Beyond the Stix (Warrior Black #2)

Chapter 22

TWENTY-TWO

Connor

As far as apologies go, I half-assed it. I said it, though, and John responded. My heart is still racing long after he hung up, but it was good to hear his voice. That says something, right?

I regret letting my anger take over. I’m ashamed that I was blinded by my mistrust, and unwilling to hear John’s reasons for looking through my phone. That isn’t like me.

Unfortunately, it’s been my go-to reaction lately, and now I know why. And it leads back to Jessup. While we’re at it, let’s throw in a load of embarrassment that I didn’t get rid of all the damn creepy messages Jessup has sent me. But now his texts make sense. He was messaging me like I was his boyfriend. Christ, the guy needs psychiatric help.

I should have just blocked him like John suggested. But at one point I was going to let Jessup back in my life. A shudder of disgust cuts through me at the vile, twisted things he said to me last night and how he touched me.

No fucking way that’s happening now .

My resolve firm, I look down at the screen and, one by one, I delete the messages until they are all erased from my phone. I then block his number.

Jessup is gone—hopefully in jail—I don’t fucking care where he’s at anymore. As long as he’s nowhere near me and my mother.

Fuck. Mom . I don’t know how to tell her about what happened with Jessup. At least he’s not her brother.

“Knock-knock. Are you decent?” Dante calls out from the doorway. “Can we talk?”

A groan leaves my lips. “Yes,” I say over my shoulder. Then I turn and watch Dante step into the room, and sit stiffly on the corner of the mattress. Their blacked-lined eyes study me keenly, and their highly glossed red lips are pursed.

“What?” I say tersely, ready for a verbal battle.

“Are you going to be alright for today?” they ask, pulling out their phone and beginning to scroll.

“I will be fine.” I’m not lying. After my brief phone call with John, I feel slightly better, but I’m still not one hundred percent myself. However, once I get behind my drums, I will be.

“I’m only asking because there are several things Ron has set up for the band today, before you hit that stage tonight.” Dante darts their eyes my way before returning them back to the screen. “So, you good for an interview, and a quick signing with fans?”

“I’m ready for whatever you have for us,” I say resolutely.

“Great. Then get your fine ass in the living area so we can do a rundown of today. Tobias has some extra things he wants to throw at us for security.” Dante rolls their eyes, stands, and then quickly leaves the room.

“My fine ass will be out there in a minute,” I call out after them, but Dante ignores me.

I glance down at my phone once more, before retrieving one of my favorite pair of sticks out of its case. If I’m going to face the fans, I need these to be on my game.

But really, I’m stalling. Having to face my friends shouldn’t be daunting, but it is. I know eventually I have to explain to them about my uncle. There’s no way of getting out of it. Especially with Danny. He’ll want to know everything.

When I enter the living area, all heads swivel my way. “Well, that’s creepy,” I admit, staring at my friends and then the security team.

“Sit here.” Danny moves over. “Okay, we’re all here. What’s the rundown for today?”

“Me first,” Dante says as they stand, but their eyes are still glued to their phone. “I don’t know if Ron told you, but you’re the final act for tonight.”

“Fucking A. That’s awesome,” Bobby hoots, then high fives Callum and Rafe, who are sitting on the sofa.

I meet Danny’s eyes, and he’s smiling huge. “That is great news.”

“Ron says he’ll be arriving later this afternoon. But in the meantime, the roadies arrived an hour ago and have reviewed the setup for our ten-minute practice time on the stage at ten this morning. You also have an interview with Rock Mag at noon. Then a meet-and-greet at two over on the west side of the grounds. What I need from y’all is the song list for tonight,” they say with a few taps of their phone screen. “Any questions?”

“The only question I have is do we have any more pixie sticks?” Bobby asks, as he searches through the cabinets. “Or any candy laying around? I’ll be happy with some suckers for tonight.”

“Umm, no.” Dante scowls, and points to the empty chair. “Take a seat, Hicks.”

“My turn,” Tobias announces as he approaches and stands next to Dante. The grim determination on his face has my pulse jumping.

As lead to the security team, Tobias is usually all business, but looking at him now, something’s wrong.

“What is it?” Danny asks, a frown replacing his easy smile.

“We are making some changes in the lineup, that’s all. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Lineup of what?” Callum questions.

“Entering and exiting the stage. With one less person on our security team, I feel this is the best course of action. Since Danny has to go on last, I want Callum to go first. Then Rafe, followed by Connor. Bobby, I want you to go before Danny.”

“Are we walking in from the left of the stage like we did last year?” Rafe asks.

“Didn’t we enter from the right?” I ask, trying to picture last year’s entry point onto the stage.

“Rafe is right,” Tobias corrects, then points to the security team that’ll be joining us. “I’m not worried about the interview, since the band will be in the magazine tent and nowhere near the crowd. But the signing, that will be an issue. With that in mind, Connor, Pen will stick to you like glue. Where you go, he goes.”

“What if I have to piss? Pen’s not joining me,” I swear, shaking my head.

“If there’s room for two, you bet your ass I will be,” Pen says straight-faced.

