Authors: Sarah Dosher
Deacon
Eli-Fucking-Blue, you’ve got to be kidding me. How in the hell did I get myself into shit like this?
When I first saw her in that tight-ass black dress, with those fucking killer heels, lounging in my dressing room, I knew she was different. At the time I didn’t give two shits because I’d just finished playing one of the crappiest sets of my entire life - but I still knew. She didn’t carry herself like the whores normally trying to sneak into my dressing room so they could rub against the dick of the lead guitar player – because to them, and pretty much everyone else, that’s all I was.
Women complained about being just another notch in a guy’s bedpost, but as a guy that spends his life devoted to music, that’s all I ever was to them. Not one of them cared about me; they craved the status symbol and bragging rights - so yeah, I let the testosterone take over sometimes and willingly took what they so vehemently offered. Probably not as often as many of the other musicians I knew, but when tits and ass are constantly thrown in your face, I don’t care how honorable a man wants to be, eventually he’s going to break. Don’t you worry about those women, though. I guarantee they were satisfied when we parted ways.
There are three types of musicians – first is the type that plays music so they can snort, smoke, and fuck anything they lay their hands on. The second type’s focus is the music, but they sometimes get distracted by shiny objects shoved in their face. And the final type isn’t fucking good enough to ever have to worry about getting laid. I am the second type; music’s my entire life – the reason I fucking draw air into my lungs and force it back out. The feel of the guitar under my fingers is better than the smooth velvet of nagging women any damn day. But I am still a man with needs that I relieved every now and again; the need kept me moving forward each day, just as much as the music ever did.
I should have known to shut my freaking trap when Eli tried to introduce herself the minute I walked into the dressing room. Whores were only ever interested in me for one thing, and they never started a conversation with pleasantries, least of all names. They did all their talking with their hands and tongues; words weren’t necessarily a top priority for a band groupie.
But once I had Eli pressed firmly against the wall, every nerve ending in my body begged to enter her and I knew, without a doubt, she wanted me just as badly. I looked deep into her bright green eyes and could almost hear them begging me for salvation. Granted, I’m a bastard who could never save her from anything, and although what I have hanging between my legs is pretty damn fabulous, I can guarantee it will
not
bring salvation to any of womankind. The only thing I might be able to save her from was herself, save her from having anything to do with my sorry ass.
But the way her body squirmed under mine and her eyes were begging me to take her and never let go, the more I thought maybe I could – maybe I could give her a small piece of the redemption I’d spent years searching for myself. When my hard-on pressed firmly against her pussy, I knew I was done for, even with clothes blocking where I really, really fucking wanted to be – I still knew. I looked at her blushed cheeks, and her soulful eyes, and knew my life would never be the same. I just wasn’t sure if it would be a one-night life changing experience, or one that changed me forever. Truthfully, I wanted that change, I needed to become someone I wasn’t. Because that guy was a certified bastard that seriously needed his ass kicked, and that’s exactly what I got when Duke and his “flavor of the night” walked in the room. A verbal ass kicking that consisted of three short, simple, yet sweet, words – Eli Blue Savage.
At the time, I didn’t believe for a second she was Kirk Savage’s daughter; maybe a lunatic that used it as an excuse to gain access backstage, but no way in hell was she THE Eli Blue. I’d recognize her, wouldn’t I? But when I looked into her eyes again, deeper and past the desire and yearning, I saw the man I’d idolized for half my life looking right back at me; the same eyes I’d first met, all those years ago, when she was so young – same, exact fucking eyes.
I left the show and climbed on my Harley. I spent so much time playing music these days I didn’t get to ride it much, and after the encounter with Eli, I needed to feel the wind ripping against my skin. Blood was still rushing through my veins so fast I could hear it echoing in my ears and see it pulsing behind my eyes.
Kirk Savage was a rock god, no shit, he really was. The term gets thrown around a lot by lame assholes that wouldn’t know the difference between a Jimi Hendrix riff and the shit played on top-40 radio, but in the case of Kirk Savage, it’s the God’s honest truth.
