No Quarter (NOLA's Own #2) (34 page)

“What?” I hissed, getting a nervous twinge in my chest.

“Oh my God, Kenna,” she whispered. “Turn around!”

So, I did. And my jaw dropped.

Devon GianFranco.

Standing
right next
to me was possibly the greatest guitar player of our age. Beyond talented, he was
gifted
and one of my absolute favorite musicians of all time. It didn’t hurt that he was beautiful—as in the way Brian was beautiful, like too good-looking for
anyone’s
own good really. In fact…he kind of resembled Brian, except Devon’s eyes were the greenish-blue of the Caribbean waters. His black hair was thick and straight, and it had the shaggy shoulder-length style of having grown out. He had high cheekbones along with thick,
thick
black lashes, a strong angular jaw, and a chin with a dimple in the center.

Oh my gods above.

He must have sensed the worship pouring out of Alys and me because he turned to us with a sardonic, if not condescending, scowl on his perfect features.

“Guess you want an autograph?” he asked, sounding resigned.

“Actually…” I could hardly get the words out of my mouth.

He was one of my greatest heroes, and he had made me so nervous with his obvious distaste of having to do something so tedious as to speak with me.

I cleared my throat and started over, “Actually, if you could just tell me what was going through your head when you performed that seven-and-a half-minute solo of ‘Water for Blood’
at Budokan in ’99, I think I’d be all set.”

Maybe it was just the low lighting, but I could swear I witnessed him crossing his eyes.

“What?” he asked.

“‘Water for Blood’
solo. In seven and a half minutes, you destroyed nearly every other guitar solo in the recent history of guitar solos. What was going through your head when you shredded that piece? Because I have never been so moved by a solo in my life as I was by that one.”

Devon’s whole demeanor changed, his facial features softened, and he indicated to the empty barstool. “Anyone sitting here?”

“No,” Alys and I chorused.

He smiled, and gods help us all, he had a big, fat dimple in his left cheek. It wasn’t as cute as Phil’s, of course, but it was up there.

“What magazine do you work for?” he asked.

That took me by surprise.

“She’s not a journalist. She’s a doctor,” Alys chipped in.

“A
doctor
?” Now, it was his turn to look surprised and maybe a little impressed.

I nodded. “Yep. Therapeutic medicine. And she’s an accountant.”

“Are you two together?”

We got that all the time really. Sometimes, people mistook our closeness for something more along the lines of a relationship.

“Nope. Just really close friends. Nothing romantic.”

“Or remotely sexual,” Alys supplied.

“Gotcha.” There was that dimple again. “So…Budokan. Shit, that was five years ago. I can hardly remember what I was doing yesterday.”

He had a very slight lilt to his voice, and most people might not catch it, but I could
just
tell he hadn’t been raised in America. His accent could very well be…
Irish?
That was strange, coming from a man with the last name GianFranco.

“Yeah, but come on!” I goaded. “That was one of the most epic moments in music history! Surely, if you can’t remember what you were thinking, then you certainly recall how it
felt
.”

His greenish-blue eyes pinned me, trying to gauge just what sort of person I was. He must have decided I was worth divulging in.

“It was the exact moment I truly understood the meaning of
free
. I’m not even sure I was completely in my body when I played that. I think that it was the closest I ever came to touching heaven. I couldn’t stop it, and the guys went with it. It was absolutely amazing.”

“
That’s
what you looked like,” I said softly. “I have the DVD of Cornered Cannibal at Budokan, and I watch just that solo over and over. The look on your face is purely sublime. I get goose bumps when I listen to it. It truly is inspiring on every level.”

“Wow.” He laughed but in a self-deprecating sort of way. “Don’t come across many fans who even realize—do you play anything on the side, Doc?”

“I wish. I only have the ear for the talent. Don’t really have any myself.”

“Her brother is an absolute musical genius though,” said Alys. “Connor has it in him to do something amazing with it, too. I hope
he
makes it to Budokan one day.”

I nodded my head in agreement. “He really does.”

Devon smiled, which was a condition that proved to be contagious. “If
you
think he’s got it, then he must. You’re the only fan who’s ever asked me about that, and it’s probably the most significant moment of my life so far.”

