“No. What rules?” What I thought would be a party bus was turning into a boarding school on wheels.
Ryder chuckled and blushed. “I can’t believe I’m saying this to a lady. Serious business, if you know what I mean, goes in a bag and gets thrown out the window.”
I burst out laughing. “Why on earth would you do that?”
“You don’t want to be traveling on a rolling cow patty.”
“Oh my God.” I pictured myself throwing a bag of crap out of the window onto the side of the road. “That’s so gross. Funny, but gross.”
“That’s kind of what life is like on the road.” Adam, the drummer, piped in as he put his stuff in the bunk below us. “Funny, but gross.”
“I wouldn’t expect much else from five guys living on a bus.” I smiled at him. He winked at me and headed back toward the lounge.
Speaking of Drake, where was he? “There are only four bunks and there are five of you.” I did a head count while looking at Ryder. “Where does Drake sleep?”
“He has his own bus.”
“What? Are you kidding? He’s too good to travel with you guys?” And he was concerned about me costing too much money? Little did he know I could more than pay my own way. And the bastard had his own bus.
“Something like that.” Ryder shrugged.
Drake was obviously a sore subject. I needed to stop pouring salt on the wound. Time to switch gears. “So what happens on this bus?”
“Oh you know, a little of this, a little of that.” Ryder smiled, leaning against the bunks, making his black T shirt ride up a little on his stomach, and exposing the line of hair that started at his belly button disappeared into his jeans. I forced myself to tear my eyes away.
“Do the mice play while the cat is away?” I traced my finger along his jawbone.
“They do.” He grabbed my hand, putting my finger into his mouth to suck on it. He had some crazy sharp teeth. I thought I had imagined it while we were in bed together, but now it felt like he practically had fangs. I’d never noticed that before. And believe me, I’d spent a lot of time looking at Ryder Maddox in my life.
“Even if it’s against the rules?” I could barely manage the words as Ryder’s lips made their way down my arm, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Especially if it’s against the rules.” He pulled me in close, nuzzling my neck.
“Jesus, if you two are going to fuck, at least come to the common area so we can enjoy the show!” A thick Scottish accent jeered from the couch. Thomas, the bassist who replaced Chaz, had already cracked into a beer and had a game controller in his lap. “I’d rather watch you, lovie, than fight these bloody dragons for the thousandth time.”
“She’s not that kind of girl, Tommy.” Ryder pulled away, looking annoyed.
“They’re all that kind of girl, mate.”
Ryder rolled his eyes and smiled at me, shaking his head. “That’s why your credit card is maxed out on porn. You need to treat a girl like a lady to get them to stick around.” He turned back at me and pulled my face towards his. “I’m ready for a private viewing.”
Nothing is less sexy than having to climb a ladder into a bunk bed. Well, maybe slightly less sexy is having to crawl across said bunk on my hands and knees, ass high in the air. There wasn’t much room between the mattress and ceiling. I couldn’t sit up completely and I stretched out best I could, giving Ryder enough room to join me in the bunk. His body filled the space, making me claustrophobic. Behind the privacy curtain, the small space was pitch dark, almost airless.
I closed my eyes to regain my bearings, concentrating on Ryder’s hands making their way down my body, under my shirt. I hadn’t bothered with a bra in the early morning hour. I let my mind wander a bit, away from this tiny space as his fingers softly tickled my stomach, and caressed my breasts. The soft movements combined with the whir of the bus lulled me to sleep.
I practically hit the top of the bunk when my phone startled me back to consciousness. Blinded by the darkness, I fumbled around the bunk as quickly as possible to reach my purse that I’d forgotten about at the foot of the bed before the ringing woke Ryder and the rest of the bus. Once I dug it out of my bag, the screen illuminated the bunk and dragged me back into reality.
Work.
I hit ignore to make it stop.
