Sinners On Tour 03 Hot Ticket (24 page)

When he pulled away, she stared into his eyes. “Don’t hate me for this, okay?”

“I don’t think it’s possible to hate you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” She carefully lifted his injured right arm, watching for signs of distress. The only distress he showed was when she tried to remove the leather cuff on that wrist. “No, don’t take that off.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want you to.”

She shrugged and secured his other wrist over his head by fastening the restraint over his studded bracelet. “Is your shoulder okay in that position?”

He nodded. She got to work.

She paddled him until he trembled with excitement and then set the implement aside. She moved to stand behind him and gently ran her hands over his chest and belly while she trailed gentle kisses along his shoulders and back. As she figured he would, he fought his restraints. She continued her tender caresses until he twisted out of her grasp.

“Not gentle, Aggie. Please, I can’t stand it.”

“Mistress V,” she reminded him.

“Hit me, Mistress V. Now.”

“I don’t think I will,” she whispered, spooning against him and running her hands over his belly and his most sensitive places inside the ridges of his hip bones.

He chuckled. “Ah, tickles.”

That laugh. It made her heart ache with longing. She almost didn’t have the stomach to continue.

“Your mother’s failure wasn’t your fault, Jace,” she said.

He went still.

“She still could have been a concert pianist. You weren’t standing in her way. She was standing in her own way. She did it to herself and used you as her excuse.”

“Don’t tell me about my mother. You don’t know anything about her.”

She should have expected his anger to surface first, but it wasn’t the reaction she was looking for. She had to push harder—dig deeper. God, she hoped he didn’t hate her after this. She didn’t know if she’d be able to handle his hatred, even if she did this for his own good. “She was a selfish bitch, Jace. Why are you defending her? What kind of mother blames an innocent child for her own failure?”

“Don’t say bad things about my mother, Aggie.”

“Why not?”

“She was my mother.”

“Yes, she was, but she was also a person. A person who hurt you. I don’t like it when people hurt those I love.”

“Need to inflict all the pain yourself? Is that it?”

She slapped his ass with the paddle, and he groaned, his head tilting back.

“I don’t hurt you the way she did,” Aggie said.

“But you’re trying to.”

“No, I—”

“Do you think I’m stupid, Aggie? That I don’t know what you’re trying to do? You think I’m broken. You think you can
fix
me. All that ‘I love you’ bullshit doesn’t mean a damned thing, does it? You don’t love me. Not the real me. You love who you think you can make me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yeah, it is. Unfasten the cuffs. I’m done.”

So that was his game. She wasn’t going to release him—no matter how unaffected he pretended to be.

“I’m not. Not even close to done.” She tossed the paddle aside and caressed his skin with her hands and her lips. Touched him. Kissed him with the same tenderness he frequently showed her.

After several minutes, he pulled away, yanking on his restraints. “Okay, you win. Let me go. My shoulder hurts.”

“What do you mean, I win? Do you think this is a game?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you blame yourself for your mother’s death?” she asked. “Or just for her failures in life?”

“Shut up.”

“Do you think she would have been more successful if you’d never been born?”

“I said, shut up, Aggie! I’m not in the mood for games.”

“Do you wish you would have died in that car accident instead of her? Do you think she would have been happy if you’d died? Do you—”

“Shut up, Aggie.” He yanked on his chains hard now, trying to pull the hook from the ceiling. “Just shut up. You don’t know a goddamned thing about how I feel.”

“Because you won’t talk to me. If I’m wrong, then tell me how you really feel.”

“You’re not wrong,” he shouted. “Okay? I do wish I’d died instead of her. I did ruin her life.” He took a deep shuddering breath. “Just… just let me go. Take the cuffs off.”

“Then you’ll run. You’ll hide.”

“That’s all I know how to do. It’s all I can do. Hide from it. If I don’t, it will find me. Hurt me. Until I feel like I’ve been eviscerated. Until death would be a blessing.”

She touched his face, and he looked into her eyes. She’d never seen his pain this close to the surface. It tore at her heart.

“I love you,” she whispered.

His gaze drifted to her forehead.

“Look at me, Jace. I want you to believe what I say. I want you to see it in my eyes.”

