Victory RUN: Collected Victory RUN 1, 2, 3

by Devon Hartford

  “Make it two,” Liv quips, “And you have a deal.”

  Tall Biker grins, “You got it.”

  They walk us back inside.

  Although they buy drinks for me and Liv, so many other people want to talk to us about our performance and congratulate us, it’s impossible to talk to just our two biker buddies. Luckily, they’re cool, and roll with it.

  I thought Kellan was going to be the big star tonight, but who knew this biker crowd loved a good broken hearted ballad? I guess it helps that Liv’s Go-Go outfit is barely legal and I don’t look half bad myself. I’m just wearing a skin tight Avenged Sevenfold shirt that is sized for a twelve year old and spandex jeans, but the jeans highlight my hips and legs as much as they cover them.

  At one point, I notice with amusement that Liv is the only color in a sea of black leather and dark denim. I’d bet my paycheck she planned it this way.

  But I’m getting my own fair share of male attention.

  Kellan squeezes into the crowd surrounding me and Liv holding a beer bottle. He says, “I knew you were going to be incredible.”

  “Thanks,” I grin. “Did you want to show your appreciation by buying me a drink?”

  “Glad to,” he chuckles. “What are you drinking?”

  “Oh, I’m kidding. I’ve already had a hundred people offer me drinks already. I have to drive home.”

  “You want water?”

  “No, thanks,” I smile. “You guys were pretty amazing yourselves.”

  Kellan nods, “Thanks.”

  He’s wearing a shirt right now, but still has on the rocker leather pants and boots.

  “Your bass player and your drummer were incredible.” I glance around the bar, “Are they here? I’d love to meet them.”

  “Dubs and Joa took off,” Kellan says.

  “How come?”

  “Would you believe Dubs had another gig tonight?”

  “Which one was he?”

  “The bass player. He has a Reggae band called The Revelers.”

  I smile, “That’s awesome. I love that he does both hard rock and Reggae.”

  “I do too,” Kellan grins.

  “Did you write those songs since you guys formed the band? Or were they old tunes you had in your back pocket?”

  “Some of it was old riffs or lyrics, but a lot of it was new. Something about writing with Switchblade and the boys was incredibly easy.”

  I feel a pinch of jealousy. Sure, Liv and I did great, but Sunset Farewell was the only thing that got a response from the crowd, and it was mostly her singing that did it. A power ballad is always about the vocalist.

  Kellan smiles, “Your solo on that ballad was incredible. You did some really gutsy playing. My jaw was dropped the whole time.” He’s totally sincere.

  Why does Kellan have to be so damn nice? And handsome? Where is that Switchblade? I remember Liv mentioning conking her over the head and burying her body in the desert outside Vegas.

  “Speaking of guitar solos,” I say, “how come you didn’t play any?”

  “Ahh, I was too busy working on the songs. I let Switchblade handle them.”

  Switchblade again. I may as well accept it. And she really is a great guitarist. If I don’t hold her relationship with Kellan against her, I could easily learn a thing or ten from her.

  “So,” I sigh, “Where is Switchblade? I wanted to ask her how her audition with Wild Child went.”

  “Didn’t I tell you?”

  “Nuh uh.”

  Kellan grins, “Switchblade got the gig!”

  “What!” I’m shocked.

  “Yeah,” Kellan laughs, “she blew them away. That’s why she went home already. She has to jump on a plane first thing tomorrow morning to catch up with the band in Detroit.”

  Wait a second. Do I tell Kellan what happened between me and Danny Daggers? Is Switchblade walking into a viper’s den without realizing it? I have to say something, “Um, I hope it’s not too late, but does Switchblade know that Danny Daggers is basically an amateur rapist?”

  Kellan is taken aback, “What?”

  “He came on to me during my audition.”

  “He what?”

  I nod.

  Liv tugs at my arm, “Do you want another drink?”

  “No. I’m good,” I smile. “Are you doing okay?”

  “I have three marriage proposals. Two from cute guys, one from a woman who owns a Harley. Do I say yes?”

  “To the woman with the Harley?” I ask.

  “No, silly! All three!”