Ten fifteen and they’d called three times. Lydia the Lion sounded more annoyed than concerned. It was nearing the end of the month and our group was swamped with reports to turn in, along with the regular crap we dealt with on a daily basis. Half sitting up at the end of the bed, my back arched over Ryder’s feet, I held the phone against my chest and tried not to hyperventilate.
What the hell was I going to do?
My first instinct was to call Lydia back with some cockamamie excuse. Tell her I was sick, no electricity, and snow up to the roof. But as the bus catapulted me and my new traveling companions toward the Great Lakes, I couldn’t bring myself to make the call.
Because I just didn’t want to.
For the first time in a long time, I was able to forget about all of the stress and nonsense I’d created in my life and just be free. I didn’t feel numb anymore. I guess murdering your boyfriend and running off with a traveling circus was just the thing to get the blood pumping.
Besides Jamie being dead, which I would give anything to take back, I wouldn’t change any other part of this.
So Lydia could go shit in her hat. I shut my phone off.
Thankfully, Ryder seemed to sleep like the dead. He barely stirred as I climbed over him to go down the ladder to the bathroom. Everyone else in the band seemed blessed with the same ability for deep sleep. You could hear a pin drop on the bus. Even in the middle of the morning, only soft lights illuminated the walkway and backroom. No trace of sunlight anywhere. Even the windshield and bus driver were separated by a dark partition.
To make sure I didn’t get woken back up by any more pesky work calls, I threw my phone out of the bathroom window like the piece of shit it was.
Ryder’s body felt refreshingly cool under the tangle of blankets when I climbed back into bed with him. I laid my head on his bare chest, my palm flat on the hard muscle of his shoulder, and let peace wash over my body as I fell back asleep.
The bus screeched to a halt. The sudden stillness jarred us back to life.
“I guess we’re in Detroit?” I asked Ryder, still lying on his chest.
“If we’re not, we’re so screwed right now.”
I laughed. “What time is it? I feel like I’ve entered a time warp.”
“You have. Who cares? When someone wants us to do something, they’ll tell us.”
Ryder’s philosophy on time was shockingly different than the rat race mentality I was used to, and I didn’t even know what to say in response.
“Are you hungry?” I hoped his answer was yes.
“Not for food.” He pulled me back on top of him. “But your stomach’s growling like crazy, so you should go get something – then come on back, so we can both get our fill.”
“Okay.” I gulped, almost forgetting about my stomach lining eating itself. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?” I didn’t think Ryder had eaten anything in the three days we had been together.
“I already told you what I want.” He kissed me before letting go. “Hurry back.”
My knees knocked together as I pulled my scarf around my neck. I zipped up my heavy coat and headed off the bus. I’d never been to Detroit before, but I felt fairly confident in guessing it was just as cold as Boston.
“Where do you think you’re going, little lady?” A squat man with thinning gray hair intercepted me as I stepped off the bus. The bus driver. He smelled like cigarette smoke and sweat, melting the icy air surrounding him.
I tried not to gag in his face. That would be rude. “To get something to eat.”
“Not by yourself, you aren’t. Unless you want to get yourself killed. Do you have any idea where you are right now?”
<
br /> “Detroit?” One of the Great Lakes must be nearby as well, a biting breeze from its shores ripping through my coat. Looking around, I saw his point. We were parked in a sad looking industrial area, some of which could very well have been abandoned by any sort of progress for the last couple of decades.
“Well it sure ain’t Beverly Hills. I was going to look for some food myself. But I’ll go with you.”
My lunch date, since it was shockingly only two in the afternoon, was named Ralph. He’d been driving buses for Soul Divider for the last seven years, and seemed thrilled to share a meal with a fellow New Englander.
The waitress, on the other hand, didn’t appreciate my charm. She sneered when I ordered a salad as my entrée. She made it clear that she didn’t consider leafy greens a meal. Everything else on the menu was fried with a side of fat. I needed to be mindful of these things, especially now that I was taking off my clothes for an audience on a regular basis again, in the world’s tiniest bunk.
