Melodies that Bind (Survival Records #3)

Chapter 1 Darius

Nerves rock through me as we walk off the stage.

The audience is screaming behind me, acting like the strongest drug I’ve ever had, but it does nothing to boost me out of the dread swirling in the pit of my stomach.

I’m only here because Tristan went missing, and I’ve picked up enough in the time I’ve been playing for Raina to know she loves him.

I’ve lost count of the times I’ve caught her wiping away tears over missing him when she thought nobody was looking.

And now he’s back.

What does that mean for me? Will I get kicked to the curb because he’s decided to magically return?

I’ve wanted nothing more than to get the chance to play for my all time crush, and now it might get ripped away.

Being around her… it’s the first time I’ve ever felt like more than a fill-in guy.

She listens. Not only to the music—I mean really listens. Looks at me like I actually matter.

Before I joined their band, I never planned shit past the next gig. But one day around her, and suddenly I’m thinking about tomorrow. About tours. About waking up to her voice. That’s never happened to me before.

It’s why I kissed her, desperate to sear myself into her soul. To mark myself there so she won’t dismiss me with him being back. I don’t want to go back to the invisible man I used to be…

Sure, I was infatuated with her before I met her, but not with the glossy pop princess the tabloids shoved down everyone’s throat.

It was her voice, her lyrics, the way something in her performances felt like a cry for help no one else noticed.

But being with her in real life… it’s different.

She’s stronger than the world ever gave her credit for, braver, softer, sharper.

She lets me see the parts she hid from everyone else.

Watching her take back her career, watching her find herself again…

that’s what’s making me fall for her for real.

And I fear it’s one-sided.

I hasten my steps, needing to reach her before she finds Tristan. One more shot, a chance to show her I’m not some schmuck using her like so many before me.

She pauses to speak to Gill, one of the best manager assistants I’ve encountered. It gives me time to lift the strap of my guitar over my head as a roadie stands next to me, waiting for my instrument.

By the time I hand off my guitar, and my attention is back on her, she’s already running off.

“Raina! Where are you going?” I shout over the hustle and bustle of the backstage area—the crews are already working on tearing down everything so they can put it back together in the next city we travel to.

She doesn’t respond, leaping over a guitar case left haphazardly open with the instrument exposed, most likely a backup piece someone already started to pack up.

Gill snaps at someone, pointing her finger toward the obstacles and instructing her crew to make sure they don’t leave such disorder in the future.

My stomach clenches watching Raina’s blonde hair flowing behind her as she disappears out of view. Did I lose my chance? Is this it, the end of my time with her?

Fuck.

The roadie, who has my instrument in one hand, reaches out to take Nash’s as well. “She’s probably off to find Tristan.” He turns his head to glance at a scowling Keaton. “Think we should give them a moment alone? We probably owe him that.”

The silent drummer gives a grunt. The sound gives me the impression he doesn’t really want to say yes, but he’ll do it all the same. It’s a little surprising since he usually makes sure she’s never alone. It makes me want to follow her all the more.

I move to follow Raina, a desperation I can’t name urging me on.

I’m certainly motivated by my feelings for her, but there’s something else there too.

Glancing across the hall to the green room, I find Mr. Lexington exiting, a dark gleam crossing his features before disappearing altogether.

If I weren’t watching so carefully, I’d question if I even saw it at all.

Behind him, I catch a glimpse of Carmen with Napalm Delights. It’s weird as fuck that they’re hanging around when they aren’t performing on this tour. It only confirms the rumors I’ve heard of how Mr. Lexington runs his company—the grooming and assault that runs rampant with his female performers.

I’ve always wondered if his niece was exempt from it, but it didn’t take long for me to figure out the answer once I got here…

As I shift to the side of the hall to walk past him, he moves into my path, holding his hands out in some kind of gesture of greeting. “Gentlemen, I’m glad I ran into you,” he says with fake enthusiasm. “I want to talk to you about your future with the label.”

