Going Down Bonus Chapter

The following bonus chapter was added to Going Down for your enjoyment in advance of the new Kingsbrier Legacy series release Love Me Fast.

—Gatlin—

“So did you like her?” Cadence bounces over to where I’m crouched on the pavement. She leans against the side of Dash’s tiny house, stuffing her credit card back into her wallet.

We’ve made our first stop about twenty miles south of the New England town where my brother lived this winter, working ski patrol at a small ski resort. Cadence gassed up the truck and stocked up on snacks in the convenience store. I’m on my knees—a place I’ve been a lot lately—checking the tire pressure and filling the tires for the almost two-thousand mile journey back to Texas.

In twenty-eight hours we’ll be home. It’ll be time for me to face the music, which makes procrastinating sound like a good idea.

“Who?” I ask, pocketing the tire gauge and replacing the screw on the valve stem.

“Who do you mean who? Your brother’s new girlfriend, Kat. Who did you think I meant, Gatlin? Oh.” My cousin has the decency to look sheepish.

Ya gotta love that about the girl. I mean, as an only child with three adults who doted on her, Cadence is the epitome of spoiled. She’s like the little kid, desperate to have every action figure promoted on a toy’s box, but with power tools of all things. She also prefers her soaking tub at a five-star hotel filled with champagne bubbles. But Cadence never wants anyone to feel bad or hurt their feelings. I’ve actually watched her build people up over the years just to have it blow back in her face.

So, in my gut, I know Cadence hasn’t intentionally brought up me getting fired from my job. If she wanted to embarrass me she could have done that on the plane or announced who I was to the rideshare driver on the way to meet Dash’s girlfriend, subjecting me to the intrusive questions every follower on my social media keeps asking. Or worse their opinions of me.

“Kat seemed… Swell.” I rise and follow my cousin to the front of the truck so we can get in.

Cadence turns her head, looking over her shoulder. “Swell? Okay, Grandpa.” She holds her fingers over her head creating a huge letter W.

I don’t respond to her goading as I get into the cab and buckle my seatbelt.

Her brow still raised, Cadence rounds the hood for the driver’s side.

“Fine. She’s nice. She’s pretty in the way that Dash finds attractive, and that’s not to say she’s unattractive.” I’d totally bone Kat if my big brother hadn’t placed dibs. “My point is simply that they appeared well-suited.”

Cadence gawks at me for a minute. “You really have your tail between your legs, don’t you?”

My palm scuffs up my stubbled cheeks and my fingers thread through my mop of blonde hair. “Was I not my charming self?” For Christ sake, I understood Kat was upset by the separation from my weird brother. Saying goodbye to Capote, the hairless wonder, made it worse. I tried to comfort her after we were done prepping Dash’s tiny house for the road without coming off as a flirt.

“Not until I made you say ‘hello’, you weren’t. By the way, you should plan on helping me refinish the scratches in the floors.”

The sun streams through the windshield and heat rises under my collar.

“Sorry. I guess I sort of got stuck in my head again and came off as an asshat. It wasn’t intentional.” It’s hard to shake off my troubles.

Whenever my mind gets a chance to wander, I replay the scenario. At this point, I’ve overanalyzed everything and I keep coming to the same conclusion. If I had to do it all over again I wouldn’t have taken the straight and narrow.… And that’s a bigger problem than anything else I face.

Like almost all of the kids with ties to Kingsbrier, my siblings and I pulled our fair share of fast ones. However, the chromosome that makes you smart enough to keep your fucking mouth shut, instead of showing off? That gene wasn’t passed on to me.

I’m a fucking loud mouth. The baby of the family, and the jokester of my generation. I ad-lib and find ways to make myself the center of attention. And that’s what makes, made, me a great DJ.

I’m responsible for me no longer being on the air and how fucked up my life is right now sucks.

Meanwhile, Dash has a contract with a ski resort down under. In his spare time, he’ll be jumping boxes for the next six months until he can get back to the states and start a new chapter of his vagabond life with Kat—the woman my hobo brother never expected to meet.

Not that I want what Dash has got. By no means am I ready to settle down. I just appreciate that my brother will do whatever it takes to hold onto Kat.

In the cupholder, the screen of my cell illuminates with an incoming message.

