, the world was silent. Not even the tiny seabirds, who usually danced with the ocean, were to be seen or heard.

  Running his hand through his long blonde hair, Jake sighed. It felt good to taste salt in the air. It felt good to feel sand under his feet. It felt good to be home. His fingers tangled in the strands of his hair, knotted after a sleepless night on the band’s delayed flight out of LAX. Looking down, he realised that his hair was almost to his waist. Another indication that he’d been away from home too long. Mentally, he made a note to take a trip into town later to get his mane trimmed.

  With his arms wrapped around his knees, Jake sat watching the sun make its way over the horizon, basking in its golden light. He was bone tired and couldn’t remember when he had last slept for more than a couple of hours at a time. The band’s flight had been scheduled to reach Philadelphia at ten o’clock the night before but a four-hour delay meant they hadn’t landed until almost two o’clock in the morning. There had been the usual carnage in the baggage hall but, by some miracle, all of their suitcases and guitar cases had made it safely across the country. Tired and grumpy, the sleep-deprived musicians had piled into the waiting SUVs for the hundred-mile drive down the Coastal Highway. After so long in each other’s company, each of them was keen to get back to JJL to collect their cars and trucks and say their “good nights”. With little more than a grunt of farewell, Jake had loaded his gear into the back of his truck. Praying that it would start at the first time of asking, he had hauled himself into the cab for the final leg of the journey home.

  He’d pulled into the driveway at the beach house just after five, reached to retrieve his house keys from his battered leather book bag and found them missing. Leaving his gear in the truck, he’d crept round to the back of the house to try the back door, hoping that Lori had left it unlocked. No luck. Both the screen door and the back door were locked. Knowing it was too early to waken his sleeping family, he’d headed across the sun deck to try the patio doors. They too were locked.

  Muttering to himself, he’d hauled off his ripped Converse hi-tops and socks, leaving them scattered on the deck and wandered down to the beach to watch the sunrise.

  As the sky lit up before him, Jake reflected on the last few months. When he’d left Rehoboth in January, the beach had been covered in eight inches of snow. Now, in the third week in June, it looked as though it was going to be a beautiful summer’s day. This was the longest period of time that he’d spent away from home and, for the past ten weeks of the tour, his heart had been yearning for the sights and sounds of the ocean and the beach house.

  Life over the past five years had become more and more demanding as Silver Lake had gone from strength to strength and Weigh Station had enjoyed a successful revival. Juggling musical commitments, recording sessions and tours for two of the planet’s biggest bands had been a logistical nightmare. He’d long since lost count of the number of shows he’d played, finding it harder and harder to remember where he was and who he was with. If it wasn’t for the journal he kept, Jake would have lost track of time and place entirely.

  On the flight home, he’d been sitting between Grey and Jethro, having lost the coin toss to see who would take the middle seat. As Grey had slept soundly at the window, Jake had confided in the band’s manager that he didn’t want to even think about music until at least the fall. Understanding completely, the older man had nodded his silent agreement, noting how raw and hoarse Silver Lake’s vocalist’s voice was sounding.

  Now, as he sat watching the horizon, Jake was wondering if he would be able to sing again by fall even if he wanted to. Ghosts of a past duet with Tori from Molton were tormenting him. The last three shows had really put a strain on him and, by the end of Flyin’ High in Los Angeles, his voice was gone. A sign to take a much-needed rest perhaps he thought.

  Lost in his thoughts, he sat enjoying the view and the tranquillity of the beach.

  The familiar screech of the patio door to the sun room opening startled him back to the present. He listened closely wondering who was about to approach him.

  “Daddy!”

  Before he could turn round, he felt sand spray over him as Melody threw her arms around his neck. As he hugged her close, she smothered his face with kisses.

  “I’ve missed you, Daddy,” she said as he pulled her into his lap.

  “Bet I’ve missed you more, Miss M.”

  “You sound funny,” commented the little gi
rl, screwing her face into a frown.

  “Too many shows. Too many songs,” said Jake quietly.

  “You need the icky medicine Mommy gave me when I had strep.”

  “Maybe. I think I’ll start with some warm water and honey first though,” he replied. “Now, are you going to make me breakfast?”

  Giggling, Melody shook her tousled blonde head.

