Creed (The Dark Sins Duet #1)

34. Creed

Chapter 34

Creed

I t’s concert night and we’ll take the stage in about three hours. Doors will open in two and I’m fucking exhausted already but I’m ready to get this show started. We’ve never done anything like this because bands typically just cancel or reschedule their tours. It’ll be a unique experience, that’s for sure. I talked to Jake this morning and he sounds like shit—worse than Collins’ did when she was recovering— but he says that he’s healing nicely and will be starting therapy soon.

I hope like fuck that it’s successful because Jake and his band worked their asses off to rise to their level of fame and I’d hate to see it burn out before he’s ready.

I’m standing center stage, overseeing the installation of the contraption that will hold the fabric that’ll hold Collins up during her routine. Silks, is what they’re called, apparently. Weird, considering the material is not, indeed, silk.

We’ve run through sound check twice now and we’d rehearsed snippets of each song for the set but we’re taking a break so the crew can finish the construction for this aerial setup for Collins.

“What the fuck is that thing for?” Steve snaps as he steps onto the stage. “That wasn’t part of anything we’d discussed, Creed.” He says, fingering through his folder that he no doubt pulled from that fantastic, magical suit jacket of his.

I roll my eyes as he stops next to me, staring up at the contraption. I smile at him with a grin that promises nothing but the shenanigans that he can’t stand on concert night. “Hello, Steve. I’m good. Thanks for asking. Sound check is going smoothly, too. Thanks for noticing.”

He scoffs and scans the rest of the stage to see Bear tuning his backup bass and Tony is shockingly calm as he sits cross-legged on the floor, re-stringing his Schecter seven-string that he typically uses during the second half of the set for our heavier, more guitar-centered songs. Riley’s got big headphones on; his lips curled between his teeth and brow furrowed in concentration as he taps against his silent drum pad. I sang just long enough for our sound guy to adjust my volume, but my main focus has always been to make sure that no instrument overpowers the other, that my voice doesn’t ring out over the music. I’d done some vocal warm-ups with Riley backstage while Collins spoke with the construction crew about the aerial setup.

Riley and I had taken Collins to a local studio this morning so that she could dance and practice her routine. If I thought she was talented in the dark lighting of that shitty club, it’s nothing compared to watching her in the bright light of day.

She’d worn short compression shorts and a black sports bra, but it may as well have been lingerie by the way she moved. It was mesmerizing to watch her. The flex of her muscles when she’d pull herself up, wrapping and wrapping the fabric around her body until she looked like a damn mummy, only to make my heart stop beating in my chest when she’d dropped and began to unravel. Riley and I both nearly bolted from the wall where we were sitting, ready to catch her before she hit the ground, but when she stopped herself with such grace and elegance, we were both once more sucked into the trance of her dancing.

It's no secret that I’m possessive as fuck over Collins and I don’t give a shit if she’s only been back in my life for a week. I’ve known her my whole life and I’ve obsessed over her for the last two years of that. I know what I want, so why the fuck would I wait and take things slow when I can have her now? I can’t explain why it doesn’t bother me to see Riley silently mooning over my girl, or the thought of him becoming a part of us so fast has my heart pumping, but not in a bad way. It fucking excites me.

I love Riley. I’m not attracted to him in a sexual or even romantic way, but that doesn’t stop me from showing him the affection he deserves, even if it drives him insane. Thing is, I’m fucking crazy enough to want to see Collins give him those affections, too. To see my girl giving him kisses and cuddling him late at night. See, this is the new bit of habitual fun I’ve picked up within the last several days—It’s the mental game I’m playing with myself, all these scenarios that involve the three of us and how the fuck I can make that a fantasy come to life.

Yeah, I should be bothered by the way I can tell that Riley is clearly smitten with Collins, but I’m not. I’m just the crazy fucker who’s turning dreams into reality. We’ll be like one of those books that authors write where the lady character doesn’t have to choose.

I’ll never make her choose. I’ll do that shit for her.

I’ll marry the both of them if I have to.

Mr. & Mrs. & Mr. Graves-St.James.

A damn mouthful, but it’s music to my ears.

Riley’s not the only one with shifting feelings. Oh, it’s not me, either. Collins is still mine and I’ve got zero plans of letting her go, rest assured. However, I’ve noticed the way my little blonde vixen watches Riley, too. It’s all innocent and platonic in their actions, but it’s impossible to miss the way she blushes when he smiles at her, or the way she nervously glances at me when he hugs her, like she’s waiting for me to snap .

I won’t, though.

She can cuddle the fuck out of my boy and I’d even join. Make a little Collins sandwich.

Yum.

Collins is definitely feeling something for Riley, but by the way she cried my name this morning when she woke up with my face buried between her thighs, I’d say her feelings for me are still firmly in place, too.