After a long moment, his eyes settled on hers.

“I love you,” she said.

“Why?”

“I need a reason?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. She was losing him again. And she had plenty of reasons. She wasn’t sure which one would get through to him.

“I love the way you make love to me, so tenderly, and with such care, that I feel like the only woman in the world.”

“That’s just sex, Aggie.”

She caressed the crease in his forehead gently. “It’s more than that to me. It’s a way to connect with you. I love your smile, your laugh, your ticklish spots.”

His eyes opened.

“I love how you put everything you are into your music.”

He smiled slightly.

“I love when you confide in me. I know you don’t do that with many people. It makes me feel like you trust me, and somewhere in there, you know I love you, even if you don’t think you’re worthy.”

“I’m not worthy.”

“You are. I’m not such a great person, Jace. I have a dark past too—things I wish I could take back, change, but I realized long ago that you can’t change the past. You have to let it go. Move on.”

“I can’t forget, Aggie. I’ve tried.”

She shook her head. “You’ll never forget. You
shouldn’t
forget, but you have to forgive yourself. And there’s nothing to forgive as far as your mother is concerned. Being born is not something that needs to be forgiven.”

He stared at her, his defenses crumbling. “I never told her good-bye, Aggie. I was too afraid.”

“Why were you afraid? Tell me.”

He didn’t lower his gaze as he spoke. “She looked like a monster. The accident twisted her body, smashed her face. Every inch of her was swollen and broken and bloody and bruised. I couldn’t stand to look at her. My father told me I’d better tell her good-bye before it was too late, but I ran away and hid. I hid for hours until my father found me. He beat me so badly that I couldn’t get out of bed. I missed her funeral. I couldn’t stop him from getting rid of her piano. I was too weak. And too scared.” His eyes brimmed with tears. “There was nothing left of her for me to hold on to. Nothing.” He took a deep shuddering breath. “I should have said good-bye. I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t…” Tears dripped from both eyes, and he squeezed them shut.

“Of course, you were afraid. You were a child, Jace. You shouldn’t have been forced to be strong. It’s okay. You have to forgive yourself. You have to.”

He bit his lip and shook his head.

She reached up and released his hands from the restraints. When he tried to turn away, she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him. He didn’t pull away as she expected, but instead, burrowed his face in her neck and trembled with emotions. She didn’t push him. She let him fall apart or pull himself together, whichever he needed.

Slowly, his ragged breathing returned to normal. Sometime in the long moments that he held her, she realized she needed this as much as he did. He gave her something no one else ever had. He gave her a reason to live—a future to look forward to and someone to love. With everything she was or dared hope to be.

“Let’s go watch the show,” he murmured.

She leaned away to look at him. “Huh?”

“The concert. I want to watch it tonight.”

“Even with Jon onstage?”

“Yeah.”

“Do I get to be your date?”

He flushed and grinned. “Will you?”

“Of course. Will you tell me about your father?”

His smile faded into a scowl. “Haven’t you already pushed me enough about my past?”

She watched his fortified emotional wall slip into place.

“When you’re ready, baby,” she amended. “I’ll wait. I want you to know you can tell me anything.”

“Can I tell you that you’re too nosy?”

She chuckled. “Yeah.”

“Can I tell you that even though you always rip my heart out, you really do make me feel better?”

“I do?”

He nodded. “Not sure why you stick around.”

“I already told you why. I love you. You’ll get it eventually.” She kissed him tenderly. “Get dressed. We have a concert to attend.”

***

Jace took a seat in the folding chair at the edge of the darkened stage. Aggie stood behind him and rested her hands on his shoulders. He knew she was staking her claim—could practically feel the
my
man
vibes coming off her—but he didn’t mind. He was getting used to the idea that he belonged to her. He concentrated on the noise of the crowd and not the sound of Jon thumbing his bass guitar behind them as he warmed up.

“When are you going to start playing shows again?” Aggie asked.

“As soon as Jon leaves.”

“Are you well enough to play now?”

“I think so.”

“Then why don’t you say something to the guys?”

