Chapter 5
five
. . .
Lizzy
Lizzy should have been thinking about the set list, what she would say to the crowd at the end of the night, or anything else, but her mind couldn’t stop whirling with thoughts of Dillon.
While she continually paced back and forth across the dressing room floor wringing her hands, her mind kept replaying the reaction she had to Dillon’s touch at the party.
Each time she did, a tingle lit up her core.
She remembered his strong grip on her arm, so close to her breast, and a hot shudder ripped through her.
She touched her upper arm, almost expecting to feel his hand there, or maybe wishing it were.
The way he took hold of her arm with strength and possession, as if he had some claim over her, filled her with an unfamiliar sense of adventure.
She recalled the way he leaned in and whispered the word “fire,” his eyes dripping with sex and his breath, so close she felt it on her lips, hot and misty, and every cell in her body quivered.
She clamped her hands on top of her head and told herself to stop thinking about Dillon that way because no good could come of it.
Not now. Not ever. She wanted less drama in her life, not more.
She wanted a normal, calm relationship in her life for once, not the turbulent, upside down one she had with Dillon.
Her frantic pacing halted directly in front of the full-length mirror, and her reflection mocked her.
The wild look in her eyes, the hot pink hue covering her flushed cheeks, and the heavy breaths that made her chest rise and fall, confessed her true feelings.
“No,” she told the image of herself. “Just, no.”
Determined to move on with her life and leave Blind Fury and the unsettling feelings toward Dillon behind her, she headed to the stage.
The corridor was packed with people and equipment, but her ever-present bodyguards opened a clear path for her directly to the side curtain.
She knew the rest of the band would wait to be called for showtime—no pre-show huddle for this group of misfits—so she took a moment to absorb the chatter and cheers from the crowd.
They were already in an uproar anticipating the start of the show.
She closed her eyes and listened to their call.
Adrenaline made her stand taller, and her fingers automatically plucked an imaginary bass.
The audience started a chant of the band’s name, accompanied by a rhythmic clap, and there wasn’t a more exhilarating sound in the world.
She imagined she was standing right in front of them and got lost in the bliss it created.
“I can’t believe this is how it’s all going to end.”
Dillon’s voice startled Lizzy, and her eyes flipped open. He was standing next to her—way too close.
His muscled forearm brushed hers as he pulled the curtain back to gaze into the audience, and his frown reflected his remorse. “We’ve been through a lot, Lizzy. I’m going to miss you.”
Her stomach flip-flopped.
“I know we had a lot of fights and disagreements in the past,” Dillon said. “But it was all because of the band. Me and you never went at it the way we did with Sid and Zach, and certainly nowhere near the way those two fought.
He was right, but there was so much tension and animosity that overshadowed everything about Blind Fury, it was hard to know who to trust. She wanted to respond, but his close proximity made it hard to breathe, and she needed a moment to swallow her growing unease.
“You’re right. I see that now. You’re the only one who stayed grounded on this hell ride.
If it weren’t for you, I probably would have jumped off a long time ago. ”
His black-as-coal eyes burned into hers with their intensity, and she wondered if he knew she was starting to have feelings for him. She wanted to look away before he saw her emotions, but she was powerless to break the gaze they shared.
His hand went to her cheek and gently traced the perimeter of her face .
Why weren’t her feet moving? Why didn’t she back up or at least smack his hand away?
She squeezed her eyes closed and tried to shut out the dozens of thoughts running through her head.
With Blind Fury’s last show moments away, all of her defenses were weakening, and she began to wonder if maybe she was too hard on Dillon in the past.
She slowly opened her eyes, and when she did, he was moving in to kiss her.
She had just enough time to stop him by bracing her hand against his chest. “Don’t.
” She was aware how unconvincing her refusal sounded, but more aware of the solid muscles of his chest underneath her hand and stared down at it.
“Why don’t you want me to kiss you?”
“Why would I want you to kiss me? I told you. There’s nothing going on between us. I want a clean break from the band. I don’t want to go backwards or stand still. I want to move forward with a new chapter in my life.”
