Beyond the Stix (Warrior Black #2)

Chapter 18

EIGHTEEN

Connor

The image of John climbing into that red car with that fucking guy still has me riled up. I should not care one way or the other, but the moment that vehicle took off, my heart dropped into my stomach and I wanted to call John and have him come back. Then I remembered that I’m still pissed at him.

I retreated to the back room, and stayed there for the rest of the ride, until Pen announced that we were five minutes away from our destination. It’s time to pull myself together.

We arrive in Black Rock just past ten-forty p.m, right after the last of the Thursday night lineup of bands finished on stage. Even on the bus, I can feel the energy of the fans that are filing out of the inner grounds where the stages are located.

As soon as the bus parks in our allotted spot, I leave to get some fresh air. What I’m not expecting is for the night to be so chilly. But I welcome it with open arms. I’d rather deal with the cold than see the worried glances of my friends, or feel the animosity coming off the security team.

I need space to think. Space from the band—from everyone on that damn bus. I turned off all notifications on my phone, since Jessup isn’t letting up on his text messages. I’m too damn tired and aggravated over everything that has happened on this trip.

Why couldn’t John just ask me for my phone… But he did, and you said no.

“Don’t go far,” Pen calls out in an abrupt tone. Him being my new bodyguard feels wrong, but I don’t respond other than to give him a thumbs up.

Pushing past the warring pain in my heart and the contradictory thoughts in my head, I focus on my feet and the chasm that’s forming between me and the bus.

As far as I can see in the dark, there are hundreds—maybe thousands of campers sitting on the perimeter of the event venue. The bands have the choice spots in the innermost circles, next to the food, medical, and merchandise tents that line the border of the large encampment.

Right now, all is quiet, but tomorrow when the bands hit the stage again, their music filtering through the desert venue, it’s going to be crazy-town in here. That’s when my blood will hum with excitement, ‘til then, I have to keep it together.

After shoving earbuds in my ears, I hit a playlist on my phone, and keep walking. The music is like a drug, coursing through my veins, making me forget the reality of the world. Behind the drums tomorrow, I’ll fly high. My focus will be only on the beats, and what my sticks produce, and nothing else.

As I round the empty food tent, which is a good distance away from where the bus is parked, I see a flash of something out of my peripheral. I stop, pull the buds out of my ears and look around. Seeing nothing but empty tents, and distant lights from campers, I keep walking.

This time, I hear footsteps behind me. I turn my head to look and find myself alone. “It must be the wind.” I shake off a subtle shiver and continue on, but keep the earbuds out of my ears.

Again, a slight shuffle of feet. I quickly spin around, expecting to find Pen following me. But instead, I find a hooded guy tucked in the shadows, standing several feet away, just staring at me.

I can’t see his face, since the hood is pulled down low. If this asshole wants money, he’s shit out of luck. I don’t carry cash with me, and my wallet is back on the bus. If he wants something else, he’s in for a fight. I’m no weak bastard.

“What do you want?” I demand, as I back up and stand under the single portable light tower, hoping to coax him out of the dark.

“Connor.” I freeze, knowing that voice. The second Jessup says my name, my gut clenches. He’s barely skimming the edge of light as he pulls back the hood.

“What are you doing here, Jessup?” My uncle is the last person I expect to see here—especially at this time of night. “How did you… Never mind. Just leave.”

I turn to go, but he pleads, “Please, I had to see you.” Jessup looks around us with caution, before stepping closer to me. And rightly so, since the last time I saw him, John nearly broke his arm.

“For what?”

“Give me five minutes, and I will walk away, and you’ll never see me again.”

“You keep saying that, and here you are again like a bad rash. We already talked. What else is there to say?” I take a tentative step back, still staying in the light.

“Lots,” Jessup says.

“I told you I don’t want to see you anymore. What don’t you understand?”

“What don’t you understand? I miss your friendship, Connor. We had many great adventures, didn’t we? And now that your father…”

I burst out laughing. “The last time we had a great adventure is when I was nine and we went camping, and then I got sick. I’m not that na?ve kid anymore. And don’t bring my dad into this.” I look him dead in the eyes, and—Jesus-fuck, Jessup looks so much like my father. It’s eerie.

“I want you in my life. Since your father’s death, you and your mother are all that I have left. Please, don’t take that away from me,” he chokes out.

If it was any other normal person breaking down right now, and offering up a friendship—that family bond, I wouldn’t hesitate. But with what happened years ago, I will never trust the man. “I can’t talk to you now. Just go before security finds you.”