I’d never force her to choose, and I’m not going to try and put a stop to their growing feelings either. This is the twenty-first century and polyamory is a thing that no person should ever feel embarrassed or ashamed about. I know that the heart is capable of loving more than one person, and if Collins wants to find that with my best friend, too? I’ll be right by her side to help her navigate it.

Thing is, she’s too shy— outside of the bedroom, anyway —and her people-pleasing habits and undying loyalty would keep her from actually telling me how she feels. Riley only cares about everyone else’s happiness, but more specifically lately, Collins’ happiness. He wants to be that platonic best friend to her, to be that shoulder she can lean on, but I can see his hesitation at times when his own emotions and feelings for her get in the way.

It's cute, that neither of them have a clue that I know, or that I’m honest-to-fuck eager to see where this could go. We’re all family to each other in one way or another, so nothing would be changing about our dynamics, except that Collins would just have one more man to show her all the affection and love and pleasure that she deserves.

While Collins wrapped up her routine, I’d smacked a dramatic, wet kiss on Riley’s cheek and told him I was going to grab some coffee from the shop next door. I came back to see them huddled at the front of the studio, laughing and giggling over something Riley had said. I forgot all about the muffins I bought for them as my crazy-ass heart jumped in my chest at the picture of both of my favorite people looking so happy together. They both look like completely different people than they did even a week ago. They need each other. I need them. We need us.

Us.

I liked the idea of being a little throuple family. A little Collins sandwich.

Gotta do something about that.

That morning, I’d also explained to her that because of Lachlan’s warning, we’d probably have to disguise her a bit so that she’d not be recognized on stage, in the hopes that the piece of shit who’s been harassing her wouldn’t recognize her. I didn’t have it in my heart to tell her no, because while a part of me knew that if this guy was smart enough to scramble his phone signal, he’d surely have enough brains to put it together that we suddenly had an aerial artist performing with us at the same time Collins disappeared from his clutches, he also wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and come near her on or backstage with so many people surrounding her. I refuse to let this sad sack of shit force my girl to live in fear, to live in hiding and always looking over her shoulder. Collins is excited to perform tonight and I will do every-fucking-thing in my power to make it happen. She actually got excited and told me that she had an idea that would help to hide her face.

She’d gone shopping earlier with Ayla, getting whatever it was she needed for tonight and she’s been holed up on Bear’s bus with his sister ever since they got back after lunch. I love how fast my friends accepted her, not that I was worried about it. To meet Collins is to love everything about her.

I’d called and set up extra security, too. Though it’s rare for Ayla to be recognized, I’d sent an extra guard to keep an eye on them. He’d reported nothing amiss while the girls shopped and it eased some of the tension brewing in my chest while we’d set up and rehearsed. Granted, Bear had to drag me away from their bus three times and tell me to knock it the fuck off , so, ya know…baby steps and all that. I’d gi ven our security team the name and picture of the shitbag that Collins is pretty certain is responsible for her misery. The only instruction they were given was to detain him if they spotted him entering the arena and to hold him until we arrived. I wasn’t sure if he was even following us, but nothing is impossible with this guy, it seems.

“Earth to Creed,” Steve waves his meaty hand in my face, snapping me out of my thoughts, and I scrunch my nose at the close proximity and slap it away. “You going to tell me what the fuck this thing is that my crew is putting together?”

I sigh at the audacity of this motherfucker and take an intentional step away and hold up a finger. “First of all, Steve, you might be the manager, but you don’t fucking own us or anyone working for us. This is the crew of Dark Sins , not you.” A second finger goes up as he opens his mouth to protest, his jowls jiggling with the motion. “Second of all, this frame is for a special performance during the encore.”

He looks at me like I just told him the sky is pink. I feel like I can physically see the gears sputtering and grinding together in his mind as he tries to put things together. He mutters under his breath, running his fingers through his greased back hair before he speaks again, his eyes wide with whatever conclusion he’s come to.

“Is it that girl? The one on the bus?” He asks, stuffing his hands into the giant pockets of his suit jacket. “She some kind of stripper you found in that club? What did Tony call them?”

I take a threatening step toward him but try to keep some distance because I know others are watching. I fight to keep my expression neutral but instead I shoot him a grin that promises violence. Ah, fuck it. Close enough. “She’s not a fucking tag along , Steve. Yes, this thing is for her, but she’s not a fucking stripper you short dick. She’s a dancer and if you speak about her again we’re going to have a fucking problem.”

“Jesus Christ, Creed. Who is she?” He asks, his face red-flushed and flustered.

“She’ s fucking mine. That’s who she is.”

