Broken (The Guitar Face Series Book 1)

by Sasha Marshall

  They look a bit stunned to see us.

  Jagger doesn’t let the awkwardness go on another minute, “Can I have the room for one minute, guys? Sorry to bust in here like this. I didn’t realize anyone else was in here.”

  The guys are instantly accommodating, and as they exit, Shaun turns to me. “You are the most amazing guitarist I have ever had the pleasure of seeing live. I hope you find your way back. We miss you.”

  And with a smile, he’s gone, but not the weight of his words.

  I don’t have time to get emotional because Jagger gently grabs the sides of my face again. I really like this touchy-feely stuff. He shows me my “All Access” pass with the name, “Jagger’s 1st Crush” typed across it. I burst out laughing as he places the lanyard over my head.

  “I guess you can’t very well put Henley Hendrix on it if I’m trying to keep a low profile. Thank you, Jagger.” I lean up and kiss him on the cheek. He stills, then I stand on my tippy toes and hug him tightly. “Now go rock this motherfucker.”

  He smiles, and together we walk to the side of the stage with him carrying my camera case and my arm through his.

  I forgot how much I enjoy the first moments of live rock-’n’-roll. The moment when all the lights go down, and you hear the first guitar riffs through the speakers. The riffs sound more powerful, harsher, and more real than the recorded music. When the lights come on, you see the love each musician has for their own music. They create this. It is theirs, and this is the moment to own it. I wait for the first song before I go into the press pit. I want to enjoy watching them play for the first time in four years.

  I wind my way down to the gate between backstage and the audience. The security guard lets me through and points me in the direction of the press pit. There are eight others in the pit. I have never fought for space with other photographers since I usually wait until they’re gone to start snapping shots. The industry standard for concert photography gives the photographers only the first three songs to photograph with absolutely no flash. I didn’t realize how cramped it would be. I might as well get used to it. I push through the men and start shooting the guys rocking their faces off. They’re playing one of their earlier hits; my brother is singing lead. I love this song, and have a moment of nostalgia remembering the first time I heard it, years ago.

  I photograph each one of them in their element. When Koi and Jagger back off the mics and start playing close to one another, I capture every second of it. Through my lens, I can see they are laughing at one another. They’re enjoying every second of this. As Koi steps back up to the mic, Jag joins Cam. I capture their serious guitar faces. Then I focus in on Kip as he pounds away on the drums. His shirt is already off; sweat is starting to bead on his skin. That’s how I like my drummers... shirtless and sweaty. But don’t we all?

  The second song winds down and the photographer beside me yells. “Holy fuck! Are you Henley Hendrix?”

  Shit. I shake my head and pull my hat down a bit more. I will wait on the side of the stage while they finish up photographing their last song. I begin to make my way across the length of the stage to the backstage door when someone from the crowd grabs my shirt. They must’ve heard him. The photographers are all in my face by this point clicking away. I’m trying to cover my face and protect my camera at the same time. The hands from the crowd continue to grab me. I’m stuck between the metal divider that keeps the crowd back and eight grown men, double my petite size. When the dim lights brighten on stage, I’m really in trouble.

  “Get the fuck off of her,” I hear.

  A sweaty man picks me up. I hear Koi screaming at the photographers behind me. I’m quickly carried to the end of the pit, and immediately carried backstage in the dark. But, I know who manhandles me; I could bottle up that smell and sell it for hundreds of dollars.

  I’m placed on a crate. “Jesus Christ! Are you okay, Hen? Are you hurt?”

  I feel Jag’s hands on my face, and I instantly know he is shaking. From fear or anger, I don’t know. He can’t see me in the dark. He can’t see my fear. I shouldn’t have gone out there with those other photographers. I knew better.

  “I’m fine, Jag. Thanks for getting me out of there,” I muster.

