Chapter Six
Kenna
"Kenna, you've got ten minutes," Clive Rucker says, popping his head into the dressing room to let me know it's almost time for me to go on. He's Kane's age, only in his late thirties, but with his kind eyes and full beard, he seems older.
"Thanks."
"And your sister-in-law is here."
"You can send her back."
"She's already on her way." His head disappears around the doorjamb. Two seconds later, Maya pops into the room.
"Oh, you look beautiful!" she cries, rushing forward to hug me.
I squeeze her tight, grateful she and Kane are here. I always feel better when they're in the audience. I'm nervous tonight. The place is loud and crowded, and Gideon's here. He's never seen me perform before. What will he think?
"You look beautiful too," I tell Maya. It's nothing but the truth. My sister-in-law is gorgeous. Ever since she found out that she's pregnant, she's been glowing. I've never seen her or my brother so happy before. I love that for them.
In a way, I'm envious. Our dad's death didn't affect Kane like it did me. It didn't stop him in his tracks or make him gun-shy. He threw his whole soul into loving Maya and did it without a single reservation or fear. In his eyes, losing her simply isn't an option so it isn't a consideration. I wish I had his confidence.
Because the longer I spend with Gideon, the more I ache for what they have. But aching and reaching are two totally different things. Am I brave enough to reach when I could end up shattered on the floor? If anyone has the power to break me, I think it might be my bodyguard. And that's a terrifying thought when I've only known him for such a short time.
It feels longer. It feels like a lifetime.
"John is here, so I won't stay long," Maya says, pulling back. "Kane and your bodyguard are both grumbling about him. I figure I should probably run interference out there for you."
"Great." I drop my head, groaning. "I swear, I'm going to strangle both of them if he quits because they're crazy people."
"I don't think he's going to quit, Kenna. He likes you too much."
"Not you, too," I say, peeking up at her.
She shrugs, smiling at me. "As far as you're concerned, he's just your manager. That takes seeing him in any other light completely off the table. You expect it to be the same for him, so you don't see what we see. But that man watches you like he's obsessed."
That pulls me up short, sending unease drifting through me. "He watches me?"
Maya nods. "All the time."
It's easy to discount what my brother and Gideon have to say about John because Kane is overprotective, and Gideon wants to sleep with me. They'd say the same thing about any man in his position. Kane has said the same thing about every man in John's position. But Maya is a different story. She hasn't been overprotective my entire life. We only met a few months ago. She has no reason to see things that simply aren't there. If she's seeing it too, maybe I'm the one who's missing it.
I'm not sure how I feel about that, but I think I have to accept that maybe my judgment of John isn't the best here. I want to see the best in him because I feel like I owe him loyalty and the benefit of the doubt. He's done a lot for me. But maybe Kane and Gideon are right about him. Maybe he does have an ulterior motive here that has nothing to do with helping me launch my career. I'm not sure what it means that he watches me, but my mind can't help but drift to the poem and the more insidious context of the phrase.
No. John wouldn't do this. He's been nothing but supportive since I hired him. He got me the record deal. He's booked every show. He's been my biggest ally. He stands to gain nothing from destroying me and my career. Absolutely nothing.
Maybe he does have a thing for me. That doesn't make him guilty, and it doesn't make him a monster. I won't condemn him based on unrequited feelings that he's never once mentioned or acted on. He's never crossed a line, been inappropriate, or even hinted that he's attracted to me.
Gideon pokes his head into the room, his gaze landing on me and Maya.
"I'm going to get back out there before my husband tries to fire your manager," Maya murmurs, hugging me again. "Break a leg tonight. Love you."
"Love you too. Thank you."
She blows me a kiss, grins at Gideon, and then slips out of the room.
"You okay, Sparrow?" Gideon asks, leaning up against the wall across from me. "You look anxious."
"I'm fine. Just nervous." I turn back to the mirror to check my makeup. My eyes are dark and smoky, and my ruby-red lips are stained to perfection. It gets hot on stage, so I've got half of my hair pinned up off my neck. The other half is curled My outfit is a pair of short shorts with rhinestones all over them, a black t-shirt, a biker jacket, and a pair of cowboy boots. I think I look good. I do look anxious, though.