“We talking about Collins?” Tony swaggers up to Steve because he can’t go a day without his head shoved so far up his wannabe daddy’s ass.

Steve grins with satisfaction and I want nothing more than to find out if my hands can fit around his neck and squeeze until the light in his eyes goes out. Permanently. I shoot Tony a glare as Steve opens his mouth. “So she does have a name.”

“Sure does, just like every other human being on this planet. And you’re going to keep it out of your fucking mouth.” I point a finger in his direction, then look at Tony. “Same goes for you, motherfucker. You leave her the fuck alone and we won’t have a problem. Yeah?”

Tony just lifts his hands in mock surrender but his eyes flit behind me and widen a little before he can say anything. I turn to see Collins with two large brown paper bags and a tray of drinks in her hand, making her way to Riley from backstage. All the air leaves my lungs when I take her in. She’s a fucking vision. She’s wearing a sheer long sleeved crop top with a plaid pattern printed in the fabric. You can see her black bralette beneath, and a spike-studded harness strapped over the whole top ensemble. She’s wearing a black latex -looking skirt that sways and plumes when she walks and I catch sight of a leather garter strapped to her thigh. She’s wearing sheer black tights with her new Doc Martens that she bought when Riley took her shopping. She looks like a fucking fashion model… but shorter. Her hair has me stopping in my tracks, though. It looks like a kaleidoscope of cotton candy colors. The ends of her hair are a mixture of pinks, blues, and purples and I’m blown away. It looks so damn good on her.

Riley takes a curled strand in his fingers, thumbing it softly before releasing it and taking a drink from her hand, several rings adorning her fingers and her nails looking dangerously sharp.

Wanna feel those scraping down my back deep enough to claw her way inside and make a home there.

With my focus on her face, I notice that her makeup—as usual— is minimal but even from a distance I notice she’s added a simple eyeliner and a deep purple lipstick that I’m already making a plan in my mind to see it smeared all over my cock later tonight.

Their fingers just barely brush and I take great delight in the way both of their cheeks flush at the tiniest of contact.

She looks like a vision and it seems like everyone’s eyes are on Collins as she pulls a chocolate chip muffin from the bag and gives it to Riley. My cock twitches behind my jeans when I watch my best friend tear a piece off and offer it to Collins, but her hands are too full to take the bite. So instead of reaching out to take it from him, she leans forward and eats the bit of muffin directly from between his fingers. She’s careful in taking it but her lips brush his fingertips anyway, leaving a dot of purple. Riley’s face flames as he takes a nervous step back and bites into his own muffin. His eyes find mine and they widen in what looks like fear. I feel awful that he feels this way, so I shoot him a wink and a grin that hopefully tells him how not pissed I am that her lips are on him in some way. His shoulders sag in relief before he takes another bite and a drink from his cup and makes his way back over behind his drum set, but instead of sitting down, he takes off backstage.

I don’t have time to analyze his quick escape before I hear Collins’ sweet voice call my name and I swear that nothing has ever sounded sweeter.

I make my way over and the closer I get, the more stunning Collins is. Her outfit is fucking perfect for the concert and I can tell it’s going to be a massive distraction, knowing that other people will be seeing her like this. I won’t ever stop her from dressing how she wants, but I also won’t be stopped from using a dirty, rusty spoon to pluck out the eyeballs of anyone whose eyes linger on her for too long. I know tonight is going to be torture.

“ Stardust ,” I say as I approach her and wrap an arm around her, pulling her flush against my chest. She smiles up at me and I’m fucking gone for her. I dip my head down my lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “You look absolutely fucking edible.” I pull back to see her cheeks flush, the freckles becoming more prominent on her face. “And I love what you did to your hair.”

“Thank you,” she says, her cheeks still pink as she hands me a drink from the tray and holds the open bag toward me. “Ayla helped me with my hair, but I picked the outfit. It looks okay for the concert? I’ll change before the encore, but I’ve never been to a concert before and wanted to go all out.”

“Baby, you look like a fucking wet dream.” I say low enough that she can hear, but quiet enough that no one else can eavesdrop. “I want nothing more than to fuck you up against the wall in this sexy as fuck outfit, but I don’t want to mess up your makeup…yet.” Her breathing is coming a little faster and it fills me with sick satisfaction that I’m getting her as riled up as I am before the concert tonight.

What she doesn’t know is that I booked a hotel suite for the two of us tonight so that I can fuck her properly and make her scream the way I want. I’ve got a plan in place and it’s time to start planting the little idea seedlings into her and Riley’s minds. I pull a muffin out and feed her a bite, just as Riley did. Her lipstick leaves the faintest mark on my fingertips but it’s not enough.

