Chapter 25
Helena
"Are you excited about staying in Dracula's castle?" Torsten followed the question with a playful bite to her neck. Helena laughed and squirmed beneath him.
"You mean it actually exists?"
"Well, it's the castle that inspired Bram Stroker to write the novel. And the person Dracula was based on was a prince of the neighboring region."
Helena skimmed her hands across the naked skin of his back. She arched against him as his teeth pinched the skin of her neck again.
They departed Greece two days ago. Outside their private luxurious train car, dense Romanian forest rushed by their window. The trees grew so close together they blended into each other. Sunlight could barely penetrate through even in the middle of the day. Helena would have been scared if she wasn't traveling with four tall, bearded and tattooed musicians. Least of all the one naked in bed with her.
"We should stay at the castle," Torsten murmured in between showering kisses down on her neck, shoulders, and back.
"Aren't we for like two nights?"
"I mean to stay there for good. Fuck the tour. Let's rule in our castle together as the vampire king and queen for all eternity."
"Ouch!" Helena cried out in mock pain as Torsten bit her again. "You strike me as more of a Viking than a vampire."
"Why not both? I can still pillage this fine booty." Torsten moved lower and clamped his bite down on her ass cheek. She shrieked with laughter until she wiped tears away. His eyes rolled back in mock ecstasy as he sucked on her supple cheek.
"You're gonna give me a hickey on my ass!" Helena rolled away from him, still laughing as the suction broke.
What a goofball.
"Mmm, I could bite and suck on you all day." Torsten crawled across the bed and pulled her closer to him.
"Is that what we'd do as vampire king and queen? Just fight, bite, fuck and suck?"
"Sounds good to me." Torsten stretched out next to her, trailing his hands along her body. She closed her eyes to lose herself in the sensation of his fingertips on her skin. His touch was like a warm bath and an electric current at the same time. It warmed and comforted her to her core, and set every hair on end with eager tension.
"Honestly I do love Romania," he continued softly. "I'm considering buying a house here. It's beautiful, dark, and wild. It would be a nice place to get away."
"Get away from what?" Helena asked as she traced her fingers along the tattoo on his chest.
"Work. Obligations. Responsibilities. You know, love. The usual shit." He sighed. "Once you're a celebrity, you can't get away enough." His arm tightened around her. "I can't wait until it's just me and my vampire queen with no one else around but the trees and the stars."
As if on cue, someone's fist pounded at their door. Helena jumped.
"Fucking what?" Torsten bellowed.
"We're coming up on the castle. Get decent!" came Stig's voice through the door.
Helena looked out the window and noticed more space between the trees. Sunlight cast long beams onto idyllic brick houses. If she didn't know any better, it could have been a medieval village. The houses looked as if put together by hand, brick by brick. Narrow cobblestone streets wound through them. A quaint village ripped from a fairy tale. Maybe living in Romania wouldn't be so bad after all.
Ever since Greece, her mind and heart fought fiercely over confronting Torsten about his past and true feelings.
Just ask him why he doesn’t trust you enough to talk about his past. Rip the bandaid off.
No, why would you do that? He spends all day in bed with you and gives you countless orgasms! He said he wants to live in Romania with you! Don’t ruin these moments!
But you’re falling in love, hard. You need to know where you stand.
The more Helena thought about it, the less she knew what was the right thing to do.
The train slowed to a stop as she pulled clothes on. When fully dressed, she followed Torsten toward the front.
She shivered as she stepped off the train into the chilly, Romanian air. Light was still out, but the sun was setting fast.
"Where's the castle?" she asked Torsten.
"Turn around, love." He couldn't keep the excitement from his voice.
She turned and saw the most majestic and ominous structure she'd ever seen. Standing on the edge of a cliff, shrouded in fog, it appeared to be floating in midair. The spires mounted atop the towers seemed to poke holes in the sky.
Small, dark windows looked like rows of eyes staring down at her from along the walls and battlements.
A sense of awe came over her. Just like the town surrounding it, the castle looked ripped from a dark fairy tale but there it stood, as real as ever. She felt a pang of fear, but also curiosity. This massive, ominous place would be her home for the next two days, as well as the venue for the next show.
Torsten was clearly giddy. Apparently, they were the first metal band to book a show at Dracula's castle. Many others had tried but failed. Apparently, Romania liked him as much as he liked it.
They rode a gondola to the front entrance of the castle. Even when she was eye level with it, Helena felt like a fly approaching a massive human face.
"How is everyone attending the concert going to get in?" Helena asked.
"There are ten gondolas that will carry groups of people in shifts," Torsten answered. "It's part of their admission price. They'll see the same view that we do. It's all part of the experience."
"Wow. You're really dedicated to your fans."
He rubbed her shoulders with his strong grip. “It’s the least I can do for the people who got me to where I am.”
The gondola descended slowly until touching down in front of the moat that surrounded the massive castle. There was no bridge that she could see. Before she could ask how they would cross to get inside, she heard the loud clinking of a chain as the drawbridge slowly descended.
"A truly medieval experience," Torsten said with a wide grin. To him, this place was like Candy Land to a child.