“I’m originally from New Haven, but now when the band isn’t touring, I have a little cabin up in Maine.” Ralph explained, between spoonfuls of chili. Droplets of sweat formed on his forehead in response to its spiciness. “After driving this damn bus all over the country, I just want to fish. And not see another soul.”
“Yeah, that sounds pretty awesome, actually.” God, would that be me? Having to hide out in the woods with the bears? Eventually, someone was going to come looking for me.
I wondered if Ralph had skeletons in the closet as well.
“So what’s a nice girl like you doing on the road with a bunch of losers like this?” Ralph asked. I almost choked on my cherry tomato. “You seem way too smart for this.”
“I guess I’m just keeping my options open.” I smiled at him even though I knew he was still going to pry.
“Don’t you have a job to go to?” He continued, as I predicted. “I know there’s a recession going on, but come on.”
“I was in investment banking.”
“Did you get laid off?” Ralph finished off the last of his cornbread.
“I quit.” I smiled at his shock. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I had no life.”
“Listen, if you can learn anything from an old guy like me, make this it. Sometimes boring is better. I spent half my life looking for a party. I wound up alone. All it got me was driving a bus around for a bunch of hedonistic, moronic addicts and an intimate knowledge of the best AA meetings within every city limit of this fine country. This isn’t the lifestyle for smart girls like you. You need to get out before it swallows you.”
“Right now, I’m having fun.” I waved Ralph off of the bill and handed our waitress money.
“That’s how it all starts.” He sighed. We walked back to the bus in silence. I was glad he came with me, as we passed by several dilapidated houses that people were definitely still using. It reminded me of Fight Club.
I found Ryder in the back room, along with the rest of the members of the band, fighting computer generated zombies. Rap music pulsed from an iPod. Ryder stretched out his arm, inviting me to sit on his thigh. He wrapped his arms around me, controller and hands against my thighs. I watched as Adam and Thomas’s zombies fought to the death on a giant screen.
“Do you know how to play?” Ryder murmured in my ear. I needed to concentrate on the competition in front of us. This wasn’t the game I had in mind. I’d hoped to catch him back in the bunk so he could make good on his earlier promise, but this was going to have to do for now.
“Not really.” Videos games were a staple in my apartment. Jamie loved them. I used to appreciate his enthusiasm for them, but recently I just considered it an irritating time suck. I hated that he wanted to play with computer generated animation instead of me.
“Let me teach you.” Ryder handed me the controller and then covered my fingers with his. He guided me along, aiming the controller in the right direction, explaining how we were going to kick Thomas’s ass.
It was actually fun. We shot at zombies in a shopping mall. I took Thomas down repeatedly in the food court.
“Oh, bloody hell, lovie.” Thomas moaned when he ran out of lives. “It’s beginner’s luck, that’s all.”
“No, dude, you suck and got beat by a girl.” Ryder high fived me, and I wasn’t sure if he meant any of it as a compliment. Since when was I taking video games seriously? “Let’s go over to sound check, babe.”
Darkness enveloped the city now; only a few delinquent lights twinkled from the rundown buildings around us. A pink neon sign proclaiming we were about to enter Rock Candy flickered above, like it might explode and rain argon all over us. Ryder held my hand as we passed through the front door. I braced myself for another run in with Drake. Tension filled the dark room.
Drake’s feathers had already been ruffled, and I hoped it had nothing to do with me. The last thing I needed was to be abandoned in Detroit. He perched in front of his microphone, bawling out one of the crew members. Ryder kissed me, lingering just an extra moment before he joined the spectacle on the stage.
“Can you believe this dump?” That must have been Drake’s version of hello. “The sound sucks, this guy is a fucking moron. We should at least be playing at one of the casinos.”
“Dude, it’s cool.” Ryder tried to put out the fire erupting in the middle of the stage. “They paid our fee. We’re getting paid. Just have a good time. Relax.” He strapped on his guitar and started adjusting the settings calmly as if they were talking about the weather.