For a second, I think he’s joking, but by the stoic look on the bodyguard’s face, he isn’t kidding.

“Okay.”

“What’s your issue with the signing?” Dante chimes in, slightly annoyed.

“This year’s spot for the signing has the band more exposed than they were last year. And with last night’s situation, not only do my guys have to keep the fans from coming around the tables, but we have to make sure Jessup doesn’t show up.”

“Wait, I thought he was kicked out—didn’t the cops take him to jail?” I ask, glaring at Tobias before swinging my eyes to Danny, who should have told me about my uncle. “What happened after I left?”

“This isn’t the time—” Dante begins to say but I quickly stand and glower at them.

“Don’t patronize me. I want to know what happened.” I turn to Tobias. “Tell me the truth.”

“He escaped.”

“He escaped?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. My pulse jacks up, and a rush of blood is pounding in my ears. I drop back into the seat, while taking calming breaths to ease the sudden tension flooding my body.

“Connor,” Danny says, his hand gripping mine tightly. “Breathe.”

“How did he escape?” I demand between breaths.

“It’s our fault.” Dom steps up, along with Pen.

“A crowd was growing around us and the paparazzi were taking pictures, and in that brief moment where our focus was on them, that’s when Jessup got loose. I’m sorry.” Pen drops his gaze to the floor.

“And we’re supposed to trust you when there will be an even bigger crowd today than there was last night?” I cover my face with my hands, dreading the next question I have to ask. “Does John know about Jessup escaping?”

“This isn’t his fault, Con,” Danny answers quickly.

“Does he?” My voice jumps up an octave, and my eyes land on Tobias.

“Yes,” he says evenly. “But you have nothing to worry about, Connor. We have you protected.”

“Protected?” I swallow hard at the ominous word. What does Tobias know that I don’t?

And how can I be so stupid? To think, I said sorry to John for my anger, when again, he had a chance to be honest with me, and tell me the truth about Jessup. Out of everyone, he should have told me.

More so than ever, I realize that I can’t trust John.

“Tobias.” Danny pulls his boyfriend’s attention. “What is going on?”

“No, Danny. I don’t want to know.” I suck back the ache growing in my chest and say, “Finish what you have for us, Tobias.”

Silence fills the space, before someone clears their throat, and Tobias finishes the security briefing.

I glance at Danny, whose eyes are fixed on me. He wants to talk, but I’m tired of talking. I’m tired of listening. I’m tired, period. With a slight shake of my head, my friend gives me his puppy eyes, but that won’t work this time. I turn my attention to the sticks in my hands and focus on what I have to do today.

Once our security team has been given their assignment, we work out the song list for our forty-five-minute time slot. Being the last band for tonight, we might be able to slip an extra song in for an encore, but that will depend on whatever else happens.

As we head to the stage for our practice slot, I spot several bands, including Grindstone and F-Hole. I’m familiar with both bands’ kickass music. The guys and I are ecstatic to be a part of the talented lineup for this year’s Rocktoberfest.

“Hey, Dante, did you make any arrangements for make-up with Tyler Kennedy?” Danny asks, as we pass his trailer.

“I don’t see it on the schedule. Ron didn’t tell me either. Why? Are you interested?” Dante’s right brow hike up. “I can see if he has some time, if you want.”

“No. I was just curious,” he says, but I can tell by the look on Danny’s face that he wouldn’t mind it.

“I’m sure Dante can work their magic and get you an appointment,” I suggest with a smirk as Danny takes the lead toward the lower back platform of the stage.

“It’s okay. Let’s focus on these ten minutes, so we can have a kickass time tonight.”

The stage manager directs us to get on stage, and Tobias cues us on the order of our entry.

The area where the crowd will gather tonight is empty, but I can see the growing number of fans who are already filling the outer perimeter of the venue.

“I swear it’s twice as many as last year,” Callum says as he hooks up his guitar.

“That’s crazy,” Rafe adds as he plugs in his Strat and tests it.

“I don’t care how many people are out there, this is going to be the bomb,” Bobby sing-songs, with a slick dance move toward his keyboard set up.

“Fucking goof,” Danny chuckles, as he takes center stage. I get behind my drums, while our sound and tech guys establish our lights and graphics.

As I settle in my seat, I hear my father’s voice in my head. Go beyond the stix, son.

A small smile crests my face, and I utter, “Tonight will be for you, Dad.”

After Danny does a mic check, I kick off with a partial song from our last album. Even though it’s practice, I give a hundred percent to the quick jam session.

With everything on point, I get off the stage, feeling renewed energy coursing through my veins. That verve carries me through the interview time, and then to the signing, which ends up being much longer than what we had last year.

“Now that’s what I want to see. That energy,” Dante says with smile that shows off their white teeth. “Ron will be proud.”

“I’m glad you think so,” I say, dropping onto the bus’s leather sofa and leaning my head back, exhaustion winning out. The four of us—minus Danny, are lounging about like lazy dogs on a hot summer day. Even though the it’s October, and the weather in the desert is still practically in the mid-seventies.

I casually pull my phone from my back pocket and glance at the screen. Nothing but social media notifications. No messages from John. Disappointment churns in my gut. I so want to tell him to go to hell for keeping things from me again, and making my fucking heart bleed.