I suppose a medieval castle in the heart of Transylvania is like Candy Land to any metal head.
They crossed the bridge into a large courtyard. Vendors were already setting up their merchandise tables. A gothic looking woman dressed in all black with a with corset set up various liquor bottles and drinkware on two long tables.
"The show will be just through there, in the great hall," Torsten pointed ahead to a pair of heavy wooden doors, nearly tall as the castle walls themselves. "I wanted to make this a community event. Romania has fantastic unknown talent, so I invited local bands to open for us. With any luck, they just may get picked up by our label."
Another gothic-looking woman wearing an ID badge approached them. "Welcome to Dracula's castle!" she greeted them in a high voice. "I'm Crina, the event coordinator. I'm happy to show you to your rooms and give you a tour of the castle!"
"You go ahead, love." Torsten sent her off with a kiss. "It's going to be a long sound check. We gotta sound decent somehow with all these stone walls around."
"You'll be great," Helena replied, stealing another kiss.
"I'll see you tonight," Torsten gave her ass a not-so-subtle grope before walking off to meet with the rest of the band. Crina was polite enough to pretend not to notice.
Helena followed her through the labyrinth of stone hallways. Normally she had a decent sense of direction, but there was no way she'd find her way around this place in just two days.
"How do you not get lost here?”
"Oh, I did a few times during my first week on the job," Crina answered with a laugh. "You get used to it if you're here long enough. And anyway, we have 24-hour security guards and phones that connect directly to the front office. You'll find your way to one or the other at some point."
"That's comforting," Helena muttered sarcastically.
"Here's your room." Crina opened a heavy wooden door and held it open. Helena walked through and instantly felt comforted.
A four-poster bed sat in the middle of the room, draped in fur and rich velvety blankets. A fire already burned in the massive fireplace, covering the room in a romantic glow and chasing away the chill in the air.
"You must be weary from the journey. I'll show you the bath house. It's the biggest in all of Transylvania!"
Helena followed Crina just about twenty feet from the room. This heavy wooden door had the word "BATH HOUSE" carved in intricate, gothic script at eye level.
"I'll leave you here," Crina said with a smile. "There are fresh towels and private changing rooms inside. Keep following this hallway to the left to return to the great hall, and back to the right to return to your room."
"Left great hall, right room. Got it."
Crina turned on her heel and with her all-black outfit, seemed to disappear into the shadows of the dimly lit hallway.
"Now that's a real vampire if I ever saw one," Helena muttered to herself as she pushed on the heavy door with all her might.
Inside, the bath was the size of a gym's swimming pool, and already steaming. This room was just as dimly lit as the hallways, with nothing but small sconces casting light. It felt like a cave.
Helena shuddered off her clothes and settled into the hot water. The room felt massive and lonely. She wished Torsten didn't have to leave her so often. Despite spending every night and every moment on the road together, she felt like she barely got to see him. Preparing for each show, performing the show, then after parties, and meet-and-greets, and so on, seemed to take over an entire day. They still needed to get to know each other, and she missed him.
I wonder if he even misses me.
She sank in the water up to her neck and rested her head on the cool stone behind her, turning over her thoughts carefully.
He's a smart man, and so giving. He's so romantic and full of loving words and compliments. But saying a simple three-word phrase is something he's never done. Perhaps he doesn't take those words lightly and wants to know it's right to say them. Or maybe…
She didn't want to complete that last thought. It would be heartbreaking to consider it. But maybe the man she fell in love with just didn't want to commit by saying those words.
Tears welled up in her eyes before she could stop them. The words I love you had been on the edge of her tongue for weeks but she couldn't bring herself to say them. The fear held her back. Fear of being completely shattered again, after giving all of herself to another man who swept her off her feet and promised her everything.
She stood and reached for a towel to dry herself off. No more than a half hour passed since she entered the bath, but she couldn't stay there anymore.
"I should've asked Crina where the nearest bar is." She needed a drink and a strong one at that.
After drying off and returning to her room for fresh clothes, Helena walked in the direction of the great hall. She didn't even feel like talking to Torsten at that moment. She just knew the great hall led to the courtyard, which had alcohol.
Chapter 26
Torsten
"Why the fuck is it still so fucking echoey in here!" Torsten bellowed.
"We are in a castle made of stone," Markus replied.
Torsten spun and jabbed a finger in his new drummer's face. "One more smart fucking word out of you and you're fucking fired! We need this shit fixed so we don't sound like a fucking high school gymnasium, not your clever fucking commentary."
Markus clamped his mouth shut while the remaining band members said nothing. They were well aware of Torsten's temper and his need for a perfect show.
"Ask the Romanian kids how to deal with this shit. I need a fucking smoke."
He stuck the cigarette between his lips and flicked his thumb impatiently on the lighter in his pocket as he strode outside. Once in the courtyard, he lit up and inhaled deeply.
Lars taught him to take deep breaths in order to relax, though he probably didn't mean with cigarette smoke.
I should go back to the room and get Helena's gorgeous mouth around my cock. That'll help me relax. Already, he stopped thinking of her as Lars' ex-wife. She was his woman. And what a woman she was.
