Lucky Girl (New Adult Rock Star Romance) (16 page)

“Are you okay?” Pixie asked.

“Someone being murdered in here?” Chelsea. “Who was that?”

“Sara,” Bear told her.

“Bad dream,” I whispered, swallowing hard as more people appeared. Chelsea and Bear, frowning and looking in at me. Rick, his hair wet, appearing on the other side. Then Terry with his morning cigarette, blowing smoke out the side of his mouth. The gang was all there. Except Dale—and he was the one I wanted.

“Just a bad dream.” My voice was stronger now. The dream was fading. “Sorry guys.”

That was our excitement for the morning.

I went to take a s
hower. I’d seen the inside of Dark Wing’s tour bus and it was far more luxurious than ours—but for a bus, I couldn’t complain. Our shower door was glass and there was a massaging showerhead. I washed my hair, massaging my scalp like I could scrub the dream out of my head. It mostly worked. By the time I was out, dried off and dressed, most of the dream had dissipated, leaving only a lingering feeling of dread.

The crew meeting assembled outside. The busses parked together, configuring a large square in the middle, leaving only a narrow space in or out—Bear had to squeeze—guarded by security. Sure, a fan could slip underneath one of the busses, but we were in a segregated parking lot on venue property. They’d have a hard time finding us in the first place.
They stayed that way until we had to leave and we could go hang in the square—we called it the square—whenever we felt like some down time outside without any danger of being swarmed by a mass of fans. It was quite ingenious really, the busses all snuggled up like that. It gave us all a sense or feeling of safety, and I think Chelsea knew it.

She was one smart cookie.

Dale squeezed in just as the meeting was starting. We made a big circle, either standing or sitting, while Chelsea went over the day’s schedule and plan. Dark Wing didn’t have to attend morning meetings. Technically, the opening band didn’t either, but we spent so much more time with the crew, we kind of felt like one big family, so we went.

I spotted Dale sneaking around the circle, making his way toward me. He wrapped his arms around me from behind. I could smell him, that musky scent of sweat, and it reminded me of the night before. His shirt was damp a
nd I could hear Nirvana still playing over his headphones. They were down around his neck.

“Some day we’re going to be in the big bus,” he whispered. “We’ll have our own private jet. We won’t have to listen to Bear getting laid.”

I giggled at that, then sobered quickly when Chelsea glanced my way.

“We won’t have to attend meetings.”

I shrugged, whispering back, “I kind of like the meetings.”

“Weirdo.” He pulled my hair aside, nuzzling the back of my neck. “I heard you had a bad dream.”

I stiffened. News traveled fast!

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t want to tell me?”

I shook my head, shushing him.

“Why don’t you tell all of us?” Chelsea snapped. I loved Chelsea, but when she got mad, she took you down. There was no warning and no wiggle room.

“I’m good.” I flushed, elbowing Dale in the gut, hearing him go “oof!” I waved at her. “Go on, go on.”

“Thank you.” She eyed me for a minute then shook her head, looking back at her notes.

Dale was laughing. I couldn’t hear but I could feel it. I went to elbow him again and he grabbed my arm. I tried to jerk it away but he had too good of a hold. And before I knew it, he’d leaned in and hefted me over his shoulders.

“Dale!” I hissed, still being quiet, like the whole damned crew—not to mention the band—wasn’t watching and cracking up.

“Going somewhere?” Chelsea had reading glasses on and they made her look older. She pulled them down to look over at
them at Dale carrying me around the outside of the circle.

“I’m going to take her back to the bus and fuck her brains out. Okay with you?”

Oh he was going to get it. I beat on his back with my fists but he acted like it was nothing. The entire crew was laughing and they started making remarks, giving Dale advice on how to get the job done right.

“Whatever floats your boat.” Chelsea shook her head, but she was smiling as she went back to her notes. Dale carried me through the narrow way—barely squeezing through.

“I am going to kill you when you put me down,” I informed him through clenched teeth as he headed toward our bus.

“Guess I better never
put you down then,” he made an about-face, heading the other way.

