Chapter 23
The next few weeks passed without incident. Sky didn’t mention a word about his denied proposal and Dash set about rebuilding her confidence in him and their future. As Dash stood backstage with Skylar, they both looked out at the crowd. His arm casually draped around her shoulders as he placed a kiss on her head. She responded by inching closer to him, snaking her arm around his torso, and hooking a thumb through a loop on his waist.
Surrounded by the haze of a semi-sheer mist of fog, the light show pulsed streaks of purple, blue, and white to the heart-pounding beat. Thousands danced to the rhythms of the opening act. Some in the crowd jumped up and down, some swayed their bodies like snakes, grinding side to side in a figure-eight motion. Sky looked up at him, her baby blues interrupting his thoughts. She, too, was compelled by the music, her body gently rocking against his. Instantly, his mind took him back to the memory of that first date when he watched her from backstage. He remembered hoping that his absence would be forgiven once she discovered who he was and that he was with the band. Though that was months ago, he felt like he’d known Skylar forever—and forever was his goal.
Energy revved the air in the arena as electricity infused sparks into the atmosphere. There was something unique about seeing a live performance. Whether it was a sporting event, play, or rock concert, nothing could ever compare to seeing something up close and in person. The feeling clamped down on your insides, compelling you to let go of your everyday world and join the fun. Tonight was no exception. It was a Disordered Fate performance that would cap off their twelve-city tour. The fact that he and Sky were going to take a much needed vacation once this show was done added to his excitement.
There was a distinct feeling in the air tonight. As the haze of pot smoke mixed with machine-generated fog, the energy and love of classic rock brought the masses who now filled the seats. Music seduced them. Dash couldn’t think of a better line of work. For a few hours, he helped people abandon their everyday lives and rely on the band to take them on a ride outside of themselves. Their audience was so diverse. Young people were discovering the music of previous generations, and those of the older set connected with their style while revisiting the musical style of their youth. And he got to be part of that. There was nothing like it.
Just as the band finished their last song, Dash kissed Skylar.
“You look like you’re anxious to get on stage.” She bumped against his hip.
Dash flexed his fingers, itching to grab his guitar and play some mind-bending sound.
“After tonight, it’s just you and me for a while, babe.” He pressed another kiss to her lips. When he drew back, he sank into her gaze. The past few weeks had only deepened their bond. Though most would think his life exciting, without her in it, his days were nondescript. He made no secret of telling her how much meeting her had flipped the script on his future. Skylar’s love for him bled joy into his solitary life. Through their many conversations, he’d impressed on her that while many people believed success brought happiness, the stage didn’t buy happiness any more than a number one book on the Wall Street Journal and New York Times. Despite what the public believed, the media as a whole filled people’s heads with bullshit, making mortal men into demi-gods. They based their reports on half-truths, some hype, some sprinkled with just enough facts to spin stories, whether good or bad, for sales. When he thought of the rock stars of his youth, his stomach sank. Now that he lived a similar life, he felt pity for them. Though when he’d started playing in public, he wanted to emulate them, he quickly learned the painful truth. Most of his idols had barely made it through their younger years with their lives, clinging to their health and relationships with drug-laced fingers, while others succumbed to alcohol. Many died, leaving behind wives and children. Rare were those musicians who’d managed to balance both well, but those who’d survived had one thing in common: they’d realized their frailties and had gotten their priorities straight. Health and family first. Now, that was his goal. He could create a sweet life with Sky while living out his passion. Loving her gave him purpose. He refused to sink into the self-imposed trap that had befallen so many others. He knew exactly what he wanted, and she was standing right next to him.
A large screen descended from high above the stage, and images of Disordered Fate filled the white space. Tracks of their hits played through the sound system along with audio bites of individual band members. They were pieces of conversations that had been recorded during various interviews. A grin caught the corners of Dash’s mouth when he heard a clip of his own voice.