I bend down so that I’m eye-level with her and cup her face gently. “I want to see that purple lipstick all over my cock, but I wouldn’t dare smear it before tonight.” She looks at me, her jade eyes as quizzical as they are filled with lust and desire. “But I want that color on me somehow for the concert.”

“You—you want me to kiss you?” She asks, her expression brightening at the thought of leaving the claiming evidence of her lipstick on my skin.

“Mhmm,” I say, pulling her closer to me. “Pick a spot, Stardust . Mark me as yours. I want everyone to see that I’m yours, even if they can’t know who you are right now.”

“Okay,” She whispers and smiles then leans back and looks me over appreciatively. I love having her eyes on me. Her eyes settle on my neck and her hands lift, cradling the back of my head and pulls me closer. I can feel everyone’s eyes on us but I don’t give a shit. Nothing will deter me from letting this girl claim me. Before she leans in she says softly, “I still can’t believe this is real. That you’re here and that I’m yours. I feel like I’m going to wake up and it’ll all have been a dream.”

“Hey,” I murmur, dipping my head to look at her and hooking a finger under her chin to make sure she’s paying attention. “It’s real. We are real. Did everything we are, everything between us happen really fucking fast? Fuck yes it did, but it’s as real as real as it gets. You’re not just mine,” I say. You could be Riley’s, too, if you wanted I think, but I don’t say that because that’d just freak her out. “I’m yours, too. Only yours, and I want you in every way I can have you. I’m not going anywhere, no matter what, Stardust .”

Her shoulders drop in relief and she gives me the sweetest smile that makes her look like a true angel that’s escaped the heavens…if angels were five-foot-three, tatted, and pierced, with cotton candy hair and deep purple lips made for sin. I’ll do everything in my power to keep that smile on her face. I take the bags and drink tray from her and she rests her hands on my biceps as she pushes impossibly closer to me.

“You really want my lipstick on you?” she says, her light, husky voice barely above a shaky whisper. She’s nervous and I fucking adore her.

“Anywhere and everywhere you can reach, baby.” And I mean it. I want to be covered in that seductive color. Since it’s frowned upon to carry her everywhere like the little koala sized woman she is, I’ll settle for having something of hers on my body at all times. Next time, I’m devouring her sweet pussy, then going out on stage with her sweet release still coating my lips and tongue. This rapid attachment and obsession I have with Collins is fucking crazy but that’s just what I am now. A little crazy.

Using her thumbs under my jaw, Collins pushes my head back, exposing more of my neck before pressing up on the tips of her toes and pressing her soft lips to my Adam’s apple and I shiver with pure, undiluted delight. What’s even better is that she doesn’t stop there. When I look at her with a smile that encompasses pure mischief, I tell her “more” and she grins as she maneuvers me again, looking for a new spot to mark. She pulls my face to hers and she places another kiss on my cheek, just below the corner of my right eye. Another at the side of my neck where it meets my shoulder. Again on my collar bone.

My dick is getting harder in my pants and the temptation to fuck her is growing stronger and stronger. Collins takes me by surprise when she leans back and takes in her handiwork, her lips quirk up into a devilish grin. Her lipstick is still perfectly in place. I’ll have to change that later. She bites her lower lip and something shifts in her bright green eyes.

“I think you need one more.” She drawls, her voice husky and I’m about one thread away from snapping and dragging her to my dressing room. I fucking love when she gets these boosts of confidence. It’s intoxicating when she goes after what she wants.

I grin, our faces still close and I want to close the distance and kiss her until she’s a fucking mess. “By all means, Stardust .” I quip in invitation.

She leans in once more and places a kiss on the left corner of my mouth and I groan at the near contact. I’m sure I look like a teenager who just emerged from a heavy session of seven minutes in heaven, but I truly don’t have a fuck to give. I asked her to mark me, and I’ll be wearing her bright purple brand on my skin all goddamned night with nothing but pride like it’s a badge of honor.

I smile and place a kiss on the tip of her nose. “How do I look?” I ask, taking one agonizing step back and biting into my muffin.

“Like mine.” She answers, and I fucking melt.

“Perfect.”

“Creed!” Steve shouts even though he’s like three feet behind me now. I turn and step in front of a now-stiff Collins, and it pisses me off that his abrasiveness caused her to lock up. I keep myself positioned between the two of them, blocking him from being able to see her more than he already has. He takes in the lipstick that’s all over me now and tries to sneer at Collins over my shoulder as he furrows his brow. “You need to go clean that shit off your skin and come back for a final run through before they open the doors. You’ve got two minutes to wipe your face and get back here. The fucking extra construction is done so you all need to get ready.”

I need to talk to the band about finding a new manager because I’m fucking sick of Steve and the high horse he thinks he’s riding on. “Not sure what you’re talking about, Steve.” I make a show of sniffing my shirt and throwing my arms out wide. “I’m squeaky fucking clean.”