  A flashlight illuminates Koi, Cam, Kip, and Randy around me. They look as pissed as Jag sounds. I don’t get to look at Jag before the light moves away from him. Koi grabs my hand and ushers me to the side of the stage. He sets me on another speaker box beside my parents, and flashlights shine in my face, then all over my body. The lights are blinding. I squint my eyes. I notice the crowd getting restless.

  “I’m okay, guys. Thank you for saving my ass, but you need to get back on stage.” I shoo them away.

  Jag is the last to leave. His eyes bore a hole through me. He still looks pissed. Jag doesn’t lose his temper often, but when he does, he has a hard time reining it back in. The lights come back on, and Koi is breathing into the mic. He looks over at Jag, and Jag nods. I feel my mom and dad each throw an arm around me. I smile to let them know I’m unharmed.

  “Sorry about that, folks. Some of you may know my little sister, Henley Hendrix,” Koi says to the audience.

  The crowd goes wild. I hear my name. It has been awhile since I’ve heard those sounds. It is still as exhilarating as it always is.

  “Tonight she is watching us play for the first time in four years. It’s a really big deal when the Guitar Goddess shows up to watch you play, whether she is your sister or not, or whether she grew up with you or not. As many of you know, Henley is also a gifted photographer, and we asked her to take pictures of us tonight, but some asshole photographers in the pit trapped her and took her photograph instead. A few of you in the crowd pulled on her clothing and trapped her in the pit from the other side. As much as I love my fans, it is not okay to harm my sister. The people responsible for harming her have been escorted from the premises. There are some of you out there who tried to help her and succeeded in pulling people off her. I just wanted to say thank you. I know she appreciates it too. How about we get back to playing some music for you amazing people tonight?”

  The crowd roars and my heart swells. I’m stuck on two sentences he said. It’s a really big deal when the Guitar Goddess shows up to watch you play, whether she is your sister or not, or whether she grew up with you or not. These men mean the world to me, and I haven’t shown them that in a really long time. I need to make up for it, and I will start by touring with them.

  Broken Access plays two more songs, and then Koi makes a quick appearance in front of us.

  “I don’t want to take a chance with you going down there again tonight, okay? They know you’re here,” Koi says.

  “That’s fine, I can get some shots at the next stop,” I say with a smile.

  “You are going on tour?” he all but shrieks.

  “Appears so.”

  “Fucking A! This is going to be fucking awesome, Hen. Jesus, I love you.” Koi is overcome with excitement and he picks me up and swings me around like a child. He sets me back to rights, and kisses my forehead. I have the greatest brother in the world.

  “Shit. I gotta go play.” He turns on his heel and rushes back to the stage.

  The rest of the show is absolutely amazing. I’m happy I came to see them play tonight. Little by little, I feel my walls coming down. I feel more alive tonight than I have in four years. I forgot how much I love this life. I love the good, the bad, and the ugly. It feels good to be alive.

  After the show, the guys make their way to the green room where the food is held. All bands and anyone with an all-access pass are allowed here. The food is catered, and the room is usually stocked to the gills with alcohol. I’m famished as I stand in line with my parents and load up on grub. I fill my plate with fruit, veggies, and steak skewers. I grab a bottle of water and sit at a table with Kip’s parents and mine.
We eat, talk, and laugh. The guys grab a beer and leave quickly to sign autographs. I help the moms make plates for the guys since they usually opt to eat on the tour bus. I grab as much beer as I can and help move it all to the bus. My mom and dad sit with me on the bus for a while since the boys aren’t back. I’m really close to my parents, and Koi is too. My mom grew up in rock-’n’-roll, so our lifestyle isn’t exactly crazy in her eyes. Dad joined the family when they were both young, only twenty. He was a session guitarist at his young age, and my grandfather really respected his ability. He was hired on, and my parents fell in love shortly after. They are still deeply in love with each other. I hope one day I can find that kind of love.

  “How many other photo shoots do you have booked?” Dad asks.

  “I don’t have much I can’t reschedule. I had planned on shooting some friends’ headshots for a modeling agency, but I can hook them up with another photographer. I think I just want to try to enjoy being on tour again. I’d like to not travel back and forth any more than I have to.”