  I giggle, “Go with the tarantula.”

  She wrinkles her nose and sinks back into her crowd of biker admirers.

  I say to Kellan, “What was I saying?”

  He prompts, “About Danny Daggers? The rapist?”

  “Oh yeah. During my audition, he totally tried to grope me so I decked him.”

  Kellan laughs, “You did not deck him!"

  “Yes, I did,” I say defensively.

  “Like, you punched him in the face and he fell down on his ass?”

  “Not exactly fell. But he stumbled, and I know I gave him a shiner,” I grin proudly.

  “How would you know if you gave someone a shiner?” Kellan gawks.

  “Want me to show you?” I hold up a fist.

  He shakes his head, “I’ll take your word for it. But you actually punched him in the face?”

  I nod confidently.

  “That deserves a bump,” he holds up his fist and I punch it casually.

  “So,” I say, “do you need to warn Switchblade? I’d hate to see her get sexually harassed by a bunch of rich asshole rockstars.”

  “I don’t think you need to worry.” He tips back his bottle of beer and swallows.

  “Why not?”

  “Switchblade told me Daggers came on to her too.”

  “What a prick. What did she do?”

  "She said she’d fuck him, but he’d have to pay her an extra $50,000. If he wanted to fuck her twice, it was going to be an extra $100,000. She also warned him that he couldn’t afford to fuck her three times, but after fucking her twice, he would want to, and she hated the idea of bankrupting him, but she’d totally do it to get the gig.”

  I chuckle, “Wow, and she still got the job?”

  “Of course she did,” Kellan grins and swallows more beer.

  “I like her style,” I say thoughtfully. “Does that mean she fucked Danny Daggers?”

  Kellan laughs, “Not even.”

  I ask coyly, “So, are you going to miss Switchblade while she’s gone?”

  “I guess so. Why?”

  “Aren’t you guys going out?”

  Kellan frowns, “Where’d you get that idea?”

  “I see you guys together all the time. She’s really into you. It’s obvious.”

  Kellan shakes his head, “Switchblade is gay.”

  “No way!”

  Kellan nods.

  “You’re not going out with her?”

  He shakes his head, “You seem surprised.”

  “I am. I just thought, I mean, you guys seem to really like each other.”

  “No doubt. Switchblade is a really cool chick. I’m totally gonna miss having her in the band and as a friend. But what can I do?”

  I can think of a few things Kellan can do about it…

  He finishes, “Anyway, people come and people go. I can’t hold onto someone who wants to go.” He gazes down at me with his burning brown eyes.

  Is he talking about me or Switchblade?

  I smile up at him and he gives me an unintentionally sexy look which is undeniably heart stopping. I say unintentional because Kellan never has to try and he’s simply damn sexy. Although he’s wearing a t-shirt now, I remember how hot he was onstage earlier when all his muscles were flexing as he strummed his guitar. His dancing abs were a show unto themselves.

  And now that I know Kellan isn’t dating Switchblade, and never was, maybe I need to re-evaluate my position on me and K
ellan.

  His eyes search mine.

  Mine search his.

  My chest warms with a pleasant peacefulness as the crowded and raucous surroundings of The Dive Bomb fade into a fuzzy background blur.

  The only thing that exists in this moment is me and Kellan.

  Kellan brushes his fingertips down my forearm.

  Chills tickle my skin where he touched me, but the rest of my body blossoms with warmth and yearning.

  He leans toward me.

  Is he going to kiss me?

  He smiles softly.

  I think he is.

  I want him to.

  His fingers lace with mine and we are holding hands.

  It feels so right, so intimate, and so incredibly perfect…

  Why did I ever push him away?

  His lips are inches from mine…

  “There you are,” Scott stumbles out of the crowd and into my face, wearing his Elton John shades and fur coat. He’s drunk. Not falling-down plastered, but lit for sure.

  Fucking Scott.

  He always ruins everything, even when he’s not involved. I scowl at him. How did I ever think he was handsome?

  Scott looks at Kellan and points at him with the brown beer bottle in his hand, “I remember you.”

  Kellan nods dismissively, “And you’re the guy who was heckling Victory when she was onstage. So get the fuck out of here.”

