Love Rock'ollection: The Brutal Strength Rock Star Trilogy, books 1-3 (69 page)

Oh Brother why’re you always bossing me?

Think you know what’s best for me

Brothers love, brothers fight

Brothers take years to get it right

After switching bass instruments, Dwight returned, gave her an encouraging smile, and they were able to finish the song together.

The next couple of songs went off without a hitch. The band seemed to have finally found its groove. Dwight’s bass was pumping, JR’s staccato beat thrummed on the snares, and Marcus’ voice was smooth and soulful. Avery felt good. She started to relax and enjoy herself. Strutting forward to the front edge of the stage, she lifted her guitar behind her head, the cool silk of her cutaway sleeves fluttering across her bared arms.
Time for a little stage theatrics.
She picked out the complicated riff blindly, a la Stevie Ray.

“A-ver-y.” The crowd started chanting her name in three syllables.

Then, too soon, it was time for her to sing lead. Roadies brought two wooden stools to center stage. Marcus slid a guitar strap over his shoulder and clipped on an acoustic. Avery took a mic and sat down. Sitting across from her, Marcus started picking out the intro to “Mother’s Gift.” Avery bent her head, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began singing:

Ages since I saw your face

My tears fill the empty space

She looked into Marcus’ blue eyes and everything around her receded. She thought about her mom, her dad, and the dream she’d had just that morning. Emotion seeped into every word she sang. When she finished the last verse, Marcus popped off his stool, pushed his guitar over his shoulder, and came up behind her. He wrapped his long arms completely around her body and squeezed her tight. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

“You owned it, Ace,” he whispered, his warm breath in her ear sending chills down her spine despite the intense heat of the spotlight. Then he stepped backward, giving her a moment all alone to accept the appreciation of the crowd.

Through blurry eyes, she squinted into the bright lights, the applause ringing in her ears. Sorrow pierced her heart. She wished her mom could have been here to share this moment.

Marcus took his place beside her, and reached for her hand. He kissed it before lifting it up in the air. “Ladies and Gentlemen, Avery Jones,” he said into his mic. The crowd roared, and they took a bow hand in hand.

Avery swiped away her tears while giving him a tremulous smile.

“Ok, Seattle,” Marcus began. “We’re gonna close with another tune off the new album. It’s called ‘Siren’s Call.’ We hope you like it.” He glanced over his shoulder, giving JR the cue to start.

By the time the band exited the stage after performing “Love Evolution” as their encore, Avery was stoked. She bounded off to the side stage and into Trevor.

He slapped her on the back. “Way to go,” he praised. “I knew you were gonna be a big star the first time I ever saw you.” He pulled her aside. “I have someone who wants to meet you.”

A man with close cropped grey haired in a well cut suit stepped forward. He held out his hand. “Charles Morris, Zenith Productions.” He smiled a warm smile. “That was quite an impressive performance on your part. I’d like you to have my card.”

She studied the business card with the lightning bolt for the Z in Zenith.

“If things don’t work out with Black Cat, I want you to give me a call. That’s my personal number.”

“Thank you, I…” She trailed off as the sound of Marcus’ raised, angry voice scalded her ears.

“I appreciate that you’re sorry, but that was a real serious, amateurish mistake. A dangerous one.” Standing in front of Sam, his arms crossed over his chest, Marcus’ eyes blazed blue fire. “You’d better get your crap together before the next show!”

“Back the hell off!” JR warned, moving to stand protectively in front of Sam.

Avery excused herself from Trevor and Charles and hurried over, sure her help would be needed to defuse the escalating situation.

“Stay out of it, Stepchild!” Marcus shouted, shoving JR in the chest. “I know she’s your girl, but that doesn’t exempt her from the fallout when she screws up.”

JR’s eyes narrowed to icy green slits as he took a menacing step closer to Marcus. “Sam knows she messed up, but you can’t yell at her, man.” He blew out a breath. “We all know the real reason you’re so mad is because we sucked out there tonight.” He shot a quick glance at her. “Except for Avery.”

Everyone was silent for a moment, allowing heightened emotions to settle.

“I’m sorry, Sam.” The tightly coiled muscles in Marcus’ biceps relaxed as he unfolded his arms. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“Apology accepted,” the petite beauty said after a visible swallow. She took a brave step forward. “I’m responsible for stage set up, and I take full responsibility for the incident. I’ll make sure that it never happens again.”

Marcus nodded and turned away.

“Marcus!” Avery called, rushing to catch up with him.

He swiveled around. “Avery.” He ran his long fingers through his dark shoulder length hair. “I need some air. Give me a little fucking space, alright?”

“Sure,” she replied in a hurt whisper.

MARCUS PEELED THE coated paper off a stick of gum. He scanned the packed room at the Encore Club, the designated meet and greet location on the top level of the arena. The glitterati of Seattle decked out in diamonds and designer watches mixed and mingled with the press and band members from Brutal Strength and Tempest. Drink glasses, the unofficial accessory, adorned the hands of the attendees, and he suspected white powder was probably being liberally dispensed and snorted like appetizers in adjoining bathroom stalls.

Avery stood near the bar, a beautiful unblemished red rose. She far outclassed the lanyard laced butt-kissing dandelions that surrounded her. His gaze raked over her form. He frowned, not approving of her post concert attire. The little black dress barely covered her ass. Sure it made her long legs look sexier than hell, but if she bent over…Well, she better not. Unless it was for him, later on, and in private.

Watching all the men ogling her made him clench his jaw so tight that one of his muscles started to twitch. Then she lifted her glass of sparkling water to her full lips.
Holy shit!
Instead of sleeves the dress had long slashes, allowing anyone who was watching a scintillating view of the side of her naked breast. Crossing the room, he silently cursed Samantha, whom he suspected was influencing Avery’s clothing choices more and more.