  “That sounds great, baby. Red was excited about you touring. He also asked that I tell you to call him if any of these boys get out of line. He will personally kick their asses,” my mom says.

  “The man is seventy, but I don’t doubt he could hand these boys their asses,” I say.

  Mom and Dad decide to head home before the boys get back. We hug, and I wish them a safe trip. Since my car accident, I have become fully aware of how much can happen in a small time frame, much less in a two-hour drive back to Macon. I must have fallen asleep before the guys got back. I hear them loudly climb on the bus, and I sit up and rub the sleep out of my eyes.

  “Sorry, we woke you, kid,” Koi says, and they all quiet down.

  “Don’t be on your best behavior on my account.” I smile. “I figure it has been way too long, and the least I can do is stay up all night and play cards and get drunk with you rejects.”

  “Cards?” Kip asks hopefully.

  At the same time, we all yell, “Bullshit!”

  Cam hands me a shot, and we start the night off with whiskey before switching to beer.

  “Since it is your first night back with us, the honor of the first toast goes to you, Hen,” Cam says.

  I raise my glass and say the first words that come to mind. “Peace, love, and rock-’n’-roll.” We all clink glasses and throw them back.

  We play Bullshit for hours, and it comes down to me against Jag. Koi and Cam retreat to bed as soon as they are out. Kip falls asleep on the couch not long after.

  Jag kicks his foot. “Take your ass to bed before I have to hear about how you have a crick in your neck tomorrow.”

  Kip stands, stretches, and fires back. “Yeah, I got a crick for you asshole. You know it’s only fair for me to take some of your cards, otherwise you can’t truly bullshit each other.” He snatches Jag’s hand from him and takes some cards after careful consideration. “May I see your cards, lovely lady?” I hand over my cards.

  “You just snatched mine. You didn’t ask nicely.” Jag says.

  “Well, you don’t have a nice rack like Hen does, now do you?” Kip says with a grin.

  “Valid point.” Jag agrees.

  “I heard that. Go to bed before I beat your skinny ass,” Koi yells from his bunk.

  Kip retreats to the bathroom and then to his bunk.

  “Two twos,” I say as I lay my cards face down on the discard pile. Jag looks me over for a beat.

  “Hmm,” he says.

  Shit, I’m drunk. I know my poker face isn’t at its best.

  “Bullshit,” he says, knowing that I’m lying.

  I laugh and pick up the entire discarded deck. “Asshole,” I murmur.

  “Hey, don’t get all mad because you have a tell,” he replies to my insult.

  “I don’t have a tell,” I say. “And if I do, it’s because I’m drunk.”

  “You do have a tell. Not many people see it. It’s more pronounced when you’re drunk, but it is still there even when you are stone-cold sober, sweetheart.”

  “Sweetheart?” I lift my eyebrow at him. Shit, am I flirting with Jagger Carlyle?

  “You don’t like when I call you sweetheart?” he asks with mischief in his voice.

  “No, I’m not a sweetheart kinda girl.”

  “What kinda girl are you?”

  “Well, you seem to have your own ideas after the Spin cover. Why don’t you tell me?” I flirt.

  Something changes in his eyes. If I hadn’t been looking directly at him, I would’ve missed it. He doesn’t say a word. He looks instead down at his cards. Do they hold the answers?

  “Jag?”

  “You don’t want to know what I think, Henley. Can we just leave it at that? Shit, I really am tired. Care if we finish this game tomorrow?” He refuses to make eye contact with me.

  “Sure.” I swallow my hurt feelings. I don’t know why they are hurt, but they are.

  I make my way to the bunks and quickly realize I don’t know which one is mine. Jag comes up behind me. “Yours is on the bottom like you like it. I remember that you like to hear the bus,” he says.

  I can’t look him in the face, but I whisper a thank you, and climb in my bunk. I won’t forget my place again. I won’t forget that this attraction is one-way. I can’t believe I let myself think all of Jagger’s touches could mean something more than the friendship we share. He looks at me like a sister. I shoved my wounded pride down and found sleep.