Jace shrugged. He didn’t want to sound like a complainer. Jon was doing them a favor by taking up his slack. Besides, Eric preferred Jon. The rest of the band probably did too. And the fans. He knew they’d rather watch Jon perform.

Aggie leaned over and kissed Jace’s temple. He glanced at her, and his heart swelled with emotion. These feelings he had for this woman were foreign. He wasn’t sure what they meant.

“You should play at least one song for the fans tonight,” she pressed. “They miss you.”

“Nah.”

“One song for
me
then. I want to hear you play. Go say something to Sed.”

“Say what to Sed?” Sed asked from the dark space near Jace’s right elbow.

Jace turned his attention to the empty stage. “Forget it.”

“Does your woman need to speak for you?”

Jace sighed. “She wants me to play a song onstage tonight.”

“How about ‘Twisted’ in the encore?” Brian said.

“Yeah, that would be sweet,” Trey said.

Had anyone
not
overheard their conversation?

“Yeah, good idea,” Sed said. “I’ll go tell Dave.” He trotted down the steps to the floor beside the stage where all the mixing equipment had been set up. He picked up a headset with a mic and started talking to Dave, who was manning the soundboard and controls in the middle of the audience.

Jace supposed he had to play now. He wondered how Jon would react. And wasn’t sure why he cared.

As soon as Sed returned, a blue light flooded the stage from ground level. Eric tapped the first beats of “Gates of Hell,” and Trey and Brian dashed across the stage to take their places. Jon followed several steps behind, careening into Jace’s chair on his way past. Jace planted his feet firmly on the floor to keep from toppling over. Aggie’s hands tightened on his shoulders.

“Whoops, didn’t see you there, little man,” Jon said, before joining the band onstage.

“He did that on purpose. He’s a fucking asshole,” Aggie said between clenched teeth.

Sed entered with his signature battle cry, having abandoned using the violin in several songs now. The stage lights came on from above, and the crowd went wild. Sed lifted his hand to the audience, increasing their excitement with his attention. The guy had been born to be a star. Jace was used to seeing the back of Sed’s head while onstage, so watching his facial expressions as he sang his heart out held a strange fascination. As did Jon’s blatant attempts to upstage him. Jon moved from leaning against Trey, who was laughing his ass off, to standing on the center ego-riser in front of Sed and banging his head to his bass riff.

“Am I the only one who thinks he looks like an idiot?” Aggie mumbled.

Apparently. The crowd ate up every minute, especially when Sed elbowed Jon out of his way, and Jon did a backwards somersault off the riser.

During Brian’s guitar solo, Jon played his riff lying on his back at Brian’s feet. Trey entered the solo midway through, to play the dueling segment of the insanely fast progression. He leaned against Brian’s back, the synchrony between the guitarists intimate in its perfection. Trey placed his foot in the center of Jon’s chest as he played. The three of them—a unit. Jace tore his gaze from the scene, the ache in his chest acute, and focused on the pair of drumsticks flailing behind the drum kit. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him that Jon was having such a good time being part of the group. Jace had known all along that he had never fit in with Sinners. Not completely.

Jace started to get out of his chair, but Aggie leaned against him, her hands firmly on his shoulders. “He’s too busy showing off to realize he sounds like crap.”

He glanced at her. She smiled with that damnable pitying look in her eyes. He brushed her hands away and climbed to his feet.

The song ended, and Sed talked to the crowd. “How we doing tonight, Edmonton?”

The roar was deafening.

“We’ve got a special treat at the end of the show, so don’t go anywhere.” Sed glanced to the side of the stage where Jace stood. “As you might have heard, our bassist, Jace, has been a little under the weather. Some might remember Jon Mallory from our earlier days. He’s filling in until Jace gets over a case of explosive diarrhea.”

Jace’s eyes widened.
What?

Sed grinned like a shark and glanced offstage at Jace again.

“He needs to quit eating those expired burritos,” Trey said into his microphone.

That is what they’d been telling the fans? Jace laughed and shook his head. God, these guys were too much.

“I’ve got a backstage pass for the first fan who offers up a can of industrial strength air freshener,” Brian said into his microphone on the far side of the stage. “The ventilation on our tour bus sucks.”