Chapter 8

He didn’t tell you who he was. You don’t owe him anything.

True.

Actually, he owes you.

Very true.

After a few songs, the lead singer picked up the microphone and stared out over the crowd. An evil smile spread across his lips. “I’d ask you how you’re doing, but we’re in fucking Vegas! Are we ready to go fucking wild?”

The crowd screamed. The teens Danica had escaped could be heard over the rest crying out to the singer—who Melanie told her was Brave Trousseau—about how much they wanted him. He blew the girls a kiss.

“I’m sure a few of you will recognize this song, but I need to see you moving!” He put down the mic and put his hands together before him, then spread them wide. The crowd parted like the red sea and the drummer began to pound out a familiar beat, joined by the bassist. “If you don’t know what’s going on, get the fuck out of the way!”

Several men stayed in the cleared out area, some pacing, some bouncing in place. One did a flip, then gestured like he wanted the surrounding crowd to come at him.

Melanie backed Danica right into the guardrail. Laughing, she looked over her shoulder. “Stay right there! Things might get a little rough!”

“Wait… Wait… Wait…” Brave growled into the mic. “Go!”

The song began and the throng ran to meet in the center, all those not joining in pressing back to avoid flailing bodies. Danica had to fight to tear her eyes away from the violent scene so she could watch the show on stage. Brave threw his body to the very edge of the stage, his gritty screams making the words of the song nearly incoherent, but that didn’t seem to matter to anyone. The temperature rose as Danica found herself moving to the music, bobbing her head in time to the aggressive rhythm, and by the time the second song ended, her hair was sticking to the sweat on her skin.

The drumbeat stopped suddenly and both Brave and Alder turned their backs on the crowd. Silence spread around the venue as the bassist dropped his guitar and ran to the drum kit. A low thrum of unease spread around her, and she bit her bottom lip as the rhythm guitarist stepped up to Alder’s side. Alder nodded and picked up the mic.

“Those of you who follow us online know some shit went down last week. At Walmart.” He gave the crowd that same sheepish smile he’d given her earlier. A few people laughed, but the low murmurs were full of concern. “Tate’s toughed it out for the last few shows, but now he needs to listen to the fucking doctor and get some rest. What do you think?”

The crowd roared and a chant started. “Tate! Tate! Tate!”

“That’s what I thought.” Alder glanced over as a roadie helped the drummer off the stage. The drummer gave the crowd a parting thumbs up. Alder inclined his head at his young band mate. “His buddy, Derrick, is the drum tech and he’s got some mad skills. We’ll probably lose him to another band before long, but you wanna see what he can do while we’ve still got him?”

By the deafening response, the crowd approved. From the side of the stage, a teen with messy, bleach blond hair wearing a black Winter’s Wrath t-shirt ambled over to the drums, giving a shy wave halfway there.

Brave took the mic from his brother, a wicked smile on his lips. “That boy’s so getting laid tonight. Am I right, ladies?”

All the women in the crowd screamed in accord.

The woman standing beside Danica, another author whose name she was pretty sure was Sasha White, leaned close. “Total sub. Not my type, but if I ever write a Domme, she could so teach that boy a few things.”

Danica’s cheeks were blazing. She ducked her head. “I swear, you all could find inspiration anywhere.”

“Absolutely.” Sasha grinned at her. “The way you’re looking at the guitarist is definitely going in a book.”

Thankfully, the band started playing before Danica had to make some lame-assed protest. The fans didn’t seem to notice the new drummer didn’t have the unique sound of the man he’d replaced. Then again, the guitarists were giving it their all, lengthening their solos and pulling off some crazy antics that drove the fans wild. The rhythm guitarist swung his guitar around his neck, never missing a note. The bassist dropped to his knees during Alder’s solo, curving his hands around the back of Alder’s thighs as Alder threw his head back and thrust his hips.

Of all the things Danica had fantasized about, two guys hadn’t really hit her radar. But watching the men toss all sexual restraints aside changed that. She covered her mouth with her hand when Brave grabbed the bassist by his hair and bit the side of his neck.