As soon as I turn my back on Jessup, he has me in a bear hold. His arms wrap tight around my chest, and I’m not able to lift my arms in defense. “You’re mine—you always have been and always will be. You can’t deny me anymore, sweetheart,” he growls into my ear, then he painfully bites my earlobe— Jesus, that hurts!

I twist my head to free my ear, then try to shake him off. “Get the fuck off of me, now,” I shout.

“I’m going to teach you to listen to me.” Rather than releasing me, he roughly grabs my dick, like it’s his right to touch me.

I freeze, shock overriding my will to move—to fight. Then I feel him. His hardness against my ass, as he pivots his hips. The horror of what he said and his action slam home the truth.

He did touch me inappropriately when I was a kid. Flashes of memory fill my mind. When we went camping. Sleepovers at his house. When he used to come over and spend the night at our house.

Bile rises to the back of my throat, and I wrench my head forward, before slamming it backwards, smashing his face with the back of my skull. The pain is instant, and it reverberates down my neck, but I don’t give a fuck. I need to get away from him.

Jessup wails in pain, dropping his arms from me. In that second, I jab my elbow hard into his gut, then round on him. Right as I’m about to throw a punch to his face, out of the dark, a figure barrels forth, knocking Jessup on his ass.

For a second, I think it’s Pen. But on closer inspection, it’s John who’s on the ground, wrestling with my uncle.

“Pen,” I shout as loud as I can, hoping he or one of the guys on the security team hears me.

Several men rush up and form a semi-circle around the two men beating the hell out of each other. The security team isn’t moving, but watching the fight.

Danny races to my side. “What the hell—Hey, is that John?”

“Yes,” I answer with urgency. “We need to stop them before he gets hurt.”

“Why is your pedo-uncle here?” Callum asks ruefully.

“Apparently, they want to brawl at Rocktoberfest,” Bobby slurs slightly.

Rafe slaps Bobby on the back of the head. “You’re drinking?”

“We need to stop this,” Dante screeches. “Tobias.”

Danny’s boyfriend whirls his hand in the air—a signal of some sort to the security team, and Cal and Pen move in. They quickly seize Jessup, putting him in an arm lock, while Tobias and Dom grab hold of John.

“I told you if you ever touch Connor, it’ll be the last thing you’ll do,” John hisses at Jessup.

“Fuck you. He’s my nephew—my flesh and blood. I have every right to touch him,” Jessup retorts like he won the fight. “I love him.”

“He doesn’t need your kind of love,” John barks. The stone-cold glower on John’s rugged face has me shivering. Not from fear, but from want. A want that’s rooted deep down in my soul. But I ignore the emotional need drowning my heart, along with the heated desire pooling at my groin.

John tries to worm out of Tobias and Dom’s hold, but Tobias says something to him that I can’t hear, and John settles. Straightaway, I want to go to him, but the fear of being rejected has me cemented in place.

“Call the cops,” John grates out. “Let’s see what they say, after I’m done explaining how you snuck your way inside here, and how you are stalking your nephew who doesn’t want to see you.” He spits at the ground.

With the men a safe distance apart from each other, Dante steps between them and looks at Tobias. “I want this man out of here. He’s not allowed back in either. Don’t you agree, Connor?”

“Yes. I want him gone.” I turn to my uncle. “Don’t ever call or text me either.”

“Connor. Sweetheart,” Jessup growls my name in a low grunt. But that endearment shakes me to the core, as more memories are freed by my brain. All the air leaves my lungs and I stumble backwards, nearly tripping over Danny.

“What’s wrong, Con?” Danny is in my face.

I pull out of my friend’s hold, my vision going blurry. The world is spinning, but my fight-or-flight kicks in, and I’m running to the bus—towards safety. I keep running until I’m inside the back bedroom and the door is locked. My back hits the corner of the room, and I sink down onto the floor, curling myself into a ball.

“He can’t touch me.” The words come out so softly that I can barely hear them. But they are true. Everything I have felt from even before age ten comes rushing forth and slaps me across the face. I shudder. Disgust covers me like a scratchy wool jacket, and I can’t seem to get the itchy but sickening feeling off my skin.

I need music . One song after another, I play our upcoming album in my head over and over until my heart beats a rhythm that doesn’t hurt my chest. I don’t know how long I stay there before a knock on the door startles me out of the melodies I’m trying so hard to keep in my brain.

It’s my friends who are knocking, but even they can’t sway me to open up the door. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I just want to be left alone, which they eventually do, and another song fills my head.