“You’re covered in a woman’s fucking purple lipstick,” He hisses through his teeth pointing a thick finger at the plum-colored kisses that adorn my skin.

“And?” I volley back. Ayla must have approached because I hear her talking to Collins, their voices trailing off as they go backstage to the meet and greet room. It’s empty for now, but it’s more comfortable than waiting in the dressing rooms. I’m glad she’s being taken away from Steve’s line of sight. “Artists have gone on stage with more makeup than this. Ever heard of Kiss ? I’m sure you were a teen or something when they first debuted, right?” I tease and I relish in the way his face reddens and twists up in irritation. “I’m not fucking washing my face, Steve.”

I ignore his argument and turn to my bandmates who are all gearing up. “We ready for the final run-through?”

They all agree and Steve stalks off while spewing a string of curses in my name, in the opposite direction that Ayla took Collins, much to my relief. Bear takes in my new state and just smiles and shakes his head, while Riley’s eyes widen before he looks away, his freckled cheeks now bright red. I turn away from Tony before he can get a good look and grab my guitar as I walk up to the microphone.

“Alright, fuckers. Let’s do this shit.” I call out and the final rehearsal begins, eager to get it over with so I can officially claim my little Stardust in every single way.

COLLINS

Sex.

That’s what Creed is when he performs on stage.

Pure unadulterated sex.

It’s hypnotizing to watch the way his body moves as he performs for the crowd, the heavy rawness of his voice when he sings, the way his muscles shift with every move he makes. The amount of times I had to clench and rub my thighs together just by watching his jaw move or his throat flex is ridiculous. I had to fight to stay in the moment at times because I was close enough to see his mouth, and all I could see every time he stuck his tongue out at the crowd was the way that very muscle felt working me to multiple orgasms this morning.

If the crowd was upset that As We Stand didn’t appear, it didn’t show. Ayla had done an amazing job with getting the word out that Dark Sins would be taking their place and honoring his friend’s band by performing some covers, as well. The crowd ate that shit up all night and the cheers and screams almost never stopped. Myself included.

I’d never been to a concert before and this first experience is everything I imagined it would be and more. I’d nearly fainted on the spot when Creed had dedicated their song, Lost to ‘his girl’. That, combined with the fact that he actually kept my lipstick marks all over his skin, I was fucking soaking, dripping wet for him.

His eyes were quick to find mine— which wasn’t hard, considering I was in a heavily guarded area just in front of the pit, so no one could really see my face to take pictures —and sang every word directly to me. It’s one of their newer songs about a guy and a girl who lived worlds apart. Creed’s voice crooned with such heavy emotion as he told the story of how he was too late to save her before she gave up and saved herself, but as time went on, she became lost to him. How his care for her grew into a lust and a passion, obsession and possession.

The fucking song was about us. Me and Creed. I could feel every emotion he felt when I left, trying to save myself. His voice was filled with passion and grit, but at the end of the song, it changed. It became something darker. A promise that if he found his lost girl, he’d chain her to him to keep her forever.

A shiver runs up my spine as I stand backstage as I think about the weight of the words that Creed sang. He’s told me many times that what he feels is real, but the fact that he put it into a freaking song before we even found each other again tells me that what he’s been feeling runs a lot longer and deeper than I’d ever imagined. I don’t mind the thought of being owned by Creed because I know that it wouldn’t be a sacrifice of freedom. It would be quite the opposite, actually. That man would do everything in his power to make me feel free.

And I love him more for it.

I just have to hope that they can get rid of Guy , somehow. I don’t want to live a life constantly looking over my shoulder and worrying about mine, Creed’s, or Riley’s safety.

I shake off any budding thoughts of my tormentor and focus on breathing and stretching out my muscles as I watch the band wrap up their last song before the encore. I’m so nervous to go out on stage and perform in front of thousands of people that my stomach is in knots.

I’m wearing a silky robe over the outfit that Creed and Riley had picked out for me. I took Ayla with me to a costume store that I’d found by pure luck and she helped me pick out the perfect accessories to help disguise my identity to the world. When security led me backstage through this fancy tunnel thing that was under the physical stage, she met me in Creed’s dressing room and helped to paint over my tattoos with this iridescent paint with swirls and patterns that go all the way down to my fingertips. She’s fucking talented, I’ll give her that. I’d also picked out a lilac colored masquerade mask that was covered in glitter and sequins that she helped tie on. It matched my…outfit perfectly. This thing is even more scandalous than anything I’d even worn at Viper. It’s hardly more than a fancy, blinged out bra and thong with lots of extra straps that cross and wrap around my body. I’ve got my hair curled and partially pulled up into matching space buns, which were strategically placed so that my mask wouldn’t slip off my face while flipping around in the silks. I’m not entirely sure that Creed and Riley knew what they were buying when they picked it out. They’ll find out soon enough, I guess.

