Guitar Face Series Box Set: Books 1-4

by Sasha Marshall

  “You’re one to talk,” Memphis smiles.

  “She’s my employee. It’s different.”

  “I don’t think so,” Koi winks at her.

  Sir Sexy Mother Fucker is feeling lots of love in the air.

  ***

  Kip

  One month later

  I drum my sticks in rapid succession on my thighs as I wait for the show. Anxiety ripples through me like it always does minutes before we're called to stage. I love outdoor venues. I love the tents we call dressing rooms and the smell of the outdoors. I love how the wind whips around us on stage or when I can smell the crispness of the Colorado air. Aspen, Colorado has to be one of my favorite places to play. I wish I could bottle the air up and take it with me wherever I go. If you've never been here in the spring or fall, it should be on your bucket list. Better yet, the entire scenario should be on your bucket list. Find a band playing here during the fall and with a beer in hand lose yourself in the music for half a day. Breathe in the clean air and take in the beautiful foliage with gorgeous mountains as the backdrop.

  "Hey you," Henley smiles as she enters my tent.

  "Hey gorgeous," I smile back.

  I throw my drum sticks to the side as she straddles my lap. She’s gotten back to herself after the roofie incident. We’ve gotten back to the passionate but comedic couple we’ve been. Life is smooth sailing. I’m in love with an amazing woman who also happens to be my best friend. Not many men ever have the fortune.

  "Show was great babe," I say.

  Every show she plays is great. There's nothing sexier than a woman who rocks a guitar and sings her fucking lungs out all in the name of rock-n-roll to a sold out crowd. Put that beautiful woman against these mountains and it's a beauty only Shakespeare could adequately describe.

  "Mmmmm," she leans forward and kisses me.

  I deepen the kiss immediately and tighten my grip on her hips. I'm hard in about two seconds.

  "Time to go," Jessie calls into the tent.

  "Fuuuucccckkkkk. That was just getting good, baby mama."

  She giggles.

  "My second favorite sound in the world," I confess.

  "And the first?" She asks.

  "The sound of you coming."

  "My favorite sound is the way your voice is scratchy as hell in the morning. I love when you speak softly in my ear when you first wake me up. I get wet instantly," she says with a devious smile on her face.

  "Woman! You cannot tell me shit like that when I have to be on stage. I do not have time to fuck you. It's fucked up!"

  "Want me to suck your dick?"

  "Kip! Now!" Joe yells.

  "Need a minute. Left something on the bus!" I yell back and run with Henley to the bus.

  She giggles the entire way to the bus. Right now, with her hand in mine, running off to hide and be naughty… I feel like a teenage boy again. I wish I could describe this feeling to you, but words fail me.

  We rush up the bus steps before I turn and lock the door. When I turn she’s dancing slowly in the door frame that separates the bunks from the living room. I wish I knew what song she hears, the one she hums quietly as her body moves freely but slowly. I could stand here and watch her do this for hours. She seems so free and peaceful. Her smile comes easy and her eyes shine brightly from behind those lush lashes.

  I close the gap between us and catch her around the waist, bringing her back to my chest. My lips find the place where her neck and shoulders meet, the spot that drives her insane. Her head falls back to my shoulder, and a moan escapes her still smiling lips.

  “Let me inside you,” I say softly.

  “Not enough time,” she reminds me I’m due on stage.

  She turns in my arms and places her lips to mine. I slip my tongue in and gently stroke hers with mine. My hands find their way to her face, not wanting to let her go. I push her into the side of the door frame and am about to pull her onto me when she pushes against my chest.

  “Not enough time,” she smiles as she repeats.

  She pushes me back to the other side of the door frame and drops to her knees. When she looks up at me with those bright grey eyes I find it hard to breathe. I know I sound like a pussy, but I can’t explain to you the way my body forgets to perform simple functions when she’s around. She wastes no time unzipping me and putting my dick in her mouth.

  "Oh shit," I say as my eyes roll back in my head.

  She licks the length of shaft, then sucks me into her mouth and hollows her cheeks out. My balls are gently rolled around in her hand. This is exactly what heaven feels like. When her head begins to bob with her fast motion, I grab the back of her head and push her farther down my dick. She takes it like a champ.

  “Take me all, baby,” I demand and look down at her.

  Her eyes flick up to me with amusement in her eyes. I push in further and see some moisture in her eyes as she fights her gag reflex. I let her bob again but take over and fuck her mouth hard and fast, pushing my dick down her throat with each thrust.

  “Look at me,” I say and she opens her eyes to take me in while I throat fuck her.

  It takes three minutes more before I come in her mouth and she swallows every drop. My legs are suddenly weak, so I fall against the wall for support while she puts my clothes back on.

  "I'm calling in sick," I groan. "Feeling weak all of a sudden."

  The bus door opens and Koi is bitching.

  "Get on the fucking... stage. Jesus Christ!" He yells as he takes in Henley on her knees and the sated look on my face.

  "Left something on the bus," I croak out.

  "And you found it in my sister's mouth?" He asks with disgust.

  "It turned up in the damnest of places," I grin.

  "How about get off your knees?" he says to Hen.

