Chapter 14
Trystan
T aking a step back, I sucked in a deep breath as my gaze swept over the crowd taking it all in. Twenty-eight bands were playing over three days. Not everyone was here to see us perform, but that pretty brunette in the front row singing every word was only here to see me.
I flashed her a smile before the final chord died in my throat. The crowd's energy surged against the stage like a wave, and I rode it backstage, guitar still humming against my chest. Eight weeks on tour started tomorrow—but tonight belonged to her. I wanted to leave her with memories that would burn under her skin until I got home, wanted to map every inch of her body until she couldn't think straight.
The guys were already passing around water bottles backstage, riding the post-show adrenaline high, that would last most of the night. I wiped sweat from my brow, trading grins with them as my pulse gradually slowed. A familiar laugh cut through the backstage chaos, sharp as a knife, and everything in me went still.
It was Syn.
I rolled my eyes. It didn't surprise me that she was backstage. That was actually exactly where I expected her to be. Even though Jax and I had been extremely protective over her, we'd backed off a little since she'd turned eighteen. Giving her some freedom to make adult choices. If it had been a year ago, I would have given her my shirt to put over the tight little leopard print dress she had on that didn't leave a whole lot to the imagination. Her long black hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail, and her bright red lips split into a grin. My gaze shifted to see who made her smile, and I froze.
A tatted hand settled on her waist. Sebastian's fingers splayed possessively across her hip, and something dark uncoiled in my chest. The crowd's roar faded to white noise.
I crossed the distance in four steps, shouldering past drunk festival-goers. My fingers locked around Syn's arm, and I pulled her away before my self-control shattered completely.
She stumbled against me. "What the?—"
I waited until we cleared the crowd, grip still iron-tight on her arm. The pulse in my temples matched the distant thrum of bass. "What. The fuck. Are you doing?"
"I'm hanging out with the band." She ripped her arm from my grip before she straightened her dress with quick, angry movements, chin tilted up in defiance. "Don't go all big brother on me right now."
"Are you fucking around with Sebastian?" Sebastian King was one of the three King brothers in the band Royal Nights, and he had a bad reputation; actually, they all did.
"Trystan," Syn growled. "That's none of your business. I'm a big girl, and I can take care of myself."
"He has a reputation for treating women like shit, Syn."
"We are all just hanging out." Syn frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. "And like I said, I can take care of myself."
My jaw flexed as my gaze flicked back to the group. I knew Syn would stand her own ground, but she was 5'3" and didn't stand a chance against a 6' tall man.
"The guy's a dick." My fingers drummed against my thigh.
"Trystan." Syn pressed her lips together, gesturing toward a cluster of girls near the stage. "I'm just hanging out with my friends."
Every part of my being wanted to drag her back to the campgrounds with me, but I knew in the end, if she wanted to see him, she would.
"If he touches you, I'll kill him."
She rolled her eyes before she turned and mingled back into her group of friends.
Saylor materialized at my shoulder, still shirtless from the show, skin gleaming with sweat. "We'll keep an eye on her."
"Yeah." Creed pushed his drumsticks into his back pocket, flanking my other side. "If he even looks at her stupid, he'll have all of us to deal with, and he knows it."
Lennon spun his guitar pick between his fingers, the black skull design catching stage lights. "And we'll let you know if she throat punches him."
"Don't let it ruin your night with Cam," Saylor said. "We got Syn."
My gaze shifted back at Syn and I nodded. I knew they'd watch out for her.
Creed clapped my shoulder, festival lights casting shadows across his grin. "Go get your girl, man."
I took a few steps backward. "I'll see you assholes in the morning at the airport." Over the sea of bodies, I caught Syn laughing with her friends, Sebastian nowhere in sight. Maybe it really was nothing.
It took me about ten minutes to make my way through the crowd and find Cam.
Our boots crunched over gravel as we slowly strolled back to camp. Cam's fingers brushed mine. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Bass from a new band on the stage vibrated through my chest, but all I could think about were those rumors about Sebastian and his ex. The ones that made my stomach turn.
I would die before I let him hurt Syn.
Cam fell into step beside me. "It's something." She caught my restless hand in hers. "You just put on the show of a lifetime, and tomorrow you're leaving to go on tour, and you're so quiet." Her thumb traced the calluses on my palm. "Did something happen?"
"Have you seen Syn today?" I scanned the dimming festival grounds over her shoulder.
Cam tugged at her festival wristband. "No, but that's not unusual. She and Harlow tend to stick together. Why?"
"I saw her hanging out with Sebastian."
Her lips curved into a knowing smile. "I know she's your baby sister, but she's an adult now. You have to let her date."
"The guy's bad news." I frowned. "He has a reputation for hitting women."
"Oh." Cam's eyes widened. "Does Syn know?"
I shrugged. "I don't know, but she's not going to hear it from me."
Cam stopped walking as she pushed hair from her face. "Harlow." Her eyes lit up with the solution. "If you want her to hear it, let Harlow tell her."
I scuffed my boot through the trampled grass, considering.
She bumped my hip with hers, a half-smile playing on her lips. "Those two are the most unlikely pair."
"Yeah." I watched a group of fans walk past, still wearing our band shirts from tonight's show. "Who would have thought they would be as close as they are?"
"Syn is the spawn of Satan," Cam teased, "and Harlow is like a sweet little angel."
"Syn is a troublemaker." I kicked an empty beer can out of our path, remembering the time she'd snuck backstage at sixteen. "And Harlow never gets in trouble."
"Syn is probably the devil on Harlow's shoulder talking her into making bad decisions."
"And Harlow is the angel on Syn's shoulder talking her into making good ones."
Our shoulders bumped as we navigated between tents, sharing quiet laughter that felt like a secret in the festival chaos. We both laughed.
Strolling up to the camp, a wave of relief washed over me when Syn was sitting in a chair next to Harlow.
Cam reached into the cooler pulling out a bottle of water. "Where's Jax and Kaia?"
Syn's phone screen illuminated her face in the growing darkness. "They are on their way back." She tossed her phone onto the cooler and reached for the bottle of Jack. "Can't leave for tour without doing celebration shots first."
I smiled. It was times like this when I loved being part of a big family.
Stepping behind Cam, I curled my hands around her waist. My lips brushed her ear, and I felt her shiver. "Grab your toothbrush. We're leaving after shots."
"What?" She spun in my arms, nearly knocking over an empty beer bottle. Her fingers curled into my still-damp shirt. "Where are we going?"
I traced the line of her collarbone, watching goosebumps rise on her skin. "It's a surprise."
"I only need a toothbrush?" She tilted her head back to study my face, moonlight catching in her eyes.
"Yep." My fingers skimmed down her sides, settling at her hips. "Clothes are restricted."
Her breath caught, and she pressed closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "O...kay..."