My gaze drifts over to Riley as he takes off into an insane drum solo and I’m mesmerized by him. My eyes are locked onto him and every movement he makes. He lost his shirt at some point during the concert because it’s hotter than Satan’s ass crack in here with the mass amount of bodies getting worked up over the sweet seduction of Dark Sins’ music. I can’t look away from Riley. He’s deep in concentration, his dark eyes focused on the drum set in front of him. I let my eyes rove over his body and it truly is a beautiful sight. He’s fucking flawless. Beautiful. Butterflies erupt in my belly when he hits the cymbals one last time and stands, his arms above his head, every muscle in his chest and abdomen stretched and on display for the crowd to devour. But it’s his smile that he gives the crowd that has me reeling. That wide, excited grin that shows off those damn fae-like canines.

Creed thanks the crowd and the band starts to leave the stage, and Riley’s eyes meet mine as he steps down from the drum set. My heart starts beating even faster than it already was when he looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world he sees.

Strong arms wrap around me, popping the little bubble I’d built around myself and instantly I feel ashamed for looking at my boyfriend’s best friend the way that I was. I feel Creed’s lips brush over my neck as he whispers in my ear .

“I was staring at him, too, Stardust .” I jerk and turn in his hold, ready to apologize profusely, but I’m greeted with a wide, heart-stopping, happy grin. He dips his head and captures my lips in his, my now purple lipstick adding to the growing collection of kiss marks on his face. I melt into him, falling into the comfort of his embrace. He pulls back, his eyes shining. He cups my face and leans in close, speaking so softly I can barely hear him over the roar of the crowd screaming for an encore. “It’s okay to want him, too.”

I barely have time to register his words and have no time to conjure up a response before he kisses my temple and rushes past me to pull his best friend into a hug, slapping him on the back as he releases him. He says something to Riley that has him laughing and I’m momentarily stunned by Creed’s words. They were said so quickly and quietly that I wonder if that’s what he really said and I’d just made it all up.

What the hell does that mean? Does he not want me like I thought he did? Does he think whatever I’ve been feeling for Riley is affecting the way I feel for him? Because it doesn’t. I don’t even know what it is I’m feeling for Ri, but it’s more than I felt when we’d first bonded. My mind has been warring with the guilt and acceptance that I’m feeling something for two men.

I haven’t told a damn soul, but Creed had to have picked up on it because he wouldn’t have said anything otherwise. I’m starting to feel sweaty and panicky when a water bottle appears in front of me. Ayla is there, with an inquisitive look on her face. Her head tilts to the side as she takes me in. She reaches out and gently squeezes my shoulder.

“You alright?” She asks, her voice soft and sweet.

“Um, y-yeah.” I say unconvincingly, pulling my attention from Creed and Riley who are chugging water and dabbing the sweat from their faces. It’s almost comical to see how careful Creed is being to not smear or wipe away my lipstick marks, the purple now covering his own lips. I look at Ayla who turns long enough to see what, or who, I’m looking at and she smiles when she turns back to me .

“Don’t worry about them, right now.” She says. I’m hoping like fuck I’m not that transparent about my feelings that everyone around me can see me lusting after two men. “You need to focus on you right now, you don’t need to be distracted before performing. Whatever is worrying you, put the passion of it into your performance, and address it later. You’ve got this.”

I take a deep breath and let her words sink in. I know she’s talking about me performing, but it sounds like more. And I’m thankful for her words. She leaves me without another word and I take a moment to take a deep breath and refocus my attention.

“You gonna take that off and show us your fuckin’ smokin’ body, girl?” A voice speaks into my ear, yanking me right out of my calm state. Tony slinks around me, his eyes raking up and down my body and I hug my robe tighter, crossing my arms to cover more of myself. I’ve barely interacted with this guy but he just gives me this bad feeling like he can’t be trusted. Being alone with him is the last thing I want and I start looking around for Creed and Riley, or even Bear, but I can’t find any of them in the darkness of the backstage area.

“Excuse me?” I snap, looking anywhere but at Tony’s snake-like face.

