Wicked Thunder: String of Luck

By Hadley Quinn

Welcome to String of Luck, the hottest acoustic bar in the Northwest. Here, musicians battle to get an hour of time to impress Noble Greenwood, the owner and esteemed daughter of the world's most iconic rock 'n' roll legend. Her motto: If you can't perfect acoustic, then you don't belong in the industry. Noble is extremely connected and could make a musician's career. The extra catch? She has a list of standards many cannot live up to. Talent is talent, but only luck can grant you the opportunity to advance in THIS establishment.

Cabot Moreland has had rhythm and beats in his blood since infancy. Unexpected circumstances prevented him from continuing a career in music, but years later, the option has been presented to him all over again. Can he risk the little bit of stability he's provided for himself on a tiny shot in the dark? Follow his story in WICKED THUNDER.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hadley Quinn
• Release date: Aug 29, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201257149

Hadley Quinn

Hadley Quinn is the author of New Adult and Contemporary romance laced with plenty of humor and suspense. She has been writing novels for over ten years, publishing for the first time in 2012. Titles such as "Kiss This" of the bestselling McCallan series have gained momentum in the indie community and become the catalyst for her travels to book signings all over the country. Known for her memorable characters and clever story lines, Hadley keeps the reader engaged with plot twists and wit that will draw you into her fictional world

Book preview

Prologue

I’m sorry, Cabot, but it was confirmed. He’s your son.

I blinked but continued to stare at the wall. I felt heavy pressure against my chest, something I couldn’t understand. Was I breathing? My fingers started tingling, so I squeezed my hands into fists. It hurt, but maybe it’d been from drumming for the past ninety minutes.

Okay? Cab? Are you listening to me?

I finally took a breath and focused my attention on Blake. He was the band’s manager and had secured us a stellar recording contract the week before. He was normally a talkative, high-energy guy, but he currently held a different air to him. He wasn’t beaming, rubbing his hands together at the idea of success. He was sporting wrinkles and a frown, sighing and pausing like he didn’t know how to proceed.

Yeah, I get it, Blake. You need to replace me. We were supposed to sign our new contract in L.A. in the next few days, but I could feel my piece of the deal drift away into the cold Colorado night.

He groaned. Try listening to me, Cab. What I said was, take care of this problem quick. Okay? You got four days.

I focused on his steely eyes while I processed the words. Take care of the problem? I repeated. Yeah, I’ll go there, figure it out. I’ll, uh, I’ll talk to her family and do the legal stuff that needs to be done. But I think I’m gonna need more time than that. I just found out I have a kid, and I need to figure out how I’ll take care of him with all this new stuff going on—

"Cabot, you’re not fuckin’ listening to me. There is no contract and the kid. It’s one or the other. Do what you gotta do to sign the kid over to whoever—whatever—and do it quick. The longer it takes, the longer you’re making your bandmates wait on their future. Get it done."

I felt emotion sear through my spine. You think I’m just going to walk away from my own child? I asked, finally understanding what he’d been pressing for.

You think you’re gonna throw away your future for some shit-ass kid who wouldn’t know any different? he spat back. He’s not even a goddamn year old, man! He doesn’t even know you!

The reality of that slapped me in the face. I was disgusted by Blake’s lack of sensitivity, but I was even more appalled with myself. How did I not know? Why did Megan keep it from me? Did she know while she was pregnant, or later find out I was the father? Was it just before she died? Did they find out after?

How did it even come to this?

I started to walk toward the bus. Blake was yelling at me again, using expletives right and left. The only time he dropped the f-word so much was when he was either pissed or nervous.

And I knew he was both.

My entire future was dangling from the edge of a cliff two days ago when I found out my ex had died in a car accident, and that her son could possibly be mine. And now, I could feel myself freefalling with the truth. The reality.

I stopped, took a deep breath, then turned around to face Blake. I was shaking, not from anger but from nausea. The fact that you think I’d walk away from my own family just shows how little you know me. Maybe this is for the best.

You’re throwing away your future. Way to fuck over your friends—

They’ll be fine! I cut in angrily. Clive will work just fine with your plans, just give him a chance.