  “Fuck you, man,” Scott spits. “She’s my girlfriend.”

  I laugh in Scott’s face, “Are you kidding? What happened to your date? Did you forget her already?” I don’t add that she was entirely forgettable, except for her tits and vacant stare. Cackle, cackle, cackle. Maybe she went home with a hot biker and left Scott high and dry.

  Scott sneers at me.

  I ask, “What do you want, Scott?”

  “You.”

  I laugh again and shake my head. “Don’t you remember how you kicked me out of the band?”

  His brows knit, “You want back in?”

  My eyes goggle, “No?”

  “I can’t find a decent guitar player.”

  I growl, “I thought you said they were a dime a dozen in L.A.”

  “Not good ones,” he sniffs.

  “Oh,” I bluster, “now you need me? You are a fucking prick, Scott.”

  “I have a fucking prick,” he grins stupidly.

  I grimace, “Get out of here, Scott. You had your chance not to be a worthless asshole, but you weren’t up for the challenge because you’re the least valuable asshole on the entire planet.”

  Kellan chuckles at my wordplay.

  “Fuck you,” Scott snarls at Kellan.

  Kellan asks me, “Why did you ever date this douche, Gigi?”

  I like that he called me G.G. Guitar Goddess. Kellan is the best. I chuckle, “I can’t answer that without sounding like an idiot.”

  “Come on, Vic,” Scott whines. “Come back to our apartment. I haven’t changed the place.”

  “Don’t call me Vic, you prick. And I’m not going back to your shithole.”

  Scott gestures with his beer bottle, “You know you miss it. You miss us.”

  I laugh.

  Scott grabs my elbow, “Let’s go, honey.”

  Kellan drops a heavy hand on Scott’s shoulder, “Back off, Scott. She’s not interested.”

  Scott twists out from under Kellan’s hand and slams his beer bottle against the closest bar table. Glass tinkles to the floor. He waves the remnants of the jagged bottle in Kellan’s face menacingly.

  The crowd opens, forming a wide circle around the arc of Scott’s waving arm. Conversation stops. The only sound in the bar is the music on the house P.A.

  Everyone stares at Scott.

  I can see that he is acutely aware of his audience. He is a consummate showman. But he’s not a fighter.

  Kellan chuckles, “Dude, do you look like you can kick my ass? I don’t think so. Put the bottle down before you make a fool of yourself.”

  Scott is suddenly seething mad. His eyes are wild and his mouth quivers like crazy. He’s winding himself up. I know the look. He’s going to explode in a second. It’s his only fighting strategy. Right now, that’s probably a bad idea.

  I’ve never seen Kellan fight, but he looks like he knows how. And he’s much bigger and more muscular than Scott.

  I don’t want Scott to get hurt or accidentally cut me or an innocent bystander. Well, I wouldn’t mind seeing Scott get hurt. But the broken bottle in his hand is a problem. Without realizing it, I slip into my well-worn “placate Scott” tone of voice. I say softly, “Scott, don’t.”

  Scott pauses, his eyes blinking, and looks at me with sadness on his face. His features soften and he’s the handsome man I remember. Almost angelic. I loved him for two years. I probably fell in love with him long before that, before we started Skin Trade and officially started dating. Right now, he’s pathetic. I can’t help feeling bad for him.

  But it only takes a second to remember him for what he truly is: troubled, irritable, short tempered, and a deceitful liar. More than anything, I want to turn my back on him and walk away.

  But he’s still waving that sharded bottle around dangerously.

  Kellan says, “Put the bottle down, Scott.”

  Scott’s face twists in agony. He growls at me then turns on Kellan.

  Kellan asks, “Have you stopped to ask yourself how stupid it is starting a bar fight wearing a fur coat and sunglasses? How well can you move or even see?”

  Scott grunts and lunges at Kellan, leading with the bottle.

  Kellan does this spinning move, pivoting his torso out of the bottle’s trajectory and gripping the back of Scott’s straightened elbow with one hand, yanking Scott forward and off balance while hammering Scott’s head with the bottom of his fist like a falling hammer.

  It all happens in half a second.