Avery glanced up when he got near. “Marcus.” Her lips curved up, giving him an intimate smile.

“Avery,” he acknowledged.

“Feeling better, now?” she asked uncertainty in her eyes.

“Gentlemen, you’ll have to excuse us,” he said abruptly, pulling her away from the admiring throng. He drew her by the elbow over to a corner of the room, beside a large Love Evolution tour mural, custom painted, a KeyArena logo strategically placed in the upper corner. “What the hell are you wearing?” he growled.

“A black dress.” She glanced down. Her lips pursed. “What’s wrong with it?” she asked him with a note of teasing in her voice, fingers splayed across her chest. “Everything’s covered up.”

“Not from the sides, it isn’t,” he hissed under his breath. “Do
not
lift your arms any more tonight. I almost had a heart attack a second ago.”

“I like it.” Her chin lifted. “It makes me feel pretty and sexy.”

“Yes it definitely does, but damn it…” He frowned. What was it with her lately? Why was she fighting him so much about what she wore? “I just don’t want anyone else seeing what’s mine.”

“Ok.” She gave a conciliatory smile. “I promise to keep my arms…”

“Avery Jones?” a confident female voice interrupted.

She turned.

“Kimberly Schaffer, Rolling Stone.”

“Nice to meet you.” Her elegant silver cuff bracelet sparkling under the room’s pendant lighting, Avery clasped the hand the lovely brunette offered. She smiled enthusiastically. “I just read your article on Blackberry Smoke and the resurgence of southern rock. It was a brilliant piece.”

“Thanks so much.” The warm smile the reporter wore transformed into a radiant beam.

“For nothing. Right after I read it, I downloaded both their albums. I’m a total fan now.”

“So am I.” Kimberly took her by the elbow and drew her aside without even acknowledging Marcus.

Avery gave him an apologetic glance.

“Do you have time for a couple of quick questions?” Kimberly asked.

“It’s ok, Avery,” Marcus said in response to her questioning look. “I need to speak to Dwight.”

“Alright.” She shifted her attention back to the reporter.

“My sources say you might be leaving Brutal Strength and starting a solo career after this tour. Can you comment on that?”

Marcus hesitated, hoping to catch her response. He knew she had agreed to work on some solo material for Mary, but this was the first time he’d heard that spin on it.

“There’s no truth to that,” Avery replied. “Brutal Strength’s where I belong.”

Good answer,
Marcus thought.

“After
your
performance tonight, no one would fault you if you went out on your own. You made the show.”

Marcus hands were tightly fisted by the time he reached Dwight. The
Rolling Stone
chick was right, he grimly acknowledged. Avery’s performance had been flawless. She’d been the only one who’d had her shit together. And if she decided to pursue this solo thing on the side, he would give her his full support, as long as it didn’t adversely affect the band.

“Stop frowning, little brother,” Dwight said through a tight smile. “The vultures are watching. They’ll be saying that you’re jealous of your fiancée’s success.”

“That’s bullshit. I
am
happy for her,” Marcus replied through clenched teeth. “But I’m pissed as hell at the rest of us. We sucked.”

“I agree. Not our best outing for sure, but…” Dwight trailed off, tilting his head as he studied Marcus. His blue eyes narrowed and his tone flattened. “Dammit. You’ve been drinking.”

“Just a couple of beers,” he hedged. And several shots of Crown Royal, but he didn’t mention that.

“Dammit, Marcus!” Dwight grabbed his arm, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Not cool, man.”

“Give me a break, bro. It’s just alcohol. You act like I’m using again,” Marcus said, shrugging out of his grip.

“You shouldn’t even touch the stuff. Not with your history.”

“Marcus. Dwight,” Trevor acknowledged as he walked up. “I’d like you to meet Dan Reed from the Seattle Times and Brenda Davis from KOMO News.”

Pasting a neutral expression on his face, Marcus took a turn after Dwight shaking hands with the local VIP’s.

“Had a little trip up on stage tonight?” Dan needled with raised bushy grey brows.

“It happens.” Marcus frowned. “We could’ve been a little tighter.”

“Yeah, but your opening band was smoking,” Brenda cooed. “Local boys, too.” She looked to Trevor. “Could we get an introduction?”

“Sure.” Trevor met Marcus’ irritated gaze over the blonde’s head. He shrugged before steering the two reporters over to where the Tempest guys had gathered.

“Eff it. I don’t even know why I bothered to come,” Marcus grumbled. Catching Avery’s attention, he jerked a thumb at the door.

She nodded and put a hand on Kimberly’s arm, obviously making her apologies.

“Don’t take this kinda stuff personally, Marcus,” Dwight admonished, tapping a reaffirming hand on Marcus’ shoulder. “It’s not worth getting shit faced over, for sure.”

“It told you it was just a couple of beers. Get off my case,” Marcus dismissed, heading to where Avery awaited near the exit.

“Avery,” Sam called out, stopping them.

“What now?” Marcus rolled his eyes.

“Y’all leaving?”

“Yeah.” Avery gave him a quick glance. “Marcus is ready to go.”

“I thought you were going dancing with us?”

“I’m sorry.” Avery let out a wistful sigh. “I can’t.”

“Go ahead,” Marcus said gruffly. “But I’m staying in. I’m not in the mood.”

“No.” Avery shook her head. “That’s alright. I’ll stay with you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” he snapped. “I managed to take care of myself just fine before you came along.”

Avery took a step back, eyes glistening.

“C’mon girl,” Sam encouraged. “Let’s go.”

Marcus softened his tone. “Take Ray with you.”