Thanks to Eli, I’d been able to meet him not long before he died. I wondered if she remembered that night, or if I was just a fleeting echo that melted together with all the other fans she’d met in her life. Now, I found her again, and given the chance, I was going to figure out a way to repay her for the life she’d given me. No matter what I had to do, I wasn’t going to let her go so easily this time. And that’s when my heart made up its mind; when the door slammed shut on any escape for me – I’d never be able to cut her loose now, she was going to be mine.
Chapter Three
Deacon
Not a single day goes by I’m not haunted by the first time I laid eyes on her, so many years ago. Sweet, innocent – everything I’d never been allowed to be. It was merely a fleeting moment in her life, but it was the night that forever changed me.
I was seventeen, she was twelve. But you’d never have guessed that by looking at her, the only telling sign was that I could have used the top of her head for an armrest, she was so freaking short. Long hair, bright green eyes, wearing a ratty t-shirt with her father’s face covering the front – at the time I didn’t have a clue she was his daughter.
I was at a concert, hoping to sneak backstage to meet Kirk Savage, a man I’d idolized since spending years living in a home with a drugged out foster parent that lived and breathed him. Kirk was everything my foster dad wasn’t, I stopped looking to the fatass lounging on the couch for guidance, and turned, instead, to a man that seemed to have it all – including a kick ass blue guitar.
Dodging every overgrown security guard I came across, I finally made it backstage, but got lost in the winding halls that didn’t seem to lead anywhere –I figured the damn event centers were probably built this way on purpose. I was just about to say fuck it and head home when I heard the familiar click then whoosh of a zippo lighter. I peeked behind a black curtain and saw her perched on top of some old stage equipment opening, striking, then closing the lighter.
She glanced up at me, but didn’t seem fazed by my presence at all.
“Hey, you know your way around back here?” I asked her.
She didn’t speak, she just nodded.
“Can you tell me where Kirk Savage’s dressing room is?” I asked, a little embarrassed at how desperate I sounded.
“Maybe.” She said like I’d just forced her into the most boring conversation she’d ever had, “But even if I do, you’d never get in without my help.”
“Your help? And how will you help me?” I was definitely skeptical.
“I just will.” She countered.
“Then get me in, if you think you can.”
She looked at me, stood from her perch, and walked toward me. “What will you give me if I do?”
I laughed, “Stop playing games; can you, or not?”
“I can, doesn’t mean I will, though.” She was teasing me and trying to play me at the same time, but I had one mission in mind and if she’d help me accomplish it I’d willingly give her anything.
“Just tell me what you want from me in return.”
“You have to keep me company for the next few hours, then I’ll take you to him. It’s so boring back here I’m about to lose my mind.” She said and her eyes lit up.
“What if he leaves before then?”
“He won’t.” She said, sure of herself, but I didn’t know if I could trust her.
“C’mon,” she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me down one long dingy hallway to the next, and then to the next, until I didn’t have a freaking clue if I was still in the same building, or not. The further we traveled, the more people appeared, which I took as a decent sign we were headed in the right direction. We finally reached a section of the hallway that was filled to the brim with half naked women I assumed were just itching to meet Kirk.
She stopped, leaning against the wall across from a group of very eager women. Pulling out a baseball cap she had folded in her back pocket, she stuck it on her head and pulled it low.
“Now, we wait,” she whispered to me.
I looked at her and felt my eyebrows pull together in confusion. She smiled and laughed lightly.
“Stop,” she said, running her hand across my forehead to wipe the lines away. “Just wait, I promise.”
And that’s what we did, stood and waited. But what we were waiting for, I had no idea. I figured I was closer to Kirk than I had been, so I was willing to be patient.
“Which one’s the prettiest?” She asked, tilting her head to the group of women across the hall.
“What? No way, not playing that game.” I laughed.
“C’mon, which one? I gotta know who to dress like when I fill out in all those womanly places.” She elbowed me, laughing.
“None of ‘em, don’t dress like any of them…ever.” I shook my head. “Make ‘em work to see that much skin.”
She nodded sincerely, and we both laughed loudly. The group of women we’d been talking about turned to us and scowled, which only made us laugh louder.