“Relax? Relax. You’ve got to be kidding. You’re happy with this shit? You’re happy to be a loser playing at some nostalgia club? We are not a fucking nostalgia act!”
“Hey, I’m just an employee.” Ryder threw his hands up in the air, conceding to Drake, his tone dripping with condescension. “I just show up where you tell me to. You have a problem, take it to The Mistress.”
Who the hell was The Mistress? I wondered as the band launched into their first song. I fought the urge to sing along. I knew every word to every song, except for the ones on the latest album. God, I missed listening to Soul Divider. Good feelings flooded my system like endorphins. Singing along to their music in my bedroom. Road trips with Erin. Parties in college. All the things I’d given up to become an adult.
I might only be twenty-four, but I felt like an old lady looking back on the good old days. How much would Drake hate these thoughts right now? I couldn’t help but smiling at the chance to irritate him.
Drake stopped singing and threw down his microphone stand, charging at Thomas. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Playing the song, man.”
“It’s not like that.”
“I wrote it. I think it is.” Thomas shrugged. “Maybe it’s the monitors.” His eyes widened, realizing he threw an innocent sound guy into the line of fire.
Drake’s face turned bright red and I thought his head might launch off of his neck at any minute, and take off straight through the ceiling into the stratosphere. Nothing seemed off to me, but what girl really paid attention to the bass line? I couldn’t take my eyes off Ryder. I let his melody wrap around me like his body had so many times in the last few days. He kept his eyes closed as he played, and all I could hope was that he was thinking the very same thing.
“Don’t you people know how to do your jobs? If you don’t get your shit together, we won’t play!” Drake’s tirade snapped me out of my daze. My jaw dropped as I looked back at Ryder. He just rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“Knock yourself out, buddy. You don’t play, you don’t get paid.” Someone who must have been the club manager emerged in the midst of Drake’s meltdown. “And if you don’t start treating my staff with respect, I’ll throw you out of here on your ass. And I won’t pay you then, either.”
“You can’t do that! We have a contract. Don’t you know who I am?”
“Yeah.” The manager crossed his arms, bristling as he puffed out his chest. “You’re a has-been w
ho doesn’t realize you’re lucky anyone still wants to shell out their hard earned money to see you.”
Drake slammed his microphone down to the floor, feedback loudly erupting over the speakers until the soundman had the good sense to shut them off. That guy was okay in my book. He stormed off stage, yelling at everyone and no one that he would sue this place, and that The Mistress would make them all sorry.
Who the hell was The Mistress?
Ryder suggested I meet him back on the bus so he could calm down the still blustering Drake. But it didn’t stop me from asking him about what had gone down in the club when he met me back at his bunk.
“The Mistress, Talis de Rancourt, is our manager.” Ryder sighed as he gathered my hands in his. He had a hard time sitting upright in the bunk. I knew if we lay down, I’d never get answers. “And probably the only person on earth more narcissistic than Drake.”
“Can their egos fit in the same room?” I giggled, then inhaled sharply as Ryder raised my fingers to his mouth, kissing each one as he listened to my question.
“Believe it or not, he kowtows to her. He thinks she has the answer to put us back in the spotlight. Her track record is pretty solid.” Ryder sounded bored and hollow talking about this woman, but I needed to know more about someone who could bring Drake down a peg.
“What’s her track record?”
“Real estate, some reality shows, and other bands that are pretty popular right now. Drake seems to think she’s got the Midas touch, but it pisses me off. We’re a real band that writes our own songs, not some manufactured publicity machine.”
“Is Drake modeling his comeback after some boy band?” Oh, this got better with every question.
“No, even worse.” Ryder’s eyes dropped as he visibly debated telling me more. He brought my hand back to his lap and squeezed it, his playful demeanor gone. “Immortal Dilemma.”
“The vampire band?” I clarified and Ryder nodded. “But that’s not real, it’s just a gimmick. Why is that so bad? She’s got a great idea, and it’s working. Maybe Drake’s on to something, partnering with her.”
Night Moves Page 3