  “Is your Mommy awake?”

  Again, Melody shook her head. “She was drawing last night.”

  “And I’ll bet she was drawing most of the night,” added Jake, knowing all too well how easily Lori lost track of time when she was working.

  “What about your brother?”

  “Snoring,” giggled Melody, delighted to have her daddy to herself for a bit.

  “Want to go for a walk?” suggested Jake. “You can tell me about all the things I’ve been missing out on since you guys came to the show in Baltimore.”

  Hand in hand, father and daughter walked along the deserted beach heading south towards the bath house. Not for the first time, it struck Jake how much his little daughter reminded him of Lori. She was growing into a confident young lady, comfortable around people but not precocious. One thing that Lori had insisted on was that their children would be brought up well-mannered and well-behaved. Despite the trappings of his rock star life and the success of both Mz Hyde and Hyde Properties, they wanted their children to be well-grounded and not spoiled showbiz brats.

  As Melody chattered away about her latest play date with Wren and Hayden, Paul and Maddy’s twins, Jake smiled at the innocent simplicity of her life. Bored with telling her daddy all about pre-school and her pre-school graduation, Melody asked him question after question about the band and the tour and the shows and life on the Silver Bullet, the band’s tour bus, and about the flight home.

  “Your Uncle Grey snores worse than your brother,” revealed Jake with a wink. “But don’t tell him I said so.”

  “I won’t. When will I see Uncle Jethro? Will he come to my birthday party?”

  “If he’s still in town, I guess he will,” he replied, scooping her up into his arms. “Time to head home. I need some breakfast.”

  “Cheerios!” shrieked Melody happily.

  “I was thinking coffee but Cheerios work too.”

  The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through from the kitchen as Jake and Melody entered the sunroom. A hint of bacon was also in the air and Jake smiled as he heard Lori laughing at something their young son had said. No matter how often he heard it, the musical tones of her laugh made him smile.

  “Mommy!” yelled Melody as she raced through the house. “Daddy’s home! I found him on the beach.”

  Still smiling, Jake followed his daughter through to the kitchen. Just as he’d pictured it in his head, Lori was standing pouring two mugs of coffee, her own long blonde hair caught back in a messy ponytail and her walking cane by her side.

  “Mornin’, li’l lady,” said Jake softly from the doorway. “One of them for me?”

  “Morning yourself,” she replied, smiling at him. “What time did you finally get in at?”

  “I didn’t get in,” he confessed, crossing the kitchen to lift the two mugs. “Couldn’t find my keys. I went and sat on the beach. Watched the sun come up then Miss M found me.”

  “You needing some hot water and honey?”

  “Later. Right now, I need a coffee and a hug from my wife.”

  As he wrapped his arms around her, Jake drank in everything about her. He noted that it was a different shampoo she had used as he nuzzled his face into her silky soft hair.

  “God I’ve missed you, Lori,” he whispered. “Missed all of you.”

  “We missed you too,” she confessed. “But, you’re home now. Home for the whole summer too, I hope.”

  “Home for the foreseeable,” promised Jake, kissing the top of her head. “No recording. No tours. No shows. Just family time.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Their moment was interrupted by a loud clatter as something landed on the floor and a shrill squeal of “My Daddy!” rattled around the room.

  “I think your son is trying to get your attention,” commented Lori with a smile before turning around to declare “Jesse, stop throwing your sippy cup on the floor!”

  “Hey, mister,” said Jake, reaching out to pick up their two-year-old son. “We don’t throw things. You know the rules.”

  Gazing at him, with hazel eyes the mirror of his own, Jesse said, “Sorry.”

  “Apologise to Mommy,” instructed Jake firmly. “Then pick up your cup.”

  “I sorry, Mommy.”

  Setting the little boy down, Jake pointed to the cup. Immediately, Jesse scampered to fetch it then said, “Need juice.”

  “Ask nicely, Jesse,” prompted Jake.

  “Juice please, Mommy.”

  “In a minute,” promised Lori calmly. “Sit back at the table and finish your cereal first.”

  “Cheerios stinky!”

  “Finish your breakfast, Jesse,” stated Lori. “Then you can get some more juice.”