“No!” I cried. “Where are you going?”

“I thought you were going to kill me.”

“I am.”

“Well, I guess I better keep moving.” He started forward and I howled. He stopped again and asked, “What?”

“The bus.” The words were barely audible.

“What’d you say?”

“The bus! The bus! Okay, let’s go back to the bus!”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“No.”

“What are you going to do to me?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Two could play this game. “I’m going to tie you up.”

He snorted. “Good luck.”

“And then I’m going to
unzip your jeans.”

“I’m liking it.”

“And take out your cock.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And run my tongue allll around the head.”

“Mm. Getting hard to walk here.”

“Good.”

“It’s not good if I fall and take you with me.”
He laughed.

“That just means I get your cock in my mouth sooner.”

He groaned. “I should have gone the short way.”

He was at a light jog now.

“It makes me wet just thinking about your cock in my mouth.”

And that’s why I was giving Dale a blowjob when Chelsea was telling the crowd she had the night off. If she’d been there, I don’t think what happened would have happened at all. But I was oblivious, and Dale, who made sure, unbeknownst to me, that Chelsea knew everything—
everything
—about us she needed to in order to keep us, and especially me, safe, was reaching climax just around the time the meeting broke up.

So neither of us knew Chelsea had the night off, which under normal circumstances wouldn’t have been a big deal. But we were in New York, near home, near family and friends, people who knew us, some who loved us—and some who hated us. I think we both thought we were safe.
We had layers and layers of safety nets in place. Chelsea was just one of them—but she was the most important, I think. When she was gone, it created a huge hole.

But we didn’t know.

We spent the day like any other day on tour. Tomorrow we would go back to New Jersey and visit. I’d talked to John and Aimee the day before to make plans. I was excited for the New York show—“home town” shows were always the best. And I would be there, front and center. Until then we waited. Our morning sexcapade started at the front of the bus, christening the dining table and our sitting area before ending up in the bathroom. But even that only shaved an hour off our waiting time. We took a nap. We listened to music. We watched Bear and Pixie play a mean game of chess. And we waited.

We went on like it was any other day because we thought we were safe. We’d built walls around us, a fortress. We were untouchable.
Like the illusion of the busses making the square, we were in a place we could gather and let our guard down.

We let our guard down, trusting the circle to hold, and we didn’t know it until it was too late. Someone had been waiting for us to come home.

      CHAPTER FOURTEEN     

It was two hours before the first New York show when Greg Richer called to tell us the news .We were backstage, waiting, as usual. I was sitting on one of the sofas reading a well-worn copy of
Pride and Prejudice
I found on a shelf marked “Free Library.” It was a meager collection, ten or twelve classics, a few self-help books and two copies of
Moonwalk,
Michael Jackson’s autobiography, which had received a lot of press the year before. Now they were apparently giving away copies.

Dale had his head in
my lap and he was playing Tetris on his new Gameboy. All the band members got one as soon as they came out, a nice perk, a gift from one of the venues. I think it was in Georgia—or maybe Virginia. The boys loved them and played them constantly. I tried a few times but they made my eyes feel buggy and gave me a headache.

Chelsea came into the room, waving her mobile phone over her head. If it didn’t have an antennae attached, I would swear she looked like she was going to throw a brick at someone’s head when she did that.
It would be one more hour before Chelsea left for her much deserved two days off, but no one mentioned it. I had no idea, and Dale later said

“Go
t Greg on the phone, guys! He’s on speaker!” She hit a button on the phone and then said, “Go ahead, Greg. I’ve got them all rounded up for you.”

We were all there. Bear and Pixie were in the corner playing chess. Rick was on the other sofa, a ball cap pulled low on his head, napping. Terry was methodically removing the tabs off all of the empty soda cans and stacking them in a pyramid on the counter.

“Hey Black Diamond!” Greg called.

“Hi Greg,” we chorused, almost in sync.

“Got great news for you boys.
I Will Always Come For You
went double platinum this week.”