His handsome face drooped with sadness and some of the light went out in his eyes.
He lowered his gaze to her hand, which was still flat against his chest, and covered it with his for a moment before he brought her hand to his lips, placed a gentle kiss in the center of her palm, and then pressed her hand against his heart.
His eyes never left hers and it hypnotized her. Gravity started pulling them together, and she was helpless to stop the inevitable kiss from happening. But the lights went down, and the roar of the crowd shook the stage and shattered the moment like a hammer to glass .
Sid and Zach suddenly brushed past them, in the midst of an argument about something she didn’t care about.
Dillon didn’t move. He stood rooted in front of her with a pained expression on his face as he realized the kiss wasn’t going to happen.
Lizzy wasn’t moving either, and she silently stared back at Dillon. So much was going on in her head right now—the imminent demise of Blind Fury, the new feelings she had for Dillon, and the confusion all of it brought. Her thoughts and emotions were a jumbled mess.
“What are you two doing?” Walter, who was now beside them, scolded. “Get on stage. The show can’t start without you.”
Both Lizzy and Dillon moved in slow motion onto the stage, as if neither wanted to take the 20-foot walk to the beginning of the end. As soon as the crowd saw them, a new round of cheers reverberated off the walls.
Dillon ascended his drum riser, sticks raised in the air.
“It’s about fuckin’ time,” Sid practically spat at Lizzy as she walked past him, but she ignored him and took her spot on stage.
She looked into the crowd, all on their feet with their fists in the air and their mouths open with shouts of excitement.
Along the front railing, behind the line of tight security, Lizzy spotted a banner that spanned almost the full length of the stage.
She approached the apron and called to security to move out of the way so she could read the sign.
It read, “GOODBYE BLIND FURY. WE’LL NEVER FORGET YOU!
” and had their names written in the four corners.
She moved to the center of the stage to view it more clearly.
Whoever was responsible for the banner, whether it be one person or a group, clearly put a great deal of effort into making the sign.
The letters were painted meticulously, as if an artist’s hand had drawn them.
She made an exaggerated movement with her head and re-read the sign, smiling, to make sure the fans knew she was acknowledging the banner, and gave a pair of finger horns to the crowd. “That’s awesome!” she shouted, and a loud roar came from the front row.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Sid barked at her, but without the mic so no one else heard him. “Get back in your spot.”
Sid thought he owned the center of the stage.
If anyone ever stepped up to the apron next to him, he blew a gasket.
But she didn’t care anymore. This was the last show, and it was a night that was going to go down as one of the best shows in history.
She was going to make the most of it. Fuck Sid.
She smiled sarcastically at him, blew him a kiss, and then smacked her ass before returning to her side of the stage.
Dillon clacked his sticks together and the stadium erupted with an explosion of heavy metal music.
Blind Fury launched into their biggest hit, “Hard Body.” Sid belted out the hardcore lyrics to a crowd of 65,000 screaming fans.
Lizzy had to give him credit. He may be an asshole off stage, but he was a hell of a frontman.
The fans loved him, and the girls swooned over him.
Too bad it all went to his head and ruined everything.
She put Sid and his self-destructive attitude out of her mind and concentrated on the low, seductive notes of her bass. Barely acknowledging anything else around her, she let the music feed her soul with fuel and energy until cymbals crashed and snapped her out of her revelry.
Dillon’s shirt was off, and a sheen of perspiration covered his mighty chest. His biceps flexed with each strike to the drums, and his hair flew in all directions as a cone of white light engulfed him.
They were already on their third song, each one bringing them closer to the end of an era.
Lizzy peered into the audience and wondered how many people here tonight had taken this journey with her.
Crowd surfers were carried to the front by the hands of their peers and deposited into the waiting arms of security.
In the center, a mosh pit purposely shoved each other in a circle.
A drumstick flew past her, and she immediately turned toward Dillon. He threw the stick to get her attention while Sid engaged the audience and introduced the next song. She jumped on the drum riser and pulled out her earpiece. “What’s up?”
“This is it. Our last hurrah. Soak it up. We’re never going to see another Blind Fury audience again.”