34. Riot
Riot
We stumble off stage bone weary and fucking pumped.
What a concert. What a night. Every single concert on this tour keeps getting better.
We’re playing new music. And giving new energy to the old stuff.
It’s like I’ve been going through the motions for a long time, and I’ve finally found the mojo I’ve been missing.
But tonight... it’s more than the concert that has me feeling like a god as we ride the cart back to our sequestered area. It’s going to take a while to come down from the absolute high I’m currently riding.
Hours. With Kelsey in my bed. Naked, and under me while I edge the fuck out of her until she’s incoherent and begging for release. I’ll let her come then, only to start building her up all over again.
She won’t be sleeping tonight.
We get into the green room, and Golden tosses us each a Gatorade. Bronx, his hair and shirt dripping, snags a couple of extra bottles. He strides toward the door. “Going to get cleaned up before the party starts.”
We’ve been drinking water all night, but Bronx sweats so much when he’s drumming that he’s going to be playing catch up with his hydration for a while yet.
I twist the lid off my bottle as I scan the room. My high bursts when she isn’t anywhere to be seen.
Kodiak’s brow furrows. “Where’s Kelsey?”
Jasper isn’t here either. I hate to admit it, even to myself, but it does let me breathe easier. She’s probably doing this to be a pain in my ass because she doesn’t like that I denied her orgasm, not because her foster brother found her.
I take out my phone. There is a pile of messages in the bros before psychos group chat. I need to check in, but not until I’ve called Jasper to make sure he has eyes on the little troublemaker.
“You got her?” I ask when he picks up.
“Of course.”
“Bring her back to the green room.” I take a sip from the lemon-lime electrolyte drink.
“I could take her to the bus instead,” he says.
“It’s not negotiable,” I tell him. “Bring her back now.”
“Tell him to go fuck himself,” her voice comes in loud and clear, like she’s grabbed his phone and yelled into it. “Or... actually, why don’t you go lay on a freeway?”
“Want to repeat that?” I grind out.
“I said...” She hiccups and then continues on with a sugary sweet voice. “You should go lay on a freeway. Maybe you could get run over by a tour bus, you fucking ass wipe.”
I chuckle darkly. “Have you been drinking, Little Vandal?”
“It’s the only way I can deal with you,” she retorts.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to keep her away from your fans?” Jasper asks. “She’s not in good shape.”
No, I want her right next to me. Damn it.
I take a calming breath.
“Yeah, you better put her on the bus.” She’s only going to make a scene up here and that won’t help keep her whereabouts from leaking. The last thing she needs is Marco finding her. “Put her in my bed and lock her in.”
“Hell no, I won’t fucking be in your bed. Never again. This pussy isn’t yours. Go back to your trash pussy. I bet that feral raccoon pussy is dying for more of your shrivelled, used up, STD dick.”
“What are you on about?” I grind between my teeth. “Actually, fuck it. I don’t care. Jasper, take her to the bus. I’ll meet you there when we’re done here.”
I hang up. The urge to fuck off and meet them at the bus so I can nip whatever the hell that was in the bud is thwarted by a group of backstage pass holders. Dealing with her will have to wait. It’s not like it can get worse.
I chat and hang out with our super fans for a good thirty minutes, working my way around the room. How long until I can leave?
I approach a new group of twenty-something girly pops.
“Is it true?” The one wearing a pink dress with black boots and a black corset over top asks.
“Is what true?”
She takes out her phone and loads up a video. She puts it an inch away from my face.
I can see the couple making out on the screen. Sonatina and me.
Her expression is hopeful. “Is it true your back together?”
This must be what Kelsey is upset about.
“So, you and Sonatina?” One of the others asks. They’re really itching for the gossip.
“We’ll see,” I say, playing the role though the answer I want to give is abso-fucking-lutely not. Not in this century. This universe. Any relationship they’ve imagined we’ve had has been smoke and mirrors. Whatever it takes to keep L.A. Riot at the top.
They gush.
“Can you sign my arm?” One of them holds out her forearm.
“Sure.” I uncap the marker and autograph her skin above a bracelet full of girly music themed charms.
“I’m going to get it tattooed on.” She bounces up and down as she shows the others.
“Sorry to bail, ladies. But I have someone waiting for me.” I smirk and wink and let them assume whatever they want to. Bronx, Kodiak, and Golden can put in the time with the rest of our pass holders tonight.
Golden nods when I use our hand signal for ‘I am out of here’, then goes back to talking to a couple of guys about the music.