Blake’s jaw clenched, but I knew he was thinking it over. Anything to protect his meal ticket, and it had taken me this long to see that. However, I knew if I walked away now it was probably walking away for good. I just didn’t know, and I was livid that my manager was an insensitive prick.

He seemed to realize the same thing when he took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Look, Cabot, I’m sorry we’re yelling. I didn’t mean for this. I just didn’t realize there was any other option with you. I didn’t think this was going to change anything. You don’t know the situation over there. Maybe it’s not what you want, so I’m asking you to face it with an open mind, okay? Go back home and just give me a call in a day or two.

I considered his words. It seemed fair. And maybe he was right. Maybe I was deciding upon instinct and stepping up for this kid wasn’t even a possibility. I had no idea what Megan’s situation had been, or how involved her family was.

You’re right, I agreed. Give me a few days and I’ll get back to you.

He visibly relaxed a bit. Okay. Good. Go ahead and grab some stuff from the bus and we’ll get you to the airport. All right?

I decided to be grateful for the help. By the time we reached Denver International, I’d spent way too much time in my own head. Blake had allowed me the time to myself, although he had made a few suggestions that pertained to business. I knew he was just doing his job, but I was irritated. Maybe not with him, but my life in general. I’d finally earned my ticket to L.A., and my entire future had become crystal clear.

Now, I had no idea where the hell I was headed or what would become of my position in the band. And I had yet to face the most debilitating news yet:

I had a son.  

1

In the matter of Moreland versus Leland, the ruling goes to Mr. Cabot Moreland. Mr. Moreland, you may obtain custody of your son...

The courtroom became alive with murmuring. And crying. Megan’s mom was crying. I felt my heart sink into my stomach. I never wanted it to be this way but they’d given me no choice.

I cautiously made my way to the Lelands. I didn’t know what to say or how I would say it, but I needed them to be part of Dylan’s life.

Mr. and Mrs. Leland, I- I just want you to know—

You son of a bitch! Janet Leland shouted. She was our baby! Our only child! And Dylan is our baby too! Why would you take him away from us!

Stunned, I failed to reply. Joey was guiding me away, and Tom Leland had redirected his wife down a different aisle. I didn’t even remember walking out of the courtroom, but somehow, I ended up facing a social worker who was holding my nine-month-old baby.

My son. And as I reached my arms out for him, I could hear Janet crying hysterically down the hall.

The sound of metal clanking against metal shook me from my memories. I seemed to lull myself into random instances in my life now and then. I guess most people do that but I wasn’t sure why I’d been thinking about that day six years ago.

It made me sigh.

Hang in there, Cab. You can do this.

I didn’t want to share my real thoughts, so I didn’t.

You sure you can’t stay? I asked for the second time. Joey was already packing up his truck, so I knew the answer. Just one more hour?

I really can’t, man. He tossed his shovel in the back. I’m sorry. I promised Jen I’d be home on time tonight.

I knew that. I was just being selfish. And desperate. Yeah, no problem. Give her my best, okay? And thank her for letting me borrow you.

Of course, Cab, I will. You’re family to us. You know that.

I watched while he threw me a wave before climbing behind the wheel. After his headlights clicked on, his truck disappeared down the street.

It was dusk. Not much I could really get done anyway, but I returned to the backyard. Only twelve post holes had been dug, the posts set loosely inside—almost a dozen left to go, plus the gate at the side. Fencing my yard hadn’t exactly been in the budget, but I had no choice.

We were getting a dog.

After propping a flashlight on my toolbox so it could cast a bit of light, I went back to work. I didn’t stop until I’d dug a hole for every single post. Cementing them in and putting up the boards was going to be a chore on its own, but I was happy with the progress.

I worked on that fence every day that week, after work, for as late as I felt was acceptable to my neighbors. When I had a day off on Saturday, Joey stopped by to help me with the last bit of it.

And then it was done. I was sore as hell, but it was finally done.

Joe whistled his approval. Pretty nice. I’m glad you went with cedar and not chain.

I smiled. And then I grinned like a fool, proud as hell. It did look pretty nice.

You ready for this? he teased.

Slowly nodding, I replied, Absolutely.

