“Can’t little Miss Hot Ass give you a blowjob to loosen you up?”
“You want me to go down into the crowd and have her blow me?” I said in exasperation. Andy had the best seats. They weren’t exactly seats but she’d be front and center. She could’ve stayed back here but she wanted to see us the entire time.
“Oh, shit. Forgot,” Memphis mumbled.
I flipped him off, reaching for a blunt. “Guess this will have to do.” It came out as a grumble, one that reminded me just how blue my balls had been. I lit up and inhaled it, wanting to suck the life out of the little thing that gave me so much peace.
Stony came over to me, grabbing the joint from my hand and throwing his head back. “Fuck, I haven’t had one in a week,” he complained, taking another puff before passing it back to me. He smiled at me when I didn’t respond.
“Yeah, yeah, grumpy bastard. You don’t like sharing.”
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with Cars and Carrig?” I deflected, reminded of the way I’d always share my joints with Cars. Stony looked at me, his expression morphing. It reminded me of myself in high school, keeping Carson’s secrets when it would be easier to just let them out.
I pulled out my phone, texting Cars as Stony warily watched me. Going to tell me if you’re fucking my bandmates yet?
Really, this again? If he were here, he’d have groaned, acting like a child being pestered about having to do the dishes.
Yeah, Cars. Carrig has been weird as fuck since I made a joke, I typed out, reminded that I hadn’t told him before.
Let me guess, you insinuated I was fucking Stony?
Hit the nail on the head there.
I’m going to hit you on the fucking head, Mads. Stop meddling. Let it be.
So, there is a story there...
What did I just say? I laughed, Stony narrowed his gaze at me as he looked at my phone. Turning the screen upward, I hid the messages from his nosy ass.
That you’re an asshole and you miss me? I tried not sounding indignant, lightening the mood. The dots indicating he was typing popped up and disappeared just as quickly.
“I knew he fucked him,” I muttered conspiratorially, wanting a reaction. Stony’s eyes widened, but I knew I wasn’t incorrect. Cars wouldn’t freak out unless they fucked around.
Whether it was sex, a handy, or something more, there was something going on between them. Stony stared behind me and then closed his eyes. “Not my place.” There was something there too. The way his fists clenched and his jaw ticked. Whatever was between the three of them, I only needed to make sure they didn’t hurt Cars. If he was happy, I was happy.
He walked off, right before the announcer said our name.
I never stopped missing you, Mads. Go kick some ass before I’m forced to kick yours, Carson’s last text read, reminding me how much I loved performing. It kept me alive, just like he and Andy once did.
The guys and I did a thick layer of liner and patchy eyeshadow, then went on the stage before the curtains rose.
This crowd would be our bitch.
Chapter Forty
Stabbing in the Dark – Ice Nine Kills
Andy
My breath caught as the curtains fell and the lights flashed with the aggressive beat of the band.
We rise and fall
Justice for the unjust
We will kill you all
Blood will be sought
Blood will be spilled
They roared the lyrics. The growl in Madden’s voice, backed by Stony and Memphis, sent chills down my spine. They flared across my body as the lights changed colors, smoke lighting the room in a glowy mist. My skin prickled with awareness as he stared at me before shooting a huge smile at the crowd. The lights strobed again, blue and red as they began the growling part of the song.
Bloodshed!
They!
Will!
Die!
Madden’s vocals brought me the type of comfort only metalcore music offered. It was like extending the roots of your soul to the ground, a tree delving itself deep into the core of the earth, having its foundation shaken while you dug a little deeper for stability.
We rise and fall
Justice for the unjust
We will kill you all
Blood will be sought
Blood will be spilled
I jumped with the crowd as they went crazy, absorbing the frenetic energy of the music just like me. Turning around, I glanced at the big circle forming, noticing a mosh pit swarming with moving bodies, they smiled and screamed the words with the band. It felt like home, a riot of music, screams, and heavy bass.
Turning back to Madden, he jumped onto the speaker box at the front, banging his head while he let out guttural nonsensical grunts with the drums and aggressive guitar notes.
He jumped back, throwing his head back and exposing the throat I wanted to lick and taste and mark with my own imprint so he’d never pick anyone but me.
Don’t run, poor lamb
The dark doesn’t hide you
Justice will prevail
Blood for blood
In the end
We all kill!
Madden gripped the mic, his throat constricted while his voice carried, coiling around me. I’d never felt so aroused in my life watching him be passionate so close, knowing I’d be going home with him.
Me.
No one but me.
He rushed toward Memphis, sharing his mic with him and finishing the last chords of the song, all while the lights went up and down the stage with each beat, not missing a single one.
Bloodshed!
They!
Will!
Die!
Their first show went spectacularly. The crowd raged with the lyrics, the pain and sorrow wrapped in barbed wire tones hit my ears as it went on. I’d never felt so enraptured at a show until this night. Madden was a sight and the others outperformed themselves too, it was like all the passion they were missing showed up on stage tonight.
Seeing it from this perspective instead of backstage was my favorite part. Madden looked like pure sex under the cast of lights and I wanted to bend over for him every single time he bit his lip and his eyes found mine.
Fuck, he did that a lot.
It felt like when he flirted with me without using words, the tension he gave his fans was as hot as the bubble between us the last few days.
I hadn’t mentioned this to him, but his manager hated me.
That much was apparent in her reactions when we met.
As soon as she got here, Madden’s manager was spitting rules, curfews, and regulations on drinking and drugs. Knowing Madden and how much he hated rules, it wasn’t a shock to me that he argued with her outright.
She might’ve been their manager in the sense of scheduling, mom-ing them, but she wasn’t getting their royalties.
From the get-go, Madden paid for it all, affording limitless access to everything needed. She was a face, a director of sorts, and I was close to telling Madden to fire her. It was obvious, the way she looked at him that there was something there.
I knew he didn’t fuck her, he didn’t fuck at all. And while the inner most broken part of me wondered and battled with the intrusive thoughts of what if he lied, I knew he wouldn’t. It eased my constant jealousy as she pointed and directed, forcing him away from me when he argued and did the opposite.
The first day alone, I sat in the hotel the entire time, texting Madden with how lonely and insufferable I felt. He didn’t let me orgasm and as much as I wanted to rub one out, knowing he’d be giving me that sweet release was enough to keep me quiet.