Dale sat bolt upright, staring the phone like it was an alien. Terry was
so surprised he knocked over his entire soda can pyramid and they clanked to the tile floor, scattering everywhere. Rick sat up, gaping in Chelsea’s direction, cap in hand. Only Bear didn’t react. He was concentrating on the chess board.

“There’s more!” Greg sounded positively gleeful. Maybe he was in the market for a new Porsche and was wondering if he could buy it with his twenty percent. “Your album,
Black Diamond
, has gone platinum.”

The boys were on their feet, whooping and hollering. Dale jumped up onto the coffee table and did a dive onto the other couch, flopping on it like a fish. Terry and Rick high-fived and danced around in the midst of the empty soda cans, making a huge racket.

“How many is that?” I asked—yelled, really. I couldn’t hear over the noise.

Chelsea came closer, grinning. “Ask him again.”

“How many is that?
” I yelled into the receiver.

“Platinum is a million!” Greg’s voice crackled through the speaker. “Double platinum is two million.”

It was a good thing I was still sitting down. I think I would have fallen down if I hadn’t been. Dale jumped from his sofa to my sofa and then pounced on me like a cat. I laughed and he kissed me all over my face and then, just for good measure, licked me too, right up the side of my cheek.

“Ewww!” I wiped my cheek with the end of my t-shirt—I always wore
Black Diamond
t-shirts on concert days, and it was a double bonus, because I was also advertising my own art work at the same time.

“Shamu kiss!” Dale called, doing it again, this time on the
other
cheek.

Chelsea was laughing, sandwiched between Terry and Rick jumping up and down and trying to kiss her, holding out the phone.

“Dale!” she called. “He wants to talk to you!”

Dale grabbed the phone, turning it off speaker and flopping down on the other couch, on his back.

“Hey Greg, my main man, my favorite man in the whole damned world, whattya say?”

I smiled, turning around to look
at Bear and Pixie, still involved in their chess game.

“Hey, didn’t you hear?” I called over.

“I heard.” Bear moved his knight, glancing up at me. “Awesome.”

I laughed, shaking my head. Dale always said, “Drummers are weird.”

“We need beer!” Terry told Chelsea. “Lots of it.”

“And champagne!” called Pixie.

“Your wish is my command!” Chelsea laughed, going over to the couch and holding out her hand. “My phone, rock star, I need my phone.”

Dale sat up, handing it over. His mood had shifted completely but no one else noticed except me.

“What is it?” I went over to him on the couch.

“Tell you later.” He shook his head, watching the rest of the band laughing, celebrating. Bear had finally come over to join in, having captured Pixie’s queen.
Something was wrong—Dale smiled and joined them. He even popped the top on the champagne and proceeded to pour the foam all over Bear’s head—which, of course, necessitated a wardrobe change for my most difficult to dress band member! Dale looked fine on the surface—but I just knew something wasn’t right.

I tried to get him alone before the show, but it was impossible. Word spread like wildfire a
nd all five of the members of Dark Wing came over to congratulate us and talk about their first album—back in 1972—to earn platinum status. By the time all the hugs and congratulations were over, it was time for the opening act to go onstage. I kissed Dale for luck—he grabbed me and hugged me close at the last minute.

“Are you okay?” I asked, searching his eyes. He smiled and nodded but I knew better.

I didn’t want to miss any of their act, but I wanted to find Chelsea and ask if we could arrange some sort of celebration for after the show on short notice. Dale was upset about something Greg had said—but whatever it was couldn’t possibly kill the joy of hitting platinum—and double platinum!

I saw one of the crew—I couldn’t remember his name although I was racking my brain—and stopped to ask if he’d seen Chelsea, but he gave me a message first.

“Hey, Carl was looking for you.”

I frowned. Carl was Chelsea’s second in command.

“Do you know where he went?” I asked.

“Supply room.” He pointed to a door across the hall.

I went over and knocked gently, waiting for an answer. I didn’t get one, so I cautiously opened the door. There were shelves inside loaded with all sorts of paper products from cups and plates to toilet paper for the bathrooms.