“Yeah, man, it’s great when the fans come out and have a good time, but it’s not real, you know? Real life is where the lyrics are made, we just add the music.”
Skylar listened as intently as he did, her expression showed that she agreed with his comment wholeheartedly. Unfortunately, the sweet look on her face quickly soured once Ian approached.
“Hey, maaaaaannnn.” He dragged out the word as he sauntered up, pushing for a place between the two of them. He hooked one arm over each of their shoulders. “How are my favorite lovebirds?”
Ian’s tone sounded more sordid than interested, which pissed off Dash. He clamped down on Ian’s wrist and wrangled out of his hold. Once he was free, he removed Ian’s hand from Sky’s shoulder as well. With a laser-focused stare, he gave the man a warning. As heat crept around the collar of his tee shirt, the other man held up both hands in surrender. The sight of Ian touching his woman didn’t sit well with him. Dash knew damn well Skylar didn’t like it either. Ian looked between the two, suddenly aware his presence wasn’t wanted.
“No harm, no foul, man.” Ian backed off, but the damage was done. The atmosphere had changed once he’d entered the space. Tension thickened the air. Ian knew the cause because Dash had confronted him privately. Dash had still harbored resentment from the day that Ian had walked in on them, but he knew that changes had to be made. He held out his hand.
“Give me your key to my house, Ian.” Dash was glad that Sky was nearby to witness.
Ian shook off his surprised look and reached for the ring hooked on his belt loop. He looked between Skylar and Dash, opened it, removing one of three keys without even looking at it. He placed it in Dash’s hand. “You’re doing this now? Right before we go on? Are you seriously that pissed off at me?”
Without a word, Dash took the key and slipped it into the pocket of his jeans.
“Aren’t you going to answer me?” Ian’s question was insistent.
Dash maintained his silence, instead letting the action speak for itself. He’d ignored Ian’s scum-sucking attitude in the past, but he wouldn’t dismiss it anymore.
“Man,” Ian smirked, “I get it. You got feelings for this chick, but haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘bros before hoes’?”
Ian was lucky they were about to perform. Knowing that they had a show to finish kept him from getting punched again, and it wouldn’t do for the press to get wind of the bad blood flowing between them. Dash simply turned away from him, leaving Ian to wallow in convicting and doubtful thoughts.
Dash made up his mind then and there. This was the end of it. He wouldn’t give Ian the chance to get between him and Skylar again. Though he somewhat disguised his feelings, he was acutely more aware of Ian’s disgusting behavior. Was it me or Ian who changed?
Dash was torn. He felt like he’d failed a friend. If he’d paid more attention to his self-destructive habits, maybe he could have intervened. A part of him believed Ian was just having fun, while the other knew Ian was on a course of self-destruction. Dash denied any responsibility for the man Ian had become. He wasn’t the man’s babysitter; he was a friend. Although Ian was an asshole and always had been, the two men had grown in different directions. Ian had no morals while Dash had a clear vision of right and wrong. While he could dismiss the actions of a hormone-raged kid, he couldn’t extend that same courtesy to a grown man. He had everything at his disposal to live long enough to
enjoy his life but was headed toward self-destruction. Maybe he and the other guys had looked the other way too many times, but the time had come for Ian to face his own demons and exorcise them accordingly. It wasn’t anyone else’s job.
Dash shook off the guilt, instead focusing on the woman beside him. He could work with Ian, even joke around with him while on the job to keep the peace, but if he interfered in his personal life again it would be the end of both.
Chapter 24
“The clarity of that new sound system was killer! It really kicked ass!”
As Disordered Fate exited the stage, the volume of Ian’s voice rivaled the roar of the crowd. He was so loud that, backstage, he could be heard well above anyone else.