“I’ve been dying to see this tight body again. You’ve been my favorite from the first time I stepped foot in Viper.” He groans, grabbing his junk over his tight jeans and squeezes. My insides twist violently at the word ‘again’, and the realization that he’s seen me at the club more than once slams into me hard. “But my favorite part,” He growls, and in a flash, he grabs my wrist and yanks me to him. I struggle in his hold, but his grip only tightens to the point of pain. My mind threatens to slip into a safe space as the touch reminds me of my past, but I fight to keep myself grounded in the present. I refuse to let him take advantage of me in a weakened state. He leans in and his hot, stale breath wafts into my ear, “My favorite parts are those mind-blowing happy endings you give in the masked VIP room.” He leans back, licking his lips and looking at me like he wants to eat me alive. My stomach roils with nausea and every drop of blood feels like it drains from my body at what he just admitted. I feel dizzy with the realization that this guy, one of Creed’s bandmates, was most likely one of the men who had assaulted me when Tank started forcing me to these anonymous rooms to ‘pay off my debts’.

I lift my chin in defiance, looking down my nose at him, even being a whole head shorter. “Then you’re a fucking monster, just like the rest of those assholes who used those rooms.” I seethe as anger begins to boil within me and I clench my jaw. I highly doubt that Bear, Creed, or Riley participated with Tony, but the fact that he’s saying I’ve touched him in ways I never wanted to, that he took pleasure from me in those rooms, has me seeing red. With as much strength I can put into the motion, I yank my wrist free from his grip and turn to find Creed when Tony’s hand shoots out and grips me by the back of my neck instead, forcing my back to his front. I yelp at the rough grip but my stupid fucking voice doesn’t make more than a whisper of a noise. I want to vomit when I feel his erection pressing into my ass.

“You wouldn’t want to run and tell your little boyfriends about this, would you?” I don’t miss the way he said ‘boyfriends’ and not the singular ‘boyfriend’. My lip curls in disgust as he grinds himself against me. “Because I’ve got the most beautiful proof of the little whore you are, and how much you fucking love to be passed around.” He says as his phone comes into view, and tears sting at my eyes when I take in the video playing.

It's me in my red wig and matching red teddy bodysuit. I have a vacant, far-off look in my eyes, my pupils blown wide. I barely remember this night. One of the men in the room had given me a drink to ‘loosen me up’ and I stupidly drank it, wanting to numb the pain of what I was being forced to do, not realizing it was laced with a date-rape drug that made me much more pliant. Little did they know that I’d already gone somewhere else in my mind, the drug putting me in a further mentally catatonic state. I feel a physical pain in my chest to see my lips wrap around what I assume to be Tony’s pencil dick and take him to the back of my throat—which honestly doesn’t look like much now, but still.

I look away from the video and glance around for Creed and Riley again but still don’t see them.

Where the fuck are they?

The crowd outside is going nuts as music starts to play in the background, indicating that the show isn’t over yet.

I struggle in Tony’s grip, but it only tightens and he laughs in my ear. The shrill sound makes me shrink into myself. “You tell a goddamned soul, and I’ll make sure this video is the first thing Creed and Riley see, followed by the rest of the fucking world.”

“What do you want?” I grit through clenched teeth, trying to hide the way my voice shakes.

“I want what I got in the room that night. Those sweet, plump lips wrapped around my dick. You’re already living with two men, what’s one more? You’ve got three holes, after all.”

Oh, fuck no. I’ve fucking had enough of dumb motherfuckers trying to blackmail me and threaten me. I turn on my heel, the quick motion causing him to release my neck. Looking up into his soulless eyes, I peer at him from beneath my lashes and struggle to fight my nausea as I run my hands up his chest. Now it’s his turn for his pupils to dilate. “If it’s just a blowjob you wanted then…” I trail off, my hands roving down his arms seductively, my nails scraping lightly along his skin. He shivers at the touch. But before he can blink, I’m grabbing the phone in his hand and launching at the wall. It shatters and lands on the ground with a satisfying crunch. I turn back to him and shove him so hard he falls back on his ass.

I take a step forward and point a finger down at his shocked form. “I’m fucking sick of being threatened by pieces of shit like you. You think your threats scare me? They don’t. You think I won’t report your ass for sexual harassment? You’re. Fucking. Wrong.” I spit, hoping he can feel every ounce of venom saturating my words. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

I take off down the hall, looking for Creed. The adrenaline rush is starting to wear off rapidly and I can feel myself starting to panic again. I reach his dressing room and just as I move to shove the door open, it swings inward and a figure appears in the doorway. I wrap my arms around his bare chest and squeeze tight. The familiar clean scent hits me and I know it’s Riley. My mind settles a little as he wraps his arms around me and hugs me back.

“You okay, Snow?” The last thing I need is to cause a problem on the first night before the encore so I plaster a fake smile on my face that I hope is convincing as I pull back and look at him as Creed comes up behind him.

“Yeah, just nervous, I guess.” I lie, turning my smile to Creed as I take a step back away from them. “Where were you two? I was looking for you after I got distracted by the craziness of everyone rushing around backstage but couldn’t find you earlier.” I try to make the question sound casual.