  Scott drops like a bag of butter, knocking over a barstool that clatters to the floor while the jagged bottle top spins across the room into a corner.

  Scott is out cold.

  “Holy shit!” I blurt.

  The crowd in the bar cheers.

  Someone shouts, “You da man, Kellan!”

  Kellan rolls his eyes. “We should go in case someone calls the cops. I don’t want to be here if they do.”

  “Who’s gonna call the cops?” I ask. “You’re a hero!”

  “You never know,” he says, leading me by the hand out the front door.

  I go willingly.

  Chapter 107

  VICTORY

  “Where’s Liv?!” I say to Kellan as we stumble onto the sidewalk outside The Dive Bomb.

  His eyes flash, “I’ll go get her.”

  I fold my arms and wait.

  Seemingly seconds later, Kellan walks out the bar with Liv tossed over his shoulder. Her bare Go-Go booted legs dangle in front of him. Her psychedelic dress is so short I can see her fuchsia thong, which matches her boots.

  The current group of bikers smoking outside stare appreciatively at Liv’s basically naked ass. I try to pull her dress down to cover it, but it’s too short.

  “Shall we go?” Kellan asks me.

  “Are you kidnapping me, Aiden?” Liv asks.

  Kellan grins and shakes his head.

  “No, Liv,” I say, “you’re not being kidnapped.”

  Disappointed, Liv whines, “Oh!”

  I say to Kellan, “Maybe you should put her down?”

  Liv lifts her head, hair dangling in her face, “I’m fine right here.”

  Kellan snickers, “I think she might be drunk.”

  “You think?” I say sarcastically.

  “Which way?” Kellan asks, turning right and left uncertainly.

  Liv’s fuchsia Go-Go booted legs swing back and forth each time Kellan rotates. She squeals whimsically, “Weeeee!!!”

  I roll my eyes and point, “I’m parked that way.”

  We walk toward my Altima.

  “Vee!” Liv hisses.
“Vee!”

  “What?”

  She props herself up against Kellan’s back on an elbow so her head’s not upside down while he bounces her along. Her hair drapes in her face in strings.

  I push aside a random strand.

  “Vee!” she hisses again, “Aiden is kidnapping me!” Her face is one big happy drunk smile.

  I snicker, “Should I call the cops?”

  “No!” she gasps.

  While Kellan and I walk, Liv rambles, “…if you plan on tying me up, Aiden, use soft rope. I have tender skin. But you can do whatever you want to me after that. I promise I won’t tell.” Her head bounces while Kellan walks. “Can I keep him, Vee? Aiden is really hot.” She makes a big O face when she says the word hot.

  Kellan chuckles.

  We stop in front of my Altima. I open the passenger door and Kellan pours Liv into the seat.

  Liv reaches out to him with a noodley arm and pleads, “Don’t go, Aiden!”

  Kellan grins at me.

  I glance at his smiling eyes, “I should probably take her home.”

  Liv slurs, “Don’t cock block me, Vee! Aiden is taking me home!” She leans out of the car and nearly falls face first on the sidewalk, but Kellan swoops beneath her and catches her. He smoothes her back in the seat and buckles the shoulder belt around her.

  Liv giggles, “Tying me up already?”

  Kellan chuckles as he stands up.

  “Don’t go, Aiden!” Liv cries.

  Kellan asks me, “Are you going to need any help getting her out of the car?”

  “I can manage.”

  Liv barks, “No she can’t! Aiden has to come with us!”

  I consider it, but my backseat is full of amps. “There’s not really room, Liv.”

  Kellan says, “I can follow in my car and help if you need it.”

  One look at his friendly and heartbreakingly handsome face and all I can say is, “Okay.”

  Kellan looks around, “Ah, my car is like four blocks that way.”

  Four minutes later, I’m behind the wheel of my Altima and Kellan sits in the passenger seat with Liv in his lap curled around him.

  Liv’s arms are draped around Kellan’s muscular tanned neck. She coos, “He’s even more handsome up close, Vee. His skin looks like caramel. I wonder if it tastes like caramel…” She licks Kellan’s cheek.

  Kellan winces comically and leans away.