Skylar watched as Ian slapped a friendly arm around Dash’s shoulder. Although Ian thought he and Dash were back to an “old buddy, old pal” kind of relationship, Dash no longer felt the same toward him. Since the day that he’d barged into Dash’s house, it had become apparent that he didn’t care for Skylar. For Dash, that was a problem. As far as Sky’s opinion of Ian, the internet added insult to injury. The stories of Ian's reputation with women nearly crashed her hard drive when she did a Google search on him.
A scowl crossed Dash’s lips at Ian’s touch, but the moment his eyes connected with Sky’s, his gaze had a possessive glint. She thought it wise to stay out of Dash and Ian’s rippled friendship. She suffered no delusions she and Ian would ever share anything more than a superficial relationship. But as Dash came toward her, all those hesitant thoughts and feelings melted away. His outstretched arm was an invitation. She happily took it and leaned into him. Being in Dash’s embrace was her favorite place to be.
A feeling of serenity washed over her. She’d come to rely on the peaceful feelings being with him gave to her. Some days the emotions were a little different than others. At times they were soft waves, and at others, they crashed through her skin to penetrated muscle and bone.
“We’re going to do one more encore.” Dash’s voice slipped through the noise. She nodded. “Then, what do you say we take off for the weekend?”
“Take off? Don’t you want to hang out with the band? I thought I heard them say they were celebrating. You know, last performance and all?”
“I’d rather just take off with you.” His eyes twinkled with mischief, pulling her mouth into a smile.
“Where to?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Just away. With you.”
How she loved his spontaneity. His freedom. She scrabbled together some unvoiced questions. Where? When? How long?
“Stop thinking so much.” Dash’s eyebrows tugged together as he read her thoughts. “We’re just going to be spontaneous.”
“But—” He halted her protest with a quick kiss. The chant of the crowd for the band to come back was in full force. As the rest of the guys approached her and Dash, Ian came up beside her.
“Skylar.” He noted her presence with a nod of his head and a cocky grin. Lifting a bottle to his mouth, he took a long swig of water—or, at least, she thought it was water. Her muscles tensed as his eyes caught hers. “Staying for the after party?”
She never had the chance to answer him as Dash grabbed his arm, and along with the other two men, rushed them back onto the stage. The roar of the crowd as they burst from the sidelines was deafening. Thankfully, she was saved from Ian’s niggling. The last thing she wanted to do was to be in his company, but as she watched him on stage, she understood his appeal.
The audience was there for a good time, and Ian gave it to them. She watched him dance across the stage. His movements were seductive. Playful. Unpredictable. Though she was hesitant to give him credit for anything, she had to admit he was quite the showman. He could sing; everyone loved his smoky, raspy sound. Even she wasn’t immune. Though she suspected it was vodka or tequila in his bottle, it didn’t matter. His performance was flawless.
The encore was finished, as was this part of the tour. Other than meetings and a benefit concert, Sky was excited to have Dash all to herself, if only for a little while.
The crew followed the band’s exit, going onto the stage to break down the set. As Sky looked out, she could see that the crowd quickly thinned. Ian and the other guys had headed backstage, while Dash stayed with her.
He lightly pinched her chin, lifting it to look into her eyes. The man had just enjoyed the adoration of a vast crowd, yet she had all his attention. His gaze never drifted, enchanting her with his beautiful brown eyes. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled a long sigh. It suddenly occurred to her that she’d been holding her own breath. But then, she always seemed to have a limited supply of oxygen whenever Dash looked at her with such longing.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’m going to go get our stuff from the dressing room, and I’ll meet you back here.”
He pressed his lips to hers as she nodded. The idea of spending a few days alone with him brought a smile to her face. As he disappeared, she reflected on the past few months. Although she’d only been with him on the road for the last two performances, it was the first time she’d traveled with the band. The good thing about her job was that she could work from anywhere. Though she and Dash always had their own hotel room, the time spent on the band’s bus was trying. She and Ian were like oil and water. He perceived her as a threat to his friendship with Dash, but she knew the truth. The discord in Ian and Dash’s friendship wasn’t her at all. She was just the scapegoat.