Torsten exhaled the smoke slowly through his nose. Normally, he loved touring. Nothing thrilled him more than playing music in a foreign place, the challenge of playing in a new venue. It didn't usually get under his skin like this. But throughout this tour, he felt impatient with all of it. All he wanted to do was spend time with Helena. Touching her, fucking her, talking to her. Mornings and work obligations came pounding at the bedroom door too fucking fast.
Soon the tour would be over and they'd all go home. What then? He wanted nothing more to move Helena into his house, but would she want her old life back? Her normal life, not the one where she has a rock star by the heart strings. Would she want that change, and could she handle it?
He smiled to himself, thinking back to her reaction when he stripped naked inside her house. He remembered her tentative agreement to join him in this adventure. He knew she'd be someone up for adventure.
"Um, excuse me, sir?" A heavily accented voice interrupted his thoughts and he turned to its source. In front of him was the bartender they saw earlier when they arrived.
"Buna," he greeted in Romanian, one of the few words he knew.
"Your em, girlfriend? She is drunk and I must work," the woman continued in English.
“Where is she?" Torsten demanded, panic rising in his voice.
The bartender ushered him over to her stall, where he found Helena in a barstool, slumped over the bar.
"Thank you." In his worry, Torsten forgot his Romanian as he fished into his pockets for some bills and handed them over to the bartender without bothering to count. Her mouth turned up into a smirk as she accepted the cash and stuffed them in her cleavage. Torsten would have been enticed if his girl wasn’t passed out with her head down on the bar.
She wasn't moving. Torsten shook her arms gently, trying not to be rough despite his panic.
"Helena? Can you hear me? Helena?"
"Uhmmm." She groaned and began sliding off the bar stool, her legs barely able to carry her.
"Easy. Easy now." Torsten picked her up as if she were a feather and made his way through the gathering crowd of vendors and media members back to the great hall. The doors would open to the public in a mere few hours.
"Torrrrstennn...," she slurred.
"You're safe, love." He kissed her forehead and his panic began to subside. It appeared she wasn't drugged, just drunk.
What a relief I don’t have to murder anyone. But I last saw her barely two hours ago. Why would she drink so much so fast?
Once inside, he spotted the woman who took Helena to their room the first time. "Show us back to the room," he barked at her.
The woman's eyes widened when she saw the half-conscious woman in his arms, but she smartly said nothing. "This way, sir," she said, turning on her heel and leading him through the maze of the castle's interior.
They reached the room quickly, where Torsten laid Helena carefully on the wide bed. He dug through the mini bar and pulled out a bottle of water.
"Can I help with anything?" the woman asked hesitantly at the door.
"We're fine, thank you," Torsten snapped. He tilted Helena's head up gently and placed the water bottle at her lips. He poured slowly and carefully, making sure she didn't inhale any of it.
"Torsten...," she murmured again, her eyes fluttering open.
"What happened, love? A bit early to get shitfaced, isn't it?" He moved strands of hair away from her face. Her lips and cheeks flushed with that delicate pink when she was either tipsy or aroused. Even drunk and disheveled, she still looked beautiful.
"You don't love me," she blurted.
Torsten blinked, taken aback. "What?" He felt a knife’s tiny stab in his heart.
"You like fucking me but you can't say three fucking words. You won’t tell me shit about you." Her eyelids drooped heavily and her words slurred together. She definitely woul
dn't remember saying these things in the morning.
"Darling, you're drunk. You should sleep it off. We can talk about this another time." Torsten attempted to squeeze her hand, but she yanked it away.
"Don't placate me. I know you're better than me, how could I not fall in love with you? You're so hot, and travel the world and make me come all the time. You know all about me but I don’t fucking know you! Am I just here to stroke your ego, like why the fuck do you even want me here?"
Torsten sat and listened as best he could to Helena's slurred ramblings. He felt a stab in his chest because he knew it was the truth. These were her uninhibited thoughts tumbling out of her brain. The alcohol took her filter away and she bared her raw heart to him.
"Helena... you're not an ego stroke. You are so much more to me than that. But I want to talk about this while we're sober."
"See, three fucking words. You can't say them. You can’t even tell me what cereal you ate as a kid. You say all this other bullshit instead."
Torsten sighed. This was the moment he feared most would happen.
At some point or another, she’d want him for the long haul. She fell hard and wanted commitment and she deserved that. He had to choose whether to push her away, let her find a nice, normal guy and keep his skeletons in his closet, or tell her everything and admit how deep his feelings truly went for her. To do that, he had to be vulnerable. He didn’t allow himself to feel vulnerability since he was twelve years old and beaten within an inch of life.
Seeing her, the woman he loved so heartbroken because of his selfishness, gutted him. He made his choice the moment she spat out those words that stabbed him right in the heart. She was right. Despite her horrible experience with her ex, she opened herself up to him and put her heart on the line. She deserved the same in return.
But baring his truth to her while she was drunk and emotional could not be a worse idea.
He leaned down to kiss her, but she rolled away. She hugged a pillow to her chest and inhaled a deep sob. Careful not to touch her, he laid down beside her.
Heavy Metal Heart: A Bad Boy Rock Star Romance Page 12