The others gather around me, probably wanting to do the same thing as me, make sure Raina is safe, even if we simply stand outside her dressing room as we give her time to meet the bandmate who gave her so much turmoil. At least that’s where I’m assuming she went.

“What do you mean?” Blake asks, his voice cool and even, with a slight air of I-don’t-give-a-shit-what-you-have-to-say.

I like the bloke. He’s a good guy, and cares for Raina.

All of them are, really. The only one I don’t know is Tristan, but I’m leaning toward him being an asshole. It’s clear he broke her heart.

“What are your goals beyond Raina’s tour?” the knob answers, or Dickless as Raina likes to call him.

First off, I don’t care to engage in this conversation. I’m here to play with Raina. If a day comes where that ends and I’m excused from her band, then I’ll find another gig with a label I respect. There’s no way I’d work for Lexington Productions outside of this situation.

Second, this feels like a stalling tactic.

Like he’s purposefully blowing smoke up our arses to keep us here.

Which makes me suspicious as fuck. I frown, narrowing my eyes as I edge around him while he’s distracted with the others.

Glancing behind me, I find Keaton’s ever-watchful eyes on me.

In the split second we hold contact, we share an understanding on three key points.

Dickless is keeping us from her on purpose.

I’ll find her.

He’ll make sure the wanker is kept busy.

As quietly as possible, I find my way down the hall, navigating the maze of this old building to find the dressing room they gave us. I slow when Izzy leaves the room, shutting the door behind her.

“Is she in there?” My heart clenches with the question, because deep down I know the answer, and I’m already panicking with concern. My gut is telling me something isn’t right, and she needs us.

Izzy gives me a smile. “Great performance as always, Darius. I’m surprised the two of you decided to go that far with the fake dating.”

I run a hand along the back of my neck and clear my throat; I don’t want to show her the impatience working its way through me.

It’s hard to keep my focus on her comment when my mind is centered on Raina…

Is Izzy trying to call me out, or does she think I discussed the kiss with Raina ahead of time?

I can’t work it out, so I go with vague. “Uh, yeah. Is she in there?”

Izzy is a powerhouse, someone I’d love to discuss strategies with, but the small talk is killing me right now.

“No, she isn’t. I was making sure the man waiting inside wasn’t some crazed fan.” Izzy gives me a puzzled frown as she waves a hand at the door. Good to know Tristan is in there, but that doesn’t explain where Raina went. “Didn’t you just get off stage?”

“Yeah, we did.” I’m already turning and rushing down the hall halfway through my answer. She must’ve made a wrong turn. It’s the only explanation. But what scares me is the dread burning deep in my stomach.

I retrace my steps, ducking my head into rooms as I go, making sure she isn’t with them until I find a door that seems like it leads to a main hallway that’s locked.

Straining to hear on the other side, the sound of scuffling and a muted cry for help barely reaches me.

An electric shock of adrenaline shoots through my body, forcing me into action without another thought.

Somehow I know it’s Raina. It has to be with the gut feeling nagging at me.

It might’ve been a while since I’ve played rugby, but my rusty skills will still serve me well when tackling this door open.

I back up as far as I can, giving me as much of a running start as I can, and push off, leaning my shoulder toward the flat surface.

The impact reverberates through me, a dull thud as the door stubbornly holds.

My shoulder throbs with the force of it, but I can’t stop.

Not when Raina could potentially be in danger.

“Raina!” I call out, hoping she hears me, praying that whoever has her doesn’t realize they’re at risk of being discovered. Or maybe he should realize and try to escape. Yes, that’s a better outcome.

Tiny needles prickle the flat of my hand as I smack the door, wanting to reach through and pull her to safety. To wrap my arms around her and protect my girl from whatever is happening.

Silence answers me, not even a sound of her struggle, sending me into a deeper panic. The dread swirling in my gut intensifies, growing into a living, gnawing thing. I can’t shake the image of Mr. Lexington attempting to distract us from following her.

Is this why? He knew she’d be attacked?

An innocent, hopeful part of myself tries to convince me that it’s not Raina on the other side of this thin barrier, but I know better. I sense her soul fading. Lifting from her body and preparing to depart this world.