From that moment on we just kept talking, about everything from the weather to our favorite food as the crowd gradually grew sparse, yet I still didn’t have clue who she was. I started humming a song I’d just started writing. I wasn’t a very good writer, yet, but I knew I’d get the hang of it before long. I could write the lyrics easily, it was putting the right words together with the notes and melody I struggled with. I hummed softly and after a few minutes she joined in with me. We went from humming my song to singing some of Kirk’s - loudly.
Hours passed and we’d sung all the songs we could think of when Kirk finally appeared down the hall surrounded by several men. The half-dressed skanks were still flanking the hall, but he didn’t even give them a glance—his eyes were locked on the girl standing next to me, and a huge smile was on his face. Every girl within twenty feet started fawning over him, and screaming for his attention, but he didn’t give them anything. One of the men opened the door and Kirk gestured for the girl next to me to enter. She wrapped her soft hand around mine and pulled me into the room with her.
“You guys go back there while I finish this up, okay?” Kirk called, but she was already pulling me toward a small room off to the left that had a long table in the center.
“So I got you in, didn’t I?” She smirked at me.
“Uh yeah, you did.” I said, astonished, “And how’d you do that? Who are you?”
“I’m no one, just lucky that’s all.” She smiled and hopped on the table and began swinging her feet back and forth. “So why do you want to meet him so bad anyway?”
“I’m a fan.” I shrugged. “His song was the first song I ever learned to play. I just want to meet him that’s all.”
“Ahh, a guitar player. I shoulda guessed.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, maybe a little too sharply.
“Nothing, usually guys don’t sneak backstage to meet him. Only the girls wearing clothes two sizes too small do that – which is totally disgusting because I’m old enough to know what they want. But whatever,” She paused to roll her eyes and take a deep breath. “If a guy goes to that much trouble he usually wants a piece of the action, or a shot at fame.”
“Are you always backstage?”
“Yup, always,” she shrugged. “Remember, lucky.” She pointed to herself.
“Who are you?” I asked again, but she just smiled at me.
“What song?”
“What?” I asked.
“What song of his did you learn?”
“Fallen.” I admitted.
“That’s what I figured.” She said with a smirk.
“Princess?” A man shouted down the hall.
“Coming.” She yelled back then whispered, “That’s us.”
She wrapped her hand around mine again, and led us back to the room just off the door we’d come in. I’ll never forget the sight of Kirk, lounging on the couch with his guitar in hand – THE guitar, the one I wanted to own someday. I’d dreamed of meeting him for…well, since forever, and couldn’t believe this girl had finally been able to make it happen.
“Hey baby girl, get your skinny butt over here and lay one on me.” Kirk said with a huge grin.
She did as she was told then pointed to me, “This is a big fan of yours, daddy, he’s a musician, too.”
Daddy? Daddy? I felt my throat closing as the realization of who this girl was settled over me. I’d just been hanging out with Kirk Savage’s daughter.
His eyes went from being soft and loving to shooting daggers at me. “Is that so? And you met this boy where exactly?” Even I could tell his gruff tone was that of an overprotective father, and he was about two seconds away from giving me a swift kick in the ass, straight out the door.
“Stop it, daddy, he’s nice, and I wanna hear him play.”
My head jerked to her as my mouth went dry. No fucking way was I playing in front of Kirk-motherfucking-Savage – no matter how much I wanted to impress him, not going to happen.
“Hmm, you wanna hear him play?” He asked then shrugged. “Sure, why not? I’m done anyway.”
She squealed, and they both looked back at me.
“Umm, I, uh…” I stuttered because my whole body had gone numb, including my brain.
“C’mon,” she pulled me toward Kirk who was holding his guitar out to me – it wasn’t his blue guitar, the one I’d dreamed about, but still it was a guitar he’d touched—played—and that was enough, “Play that song you were humming in the hallway, I liked it a lot.”
I walked toward Kirk, hesitantly reached out for the guitar, and saw tremors running along my hand - I prayed he didn’t. Looking back to her before I dared touch it, I saw her face covered with confidence. She seemed to have more belief in me after hearing me do a hallway sing along, than anyone else I’d ever met. That made me want to wrap her up, throw her over my shoulder, and never let her go.