I shove the phone back into my pocket, and close my eyes. Then my cell vibrates, and despite my nerves gnarling up like a tangled ball of yarn, I manage to casually grab for my phone. This is it. Everything I said to John—especially the apology, he can shove up his ass.

But it isn’t him. The number showing on the screen isn’t one I’m familiar with.

Do you miss me?

What the hell?

Me: Who is this?

Guess.

This is definitely not John. He doesn’t play games like this. And it’s not Jessup, since I blocked his ass. Then who could this be? The person could be texting the wrong number.

“Let’s get something to eat,” Danny loudly announces, pulling my attention away from the screen. My best friend has a blissed-out look on his face. With Tobias’s smug smile, we all know what they were doing in the back bedroom.

I fake-glare at my friend, before rolling my eyes. “Stop smiling.” I raise my hand.

“What?” Danny abruptly stops, a mask of virtuousness on his face, but he knows damn well that I know.

“Don’t make me say it,” I counter.

“Say what?” Danny says innocently.

“Come on, we all know you had a quickie back there,” I huff out. “You were louder than a two-dollar whore.”

Callum sits up. “He did? I didn’t hear anything.”

“How could you not? Danny’s far from quiet,” Rafe chimes in. “Tobias, harder—hey baby.”

There is a chorus of laughter around us, which has Danny blushing.

“You all can kiss my ass. I’m heading to the food tent. If you want to join me you can.” Danny throws a middle finger in the air and heads to the exit.

“If the food is like last year’s, I’m in.” Rafe rubs his hands together. “Ely’s food was awesome.”

“Isn’t that Rhone Horne’s guy?” Callum chirps.

“Yeah, I think so,” Danny says. “He’s a sweet guy.”

“Sweet or not, his food was amazing. Let’s go,” I add, not wanting to mope around here, waiting for John’s call, so I can tell him to go fuck off.

I take one final look at my cell phone, and that weird text message is gone. The person must have realized they texted the wrong person and deleted it. I’m not going to worry about it now. Or John.

My breath hitches at the thought of John, and I wonder what he’s doing right now. Is he thinking of me? Wishing he was here?

Jesus. Now, I sound like a love-sick teenager—no, a fool.

Who’s in love with his bodyguard .

“Where are you?” Pen nudges me in the shoulder.

“I’m right here,” I lie, while keeping my eyes on the large tent ahead of us.

“Liar,” he whispers with a smirk. “You’re a million miles away.”

“Whatever.” I speed up my pace, but Pen gets the hint and remains behind me.

My friends and I mingle for the rest of the afternoon. I’m thrilled to meet a ton of new-to-me bands, and some of the legends I’ve been listening to for years. This whole scene is fucking awe-inspiring.

Ron finally arrives, with Dean in tow. Our manager’s skin has a slight gray tone, and he looks more haggard than before—like he hasn’t slept in days. But his eyes are bright and a genuine, wide smile is on his face.

With assurances that he’s happy to be here with us, he takes the back room so he can rest before he joins the security team to watch us on stage. Part of me hopes he’s too tired to notice the condition of the room. Dom and Pen tried to put everything back into place, but it’s still obvious that someone had a meltdown in there.

Leaving Ron to rest, we head back out and see to our stage clothes, which is as simple as it gets. Right after, the guys and I end up hanging out on the left wing of the stage, rocking out to Grindstone, with their latest ballad, A Different Life . Next up is F-hole with their latest hard, heavy metal anthem, Down and Dirty , and then it’s our turn to get on the stage.

“Are you ready?” Danny asks all of us, but his eyes are on me.

“I’m ready to kick some ass ,” I scream, to let the crowd hear me, and a surge of booming voices echos back to us from the fans.

One by one, our names are being called out, and we step out into full view of the crowd below us, just like how we practiced earlier.

The roar from the crowd rises higher and higher as each Warrior Black member steps onto the stage. The excitement that’s surrounding us is giving me another rush of energy.

With a nod from Danny, I bang my sticks in a three count, kick starting us with a fan favorite from last year, Hit It , pulling them in to our music. Then Dangerous, followed by Can’t Have Just One , which was written by Callum, and finally Sink or Swim .

Between playing the music I love with my friends, the theatrics of the light show behind us and the adoration of the crowd, I’m flying high. My blood is humming, and I hope it stays with me throughout the night.

Finally, we end with an encore—Danny singing Without You , a love ballad he wrote for Tobias. He starts the song in simple acoustics with Callum gradually joining him with his Strat in the background. As the song builds, Bobby jumps in, then Rafe, and finally me. What’s even more fan-fucking-tastic is when the fans sing along with Danny.

It can’t get any better than this. The euphoria of people coming together, loving the music we’re sharing and hearing them sing it with us.

With a final bow from us, we exit the stage, sweaty, and damned energized. Even though John never showed—not even a phone call or text—I manage to enjoy the rest of the night with my friends. It isn’t until later, when I’m lying in one of the bunks, and quietly crying for a man I’ve fallen in love with but who doesn’t want me.