The Song Remains the Same (13 page)

“No.”

“Are you tellin’ me you guys are inebriated before two in the afternoon?”

Cracking up, I held the phone away from my face. “Phil called us inebriated!”

Alys and Lili found this hilarious as well.

“Baby Girl!” barked out of my phone.

“Hey, babe!”

“Holy shit, I’m comin’ to find your ass and beatin’ it—”

“What purpose will that serve? I’ll just get turned on, you’ll get all frisky, and we’ll just end up—”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“Enough for me to really be enjoying myself, but not enough to be unable to walk a straight line or find a toilet if I need.”

“Well, all right. You havin’ fun?”

“I am now that we’ve left the crap stage behind us,” I grumbled darkly. “Phantomsy is the first band on the main stage, and I think we’re going to head over there…”

“Kenna—”

“Oou! Yes! They’re getting ready to go on! Quick! We can get to the front with our passes!” I grabbed Alys’s hand, and in turn, she grabbed Lili’s. “Bye, babe! Call you in a bit!”

“Kenna—”

I shoved my phone in my pocket, and we hauled ass. We were granted full access to watch the first band on the main stage. These guys were good, and we were happy. Yeah, we were a little
inebriated
, so it made for a fantastic moment to just rock out.

It wasn’t until they finished their fourth song that I spied a familiar face far at the end of the security line.

Tiny
.

He was the enormous, soft-spoken security guard who was in charge of all of NOLA’s Junk security detail. He noticed me glaring at him and waved shyly, and then he said something into a walkie-talkie.

Dude, seriously?

Despite the walkie-talkie, he wasn’t making a move toward us.

At least he’s not hauling us out of here like disobedient children,
I thought sourly.

After Phantomsy’s set ended, I marched my ass over to Tiny, who was sweating profusely.
Good.
Even if it was only the heat getting to him, I was glad he was uncomfortable. “What’s going on, Tiny?”

“Guys just wanted to make sure you ladies were safe, is all. I’m not to interfere unless things get hairy.”

“Define
hairy
.”

“Uh…mosh-pit-style shit?”

“So, we’re really allowed to do what we want?”

“I’m only here to make sure none of you get hurt.”

I nodded. “All right then. I appreciate that.”

His blindingly white smile made me blink. “No problem. You ladies go on and enjoy yourselves, okay? I’ll be watchin’ from a distance.”

“All right,” I replied.

Alys, Lili, and me turned and walked away from the giant bodyguard.

“I want to say it’s sweet, but it’s kind of creepy,” said Alys as we made it to the nearest beer stand.

“No, it’s fucking creepy,” I stated, still feeling miffed. “I mean, what have we been doing for the last fucking decade? Festivals, concerts, and, hell, even mosh pits! Even at Bougainvillea, Phil had to make a stink when he found us on the ground level.”

“Wish I had been there to see that. It sounds classic,” said Lili.

“It’s fucking stupid! It’s how they fucking met us! We weren’t parked at a table, keeping our asses out of the fun! We were front and center. Why would we change? We aren’t
that
old!”

“It’s like Tiny said. They just want us to be safe,” replied Alys.

“Three beers,” I snapped at the beer slinger. “Please,” I amended.

Thirty bucks later, we were sitting on the lawn, sipping our fresh beers and enjoying the expensive taste of them.

“I just realized we’ve spent nearly a hundred bucks on domestic beer,” grumped Alys.

“Are they tax deductible?” chirped Lili.

“You know what’s weird? Connor not being with us,” I said, picking at a clump of grass.

Alys was beaming though. “It
is
weird. I’m so proud of him, you guys. He did it. He fucking
made it!”

Excitement effervesced around my heart for my brother. “Yeah, he did. He fucking
made it
.”

“X says he’s the best out of all of them,” Alys said quietly. “He thinks Connor is the most amazing thing to happen to NOLA’s Junk.”