"You're going to kill it, Sparrow. They're all excited out there."
"I'm not nervous about them."
He meets my gaze in the mirror, holding it. "I already think you sing like a fucking angel. You have nothing to prove to me. All I want for you is for you to get up there and have fun tonight."
My heart flutters, little pieces of it falling into his hands. Does he have any idea how hard he makes it not to fall for him? If I had a perfect guy, it'd be him. Hands down, it'd be him.
He pushes away from the wall, striding across the small dressing room toward me. I don't turn to meet him. I wait for him to step up behind me and lean back against him. His hand slides down the side of my face, curling around my throat as he tips my head back.
Our eyes meet in reality this time instead of in the mirror. His burn with that intensity that's so much a part of him. "I'm going to be jealous as hell the whole time you're up there," he says.
"Why?"
"Because every fucking man in the room is going to be looking at you, wanting what belongs to me," he growls. "And I'm not allowed to touch you."
"They don't want me, Gideon."
"No? Kane showed me the comments they leave on your social media, Kenna. It's fucked up."
"They don't want me," I whisper. "They don't even know me. They want the fantasy they've built and the dream they've sold themselves. That's all. And when they see me on stage, that's what they see, Gideon. Some fantasy version that doesn't exist in reality. That's what performers do. We sell a fantasy that doesn't exist."
"Is that what you're worried I'll see?"
"No." I lick my lips, shaking my head. "I know you'll see through it. You've seen through me since the second you set eyes on me. That's what makes me so freaking nervous. You see me." Selling the fantasy is easy. I've been doing it for years. But singing the words I've written, knowing he's going to see past my defenses and hear the vulnerability and rawness behind them? That's a whole new level of real.
He leans down over me, brushing his lips against mine. "You don't have to hide a goddamn thing from me, Sparrow. I'm not going anywhere. Give me real and raw. Give me you. You'll get the same damn thing from me, baby."
Somehow, despite my nerves, anxiety, and the intensity of the moment, he finds a way to make me smile. "Do you come any other way, Gideon?"
He grins against my lips. "Nope. What you see is what you get."
"Poor me," I sass.
"You said lucky wrong, Kenna."
"No, I'm pretty sure I said it right, Marine."
He growls, nipping my bottom lip. "Get your ass out on that stage and sing the roof down before I see if you can scream it down."
"You did not just say that."
"Said it. Mean it. Would say it again."
I smile despite myself. He's a crazy person. Completely, utterly crazy.
And I think I love it.
Singing in front of Gideon isn't as hard as I thought it would be when he can't take his eyes off me. He watches me with that heated intensity that makes my chest ache and my core clench. My gaze drifts back to him again and again as I sing and strum my guitar and shimmy beneath the bar lights.
Now that Maya's planted the seed in my head, I can't help but notice that every time I look at John, he's watching me too, his expression intent and inscrutable. It's as if he's hyperfocused on me. I've never really paid attention to it before, but I guess he has always watched me the same way. I can't unsee now, though. It's a little unnerving how single-minded he is.
I try to force him out of my head, opting to focus on Gideon instead.
Halfway through the show, I decide to have a little fun with him. I call for a volunteer to come up for me to sing to them. When I do this, I usually reserve it for shows where kids are present and pick one of them. I sing a sweet song and then give them a T-shirt. But tonight, I hop down off the stage and squeeze my way through the crowd, pretending to consider who I want to drag up there with me. I have no intention of singing a sweet song, either.
I feel his gaze on me the whole time, as if he's just daring me to pick anyone other than him. I almost do it just to see what he'll do. But I'm not that crazy. I already know he's fully capable of causing a scene. So I taunt him for a few minutes and then pop out behind him.
"Hmm. Kind of tall and cranky looking," I tease, circling around his chair. "But I suppose you'll do."
"You're asking for a spanking, Sparrow," he murmurs beneath his breath, allowing me to drag him from his seat.