Sure you’ll stop at just one? You can’t bring ‘em all home, you know.

I knew that. Boy, did I know. It was hard, but for this dog, I couldn’t say no. Just Mazy. That’s all.

He cast me a look of doubt, but he was right. I had a soft spot for dogs and made myself promise I’d only stop at one. Not having a fenced yard had been my saving grace so far, but now I no longer had that excuse.

When’s Kayla bringing Dylan home?

I began picking up my tools, and Joey followed suit. Tomorrow night. Gives me some time to get things just right.

Joe nodded. I’m excited for you guys. We love Clancy, but man, that dog is a pain in the ass sometimes. Still, dogs are great. Well, you know that.

I did know that. My love of dogs had only grown since childhood. I’d never been allowed to have one growing up, which only made me want one more. And after my music career abruptly ended, I decided to pick up where I’d left off and was grateful to get my old job back working with service dogs. It took some time to adjust from being around my bandmates daily and the life of a musician, but I’d carved out a new one for myself.

Dylan came first, and as an almost seven-year-old, I felt he was ready for his first dog.

And as a thirty-year-old, I was getting my first dog too.

My phone vibrated with a text. Call me. The number was unfamiliar and it didn’t have a name with it from my contacts, so I ignored it.

When Joey left, I showered and got ready for bed. My body felt wrecked and I wanted to lie down, but after passing Dylan’s bedroom, I decided to enter. I missed him. He’d been with my sister and her family for the week of spring vacation, and although I worried about him, I knew Kayla would watch him like a hawk. She was the only person I trusted one-hundred-percent, and also the only person Dylan could handle being with for so long without me.

I picked up a few of his things, pausing when I held one of his stuffed animals against my chest. He loved Gray the elephant but had taken Freddy the frog with him instead. Kayla said he kept asking for Gray, and she had to reassure him that I was taking care of him and needed the company.

On that thought, I walked to my room with Gray in my hand. I set him on my bed against a pillow and he stayed there through the night. I even woke up with him in my face, and it made me smile first thing in the morning.

Until I saw the clock and realized it was after ten.

I hopped out of bed, threw on some clothes, and jumped in my truck for work. I wasn’t actually scheduled to work that day, but I was picking up my dog and her things.

Mazy was finally headed to her forever home.

Wow, I was beginning to worry, Chantal said when I walked through the front door. You’re late to your own adoption day?

My phone vibrated with a text. Please call me. The same number as before, and I still didn’t recognize it.

It’s been a long week, I replied, shoving my phone back into my pocket. But yeah, not cool of me.

I made my way directly to the kennels, passing the training gym on the way. There was a fairly young German Shepherd being worked on the agility course, and if I remembered correctly, his name was King and he was about to head to the police academy if he aced his preliminary screenings.

Not able to pass up the opportunity, I watched Janie work with him for a few minutes. I could tell he was going to be a big dog, but damn, he was extremely fast.

I pictured him tackling a suspect—

Cabot, you’re here! Kelsey performed an excited little clap while she grinned. I told Mazy you were on your way. I didn’t think you’d forget.

Nope, never. Just, eh, delayed. So? How’s my girl?

She’s great. She’s been out in the yard and then did some course training with Lacey.

And how’d she do?

Kelsey cringed, so I knew the answer. Mazy was a Golden Lab, but also a flunky guide dog. After several months of top training, she’d officially flunked out of guide dog school. She was just too friendly, therefore, couldn’t pass the course. The second she’d gone up for adoption, my name was first on her list. I’d been one of her trainers, and I’d been so sure I could turn her into the best guide dog to come out of our school. Maybe I felt like I still had something to prove and could continue to work with Mazy, but deep down I just wanted her to have a loving home.

And I knew she’d get that with us.

No matter. I shrugged. The little lady doesn’t need a certificate to prove anything.

I made my way to the kennels. Every dog there owned a little piece of my heart. I wasn’t necessarily their head trainer, but I’d watched their progress and rooted for my colleagues. When a dog certified, or when someone with a need was matched with a companion, we all celebrated.

Hey there, Miss Mazy, I greeted when a familiar pair of eyes watched me approach her kennel.