“What I don’t understand—and don’t get me wrong—is that you play…”
Shit, this is going to come out all wrong.

“What?”

“Well…
death metal
. Cornered Cannibal is one of the very few death metal bands that I like because you guys sort of push the boundaries. There are some serious classical elements to the music you guys create, but to me, it just seems that…okay, I’m just going to come out and say it. You’ve got more inside of you.”

He nodded, which flooded me with relief. “I do. But—”

“I mean, it’s not like you have to leave them or anything. But why not put out a solo album? Instrumental? Something that showcases the sides of you that aren’t screaming for virgin sacrifices and floods of hellish agony.”

Devon busted out laughing. “Oh my
God
! You didn’t!”

“Oh, I totally did!” I laughed in return.

His eyes were shimmering at me with raw happiness. “Woman, please tell me you’re not here with someone.”

“Sorry, Mr. GianFranco, but I am.”

He threw his head back and howled, “Nooo! This is so unfair! I meet the coolest chick, and she’s fuckin’ taken!”

Alys and I erupted with laughter.

“Where is he?” he demanded, but he was smiling.

“Last time I saw him, he was signing a gigantic boob.”

“Oh, damn, you’re with a
band
then?”

“Well, not the whole band!” I laughed. “Just the singer.” Jabbing my thumb in Alys’s direction, I told him, “And she’s snagged the bass player.”

“Where are you guys from?”

“La Place, Louisiana,” said Alys.

“Louisiana?” His face sort of went blank. “
Who
are you with?” he asked me with a stricken look.

A huge tattooed arm cut in between us, hand slapping the bar top.

“That would be
me
,” Phil snarled, placing himself directly between us, giving me his broad back.

“Hey!” I said, punching him in his perfect rock-hard ass. “What the hell, babe?”

He completely ignored me. I punched him again, making sure to hit on a nerve that would make his ass cheek feel as though it had been stabbed.

“Ow!
Fuck
, Kenna!” he bellowed, turning back to face me while rubbing the offended cheek.

And no lie, was he
furious.

“
Kenna
?” Devon gasped. He craned his head around Phil’s back to look at me in the face. “Kenna, as in
the Kenna
?”

The
Kenna.

A few things became obvious to me right then.

One, Devon GianFranco knew who I was and not just by the name of Baby Girl. That meant, two, Phil had to have told him about me. And three, Phil might’ve been a little jealous that I was speaking with an extremely handsome man. But that did not explain the waves of fury emanating from him. With all of this information, I also surmised that, four, Phil and Devon must have been good friends at some point yet no longer were.

Something clicked in my brain.

Phil whipped back around. “Get the fuck away from my woman, GianFranco, or so help me God—”

I pressed my hand between his shoulder blades. “Phil?”

“What’s wrong, Deveraux? Afraid I’ll steal her while you’re off signing some stupid bitch’s tits?”

Phil’s spine went rigid. “Fuck off.
Now
.”

“You’re an ass,” snarled Devon. Grabbing his beer, he stood up. “It was an absolute pleasure making your acquaintance, Doc.”

Phil took a menacing step toward him, so I bunched his shirts in my fist to hold him back.

“Likewise, Mr. GianFranco,” I told my guitar hero. I’d meant it, and I could see it in his eyes that he knew I had.

Devon nodded and turned on his heel.

“Well, what the fuck was that all about?” demanded Alys. “We weren’t doing anything wrong!”

Phil turned to face us both. “No, you weren’t.”

“Then—”

“That’s my business, Alys,” he said in a warning tone.

“Kenna was only asking about his Budokan solo!” she snapped at him. “She didn’t deserve that! He was being a perfect gentleman, Phil!”

“I’m sure he was,” he drawled, his eyes were burning with anger.

“That was some utter
bullshit
!” she seethed, looking ready to toss her beer in his face.

I turned my attention back to Phil and glared. “I think you have some explaining to do.”

His jaw started twitching. “Later.”

“Now.”

“Later.”

“Now.”

“
Later
, woman! But from now on, stay the fuck away from him, got it? And that goes for
all
of you!”

“You can’t tell us what to do!” Alys shot back hotly.