  Just to fuck with him, I lean forward and kiss her.

  "Mmmmm... Salty," I grin at her.

  "Mother fucker," Koi says and exits the bus.

  Henley walks me to the side of the stage. I lean down and kiss her again and then turn to Koi and lick my lips. He fights a smile because even though it's his sister he knows that shit is funny. Henley’s giggles follow me on stage.

  We rock the stage. I haven't felt this good on stage in a while. As the sweat drips down my body, the cool air touches and sends a nice chill all over. I rip my shirt off when it's thoroughly soaked and throw it behind me and then jump into the next song. I look to my left to see Henley singing along and dancing with Jessica, Tabithia, and Hillary. I wink at her and she gets all fan girl on me.

  Now that gives me chub and a huge smile I can't wipe from my face. I'm going to marry that woman.

  When the show ends I throw my sticks to the crowd, grab my shirt, and march to Hen. I pick her up and she laughs as I soak her in sweat. She leans down and kisses me causing her brother to groan. She remains locked around my body as I carry her back to the tent. My tongue is in her mouth the entire time, afraid to break away. Someone will need us if I do. If they see me fucking with her, maybe they’ll leave us alone. No such luck.

  Jamie approaches us as we reach the tent, Henley still wrapped around my waist.

  "I need a minute in private," she says.

  "What's up?" I ask.

  Joe steps into the tent and exchanges a look with Jamie.

  "Your mother, Pam, is here. She appears intoxicated and we've tried to remove her from the premises quietly. We've been unsuccessful. With it being an outdoor venue we're out in the open. We felt it was best to keep her quiet to avoid unwanted publicity," Joe says

  "She's requesting to see you," Jamie adds.

  "Where is she?" I ask.

  "We have her on your bus," Joe answers.

  I walk across the tent and realize I'm missing something.

  "You coming?" I turn and ask Henley and wait until her hand is in mine.

  We approach the bus and I can hear Pam screaming from outside.

  Cory
guards the door, "She's been like this the whole time man. I need to know what you want to do."

  "Let me talk to her and see what's going on," I say and pull Henley into the bus with me.

  Pam quits yelling when she sees me, "My baby!"

  She lunges at me and wraps her arm around me. When I don't hug her back, she slaps Henley’s arm for her to release my hand.

  "Don't touch her again," I warn.

  "She wouldn't let me hug you, sweetie," she slurs casting out the smell of tequila she’s consumed.

  "What's going on mom?" I ask trying to be delicate.

  "You won't take my calls," she pouts.

  "What do you need?"

  Tears roll down her face," I don't have anyone to take care of me."

  "Mom I'm on tour. I can't be there to take care of you. If you'd like I can hire someone to help you out."

  "You take care of her," she points to Hen.

  "I'm on tour with Henley. It makes it a little easier to do when I see her every day."

  "And if you weren't on tour? If you didn't have your precious Henley anymore? "

  "You shouldn't be drinking," I say to her.

  I'm losing my patience.

  "Well, I'm coming on tour so you can take care of me. There's no excuse why you can't if I'm here dammit."

  "You have got to be kidding me! Even if you were here I have very little time to see about you. Do you know how busy we are on tour?!" I yell because she knows how grueling touring is on me.

  "Fine," she says and picks her purse up.

  She throws it over her shoulder and in the blink of an eye she pulls out a revolver and points it at me.

  "Me or her, Kip," she gives me an ultimatum.

  "Ma'am put the gun down," Cory says and attempts to squeeze in front of us.

  She fires off a shot into the ceiling causing us all to hit the floor.

  "Jesus fucking Christ!" I scream.

  "Anybody hit?" Cory asks.

  "I didn't shoot anybody yet you moron," Pam insults him.

  "Stand up Henley," she orders.

  I stand up and try to keep Henley down but she stands up anyways so I push her behind me and hold her to my back tightly.

  "Get out of the way," Pam orders me.

  "You'll have to kill me before you hurt her. What the fuck is wrong with you?!!" I ask.

  "That girl and her family is the reason you won't talk to me!" she screams.

  "You're the reason I won't talk to you! You lied to me my entire fucking life. You let Gary abuse and try to kill me! You kept my father from me! I can't figure out where your lies begin or end!" I scream back.

  "And you wouldn't have found any of it out had it not been for their meddlin'," she says with a straight face.

  She's delusional.

  Her hand shakes as she keeps the gun trained on us.

  "I'm giving you five seconds to move so I don't hurt you, son. Either way she'll end up with a bullet in her," Pam slurs.

  "Five."

  "Get off the bus, Hen," I demand.

  "Four."

  "Both of you behind me," Cory says and pulls against my shoulders to pull us both back towards the entrance of the bus.

  "Three."

  I trip on Henley's feet as Cory pulls on us. I look down to see Hen lean over and grab on to a railing and in the one second my head is turned and my eyes blink three gun shots sound off.

  I spin around quicker than I knew my body could move and see Henley's eyes are wide open and staring straight ahead.

  Joe and Marques fly up the stair case.

  "Are you hit!!?" Cory screams frantically but his voice is muffled by the aftereffects of the gun shots.