  Taking his usual seat at the table, Jake smiled. Normal family mealtime chaos. It felt good. It also didn’t feel a million miles away from the squabbles on the tour bus about who finished the OJ or who used the last of the half ‘n’ half and put the empty carton back in the refrigerator. Sipping his coffee, he listened to Melody telling Lori about their walk along the beach.

  “Can you keep an eye on these guys till I take a shower?” asked Lori a few minutes later.

  “Sure,” said Jake, getting up to refill his coffee cup. “What’s the plan for today?”

  “No plans,” replied Lori. “Just a lazy family day…. well… I need to work for a few hours but I can do that later.”

  “Your deadline looming?”

  Lori nodded. “I need the drawings finished by Friday. Three days, four if you include Friday. I’m almost done.”

  “How about I take the kids into town this afternoon for a couple of hours? Would that help?”

  “Oh yes!” sighed Lori. “But don’t you need to grab some sleep?”

  “Later,” muttered Jake. “Go jump in the shower then I’ll bring my gear in. It’s all still in the truck. Need to find my house keys too.”

  “They’ll turn up,” laughed Lori, knowing that her husband “lost” his keys on a regular basis and they’d never been truly lost yet.

  Allowing the jet of hot water to rain down on her back, Lori sighed. She was relieved to have her rock star home. One look into his eyes was all it had taken to tell her how road-weary he was. Since they had spent the weekend together in Baltimore six weeks previously, she had been fretting about him. The tour had taken its toll, especially as it had followed on so swiftly from the Weigh Station run. It hadn’t surprised her either to hear his voice so rough and husky. Maddy, the band’s tour manager, had confided in her a week before that Jake was starting to struggle. The two friends had agreed that he needed a break, a long break. As she turned off the water, Lori hoped that he would be sensible for once and actually enjoy his downtime.

  When she limped through to the sunroom a short while later, she found the two junior members of the household watching Sponge Bob and Jake sprawled out on the couch sound asleep.

  “Kids,” she said softly. “Time to get showered and dressed. No arguments. Let Daddy sleep for a while. He’s tired.”

  Without complaint, the two youngsters followed her out of the room.

  A buzzing from his jeans pocket roused Jake several hours later. Rubbing sleep from his eyes with one hand and reaching for the cell phone with the other, he caught the call just as it was about to go to voicemail. It was Grey, Silver Lake’s bass player.

  “Hey,” said Jake sleepily. “What’s up?”

  “Afternoon. Did I wake you?”

  “Yeah,” mumbled Jake, gazing round the sunroom momentarily disorientated about where he was. “What time is it?”

  “One thir
ty,” replied Grey. “I’ll not keep you long. Just wanted you to know I’ve lifted two of your guitars last night along with mine. Your cherry SG and your Taylor.”

  “Hadn’t noticed. My gear’s still out in the truck,” confessed Jake, struggling to sit up. “Lost my keys so was locked out when I got back here.”

  “Again?” laughed Grey.

  “Again,” echoed Jake wearily. “I’m taking the kids into town later. Will you be home? I could run by and pick those ladies up.”

  “We’ll be home till six then Kola and I are heading out to dinner. Mom’s going to watch the kids for a few hours.”

  “We’ll be there well before six,” promised Jake.

  Hearing her daddy’s voice, Melody came running into the sunroom. Jumping up and down, she begged him to play with her.

  “Later,” said Jake, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. “I need to empty the truck then grab a shower. We’re going out after lunch. You, me and Jesse.”

  “Where to?”

  “Into Rehoboth. I need a haircut,” stated Jake. “And your brother looks like he could do with one too.”

  “Good luck with that plan,” called Lori from the kitchen. “That kid hates getting a haircut!”

  “Right, Miss M, time to work,” declared Jake, getting to his feet. “You can help me unload the truck.”

  “Me help too,” protested Jesse as he ran through to join them.

  “Come on then,” said Jake, taking his son’s hand. “Think you can carry my guitar case yet?”

  “No!” giggled his son. “I’m only two! Almost three!”

  Shaking his head and smiling, Jake headed through the house with kids hot on his heels. The back of the truck was packed tight. Carefully, Jake lifted out a small rucksack and handed it down to Jesse.

  “Put it in the lounge room,” he instructed, smiling as the bag dwarfed the little boy.