Rock Me Deep

by Nora Flite

  - Chapter Nineteen -

  Drezden

  The venue, a bar known as Belly Up, was surrounded by eager fans. I could see them all from the window of the bus. Though I was sure they couldn't see me, it was clear many of them were trying.

  “You want to head out there?”

  It was Colt who'd spoke. I didn't spare him a glance. “I want Brenda to answer her damn phone is what I want.”

  Crouching low, the drummer's ear-gauge swung in my face; it no longer sported a bandage from the bar fight with Johnny. “She isn't answering for a reason.”

  “No shit,” I mumbled. “It's the 'reason' that worries me.”

  “You try to call Lola?”

  My fingers traced the hard lump of my cell phone in my pocket. Three fucking times. I called her over and over, she didn't pick up once. “Yes."

  Colt tapped his nails to an unheard rhythm. For some time it was the only noise; that, and the muffled roar of the crowd outside. “Listen,” he started, speaking more to the window than me, “You can't sit here worrying. They're fine, just running late. Brenda was pissed at you earlier, right? I bet she isn't picking up because of that.”

  I considered him thoughtfully. “And Lola? What's her reason?”

  “I—look, Drez.” He sighed heavily. “I don't know. Maybe she's just busy, or maybe Brenda won't let her answer. That's possible, yeah?”

  Leaning away from the window, my tiny frown grew. Could Brenda do that? This morning, Brenda had made it clear she wanted us to pretend that Lola and I hadn't hooked up. I'd told her I wouldn't. If I knew anything about Brenda, it was that she was stubborn as me.

  Fuck. Is she trying to force a wedge between us? Colt might be right about this.

  I noticed he was grinning triumphantly, like he'd read my face and realized I agreed with him. Standing with a groan, I said, “Since our attentive manager isn't here with those groceries, want to go find something to eat before sound check?”

  “Hell yeah!” Laughing openly, Colt stood and cracked his back. “Hey, Porter!” The bassist craned his head out from his room. “Come on, let's go get some grub. I'm starving.”

  As a group, we stepped out of the bus. The wave of screams welcomed us to the world, security holding back the throngs of attendees with quickly constructed barriers. Girls thrust signs in the air, each proclaiming their love for the band, or for me, specifically.

  Porter and Colt were more generous with their returned smiles than I was. Even under the energy of our adoring fans, my mind was stuck on where Lola could be. Not knowing was poison in my blood. It gnawed deep and there was no antidote.

  Rounding the corner, we vanished behind the building. Trailers and food trucks filled the parking lot; enticing, greasy smells softened my worries. A hamburger won't make me think about Lola any less. That didn't stop me from grabbing one from a cart.

  Digging into my back pocket for my wallet, I tried to yank it free in between bites of food. A hand, coming down hard on my shoulder, froze me. “Here, I'll get that for you,” Sean said.

  Lola's brother.

  “There.” He tossed a five-dollar bill at the vendor while wearing a huge smile. “That should cover it.”

  I had a strong feeling that he was putting on an act, and I trusted my instincts more than I trusted him. Pushing backwards, not hiding my suspicion, I glared at the guitarist. Sean was shorter than me, but not by much. “I don't need your charity.” Hamburger juice dripped down my wrist; I ignored it.

  His smile wavered. “No shit. It's called being nice. Familiar with it?”

  In my peripheral vision, Colt and Porter appeared. Likewise, the vaguely familiar members of Barbed Fire moved in behind Sean. I didn't know them well, but in the rising static tension, I noted the size of the long-haired blonde on the left. The drummer, if I'm right. My eyes moved slowly the other way. And that skinny-fuck there must be the singer.

  “So you're being nice to me,” I said, not tempering my distaste. “Why, what do you want?” There's no way he doesn't know about what happened last night. Was Sean the kind of brother that would think I'd corrupted his sister, taken advantage of her or some shit?

  Sean lifted his chin, eyes—blue as anything and too similar to Lola's—rolling to Colt, then to Porter, before falling back on me. “You're acting like it's weird for me to be nice to you.”

  I took another bite of my burger, my silence a good enough answer.

  He continued staring me down. I half expected him to throw a punch. This guy, I wasn't convinced he didn't hate my guts. He had a few good reasons to.