“No, but I’ll tell X, who hates that guy as much as I do, and he’ll set your little ass straight. GianFranco is fuckin’ dangerous, got it? He’s a fuckin’ monster. Stay the fuck away from him.”

Both Alys and I shot Phil a startled look.

Alys sucked in a deep breath. “All right. Got it.”

Phil’s eyes pierced me, waiting for me to answer. I nodded my head to let him know I got it, too, but I didn’t want to vocalize it. It hurt my heart to think that GianFranco could be dangerous, if for nothing else than the memory of his face while he’d played that solo. That wasn’t the face of a dangerous person but one touched by the gods.

“I’ll be…I’ll be around.” Then, he just…left.

The motherfucker left me.

“Oh my God,” whispered Lili. “He must really be pissed. He didn’t even touch you or anything.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Kenna.” Alys snaked her arm around my waist, pulling me back toward my barstool. “Phil’s just jealous that someone else famous saw you the way he does.”

Sitting back down, I told them, “He wouldn’t say GianFranco was dangerous without a good reason. He told all of us to stay away from him, not just me.”

“You didn’t see his face when he spotted us,” Vivian said, her voice hushed. “He was in shock to see you two all chummy. And then…he’s scary when he’s angry, Kenna. I thought he was going to rip GianFranco’s head off, but he slapped the bar instead.”

“I’ll find out what’s up. If GianFranco is that dangerous, we should know why. Alys, you need to talk to X about it, too, because if he knows something, he should tell you.”

Alys nodded.

“Where the hell is Lewis?” huffed Lili.

“Fuck it,” I told them with particular annoyance. “Let’s forget about these guys and get our buzz on.”

I signaled to the bartender for four more shots, and she nodded.

“Have you guys noticed that we’ve pretty much been dumped by all of them?” grouched Vivian. “The rich and famous just left us commoners to fend for ourselves.”

“Don’t worry. We can at least afford our own alcohol,” Lili told her.

The bartender dropped four shot glasses on the bar and grabbed an ice-cold bottle of Jäger.

We all hefted our shot glasses in the air, and Lili cried out, “To the commoners!”

“To the commoners!” we all cried back.

The bartender snorted and walked away to serve some other people, some not so common ones.

“That really sucks,” said Alys. “GianFranco is a god to us. We’ve listened to Cornered Cannibal for years and for nothing more than to hear his guitar. It’s not like the rest of the music was
that
great.”

“I know.”

“Do you think Phil was just jealous?”

“No. Honestly, you guys, I don’t think it was like that.”

Lili nodded. “Phil was pissed at
him
, not you two. But I think him storming off sucked ass.”

“Should we try to find our guys?” asked Vivian.

“I wonder where the hell mine went to. He said he was going to the fucking restroom!” fumed Lili. “I swear, if I find him banging some cheap piece of Hollywood trash up against a wall—”

“We’ll split up and see if we can find them,” said Alys quickly, trying to defuse the Lili Bomb. “Me and Viv, and you and Lili.”

“Sounds good,” I replied.

A band was just warming up on stage, and Lili and I made our way around the back of the crowd and headed up the flight of stairs to the second level. It reminded me of Bougainvillea a little. I felt Lili’s tiny hand slip into mine, and I shortened my long stride to accommodate hers.

“Sorry,” I told her absentmindedly.

“No worries.”

People were packing into the place now, and with all the faces I
did
recognize, the one I needed to see was missing. We walked around, hand in hand, and with each step, I felt my heart growing heavier.

He
left
me. He brought me here, told me he didn’t want us to be separated, and then marched away from me without a backward glance. If I didn’t do anything wrong, then why is he being such a shit to me? What was I
supposed
to do?

Lili came to an abrupt halt, yanking hard on my arm.

“What is it?”

But I really didn’t have to ask. It was as though my eyes were drawn magnetically toward a shady corner of the bar, finding Phil seated with his back braced against the bar top. Next to him—seriously,
right up
and pressing into his side—was a petite gorgeous creature, wearing a mini jean skirt that left little to the imagination, a green halter top that filled out in ways I had lost hope of ever doing so myself, and yellow stilettoes. She was gloriously tan, and her hair was the color of caramel.

Phil’s arm was around her shoulders, and he was leaning down, saying something in her ear. She smiled and nodded.