“Wow!” breathed Lili. “That’s a fucking compliment, if I ever heard one. I guess they’d never tell him that though.”

“And blow his ego out of proportion? Hell no.” I laughed.

“He did bring a certain element to the album,” Lili stated. “They made a phenomenal masterpiece. And ‘The Fortunate Fallen’ song? I get goose bumps every time I listen to it.”

Indeed, ‘The Fortunate Fallen’ was an epic nine-minute song dedicated to the past five years they had lived away from their home and loved ones. It was a beautiful tribute to all of us.

My phone started going off in the pocket of my baggy cargoes and I pulled it out to answer it. “Hey, babe.”

“Hey. Where are you?”

“Sitting on the lawn, having a beer. Phantomsy was pretty good. Tiny says hi.”

Phil chuckled. “Don’t be pissy. You feel like coming back to me?”

“Am I in trouble?”

“Nope. Just want to hold you while I try to take a nap.”

“Oh. Does that mean we’re free from work today?”

“Sure.”

“All right. Gimme about twenty minutes or so.”

“No worries.”

Chugging my beer, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand because I was classy like that. “Right. Well, I’ve been called to spoon with Phil. See you guys later?”

“Aw, man!” whined Lili.

“Well, go spoon with Lewis then!”

“He’s getting the guys’ dinner ready for later.”

Alys laughed. “We’ll catch you later, spooner.”

Buzzing pleasantly, I weaved through the crowd, heading for the backstage area. Holding out my pass, I was hustled through the checkpoint with no fuss. Without much thought for anything, I made my way to the back road that would lead me to the tour buses.

Staring down at the ground, I wasn’t watching where I was going, and suddenly, a big pair of battered black Army boots filled my line of vision, halting me in my tracks.

“Hey, Doc.”

My Jackie O’s hid much of my face, which had snapped up at the sound of that smooth lilting voice.

Devon GianFranco.

He really was too good-looking. His glossy black hair was pulled back into a short ponytail. The front was too short, but it fell artlessly around his face. Silver aviators hid his eyes, which just happened to be a shade of turquoise I’d never forget.

“Devon,” I snapped, making my way to walk around him.

A hand shot out and gripped my arm but not tightly.

“Why are you running?”

“You know why,” I replied, shaking my arm from his grip.

He nodded curtly. “I guess there’s no thaw in your Ragin’ Cajun, huh?”

“Can’t say that there is. But I know what went down between you two, and I gotta say, fucked up.”

“I need to talk to him about that. It…it wasn’t what he thought it was.”

“What? Beating the shit out of that poor girl in Berlin? Or raping and beating Camryn and dumping her on him?”

He recoiled. “
Camryn
?”

“Yeah.
Camryn
. The chick he was, I don’t know, dating, for lack of a better term.”

“Camryn. The makeup girl?”

“That’s the one.”

“She’s never dated Phil. She’s Jürgen’s creature.”

My buzzing brain fritzed. “Come again?”

“I only fucked her once, Doc. And Phil was there with me.”

My eyes crossed behind my Jackie O’s.

“What did he tell you?” He was so smooth, and fuck, he was sexy, too.

“I’m not supposed to be anywhere near, well,
any
of you guys. If you want to know, ask him yourself.”

“I was hoping you’d help me with that.”

“I know. And I suggested he do just that, but he’s not buying it. So…have a nice day—even though you beat the fuck out of a girl, spit on her face, and told Phil that that’s what
I
deserved.”

Devon flinched. “Yeah…look—”

“No, thanks. Bye.”

How I got out of there without breaking into the shakes, I’d never know. Adrenaline was coursing through me in heavy doses, and the fear I was feeling was weird. I was more afraid to be caught talking to the man than him doing anything to me.

Misogynistic motherfuckers!
All
of them!

Looking around, the amount of scantily clad females was a little appalling. Not all of them dressed like skanks, but I could definitely tell which ones were strictly there for their assets. It felt horrible, but they all had my pity.