  "Hen?" I call out.

  "She's bleeding from the head," Joe says as she collapses to the floor.

  Joe jumps over the railing and begins pulling my shirt up.

  "He's not hit," he says as I move her hair around to find the source of the bleeding.

  "She's got too much fucking hair," I say as I push around the thick hair on her head.

  Her blood coats my fingers causing it to smear as I continue my search with Cory.

  "Fuck!" Joe says.

  "What?!!" I yell with fear.

  "No... Nothing... keep looking for the entry point," he says from behind me.

  "Shit, it's coming from her ear," Cory says and I help him push more hair put of the way.

  "Henley!" Koi screams as he enters the bus and kneels beside her.

  Chapter 23

  Kip

  Brain matter doesn’t look like it does in the movies. They get close enough to the real thing, but when you sit in the comfort of your home you don’t experience true sight, there’s no smell, and there aren’t screams. Blood doesn’t coat everything and pool under the head of the body attached to it in the movies. Blood looks darker in real life, more crimson than bright red.

  Maybe Hollywood got it right, but seeing it in person gives you a new perception of a gunshot wound to the head. Read life has a way of making you remember the copper smell in the air, the way small pieces of brain stick to the surfaces, and the smell of gun powder. I wrap the tie over and under until it’s pulled into the perfect knot. I swore next time I wore a suit it would be for an award show or when I marry Henley.

  “You ready, bruh?” Jagger asks.

  “Yeah.”

  I burton my jacket and follow him to the SUV. There are so many of these big black vehicles that I hae no idea who is in which one, so I follow Jag to the one he approaches. I find some comfort in the leather of the seat. The car is parked, but no one says a word.

  What do you say?

  I’m sorry never seems good enough. I mean I know they’re really sorry and they’re really sorry for my loss, but the words lose meaning after you’ve heard it so many times. But those are the phrases we’ve been taught to repeat robotically when someone dies.

  Somehow tragic deaths always make the surrounding air heavier. The death seems as though it is more senseless than death of the elderly or sick. Tragic death, even of the elderly and sick, make it seem like you were robbed. You were robbed of more time with them. Even if it was only days, weeks, or months, tragedy is a thief that takes time that could’ve been filled with understanding, smiles, strength, redemption, love, forgiveness, and touch.

  The SUV arrives at the cemetery where the paparazzi surround the entrance. Law enforcement prevents them from entering. This isn’t a spectacle, so we’ve all requested this event be private from the outside world. When you’re a celebrity, not even death, tragedy, or grief are ever really private. I’m not sure what they hope to photograph. The casket? Me crying? Who will take the picture when it’s sold and frame it? No one wants pictures of utter despair hanging on their wall remind them daily that the world is ugly.

  The SUV doors are open and friends and family pour from within. We each wear black as a symbol of spiritual reflection and loss.

  Red has agreed to officiate the service. Having a preacher oversee the ceremony just didn’t fit. We gather in a small circle around the casket that has been guarded by our own security team.

  Red begins the simple ceremony, “Thank you all for coming. Today is a day for friends and family to hold each other tight and remind each other of our love. Death reminds us of our own impermanence and that this life must come to an end. Tragic circumstances remind us that life is precious and it can end in the blink of an eye. While we live many lives, sometimes we find it impossible to find our place in this one. Death offers the spirit a reprieve and a chance for growth and peace. Life, no matter how it ends should be celebrated.”

  I don't mean to but I stop listening to his beautiful speech. The blood, the screams, my frantic fury, the sirens, the lights, the coroner's van, the body bag... it's all too much I want to scream out. I've done this before and it still hurts like hell. There is no rhyme or reason, no logical train of thought that can explain it all. I never
saw it coming. I couldn’t stop it, prevent it, or fix it.

  “The spirit is no longer with the body, and so we lower it into the earth with hopes of peace and thoughts of love as the spiritual journey begins. This is closure for those who remain behind. The funeral is the last chance we have to say goodbye. What lives must die. What exists does not cease to exist in spirit form. Remember to speak to the spirits and remind them of the laughter and beautiful memories. Make music to remember their lives on earth and shed tears for what you have lost so you remember we no longer have this spirit in human form. May the universe bless those of us left behind and those of us who have moved on. In the words of Tecumseh,

  ‘Live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart. Trouble no one about his religion. Respect others in their views and demand that they respect yours. Love your life, perfect your life, Beautify all things in your life. Seek to make your life long and of service to your people. Prepare a noble death song for the day when you over the great divide. Always give a word or sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend, or even a stranger, if in a lonely place. Show respect to all people, but grovel to none. When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light, for your life, for your strength. Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason to give thanks, the fault lies in yourself. Touch not the poisonous firewater that makes wise ones turn to fools and robs the spirit of its vision. When your time comes to die, be no like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song and die like a hero going home.’”

  Grace grabs my hands so I wrap an arm around her shoulder and place a kiss on the top of her head. The casket is lowered into the ground where the dirt will bury her forever. We each grab a rose and throw it into the casket as it continues its descent deep into the earth.

  With no instruction we all depart knowing it is time to leave. There are no other deeds or words for today.