Uncle Cris: Jake’s got a lead

It takes me less than a second to snatch my phone up. Dots appear under my uncle’s previous text. Though I’m dizzy that his entertainment industry connections are quickly getting me out of a jam, I wait to reply until he’s done typing.

Uncle Cris: There’s a resort in Mexico interviewing for a DJ. From what I know about the employment contract, it’s set up so the money you make is tax-free.

There’s a perk. But ugh, both of us know that’s not really the job I’m looking for. I’m an on-air personality.

Me: Thanks

I’ll give it some thought and call Jake to get the details

Uncle Cris: Listen, kid—You’re in hot water and it needs time to cool off. If I were young like you, waiting it out on a beach would be my first choice, not my last.

Jake Ballentine’s digits appear underneath.

My thumbs are in actual pain replying. I have a ton of respect for Uncle Cris and his storied music career. I also hate that my uncle knows what he’s talking about. He wouldn’t steer me wrong. And I’m only balking at the advice that he’s giving me because he’s family; no different then when my dad tried to tell me the easy way to do things when I was a kid and what I did was try a million harder ways before giving into the fact that he might’ve been right all along. At least, I’m not that kind of a fool anymore… Except, my big mouth still got me hoodwinked and fired from a job I love.

Me: heard

Maybe Uncle Cris is right and lying on a beach at an all-inclusive resort is exactly what I need. It’ll be relaxing. Like a vacation. It’s a no-brainer to spin Top Forty hits and teach line dances to tipsy tourists. Some of the ladies will probably want private dance lessons under the stars. Now there’s a job perk. And yeah, in my off-time, I’ll think some more about what I did wrong that landed me in paradise purgatory.

I’ll call my uncle’s friend Jake at the next rest stop. When I get back from working my tan, I’m going to do what it takes to get my job back.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

—Cadence—

I’m glad for the company, except the crease in Gatlin’s forehead has grown to the size of the Grand Canyon during this trip. I know getting canned is never far from his thoughts. But in case the wrinkles wind up being permanent, it’s a good thing he doesn’t have to appear on camera. He’s too baby-faced to pull off a silver-fox vibe.

I feel bad for my cousin, though. I hoped the trek to New England, and meeting his brother’s girlfriend, would be a nice diversion from his problems. After all, there’s not much Gatlin won’t do for Dash—and vice versa—and right about now, the youngest Newhouse has ample time on his hands.

Time I wish I had.

Which sounds maudlin, but after hauling Dash’s tiny house back to Kingsbrier, I’m leaving on a family vacation that my mother requested me and Granny Monroe to join her and Daddy on.

You’re complaining about two back-to-back trips, neither of which you’re floating the expense of. Spoiled much, Cadence?

The problem is, lately it feels like I’m committing myself to others and not actually doing anything I want to do.

I am adult enough to recognize it is my fault.

When the Home Builders Network came calling, starry-eyed, I signed on as the host of its newest show, Knock-Out! The premise is taking single historic rooms down to the studs. I work alongside a crew that demolishes and refurbishes the interiors of entire buildings, showing people what tools to use, and modeling how to use them. It’s gotten me ratings and amassed an even bigger following than I had before Mama started posting my latest woodworking project on her social media accounts.

Granny Monroe is my assistant: A job my step-grandmother volunteered for, but I pay her well. For a long time, when Mama was still focused on her career, Monroe took care of me for free. Sure, lots of grandparents babysit the way my aunts and uncles do for their grandchildren. Though Granny gets marks for always exceeding expectations. For instance, escorting me to photoshoots when a make-up company Mama was an influencer for used me as the face for a lip gloss they marketed to teens.

Lately, Monroe’s been on top of contract negotiations for a spokesperson angle a big tool company wants me for. They already bought the exclusive rights for us to promote and use their tools on the set of Knock-Out! It’s a great company, so I’m all for it.

The fact that the company keeps sending me power tools to test out? Bonus!

However, I’ve zipped my mouth that I’m about to sign on the dotted line, seeing as Gatlin is currently between jobs.

“I’m getting hungry. How about we make a pit-stop there?” Gatlin points to a blue highway sign. The next turnoff is a rest area with gas and food.

Hearing his voice jogs me out of my inner monologue.