Don’t they know they are better than that?
It only feeds the misogyny! It lets all these men feel like they could get away with treating women like objects.

Even Our Boys. They had led the same lifestyle, looking at these women as commodities, until we had come into their lives.

Past the trees, I spotted our bus and quickly made my way. Phil was outside, leaning against the side of the bus by the door, his arms folded over his chest. When he saw me, his face split into a dimpled grin that melted my insides. Opening his arms, I all but leaped into them.

“Hey,” he said, his deep voice penetrating every corner within me.

“Hey,” I replied, snuggling into his embrace.

“What’s wrong?”

Damn it. Really?
“Why do you ask?”

“You feel off. What’s up?”

I could just blame the heat and the beer for giving me the headache, but the thing was, if someone had seen me talking with Devon, it’d get back to Phil, and then shit would hit the fan.

“I ran into GianFranco.”

Phil tensed. “What? What the fuck happened?”

“Nothing. He said hi and told me to convince you to speak with him,” I said, not even touching on the whole Camryn subject. “And then I told him to stay away from me and wished him a pleasant day.”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill—”

“Hush. I told him to leave us alone, okay? Leave it at that.”

His arms tightened around me. “First fuckin’ day, and it happens. Shit, are you all right?”

“Yeah. You’re the one who hates him. Not me.”

“You should,” he stated hotly. “How can you—you’re right. We’ll leave it. I ain’t fightin’ with you over him.”

I kissed the exposed skin above his tank top. He smelled lovely. I could almost taste the sunshine he had absorbed since the beginning of the summer. It was like a sweet sort of caramel.

Kissing the top of my head, Phil took my hand and led me onto the bus. I spotted Connor sitting at the dining table, looking mildly ill.

“Connor?”

His green eyes shifted toward me, and he tried to smile. Phil stopped dragging me behind him.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

He looked
really
pale, and that was saying something, considering he was normally a healthy shade of milk.

“A little nervous I guess,” he replied.

“You’ll do just fine, man,” Phil told him. “It’s always a bit nerve-rackin’ during the first couple of shows.”

Connor nodded.

“If you can do it in front of hundreds, you can do it in front of thousands. Just ask X. He used to hurl before every show for a long time,” Phil informed him.

Again, Connor nodded. “It’s all good, man.”

Phil and I headed up to The Attic.

“I’m kind of worried about him,” I told Phil as we settled in our bed.

The trap door had been retracted, but he made no move to start stripping me of my clothes, which was a relief since I was sweaty and not so fresh in various areas.

Curving his body around mine, he slipped an arm around my waist. “He’ll be fine. Trust me. We all used to piss ourselves when we first started. Once the music starts flowin’, he’ll forget about the crowd.”

I didn’t see how that was possible, but I trusted my man. Behind me, he relaxed. Sighing with happiness, he gave me a slight squeeze.

“Thank you,” he said, brushing his mouth in my hair.

“For what?”

“Comin’ back, so I could fall asleep at home.”

NOLA’s Junk was scheduled to take the stage at nine fifteen.

At eight forty-five, Cornered Cannibal was finishing their set.

Backstage, we waited in the dressing room until Tiny informed us that the Cannibals had cleared the stage, minimizing our contact with them as much as possible. So far, it seemed as though I was the only one who had had any sort of run-in.

As the equipment was switched out, our roadies got busy with getting everything set up in what could only be described as organized chaos, and we made our way to the dimly lit side of the stage.

X and Alys were cracking on each other. Flipper was stretching and windmilling his arms around. He was missing Viv, who wouldn’t be joining us for another week and a half. Jason was enjoying a preshow whiskey while Phil was jumping in place, getting the blood flowing.

Connor was lurking behind everyone, pale face showing his terror.

“Hey,” I said softly, taking both his shaking hands in mine. “You going to be okay?”

“I’m fucking scared shitless, Kenna,” he whispered. “Fifteen thousand people are out there. What if I fuck up?”