One of our security team is waiting for me outside. He falls in behind me.
I’m not in for small talk, instead focusing on the weight of the Zippo in my pocket. The way the metal lid opens and clicks shut. Open and clicks shut. Opens and...
I should check my phone to see if West has been in touch with his friend. The device is on silent, so I missed the phone call and subsequent message that’s come through tagged Torment.
Torment?
I pull down the notification.
Target located in L.A. Will advise if there’s any movement. Need anything else reply to this message and I will be in touch.
Torment is Micah. And Marco is still in California.
We step into the elevator. All our stuff was moved back to the buses this afternoon. We’ll be on the road in a couple of hours.
Next stop Tacoma.
That’s nine-hundred-and-thirty-eight miles between Kelsey and Marco DeLuca.
Further would be better, but she’s safe. And we’ll be heading for Vancouver after that.
The elevator doors open, and the bus is in sight. Yes, she’s safe from him, but she’s in trouble with me. “Can you go back up and have Kelsey’s bags brought down when the others are finished?”
“Yes, Sir.” The elevator closes with him inside.
My fingers keep working the Zippo. Click. Click. Click.
I unlock the bus and climb on board.
Jasper stands immediately. “I’ll be outside.”
I jerk my chin as I stalk past him, through bunk alley, to my room. The door doesn’t move when I yank on it. “Locked me out, huh? You know that won’t keep me out.”
There’s no sound on the other side to suggest she’s going to unlock it.
“I’ll break it down,” I warn.
The door stays locked.
“Fine.” I take a step back and kick just below the handle. The door splinters and swings free.
A boot flies at my head, and I barely manage to block it.
It’s followed by its partner, but I’m ready and duck.
She jumps off the bed and grabs my guitar. “Come in this room and I am going to break your guitar over your head.”
I lean against the frame. The image is... amusing. Or it would be if I could trust her not to destroy my shit. I love that damn guitar so much. Still, I forgot how feisty she can be, and how attractive I find it. She always could throw down. “You won’t.”
“Don’t try me,” she warns stretching her neck from side to side and then rolling her shoulders.
“You saw the video, didn’t you?” At least for now I’ll stay put.
“You were all over her.” Without looking she searches around on my desk until her hand encloses around an almost empty bottle of Jack. She throws it at me.
“Christ.” I flinch when it shatters against the panel right behind my shoulder. The aroma of whiskey assaults my senses. “Stop throwing shit.”
“Why? You don’t like it?” Her lips pull back to bare her teeth.
“No. I don’t.” I am going to take it out on her ass when I get my hands on her.
“Then stop fucking with that bitch,” she screams. “What is it about her? Does she have a magic pussy or something?”
“A magic what?” I suppress a chuckle.
“You heard me.” Her chest is heaving. Her mouth is set in a stubborn line.
“Let me set you straight on a couple of things.” I stalk toward her.
When she swings the guitar at me, I catch it and snatch it out of her hands. Putting it down safely, I close the gap between us.
“There is only one magical pussy. One.” For each step she takes away from me, I take a step toward her. Until her butt hits the desk and she sits. “Why the fuck else would I still be so caught up on you? Why would I crave you?”
Her breath hitches as I tug her knees apart and get between them, leaving no space.
“I can’t stop thinking about you. About fucking you.
And why you left. And whose you’ve been since you were mine.
” I’m baring my soul to a woman I can’t trust. Who has every reason not to trust me either.
I’m basically asking for her to hurt me again.
Giving her the weapons to do it. “And whether you still have feelings for me.”
“Only animosity and disgust.” Chin held high, she pretends that I can’t see that she’s forcing her eyes wider. Pretending that she’s holding herself tightly in check.
But she’s failing at it. All those emotions she’s trying to keep under control have her shaking and her eyes growing shiny in a way that tugs at my chest.
Of course, she couldn’t admit that there might be more between us. She’s far too stubborn for that. I huff out a breath. “Then why do you care whether I’m with her or not?”
“I don’t.” She averts her gaze to a spot on the desk beside her.
“Don’t look away from me.” I grab her jaw and lock our gazes. “Look in my eyes and tell me you don’t care.”
She swallows and her voice comes out all wet and quiet. “It doesn’t matter. We’re nothing anymore. It’s not like we can go back to who we were. We’re not them anymore. You’ve hurt me too much.”
God, I wish we were. I would give anything to go back, but we can’t. “You’ve hurt me too.”
“When this tour is over, I’m leaving,” she tells me. “I shouldn’t care that you’re fucking her.”