  I finished my meal before he finally spoke again. That was good; I'd have choked otherwise. “Listen,” he mumbled, looking away awkwardly. “Lola won't answer my calls. Okay? I just want to talk to her. Could you get her out of the bus for me?”

  The food felt like it was caught low in my throat. “She won't answer your calls, either?”

  Sean jerked his head around, shock openly glistening in his eyes. It unnerved me, again, how similar they were to the girl I was obsessed with. “Lola isn't with you?”

  “She went with Brenda to grab us some supplies earlier,” Porter said, stepping forward. “They probably just got caught up in something. I'm sure they're fine.”

  Sean coiled his fingers in my bassist's shirt, yanking him so they were nose to nose. It was quick, too quick for anyone to react to. “How the hell would you know if they're fine? Tell me where they fucking went!”

  The guy had some muscle on him, but I didn't think he was a threat to Porter.

  I still didn't like him touching my fucking friend.

  Guided by the anxiousness that had plagued me since Lola left this morning, I snatched Sean's wrist, yanking him off the bassist as my fingers dug into his skin. “Back the fuck off, man. You don't want to get physical here.”

  “Aren't you even worried about her?” he spat, trying to wrench himself free from me. To his credit, Sean was strong.

  I was just stronger.

  Pulling him towards me in one smooth motion, I shoved him down onto the pavement. He landed hard on his hands and knees. “Of course I'm fucking worried!” Sean had given me a place to aim my rapidly growing delusions about what had happened to Lola. My body heated with the familiar tingle of adrenaline fueled fight-or-flight.

  The scar on my lower back burned.

  Sean started to get up; the big blonde guy moved closer. I thought he was going to help his band-mate, but instead, he swung one meaty fist at my skull. Desperately, I started to dodge. It wasn't necessary.

  Colt slammed into the guy's blindside, his arms tangling around his waist as they hit the rough parking lot. All sinew and grunts, they rolled into a violent knot of punches and kicks.

  Sean was still on his knees, his fingers burying in his scalp while he yelled frantically at the wrestling men. “Shark! Back the hell off, man! Stay out of this!”

  Both of them ignored the shouts, the big guy—Shark, I guess—pushing his bicep against Colt's throat. I started to close in, unable to resist any longer, especially not when my friend's face was turning purple.

  Porter and the last, unnamed member of Barbed Fire beat me. Together, they pulled the guys apart. The fight could have ended there. I knew it could be done with.

  But I was done standing around.

  Reaching down, I grabbed Sean Cooper by the hair and squeezed. His hiss of surprised pain was intoxicating. “Listen,” I growled into his ear. “If this is your idea of what being nice means, then I can get right fucking behind it.”

  His fingers dug into my forearm; I didn't feel the skin break. “Let me the fuck go!”

  In my chest, my lungs rattled with my hunger for chaos. I had Sean at my mercy. I knew I could slam him into the ground, break his jaw, make him taste his own rusty blood. My hands became claws, my desire to hear his nose cartilage crumble as I drove it into my knee and—

  “I'm just looking for my sister!”

  Inside, the beast retreated. Crouched t
here, hovering over Sean with my own heart throbbing in my ears, I felt the eyes on me. Everyone was watching. Waiting. No one had the guts to try and get between me and Sean.

  In my skull, his shout bounced around and never ended. That's right. He's right. He's just trying to find Lola.

  Just like I am.

  There was a soreness in my hand when I released his hair. Those muscles felt too tight, like they weren't meant to be opened. We stood up simultaneously, the pressure around us fading. Colt and Shark huddled with Porter and the skinny singer, the four of them looking less like enemies, more like soldiers waiting to be told what to do.

  Touching a palm to his skull, Sean glared at me indignantly. There it was; the look he'd given me way back during his audition. I hadn't deserved it, then. But now, maybe I do. Inhaling until I felt on the edge of popping, I breathed out through my nose. “That got out of control,” I said flatly.

  “You think?” Eyeing his hand, as if he expected—and was surprised not to—see blood, Sean snorted. “Your temper is off the wall.”

  “You were the one who started it,” Porter said, his shoulders crawling upwards. “Drez was just reacting.”