  Chapter 7

  I HEAR MY NAME. Ouch, my head hurts. Damn you, Crown Royal.

  “Hen-ley!” Kip sings from his bunk above.

  “Kip,” I groan.

  “Good. You’re awake.”

  “I am now. Thanks for the wake-up call,” I shoot back.

  “Not a problem. I bet you are thinking... ‘Then what the hell is the problem, Kip?’ Well, I will tell you. I woke up to the most magnificent morning wood. I turn to look at the top of my bunk where your magazine pictures are ceremoniously placed, and I think about rubbing one out, but then I think to myself. ‘Kip, why would you do that when the real thing is right under you?’ Good thinking, right? So, I was wondering if you could somehow reenact one of these sexy poses, you little vixen. Then can I come on your leg? I mean I would ask for intercourse, but with your brother on the bus, I think it’s just plain disrespectful. We can get to that later tonight, kitten.”

  “Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Koi asks from his bunk.

  Cam and Jag are laughing from their bunks.

  “You know what, Koi? I’m telling your mom. Henley and I are having a very serious conversation. We are having a moment, and you just interrupted us. Didn’t your mom ever tell you not to interrupt adults when they are talking?” Kip replies.

  “Yeah, I would like to have my mom and dad present when you repeat the conversation you forced Henley into.” Koi laughs.

  I can just imagine the looks on my parent’s face, right before my dad decks him.

  “Koi, I’m of the belief that your parents would understand our conversation. They would love to have me as their son-in-law. I’m lying here, pouring out my heart and soul to Henley. I’m showing her mad love and romance and all that shit, and you just rained on our parade. You should really get laid. Don’t be angry about our love.”

  The sad thing is, Kip is probably saying all of this with a straight face.

  “I swear to God, if you marry that asshat, Henley, I will disown you,” Koi says.

  I open the curtain to my bunk. “Kip, I really appreciate your romantic notions. Really, I do. I’m just not ready for a committed relationship. It’s not you; it’s me. Maybe one day, when I really am ready to give you everything you deserve, we can try a relationship. Can we still be friends?” I ask.

  Th
e guys all burst out into a fit of laughter. Kip is silent until they are finished. “What I’m hearing is, we can have raw sex, porn-star style, until you are ready to give me your heart too?”

  I hear and see Koi’s feet hit the floor from above Jag’s bunk. I see him reach through what has to be Kip’s bunk above mine, and Kip begins yelling. “Stop it, you heartless pig. Henley will be mad if you hurt my nipples. She likes to suck them. Tell him, Henley!” Then I hear Kip really let out a yelp, and I know Koi has given him the titty twister of a lifetime.

  I push out of the bunk to make a trip to the bathroom. When I exit, the guys are all seated in the common area in the front of the bus. Kip is still rubbing his nipple. He smirks and winks when he sees me.

  “Darling, I really think you should talk to Koi about us. He needs to find peace with our relationship. He really hurt my feelings when he assaulted my nipple. I would like an apology,” Kip says.

  I ignore his sarcasm and turn to the cupboards. I need coffee and Advil. “You have to be fucking kidding me.” I murmur when my search turns up empty. I lean my head down to the counter with my head in my hands.

  “See, Koi; you hurt her feelings too. You should apologize,” Kip says.

  I stand up straight, turn to Kip and give him my serious face. “Kip darling, I love you. I adore you, even, but I need you to shut up until I can get coffee and Advil.” The guys crack up. “How is it that you four have managed to live on this godforsaken bus without coffee and Advil?”

  “Why does the bus have to be godforsaken, pumpkin?” Kip asks.

  I point my fingers at him. “Shut your hole now. I mean it, Kip. If you think what Koi did is hurtful, I will do the same to your dick if you say One. More. Word.” He pretends to zip his lips and throw away the key. Then he winks at me. I can deal with winks.