Knot My Band, Part One (Knot My Band #1)

Dax

PACK ‘EM UP GOSSIP COLUMN

THE EDGE IS SEEN LEAVING A NESTING STORE WITH OLI HART

May 28th

I stand back, arms crossed over my chest, and watch Oli bounce down the steps with that energy she’s famous for. Chase is right on her tail, his drumsticks twirling expertly between his fingers. He shoots her a grin, all sandy hair, and easy charm, and she giggles, nudging him playfully with her shoulder. They’re off to the practice room, not wanting to be apart from each other.

“See you later, boys!” Oli calls out, her voice musical, even in casual conversation.

“Later,” I grunt, more to myself than to her retreating figure. I feel the sting in my gut—a mix of jealousy and self-loathing—as they vanish into the venue.

Watching them together is like observing two puzzle pieces click. It should be me out there, but instead, I’m here, brooding in the shadows, letting the weight of what I’ve done and haven’t done crush me.

Chase turned into a perfect alpha for Oli the moment they locked eyes, even though he was a man whore before they met. Unlike me.

I just continue to fuck things up.

My rut disgusts me. Oli was vulnerable and in heat. I was doing the right thing and staying away from her but my body betrayed me. And ever since, I’ve been avoiding her, dodging those bright green eyes that seem to see right through me.

Oli deserves someone who doesn’t run away when things get real—someone like Chase, who’s always there, ready with a smile or a kiss.

Now that Oli is distracted, I can put my energy into protecting her.

I rub the back of my neck, feeling the prickle of unease that’s been gnawing at me since I found out about Oli’s nest being invaded. Jack lounges on a nearby couch, his guitar resting across his lap like it’s an extension of his own body. Aiden’s perched on a table edge, dark eyes scanning the lyrics sheet in front of him, but he’s not really seeing it—I know that distant look.

“Guys,” I start, and they both glance up, sensing the gravity in my voice. “Someone was in Oli’s nest. We need to deal with it. I’m not leaving this with Trevor and the label.”

Jack’s playful demeanor drops instantly, replaced by a hard edge. “I know. I’ve reached out and asked Trevor to send me the background checks they ran before hiring this crew, but it could have also been a fan.” His hands tighten on the neck of his guitar, the action belying his calm tone.

I pace a few steps, frustration building. “And the damn scent blocker means we can’t track them that way.”

“Shit,” Aiden curses softly, something he rarely does, pushing to his feet. “You think they meant harm to Oli? ”

“Can’t be sure,” I say grimly. “But we can’t take any chances. We need to figure this out.”

“Damn right,” Jack says, setting his guitar aside with more care than I expect from him at that moment. He’s all alpha now, protective instincts flaring up like a beacon. “We need to hunt this person down. We split up, and all go around asking questions while Chase is with Oli.”

“Without a scent to go off, it’ll be like finding a needle in a haystack,” Aiden points out.

“Then we better start looking now,” Jack concludes.

I stride backstage, muscles tense.

Roadies lug speakers, techs check mics, and the air hums with the static charge of impending showtime. I’m an alpha on a mission, though. My senses are sharpened to razor-edge focus.

“Hey, Leo,” I murmur, sidling up to the crew member who’s in charge of setting up my bass. I work with him every show and trust him more than the rest of the crew.

“Yo, . What’s up?” His voice is as casual as his shrug, but I can see the way his eyes flicker with curiosity.

“Did you catch sight of anyone hanging around the bus while we were gone between shows?” I keep my tone nonchalant, hoping my inner turmoil isn’t bleeding through.

Leo pauses, a cable held mid-coil, his brow knitting together as he gives it some thought. “Nah, man. Just the usual suspects. Why? Something off?”

“Usual suspects?” I ask, ignoring the rest.

“Well, Riley is always there. Tommy usually brings coffee. Trevor comes and goes, and the people who deliver food.”

“You saw all of them there while we were gone?” I ask.

Leo pauses. “I couldn’t say for sure. Sorry, . ”

I nod, trying to squash the unease that’s worming its way into my gut. Leo didn’t see anything concrete, and that just cranks up the volume of the alarm bells in my head. I pivot on my heel, scanning the backstage for another set of eyes that might have seen something—anything.

I find people, but no one I talk to has any answers, so it’s time to move on to security.

My boots thump against the concrete as I weave through a labyrinth of cables and equipment, zeroing in on the cluster of security guards huddled by the stage entrance. They’re supposed to be the eyes and ears around here, but their nonchalant chatter and lack of awareness don’t inspire confidence.

“Hey,” I call out, my voice slicing through their banter like a bass line cutting across silence. They pivot towards me, their expressions shifting from casual to something resembling attention.

“Who was on bus duty two days ago?” I demand, locking gazes with each in turn. My question hangs in the air, unanswered, as they exchange uncertain glances—a silent game of hot potato with my patience on the line.

