Chapter 18
Paul “Rock Giant” Reed
In hindsight, the confrontation was inevitable. Now, Paul would have done the accosting in a far less public place, such as the nice section of scrubby bushes to the left of the khazis, thus avoiding unnecessary witnesses. Then again, he wasn’t a weedy shrimp with more attitude than brain cells.
Curtis Nash chose a well-lit backstage area with plenty of witnesses, probably because there was safety in a crowd.
Or maybe booze had just loosened his vocal cords.
Or not. Because while he strode up like he was on a mission, it seemed to occur to him that Paul could snap him like a twig once they were approximately face-to-face, for what came out of his mouth once he was staring up at Paul was far less abrasive than it might have been.
It didn’t start with fucker and end with wanker, and there might even have been a please involved.
Hence, “You need to stay the fuck away from my fiancée.” Not: keep your hands off her or I’ll chop them off with a blunt cleaver and then violate you with your own right hand.
Definitely the line he’d have taken if their situations were reversed. If it wasn’t that for some unfathomable reason, his missus insistently maintained she was in love with this cockwomble and his singular mission in life was her pleasure, then he’d be taking that line now.
“Na, don’t think so, mate. I made vows to her, I ain’t going against them because it’s putting your nose out of joint that I’m willing to make her happy.”
“I make her happy, you arsehole.”
“That so. Must be why she was so eager to tie the knot with me instead. She knows I keep my promises.”
“You got her fucking high and took advantage.”
“Why don’t you say that a bit louder so security can hear you?” Spook muttered from beside him. Paul hadn’t noticed that half his band had fallen in behind him. Not that he needed backup.
Nash gave a hard sniff and straightened his spine. It still barely brought him to Paul’s shoulders. “This has nothing to do with whatever sick shit you offered her. She was in a suggestive state and you—”
“Promised to honour and protect her, love her until the heat death of the universe and beyond and to be by her side come what way. Not sure how that’s taking advantage.”
The guy’s eyes bulged, and a nervous tick started firing under his skin, right in the centre of his forehead.
“If I’d been there to take advantage, I wouldn’t have stopped after knotting a ribbon around her wrist, would I?”
“He’d have gone for the full-on knotting,” Cave Troll, who’d appeared out of the scaffolding of the stage, remarked.
That wasn’t quite what he’d been about to say, but it got the sentiment across.
It was hard not to grin, both at the look of horror on shit creek’s face, and the mental pictures Troels’ remark was creating in his imagination.
He wouldn’t mind being stuck inside Jodi’s gorgeous pussy for an indeterminate length of time.
Damned if he wasn’t turned on by the notion of it.
He was sad they hadn’t consummated their bond with some rabid fucking.
Was sad too that his tongue wasn’t strained from licking, and was hence working well enough to talk to this gobshite.
“You think you’re clever. That this is all a joke. It’s not fucking funny. We’re engaged. We’re getting married. She’s mine. Have some fucking decency and stay the hell away from her, or are you that much of a prick you get off on destroying relationships?”
“Pretty sure you set that mantrap yourself. Maybe try not standing her up. I mean, if you’d showed, I wouldn’t have had to step in, would I? At least now she knows she has options and doesn’t have to settle for someone who clearly never puts her first.”
“Of course I put her—”
Rock Giant laughed loud enough to drown him out. “Where were you? What were you doing that was so fucking important that it clean escaped your mind that you were meant to be exchanging vows with the woman you’re allegedly in love with? Huh? No answer? Anyone around here know?”
“On-bus entertainment,” one of the now significant number of observers muttered.
Paul lost significantly more respect for the guy, because that wasn’t anything like a good enough reason to abandon the woman you love at the altar.
Now, maybe dickbrain wasn’t bright enough to realise that’s what he’d done, but Paul knew, and a significant number of their current observers could work it out given the details, and most important of all, Jodi knew, and even though she was apparently deeply forgiving, he hoped she’d filed the slight under events to refer back to when deciding if she actually wanted to spend her life with this fool.