  “Dude's just looking for Lola,” Shark replied. He began to say more, but Sean silenced him with a wave of his fingers.

  The vibrant battle lust drained from me bit by bit. I felt so fucking tired. “Next time just come out and ask us where she is, like a normal person.”

  “Normal?” Sean lifted his eyebrows, not elaborating. “Here's the situation. My sister is missing, and she's your guitarist. Sound check is in thirty minutes. If she doesn't show soon, what happens? Even if she's fine, you guys can't play without her.”

  A cold spike trickled down my back. “That's our concern, not yours.” Isn't it? Peeking at Colt and Porter, I wondered if they had the same suspicion I did. Why would Sean give a shit about if we were playing or not?

  I battled the urge to probe further. The issue was moot, luckily, when a familiar car roared into the parking lot. As one, we all twisted to follow the vehicle until it halted a few feet away. Before anyone climbed from the car, I was moving.

  Lola managed to crack the door, starting to unbuckle. “Drez—” Pushing her in the seat, I ended my name on her tongue with a kiss. Under my touch, she twitched and melted with rising excitement. I could sense her tensing, feel her muscles giving way. It was good that she was sitting.

  “That's a nice way to say hello,” Brenda said. I didn't bother looking at my manager. I was too eager to fill my vision with this beautiful fucking girl. The burger I'd eaten had done nothing for me. She was the real cause of my famine, and now, I had her to gorge myself on. “Why don't I get greetings like that?” Brenda laughed, shutting the door loudly.

  Breaking the kiss, I thrilled at the desperate, sharp inhale Lola made. Leaning back enough to gaze on her blushing cheeks, I also saw her sparkling eyes.

  Eyes like her brother's.

  I was reminded why I'd been consumed with panic all day. “Where the hell were you?” I asked, crushing the edges of the car seat.

  Her delicious lips fell open. “Oh. It's kind of a long story. Mostly, we had a flat tire.”

  “Mostly?”

  Rubbing her tattoo, Lola glanced to the side. “Let me tell you about it later. Brenda said as we were pulling in that we need to hurry and do sound check.”

  I flushed with a million things; frustration, bitterness, and the all too powerful desire to just keep Lola right there and taste her again. Sound check. Not backing out of the open car door, I noticed Sean scowling at me from the corner of my eye. “Fine. Later. But I want to know everything.”

  Stiffening, Lola squeezed her arm again. “Sure. Okay.”

  Whatever she was worrying about, I wanted to erase it. Thumbing her lower lip, I buried my mouth on hers once more. Our tongues glided together, her moan soft, for my ears only. I felt it more than I heard it. With as much control as I could muster, I released her and backed away.

  Sliding free, Lola smoothed her hair. The glow on her skin was from me, and I reveled in it. The young woman froze, spotting her brother where he hovered nearby. “Sean?” she asked, taking a single step out of the car. “What's going on, why are you hanging out here?”

  I knew what 'here' meant; why was he hanging out with me?

  “You wouldn't answer your phone,” Sean said, palming his neck. “I got worried, thought you were avoiding me.”

  Brenda cleared her throat. “Blame me. I didn't want us worrying anyone, or for people to try and come help us despite us not needing it.” Her eyes shot to me pointedly. “We got a busted tire, took a bit for someone to come out and fix it, that's all.”

  “You couldn't have just texted me to say that's what was up?” Sean asked, wearing his hurt on his sleeve.

  “Not just that.” Shaking her head violently, Lola lifted her phone and opened it. The black screen gazed back at us. “It died early on, I forgot to charge it last night. I couldn't have said anything if I had wanted to.”

  Her phone died? The knowledge left me nervous. What if this had been an actual emergency? Reaching out, I took Lola by the wrist. “Come on, let's go.”

  “Slow down,” Sean said through gritted teeth. “I need to talk to her first!”

  “I thought you just wanted to make sure she was okay?” I asked. Keeping my hold on Lola, I peered at Sean over my shoulder. I didn't see Lola's irritation until she pulled free from me with a grunt.

  Rubbing her wrist gingerly, she frowned my way. “Let me talk to him, we can all walk over to sound check together. It won't mess up the schedule.”