While Ian was content to party away all his free time, Dash had other interests. She could see that she and Dash were the band’s first experience with one of them having a serious relationship. Except for their time spent in rehearsal or performing, the other guys seemed content with casual hookups. There were no wives, and she was the only girlfriend. Tonight, they wanted to celebrate. She couldn’t begrudge their desire but left the decision to Dash as to whether he wanted to join in. The tour’s hard work had everyone on edge. The party would allow them all to blow off some steam. They could indulge as much as they wanted because they could sleep it off tomorrow. Apparently, Dash had other plans.
Sky watched the stage crew break everything down, wholly lost in reflection. Preoccupied with thoughts of Dash and where they were going from there, her track of time was detoured. A frown tugged her brows as she glanced at her watch. It had been nearly an hour since Dash had left her there, and he still wasn’t back.
She couldn’t shake the feeling in her gut that something was going on. He would never have left her hanging like that. She only hoped he hadn’t gotten into it with Ian.
She headed down the hall in the direction Dash had taken. Roadies had completely broken down lighting fixtures, trusses, and sound equipment. They were now pushing wheeled cases outside to a waiting truck. She hadn’t realized that they, too, were almost finished. Once they joined in, the party would be in full swing. To her, that meant one thing. Dash had gotten caught up in the festivities.
Sky’s heels made an angry clip-clop sound as she walked through the hallway and toward the sound of voices. A thin stripe of anger stiffened her spine, its effects leeching through her insides.
She didn’t begrudge Dash a celebration with his friends, it was that he’d left her backstage to wait for him. She was well aware that part of the reason the band and crew lagged behind at a venue was to give ample time for the autograph seekers to go home. When they were out and about, the guys never seemed to mind giving autographs, but after playing several cities, the guys were tired. All they wanted to do was hang out together for a while and then go home.
She stared at the floor. The tiles were marred with black lines. She could only imagine the number of people who frequented these halls, leaving their mark by way of shoe scuffs. She couldn’t help but wonder how many of the greats had traveled the same path she now walked. Hendrix? The Beatles? The Rolling Stones? Probably too many to count.
The sound of music increased as Skylar approached the door. So did the smell of
marijuana. It permeated the air. She opened the door, the muffled sounds and smells within the room now amplified. She could barely hear herself think, and breathing without getting high would be a challenge, but she had to find Dash.
She looked around the room but saw no sign of him. People huddled in groups of two or three. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the scene. In two separate corners were private parties. One girl to five guys. All she noticed were the hands, none kept to themselves. One woman gave her a disparaging look. Sky averted her eyes. All she wanted to do was get Dash and get out of there. There was no need to engage with someone drunk, high, or both. An altercation was the last thing she needed.
The next group of people she passed made her skin crawl. Their activities were a little more sinister. All the men had their backs to Sky, oblivious to her presence. With busy hands, they cupped, tweaked, or sucked the woman’s breasts. While one played with curls of hair, another had a hand down her unzippered pants. With thin and tightened lips, she moved past them. Disgust churned her stomach. Her eyes narrowed as she walked past the scene.
A closed door near the back of the room grabbed her attention. As she made her way there, a scene to her right made her pause. There were times, as a writer, she found truth to be stranger than fiction. There, pressed face first against the wall with her legs widely spread, was a woman. She was naked from her waist to the top of her thigh-high boots. Her long, platinum-colored hair jiggled against the back of her shirt as the man behind her delivered hard thrusts. Sky caught a glimpse of his tattoo; the head of a serpent meandered down his back. For a moment, she was transfixed. The head rested at the top of a round cheek, exposing evil, yellow eyes, fangs, and forked tongue. The slithering beast seemed to move with each thrust, the detailing of its body expanding and contracting. The man’s dark hair hung down the middle of his back, his ponytail swaying back and forth as he moved.
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