Shoving Brave, Alder growled something his mic didn’t catch. The bassist stood between them, smiling at the crowd as he continued to play. Brave didn’t miss a beat as he roared into the mic, but Danica caught the absence of Alder’s vicious riffs. They returned so quickly, she might have imagined the slip, but part of her wondered if the animosity was completely staged.

After Winter’s Wrath finished their set, the group of authors and readers asked Danica to join them at the bar. She went, not as drawn to the music with the next band as she had been with ‘their boys’. She chatted with the women for a while, downing a couple more rum and cokes before asking the bartender for a water so she didn’t get wasted. As much fun as she was having, this was still part of her job and the night was only beginning.

The attention of the women around her shifted and she turned to see what they were all looking at. She took a gulp of her water as her mouth went dry. A door at the other end of the bar had swung open and several members of the band came out. First was the bassist, with the drummer who looked a little pale, and was moving slowly. He covered his mouth as he coughed and the bassist patted his back, gesturing to the bartender.

“Can you fix my boy a hot toddy?” He watched the drummer sit on a stool, then leaned on the bar. “One more night, Tate. If you’re not better by tomorrow, you’re going back to the hospital.”

Tate muttered thanks to the bartender as a steaming mug was placed in front of him. “I’ll be fine. Just lost my breath a bit.” He took a sip and grimaced. “Ugh, this is nasty. Can’t I just have a shot of whiskey?”

“Nope. Drink up.”

The rest of the guys joined them, all focused on the youngest member of the band. Danica tried to follow the hushed conversation of the other women, but she couldn’t shift her gaze from Alder. He looked so worried; she wanted to go hug him. And then hug Tate—very carefully, considering the way he pressed his hand to his side and cringed.

Handing out hugs. Yep, that would be the perfect way to approach them.

Alder put his arm over Tate’s shoulders. “You need to get checked out. I’ll go with you. Won’t be that bad.”

“Will you guys lay off already? Malakai’s been on my case since you got off the damn stage. Bad enough I needed to be fucking replaced during the fucking show.” He tipped the mug to his lips, his throat working as he swallowed fast. “I’m not missing the after party because you all wanna play mommy. Like it or not, I’m getting my freak on tonight. YOLO, bitches.”

Brave groaned and waived the bartender over. “I need a drink. You promise to never say that again and you can do whatever you want.”

Once they were all served, the guys changed the subject, discussing everything from their next album to how they planned to spend the next few days in Vegas. Danica found it easier to pay attention to the authors brainstorming than listen in on how many strippers the band planned to fuck. She did notice Alder wasn’t taking part in the conversation, but there was no way she could casually go over and say ‘Hi’ now. There were groupies hovering, waiting for their chance to pounce, and Danica refused to be counted among them.

Did that make her stuck up? Maybe, but she’d been conditioned for years to focus on appearances, physical and otherwise. Kinda funny, considering how her perceived appearance would change if all went well tonight. Either way, her best bet would be to wait for the right opening.

“You’re not gonna find what you want at the after party, Tate. And Cole would have your head.” Alder exchanged a look with Malakai that Danica couldn’t read. “Come on, there’s a place not too far you might like.”

A nod from Tate and Alder led the way out the exit by the bar.

Danica sighed. So much for that plan.

Looks like I’ll be attending the after party all on my own.

Hitting on strange men and hoping they didn’t expect too much. She’d been telling the truth about knowing how to defend herself, and she’d had to prove it in the past, but rather than worrying about fending off horny guys, she’d been looking forward to spending time with Alder.

She hadn’t known him when this had all started though, so really, nothing had changed.

Except the twinge of disappointment that didn’t fade as the headlining band finished their set and it was time for her to leave her new friends with a promise to connect online. She made her way to the Vanity Nightclub, which had been taken over by the bands, allowing entry to only those with special passes—like the one she had. After showing the bouncer her card, she slipped in, happy that she’d at least managed to get here before the crowds.

Choosing a corner booth so she could observe before she dove in, she ordered a stiff drink and settled in, doing her best to look relaxed.

She had a feeling if Alder had been here, she wouldn’t have had to pretend.