  It'll take away from the time I want with just you, I thought darkly. I was being greedy, but I chose not to voice it. I'll have her to myself soon enough. “Fine.” Ruffling my hair, I glanced sideways at Sean. “Let's walk and talk, then.”

  My manager, phone to her ear, waved someone down. “In the trunk,” she said to the young man, “There's a bunch of food. Hopefully nothing went bad, it's been a bit since the store. Load it onto the bus—and you.” Those chocolate eyes stabbed at me. “We need to hurry, so less 'walk' and more 'jog' to the building.”

  Taking my eyes off of Lola and her brother, the two of them strolling with their heads together in front of me, I wrinkled my nose. “It's not my fault you're so late. Speaking of which, what the hell was that bullshit about not calling me to tell me what was wrong?”

  She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Speaking softly, Brenda leaned towards me as we walked. “Be angry at me if you want, but with all the alone time I got with Lola, she finally opened up to me. I learned... some hard stuff. I think it really helped her to get it off her chest.”

  My mind was floored. Watching the siblings, I saw how hunched Sean's shoulders were. The guy looked pissed. Abruptly, Sean broke away. The guitarist stomped off to the side, no longer heading towards the back door of Belly Up.

  “Uh oh,” Brenda mumbled next to me.

  We came to a halt beside the girl, her sapphire eyes fixed on the fleeing back of her brother. The hurt in her face was tangible. “What happened? Why'd he leave like that?” I asked, curling an arm around her waist in an attempt to comfort—or claim—her.

  “It's stupid,” she said quickly, features smoothing to hide any emotion. “He's just being a jerk. He wanted to know what went down, and I said I'd talk to him about it another time.”

  Colt, who had followed us as we moved, bent down to grab Lola's shoulder gently. “Don't let it get to you. Siblings can be real assholes to each other, take it from me.” The wink he offered softened the teasing.

  Lifting her head, Lola broke into a weak smile. “You said before that you had a brother. I remember that now. Does he get like this sometimes?”

  The lanky guy waved a hand, displaying three fingers. “I have three brothers, and two sisters.” He chuckled at Lola's amazed gawking. “And do they get like what, immature stuck up babies? Yeah, every single one of them has at some p
oint. It's normal.”

  “Hey,” I said, breaking into the discussion. “Let's just get set for the show tonight, we can worry about family dynamics when things aren't so time sensitive.”

  Covering her mouth, Brenda gasped dramatically. “Holy shit, has the real Drezden Halifax returned to us? I thought you'd been replaced by a selfish prick who didn't care about schedules anymore!”

  My eyes became slits. “I always cared.”

  Lifting her hands, she spun on a heel and opened the back door. “I could have sworn that the man I had to drag out of the hotel this morning didn't care about leaving on time. That's all I'm saying.”

  Lola and I shared a look. Her face was pink, a rose in bloom; I was sure she was thinking about what we'd done. Any anger at Brenda for busting my balls dissipated at the tiny, private smile the girl sent me.

  There were many thoughts roaming my skull that evening. Most of them suspicious, dark things that traveled from the root of my past to the dawn of my problems cropping up on this tour.

  Gripping Lola's hip, guiding her into Belly Up, I made a decision.

  She was my main thought.

  For that evening.

  And for as long as I could keep her at my side.

  - Chapter Twenty -

  Lola

  Sean wouldn't look at me during sound check.

  Every lick of music I made was haphazard, my eyes trying to force my brother's attention towards me. By the time the set was done, all I had to show for my effort was a massive migraine.

  I should have just told him. The guitar felt heavier than usual; a reminder that it, like my first, had been a gift from Sean. Should have just taken five minutes to tell him I'd gotten stalked at the mall, had a tire sabotaged, and then spilled my guts to Brenda.

  Hanging my head, I snapped the instrument's case shut. I barely got off the stage before Drezden moved beside me. His words, his heat, clung to me. “Everything alright? You seemed distracted up there.”

  Tossing a quick look at Sean across the room, I noticed Drez following my eyes. “I'm stressing over him ignoring me," I said.

  “I could drag him over here for you,” the singer said casually. I wrenched my head around to stare at him; he was smirking like a champ. “Or... you could give him some time alone to think.”