The crowd hoots and hollers as I drag him toward the stage. He pretends he's reluctant, but we both know there's not a chance in hell of him letting anyone else go up there with me.
My bassist plops a chair down in the middle of the stage.
Gideon eyes me from beneath hooded lids as he settles into it, stretching out like a cat at rest. But there's nothing tame or gentle about him. He's all wild and he knows it.
I sashay back to the band and whisper the song I want to sing. My bassist, Petey, nearly chokes on his tongue. They all know who Gideon is sort of. I introduced him to the band as my boyfriend yesterday. So they know he isn't just some guy from the crowd.
The band counts it off and starts to play. It's a new song, one the crowd hasn't heard before. But from the first note, there's no denying it's a slow, sensual song. There's a sexy twang to it that's unmistakable. The whole crowd hears those first notes and goes wild. Even Kane cracks up. I kind of expected him to throw a fit.
Gideon gives me a look that says he knows I'm up to something.
I sashay toward him, smirking, and run my hand down the side of his face.
"You're asking for trouble, Sparrow."
"You leave traces of desire on my skin as your hands explore every curve and line," I croon into the microphone. "Lost in the rhythm, our bodies entwined."
"Son of a bitch," he groans, going rigid in his chair. His eyes narrow on me, a sinful threat lurking in their depths. I'm going to pay for this. Dearly.
"The taste of whiskey on your lips, burning slow. You trail kisses down my throat, crooning for me to let it go."
I glance from him to the crowd. There are a few couples on the dance floor, swaying back and forth. But most everyone is watching us, fascinated. Can they tell that he isn't just someone from the crowd? Do they know that he scares and excites me at the same time? Can they see that I'm falling for him already?
John's watching us just as intently as before. But he doesn't look happy. In fact, he looks livid. His gaze meets mine, and I see the cold fury and rabid jealousy banked in his eyes. I see something else too. Hatred. And for the first time ever, I realize that Kane was right all along.
He does want to sleep with me. He holds my gaze for a moment and then gets up, and storms toward the door to the bar.
A chill rips through me, but I keep singing.
As soon as the last note dies, Gideon rises from the chair. "You're taking a break. Call it," he growls so only I hear him.
I meet his gaze, see how dark his eyes are, and quickly nod. "I'm going to take a short breather while the band has a little fun with you guys. I'll be back in five," I promise the crowd.
They all catcall and whistle as if they know exactly why I'm stepping away for a minute. My cheeks burn as Gideon and I hurry backstage.
As soon as we're out of sight, I'm in his arms. His lips come down on mine, his kiss hard and wild. He steals my breath and pieces of my soul, branding them with his name.
"Goddamn, Sparrow," he growls against my lips. "You damn near got yourself fucked right there on stage singing that shit like you wrote it for me."
"I did. I just didn't know it at the time." The song came in a dream. I woke up and wrote it in the middle of the night. I couldn't even remember what I'd been dreaming about. I just knew I woke up thinking that if I ever did let myself fall, I wanted to feel like that. He makes me feel the same way I felt that night.
He groans, kissing me again. "I need two minutes alone with you."
"My dressing room is empty."
I don't have to tell him twice. He boosts me up into his arms with his hands on my ass. I wrap my legs around his waist, clinging to him. I don't care who sees us. We're past that at this point. I just freaking sang the sexiest song I've ever written to him in front of dozens of people, including my brother and his wife.
He carries me into the small dressing room, nuzzling my neck.
My blood runs cold, my body going rigid in his arms. Everywhere I look, pictures of me stare back. They're everywhere taped to the walls. Tossed across the top of the vanity. There are dozens of them. And none of them were taken with my permission. They're all shot from a distance, as if someone was watching me from the bushes.
"Gideon," I whisper, my voice strangled.
He lifts his head and sees the same thing I do.
"Fuck," he roars, dragging me back out into the hall. His arms tighten around me as if he can physically protect me from what I just saw. But it's too late for that. There's no question anymore.
This isn't a sick prank. It's not a joke. Someone really is watching me. They've been watching me for months.