Chapter 2
Chapter two
Ethan
"You're late, man!" Mal called out when I started walking up. "I have to start getting ready; you're supposed to help protect me!" He said with more sarcasm than anything in his tone.
I rolled my eyes. "Shut the fuck up, Mal. We both know if it comes down to it, you can protect yourself."
Mal and I were both on the football team and wrestled while in high school.
We could take care of ourselves. This was just about his 'identity' bullshit.
That shithead's band had a whole autonomy thing going on. No one knew who they were; everyone used code names, wore masks, and covered all identifying marks. The mystery didn’t stop the fans from going feral for him simply from his voice.
Or maybe it was the mask kink of the population.
Mal huffed. "Come on now, Bugsy," he pouted. “I can, but it's nicer when you do it. I can’t ruin my image.”
My right eye twitched at the old nickname. "I'll leave right now," I grunted. “Don’t fucking call me that.”
"And miss me on stage? I'm hot as fuck up there," Mal grinned, stepping closer. “Oh, come on, E, I’ve been calling you Bugsy since high school.” He laughed.
"I don’t care, and I'm not denying that, but I didn't come here to watch you perform, Malcolm," I warned with my tone.
"Oh, my full name. You mean business," Mal mocked and snorted. "What's her name?" He always could read me like a book. I rarely used his name. It was always Mal. When I did, he knew I didn't want to play his games.
"Blake," I said curtly, walking over, trailing my eyes over his body. I couldn’t stop myself. I was weak. Blake and Mal couldn’t be more different.
Blake was soft and curvy, skin free of any ink or piercings.
The green streak in her hair made her seem edgy, but she wasn’t.
Mal, on the other hand, had shaggy, dishwater blonde hair that covered the tips of his ears, a death moth tattoo on his throat, and deep chocolate brown eyes.
I joked that it was because he was full of shit, but I loved getting lost in them.
He was all lean muscle but thin and a foot shorter than me.
While Blake made my world turn, Mal made it stop.
Mal and I had messed around for years. We'd experimented and definitely liked women, but when it came to men, we only seemed to like each other. I had cut things off when I’d met Blake, but... seeing him again stirred things inside my gut. He was mine too, but in different ways.
This was such a bad idea.
He wasn't mine like Blake was, I didn’t care who he fucked around with.
As long as another man didn't touch him.
The last one that had tried, I had put my knife in, which caused the attempted murder charge.
I spilled blood for both of them already.
No one went after what was mine and got away with it.
They both belonged to me: my Rosebud and my Songbird, and man, did I love making Mal sing for me in the bedroom. I couldn't think about that now. I needed Mal to get ready, and I needed to save myself for Blake.
I needed to focus. “Let's get you changed before someone sees you and your manager makes them sign an NDA and bitches me out.”
“She must be pretty important,” Mal said, turning to walk toward his trailer.
“She’s mine,” I told him, following behind him.
We'd only been together for seconds, yet I knew his game. He wanted all the details to make a move, himself. If he took her from me, then I would be free for him. “I was too, once,” he reminded me, making me sigh. “That was different. We weren’t official. It was just fooling around.” I said coldly.
“You're the one who said that, remember?”
“Ethan...”
“Don't. Let's just get you changed.” I knew why he'd done it. Mal was tricked and let someone get in his head. It didn't hurt any less, but I understood.
“Yeah, okay.” My Songbird went into his trailer, and I stood outside, keeping an eye out.
It was going to be a long night.