Evidently, even Nash realised he didn’t have a decent argument, because he bleated, “Just fucking stay away from her,” and turned tail and beat it. No doubt he was currently reworking the exchange in his head so that his bravado stood up to scrutiny, and Paul was thoroughly put in his place.
“What a complete carrot,” Spook muttered, giving the phrase a particularly British bite that he’d definitely learned from Ash or Xane.
He raised his middle finger at Curtis Nash’s retreating back.
Beside Spook, Xane quirked an eyebrow, his lips puckering into a smirk.
Paul had expected a reaction, just not that Spook would be the one to voice it.
“What do you want to do?” Xane asked Paul.
Their vocalist’s gaze kept sweeping the crowd, on the lookout for further trouble no doubt. Not from the knobwaffle, so much as other quarters—Elspeth. “It’s your call. We’re behind you, whatever you decide.”
That was a change from earlier. Then again, earlier they hadn’t had to endure a public confrontation with a halfwit. “About?” he asked, mostly to make sure they were in fact talking about what he thought they were talking about and not something else entirely.
Ash bent over his splayed knees to reach the water bottle between his feet. “Whether you want to continue touring with gobshite or not. What the fuck does she see in him? He’s like the antithesis of you.”
Paul wasn’t sure he had an answer to that.
Happened he was on team Spook when it came to opinions on Curtis Nash.
On the other hand, he didn’t want to toast the rest of the Ghost Boys’s dreams because they happened to be saddled with a prick of a lead singer.
Where were the rest of them? Seemed significant that they weren’t in tow, backing up their friend.
But mostly, ditching their only-just announced support act at zero notice was going to create ructions.
Major ructions. None of them needed another legal wrangle. Or worse, a media circus.
“I can stomach him if the rest of you can.”
Also, if they ditched the Ghost Boys, that would mean losing his missus from the tour right along with them. So, no, best option available was to tolerate dipshit, and hence keep Jodi in his orbit.
Where was she now, while dog-breath was waving his bollocks around?
He doubted she’d be impressed.
He was tempted to text her and find out, until he realised while he’d given her his number, she’d refused to hand him hers.
Xane passed Ash the bottle he was still straining to reach and sat his arse on the sofa Ash was occupying the back of. “I’m thinking we contact Graham and apprise him of the situation, so he’s at least aware of it, and doesn’t wind up blindsided if Harry Storm gets on his case.”
“Think he will?”
“If his reputation is anything to go on, yeah.”
“Text him,” Spook agreed. “Makes sense, just in case anything further kicks off.”
“I’m sorry,” Paul mumbled. “I didn’t mean to create hassle.”
Xane patted him on the back. “If she’s the one, then she’s the one. It’ll work out.”
That didn’t sound much like Xane.
Their lead singer sucked on his lip-piercing, then flashed him a grin. “I’m trying to take a leaf out of Luthor’s book and be more zen about stuff.”
“Do we not need to consult him and Ronnie before we make any decisions?” Ronnie had been accosted by Lyra and dragged off to do a late-night meet and greet.
“They’re going to roll with whatever you want. I can vouch for Luthor, and we all know Ronnie’s your bestie.”
He wasn’t so sure of that anymore.
“Where is Luthor, anyway?” He’d only just realised their drummer wasn’t with them.
Xane made the universal sign for phone call, then rested his head against the bench back and blew out a long breath. “Family shit.”
“Oh?”
Xane shook his head, clearly not wanting to get into the weeds of it.
“Same shit that called Ulf home. I’m not sure of the details, I just know he wasn’t best thrilled with whatever decisions seem to have been made in his absence, but let’s stick with the current issue, eh?
So, to confirm, we’re going ahead as planned? ”
“We are.”
“Fun, fun, fun,” Ash drawled. “Right, we packing up and getting out of here?”
“Now?” Paul asked. He didn’t recall an immediate departure being on the agenda.
“Now,” both Spook and Xane confirmed.
Maybe he oughtn’t to have mentioned Elspeth.