Her tail whipped back and forth when I reached for the gate. I asked her to sit and wait, and she did, and when I gave the okay, told her to walk with me when I clipped a leash to her harness.

Let’s go play in the gym for a bit and then we’ll load your stuff in the truck. And then, I added dramatically, we go home and wait for Dylan.

She knew exactly who I was talking about. When we stepped into the gym and I unclipped her leash, I gave her the signal to bring me a ball. She went straight for the ball basket just as I noticed Kelsey enter the gym with a Poodle mix. Mazy glanced at them, picked up a ball, and headed my way.

Keep coming, keep coming, keep coming, I chanted to myself.

Mazy glanced at them one more time on her way back to me, and just when I thought she’d succeeded, her tail started to wag and she took a detour to say hi to them.

I sighed to myself. I’d even continued to give her the signal to bring me the ball but the temptation was too much. It’s not like she’d be off a leash as a guide dog anyway, but even on a leash, Mazy was easily distracted by other things.

She was at least going to make an amazing family pet, and potentially a certified therapy dog, so maybe luck had been in my favor instead.

After I gave Mazy a few minutes to play, I clipped her leash on again. It was time to say goodbye to everyone, and even though I knew I’d be bringing her in once in a while, it was still a teary send-off for some of my co-workers. Mazy had been in our facility for six months, ever since she was nine months old, so several of the trainers were quite attached to her.

When Chantal knelt to say the final goodbye, she hugged Mazy tight. Come back soon, sweet girl.

I almost felt bad that Chantal had wanted to adopt her too, but ultimately, my application had precedence over our receptionist’s.

I loaded Mazy into the back seat of my truck. Nearly every employee was standing outside to wave us goodbye. It felt monumental, as it should, and I glanced at my new family member in the rearview mirror.

Well, Mazy, you ready to go home?

She grinned at me, wagging her tail. It was almost like she knew her life was changing. She’d been to my house before—for practice with traveling and just acclimating to different spaces—but I knew she could feel this was different.

When I pulled into my driveway, I told her to wait. I walked around the truck to kill time—pretended to fiddle with a rose bush, the hose, the mailbox—just to give her the opportunity to obey. Then I opened her door, turned my back to her, messed with my phone for a few seconds, and gave her the okay to come with me.

She hopped off the seat, tail whipping, watching me. Walk with me, I instructed. She did, and we ended up at the side of the house. I stood proudly in front of the brand-new gate I’d installed. I opened it and said, Mazy, go play.

She entered the back yard, sniffing along the house, the fence, the large water dish by the water spigot. I’d left a few toys on the back patio, so I grabbed a ball.

We spent twenty minutes outside, mostly letting her explore instead of giving her commands. Once inside, I introduced her to her bed, food and water dishes, and toy box. I honestly didn’t think I could go wrong with Mazy. She was just a happy dog all around.

And I couldn’t wait for Dylan to see her.

2

I really don’t think he likes that, I told Janet, trying not to make things too awkward from the start.

I’d informed the Lelands I still wanted them to be part of Dylan’s life, and after two months of them bucking at every option I offered, they finally agreed to see him for the first time since the courts had placed him with me.

Of course, he does, Janet argued. He’s a baby, and babies like to be bounced.

Dylan’s face expressed otherwise. I’d noticed that look more often in the past month, and I was beginning to worry.

No, really, I said. He looks scared, Janet. She kept bouncing him on her thigh, and when I noticed my son’s fists clenched together, I snatched him from her lap.

She gasped. What are you doing?

He doesn’t like being bounced like that.

She stood to face me. If he didn’t like it, he’d be crying. You’ve been a father for eight weeks, Cabot, and I was a mother for twenty-three years. I think I know how to handle my grandbaby.

She was right, I was still green when it came to having a kid, but the bottom line was that I had a heart and intuition, and I didn’t like the look in my son’s eyes.

We need to get going, I mumbled, grabbing Dylan’s diaper bag. Thanks for watching him.

He’s our grandson, Tom Leland growled at me.

I refrained from any sort of comment and just left with my kid. There was no sense in arguing with Tom and Janet;