“Carl?” I called.

He came around the corner so fast he scared me. He didn’t see me at first. He was mumbling to himself.

“Out of—” He stopped at the door and looked at me, blinking. “Sara! I have a message for you.”

“You do?”

He dug into his jeans pocket, bringing out a piece of paper.

“Here.” He slid by me and started heading down the hall.

I looked at the slip of paper. It was
from a pink message pad with a space for
To
and
From,
Time, Date
and all that, but someone had ignored the boxes and had written,
“Sara—your dad is waiting for you in the square.”

Ben.

He was the only one I hadn’t called. But of course he knew we were in town. I remembered the way Chelsea had looked at me every time I told her to refuse a phone call from him. Had she given the note to Carl? I wasn’t sure, but I thought it might be her handwriting. I looked up to ask, but Carl was long gone.

I knew Chelsea wouldn’t let anyone into the square that she didn’t know. She’d been briefed—Dale had made it very clear who we would and would not see. Of course, Ben was on that list. But she’d decided, because she didn’t like my choice to ignore him, to let him in? When I found her, I was going to kill her.

Damnit. I heard Black Diamond going into their second song—
Bonnie and Clyde
—I could just pretend I hadn’t gotten the message. But I had a feeling, if I didn’t meet him, he’d coming looking for me anyway. And I didn’t want to make a big scene in front of everyone, especially not tonight. I’d go meet him privately, listen to what he had to say, and escort him out to security before Dale ever even knew he was here.

I started down the hallway, headed toward the back of the stadium. The tour busses were parked way in back. The halls were a maze. I kept an eye out for Chelsea but I only saw crew members—identified by the crew silkscreened across the back of their shirts.
I got turned around three times and had to ask the crew which way toward the back door. There was more than one, of course, in an amphitheater this big, but I just needed one of them.

I felt like Alice lost in the Queen of Hearts’ hedges. I was finally ready to give up—Black Diamond was likely done with their set by now!—when I turned the corner and found the door. Actually, I found the loading area where big trucks made their deliveries. Those doors were huge, like giant garage doors, and it just reinforced the Alice theme running in my head. Had I shrunk? But no, there was a nice human-sized door on my left and I pushed it open, triumphant.

Spending all day inside made my eyes reluctant to adjust to outside light. It was dusk, a rosy hue on the horizon over the trees. The parking lot was half-filled with cars. This was where the amphitheater staff parked—the ticket takers and concession workers and janitors. Our tour busses were at the very back. I had to walk all away across the lot.

It gave me time to think of what to say. I found myself walking slower and slower as I neared the parked busses. The sun was really almost gone now and I hadn’t brought a flashlight. Well, I’d just take Ben onto the bus and we would talk there. The keys were in the visor—no one could get back here to steal them, and if they did, how in the world could they get out with one?

I ran my hand along the side of our bus as I came  up to the passageway into the square on my left. I made the turn, taking the narrow way through, remembering with a smile how Dale had carried me out and had his way with me. And vice versa.
Platinum.
Double
platinum!
I was still so excited I could hardly contain it. I couldn’t wait until after the show so we could really celebrate.

Maybe I would even let Ben stay. Time had softened my heart a little. Not much, but a little bit. I had so many questions, but I was afraid of the answers. And worse—I was afraid of the lies. Could I trust anything he said? I was doubtful.

I blinked in the low light, looking for someone, anyone. The bus lights were dark. There was no one here, of course. The band was on stage and the crew was too.

“Sara.”

I froze. The voice came from my left and I knew it instantly. I turned and ran. If I hadn’t put my hair up that morning—I was too tired and it was too late in the day to fix it up by the time Dale and I were done in the shower—if I hadn’t had a nice, neat little handle on the back of my goddamned head, I would have been free.

“Where do you think you’re going, little girl?”

I screamed. The stepbeast had me by my hair, pulling me back,
dragging
me back, because I was clinging to the front of the bus, looking for hand holds. I had my fingers hooked into one of the recesses for the lights for a moment before he yanked me free and I stumbled back into the square.