Creed shoulders past Riley with a kiss to his temple and takes my hand in his, leading me back the way I came. “I’m sorry, Stardust . Fucking Steve insisted on asking us a thousand questions about what to do after the show before going back out for the encore.” He says as we weave through the halls and approach the backstage area where Tony is now absent, as well as his shattered phone. He glances at Riley, who is still shirtless, by the way. “Which is fucking weird considering we already discussed it this morning.” He huffs a laugh but it lacks humor. “I’d think he’s getting a little too forgetful lately.” His words sound more cryptic than just the surface value, and I also can’t help but wonder if there was a connection between Steve and Tony’s actions happening at the same time, since I’ve observed that Tony likes to live with his nose half-buried in the manager’s asshole most of the time.

There’s no fucking way I’m letting Tony get away with what he did to me just minutes earlier, or with the video he recorded of me. I’m hit with a wave of nausea again and I can’t deny that I’m terrified and anxious to tell Creed and Riley because the last thing I want is to create yet another issue since we’ve already got the problem that is my former foster father following me around and threatening me and those around me.

But I promised that I would open up and be honest about needing help, so that’s what I’m going to do… after the show.

Fuck, I’m just ready for all of this to be over. I want to live an easy, care-free life for once with the people I choose who choose me back.

We stop at the edge of the stage where the crew is securing the silks to the frame and the crowd is losing their minds. Creed grabs the back of my neck in the same spot that Tony did and it makes me jerk in his hold, causing his brow to furrow. But before he can question it, I grab his face in my hands and add three more kisses to his collection on his face and neck, hoping it’ll distract him. It also fills me with sick satisfaction that he’s now covered in more of my marks.

One of the stage crew approaches Creed and wordlessly hands him a mic, which he takes before turning to me, just as I look at Riley, who was already looking at me. His cheeks are flushed, having apparently watched me put my kisses all over Creed again. A strange feeling floods my chest and I’m not sure how to label it, but I don’t like it.

“You ready?” Creed half shouts toward me over the roar of the crowd. I shake down my body, blowing out a breath and clearing my mind of the bullshit. It works for a second before Creed’s lips are on me, kissing my neck and speaking into my ear, “I think Ri looks really good in purple, too.”

The fuck? Does he want me to kiss Riley or something?

I’m utterly confused and my heart starts pounding as music starts playing and I see that Bear and Tony are already out on stage, starting up my favorite song, Malevolent Melody. I stare at Creed as he starts backing away, keeping eye contact with me with a huge, mischievous grin on his face. He nods, as if to confirm what he just said before lifting the mic to his mouth. “How about one more song for this fuckin’ beautiful city, huh?” I can’t hear shit as the volume of the cheering reaches near-deafening levels .

Riley’s about to go on stage and before I can really think about my actions, I grab his wrist to stop him. He turns back to me, eyeing me with curiosity. Taking what Creed said, I lift up on the tips of my toes at the same time he bends down and I plant a kiss on his cheek, just below his eye on the scar where I’d clawed him is nearly healed, but as soon as I pull back, I avert my gaze to the floor as I turn him by his shoulders and shove him out on stage before he can react to what I just did.

I feel a little ridiculous because I’d just listened to Creed blindly and marked Riley without even asking what he wanted. I’d be lying if I said the feeling of his warm body close to mine or the heat of his cheek beneath my lips didn’t make my belly flutter with an eruption of butterflies. Something I shouldn’t be feeling for my boyfriend’s best friend. I feel anxious over what I’d just done, knowing everyone within the first few rows of the arena will see two band members out there now marked with my lipstick.

The guilt rises as I think about how Riley does everything he can to stay out of the spotlight in the media and something like what I just did would put him under scrutiny that I’d never want to subject to someone as sweet and tender-hearted as him. But I feel the tension loosen in my chest when I see the sweet, shy smile he’s trying to hide as he climbs the platform and takes his seat behind the drum set and starts up, picking up and pounding out a beat to the song like he was there playing all along.

The intro of the song is dragged out as Creed mounts the microphone to the stand and addresses the crowd. “Tonight I thought we’d do something a little different for you.” Screams and whistles erupt and I smile at the way they practically eat out of the palm of his hand. “You see, we’ve decided to gift you with a very special performance tonight. And I say ‘gift’ because that’s exactly what this talented girl is—a fucking gift.” He practically shouts the last words and the excitement is palpable.

I allow the energy to seep into my bones, and it makes me excited to get out there. I’ve performed before, and this time will be no different than other times. Just, like, tens of thousands more people. But who’s counting?

“Let her hear you!” Creed shouts, holding his arms out wide before turning to me with a smile that both melts my heart and has me clenching my thighs together. His outstretched hand shifts toward me in invitation and I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and step out onto the stage.