Ignoring my protesting shoulder, I throw myself at the door again. This time, there’s a splintering sound, and the lock shudders under my weight. A surge of triumph flows through me even as I stumble forward, nearly falling to my knees as the barrier gives way.

My breath hitches as I take in the sight before me; Raina, her petite frame pinned against the floor by an unfamiliar man who’s too large for her to fight off.

Agony shreds through me like glass exploding inside my chest. The scene before me is nothing short of a nightmare from the deepest pits of hell.

Raina. My Raina, her costume torn and disheveled, lifeless beneath the weight of a man who clearly has no concept of human decency. His hands squeeze around her neck, and she’s not moving. Not even a breath.

“Get away from her!” The words burst from me like a roar.

Fear tugs at the edges of my consciousness but it’s quickly smothered underneath a blazing wave of rage.

I leap forward, lunging towards her assailant who looks up to meet my gaze, his eyes cold and emotionless.

My fist collides with his face, knocking him backward and away from Raina.

He scrabbles to get up, a snarl twisting his features into a grotesque mask of violence.

“I suppose I’m getting paid enough to turn this into a two for one,” he hisses. The man reaches down to his leg, drawing out a dark and twisted blade that seems almost alive. The edges are jagged and sharp, glinting in the light like a thousand teeth.

It’s a blade meant to strike terror into anyone who faces the wrong side of it.

Which is me.

I’m on the wrong side of his blade…

And I’m man enough to admit I don’t have the skills to defend myself against it.

What I do have is adrenaline. Grit. Fury.

“Security,” I shout at the top of my lungs. I also have backup on the way. At least I hope I do…

My hands curl into tight fists at my sides, and the man grins, taking it as a challenge. The knife twirls in his hand with practiced ease, showing he’s ready to use it. It only fuels my determination. I’ll do anything to protect Raina.

My eyes flicker to her; her eyes are closed, face ashen, chest unmoving. She needs help—now. Not after I’ve dueled with this psycho.

As if sent from the heavens above, the sound of an angel rings from behind me. “Darius.” Keaton’s voice cuts through the tension. He’s panting, as if he ran here from the other side of the planet.

The cold eyes of the man in front of me dart to Keaton, back to me, then to Raina, weighing his options.

His hand dips into his pocket, revealing a small button.

With a press, a pop sounds from the outside of the exterior door, and he slowly walks backward until he’s escaping.

As much as I hate the idea of him getting away, I know Raina needs my help more.

Keaton runs to us, his concern mirroring my own. “You got her?” he asks, his voice gruff with emotion.

“Yeah, man. Get that fucker.” My knees hit the ground next to Raina as he pushes the doors open with both hands, the bang of impact barely registering as I lean my head to rest on Raina’s mouth, straining to hear any sounds of her breathing.

My gut flips as I’m faced with silence. Despair pools in my stomach, and a silent sob wracks my body as I lift her limp form into my arms. Her blonde locks, once vibrant and full of life, hang limp and matted against her pale skin. Her face, ghostly white, is disturbingly still.

“Dammit, Raina, not now,” I whisper fiercely against the hollow silence, sending up an unspoken prayer into the charged atmosphere. I press two fingers to her neck, desperation mounting as I wait to feel her pulse.

Nothing.

Not even a faint flutter.

For a split second, my mind goes blank, my heart stopping alongside hers, not wanting to beat in a world where hers no longer pounds.

Then I jump into action, gently laying her out on the floor again.

I remember some rudimentary CPR from secondary school, snippets of information filtering back through my panic-stricken mind.

Keaton’s deep voice echoes from the halls beyond—him shouting for help from security—but all I can focus on is Raina’s pale face.

Anger swells from deep within me as I start chest compressions. One… Two… Three… the counting monotone in my mind grounding me to the task at hand. With every push of my hands against her chest, fury flows through me like electrical currents.

Mr. Lexington planned this. I know he did.

A famous performer is never as valuable to a label as when they’re dead…