“Anyone?” The edge in my tone sharpens, my impatience growing as thick as the tension in the space between us.

“Uh, it was kinda all hands on deck with the setup,” one of them stammers, a beta whose face doesn’t ring any bells. His gaze darts away, unable to meet the intensity of my alpha stare.

None of them look familiar to me, and there’s only one alpha among them.

“Great,” I mutter, sarcasm dripping from each syllable. There are no answers, just more questions piling up.

“Look, if you remember anything, find me.” I grind the words out, feeling my alpha status like a cloak around my shoulders. “It’s important.”

“Sure thing, ,” another pipes up, nodding vigorously. But their assurances are empty. As I turn away, I can’t shake the sinking feeling in my gut that we’re playing catch-up.

I’m threading through the crew, eyes peeled for anything out of sync when I spot him. Tommy. He’s leaning against a stack of amps, his gaze lingering on the stage door Oli and Chase disappeared through.

“Hey, Tommy,” I call out, putting on a casual front. My boots scuff the concrete floor as I close the distance between us, my fingers twitching at my sides.

“Yo, ,” he greets with a chin lift, pushing off the amps. “What’s up?”

I lean against the wall, mirroring his nonchalance. “Saw you eyeing the stage door pretty hard there.”

“Ah, well, can’t help it, right?” Tommy smirks, running a hand through his hair. “Oli’s something else. Her energy is magnetic, man.”

Does he have a death wish?

“You shouldn’t even be looking at her,” I growl, and a prickling sensation crawls up my neck.

His spine snaps straight, and he backs up. “Well, I better go.”

I grab his shoulder, stopping him. “Not so fast.”

“Someone mentioned seeing you by our bus while we were gone. What were you doing?” I ask.

Technically, Leo said that even if he wasn’t sure.

“Look, I just do lights and tech stuff. Don’t really pay attention to the goings-on outside my gig.” His eyes dart to a knot of cables on the floor, avoiding mine .

That just confirms it’s not his job to bring Oli coffee, but he does anyway.

“Come on, man.” I push off from the speakers, taking a step closer. My tone hardens as I cut through the crap. “We both know how quickly things spread here.”

“, really, I—” He stammers, his lips twisting into a tight line.

“Tommy.” My hand clamps down on his shoulder, grip firm, anchoring him in place. “If someone is threatening my pack, I have to handle it. You get that, right?”

“Of course I do,” he protests, but the tang of anxiety is ripe in the air now, almost overtaking the musty smell backstage.

“Then give me something to work with.” My voice drops, a low growl vibrating in my chest. “Anything at all. Because if something happens to her and you know something you didn’t say…” I let the threat hang, unspoken yet clear as day between us.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, his gaze finally meeting mine. There’s a flicker there, a hint of something more. Guilt? Fear? Knowledge?

Urgency is boiling my blood. The fierce need to protect Oli scares me.

“Alright, Tommy. Let’s cut the crap—” My hand clamps down on the front of his shirt, more forceful than I intend, as I lift him into the air.

A heavy hand falls on my shoulder, spinning me around. I’m suddenly eye-to-eye with Jack.

“Do you have proof it was him?” he asks, his voice calm but firm. His grip is unyielding, but I know if I say yes, we will handle this worm together.

“Back off, man. This is important,” I snap, trying to shrug him off, but he’s immovable. I glance at Tommy, who’s now stepping back, his gaze darting around like he’s looking for an escape route. His expression is anxious, but there’s relief there, too. He’s glad for the interruption.

“Let’s not make a scene unless we know,” Jack advises, his tone suggesting it’s more of an order than a suggestion. “Do you have any actual proof it was him?

“No.”

“Then take a step back until we have more. We don’t need to be seen coming between Oli and the crew,” Jack says while forcing me away. But as I’m steered away from Tommy, I lock eyes with him one last time, drilling my warning into him without saying a word.

As we weave through the chaos backstage, I can’t shake the gnawing sensation in the pit of my stomach. Something isn’t right, and I can’t let it go. Not when Oli’s safety is on the line.

I tell Jack everything I learned, which was nothing, and he tells me the same.

“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath, pushing a hand through my hair. The frustration is like a live wire under my skin, relentless and demanding action.

I lean against the cool wall, closing my eyes for a moment as I try to regroup. Oli’s face flashes before me, her emerald eyes sparking with that fierce determination she carries like a shield. She’s a firecracker, lighting up every damn room she enters, and the thought of her being threatened…

It ignites a protective fury in me, and I swear on everything I am, as an alpha, a man who’s fallen hard for a woman I never saw coming—I won’t let anyone hurt her. Not on my watch.

I push off the wall, resolve steeling my spine. The show must go on, and so must the investigation. For Oli, for the band, for us.

And whoever you are, intruder, you better start praying. Because I’m coming for you, and hell’s got nothing on a pissed-off alpha whose omega has been threatened.