I’ve left my cousin to his thoughts the past few hours. Gatlin’s been on the quiet side since he texted our Uncle Cris.

“I could do with something to eat, and I’m all for stretching my legs.” I flick the directional, check my mirrors, and glance at the portable camera system attached to the trailer. It gives me a three-sixty view of traffic surrounding us.

My foot taps the brake and I steer us towards the offramp, making our way to the trailer truck and RV parking area.

“I gotta make a call. After that, I’ll stand in line for burgers,” Gatlin offers, getting out of the cab.

I give him my order and walk around to the hitch, double-checking that everything is still road safe.

“That is impressive!” A semi driver walking from the fast food restaurant with a paper bag in his grip calls out to me.

“Thanks!” I grin, eating up the compliment. How could I not? Dash’s tiny home is my baby.

“Love to know where I could get my hands on one of those.”

“Come on over and scan this QR code.” I wiggle my cell in the air. “It’ll show you all you need to know.”

He pulls his phone from his baggy back pocket, scanning and then tapping the link to my website, and scrolling through a gallery of images. “Hold on a god-sh darn minute! You’re the Knock-Out! girl.” He looks at me, surprised. “You do this, too?”

“In my spare time.”

“That’s amazing. I got daughters about your age and just wanted to let you know that meeting a woman with a CDL made my heart happy. Meeting you on top of it is even better. I watch your show all the time.”

“What, like navigating one of these bad boys through a major thoroughfare is hard?” I make the other driver chuckle.

Hauling a load this heavy is no joke. I still get butterflies in my stomach when I put a truck into gear and hit the accelerator. But it’s good angst; the thrilling kind that reminds me I can accomplish anything I set my sights on. All I need is faith in myself.

“Anyway, thanks. I appreciate it. And who knows about your daughters? Anything is possible.”

“You’re right it is.” He smiles as if he can’t wait to recount this story to them. “Thank you for the info and keep the shiny side up!” He waves over his shoulder, taking his meal back to his eighteen-wheeler.

Since I can see Gatlin pacing and talking on the phone, I decide to place a quick call myself.

“Cady, baby!” My boyfriend answers right before the voicemail should’ve picked up.

My nose wrinkles. I’m unsure of what’s worse, Stepan’s nickname for me, or my sensitivity to being called “baby” since he’s older than I am. The last thing anyone would accuse me of is having daddy issues. Although what attracted me to him was a level of maturity I hadn’t found in anyone my own age.

Let me backtrack. I thought Stepan was more mature than the guys I dated.

My boyfriend is Knock-Out!’s producer. We began our relationship right after filming the first episode. Stepan enjoys being on set. I’m sure spending long days in close proximity to one another built a lot of the attraction. Not that he’s hard on the eyes. Is anyone in L.A.?

I hear a muffled voice in the background.

“Is this a good time?” I bite my lip.

“It’s always a good time for you.” My boyfriend dismisses whoever is there. “When are you heading home?”

“We’re on our way to Texas as we speak.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Stephen—”

“Uh-uh-uh!” he interrupts.

“Stepan” I accentuate the last syllable, correcting my faux pas. He legally changed his name, telling me post-mortem. I have no desire to disrespect who Stepan is, but adapting takes some getting used to.

“It’s lonely here without you, Cady. Have you thought any more about what we discussed?”

Stepan is on a hot tack for us to move in together. My place in California is the first time I’ve lived alone. I’ve hardly gotten a chance to appreciate the independence.

“I told you I’d decide by the time the hiatus is over. I need to get the rig to Texas and then go on my family’s vacation.” A trip my parents were nice enough to invite him on, but Stepan declined, citing immense prep work for the upcoming season of the show. “When we’re back, my priority is the repairs for Dash and I have just enough time to squeeze in a modification for a new client who wants to customize their tiny home’s outdated kitchen.”

I’m excited about that, and can’t wait to reveal the before and after pictures on my feed.

“Think about your career, Cadence. You’ll make more from Monroe brokering the tool company endorsement deal than you ever will building those teeny-weenie houses.”

I know I will. But even on the show, the sense of accomplishment I have when construction is complete means more to me than money.

I hear more voices in the background.

“I have to go. Come home to me soon. I love you, Cady,” he says.

I cringe, but I say it back.