Текст книги "Vintage (Volume Two)"
Автор книги: Lisa Suzanne
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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 13 страниц)
eight
The Chicago shows were perfect. The tour took us through a journey of the Midwest to Milwaukee, Cleveland, Indianapolis, and Louisville, and then we headed toward Florida for shows in Jacksonville, Miami, and Tampa.
Randy had been unusually quiet, but it was probably because my dad had stepped up security. George was permanently on Parker and me, and in his rare absence, Bruno was on us. My dad hired a few extra men George trusted to keep all of us safe, and our rooms hadn’t been breached since the night my journal had been stolen.
Nothing changed where Jadyn was concerned. I still didn’t trust her, and I avoided her as much as I could. It was a difficult task given the fact that I was her husband’s assistant, despite the fact that George had taken over for me in the interest of Parker acting as my personal bodyguard.
I was still piecing it all together, but I had my suspicions that things weren’t over between Jadyn and Randy. Something told me she continued her involvement with him. Maybe her job was gaining information on me so Randy could make his move. Stealing my journal of all things would certainly accomplish that.
Except my journal was really just snippets of thought. The only person who would really understand its meaning was the writer.
After the night Parker had confessed his past to me, we’d managed to grow closer to the point of being inseparable. It was convenient anyway since my dad wanted him near me at all times with the exception of when he was working, which was fairly often.
I wondered often what Vinnie, Fitz, and Garrett thought about all of it. Even though Parker and I had grown close, I still didn’t know the guys very well. We tended to spend all of our free time together, mostly naked. And since our bus was separate from theirs, even though we were traveling together, I didn’t know them any better than I had before we’d left for the tour.
Our tour was nearing its end, and I wasn’t exactly sure what I was going to do with myself once it was over. Parker had started the dialogue in my mind about whether I had ambitions beyond working at Vintage, and I was sure that I did. In fact, part of me wondered if owning my own store like Vintage was a possibility. I’d surfed the website of the community college near my house, but I wasn’t even sure what degree I would need. I had no concept of how to run a store because I’d spent so much time living in my own world and not caring what came next.
It had been an empty existence living day-to-day that way, and it had taken the right person to motivate me to get out of my rut. And now that I’d opened my eyes to the fact that there could be so much more out there for me, I wanted to explore it. I wanted to take some chances and see where my ambitions took me.
But aside from a career for myself, I also wondered what was waiting back home where Randy was concerned.
“Wondered” wasn’t the right word.
“Feared” was a little closer to the truth.
I was terrified of what waited back in California, but I couldn’t dwell on it.
Even though my relationship with my dad had been strained ever since the journal incident, I trusted that he always had my back. He’d always do what was best for me, even if I didn’t like the decisions he’d made or the way he’d reacted. He’d always do whatever he could to keep me safe, as evidenced by the fact that there were always at least two people watching over me.
I missed privacy. I found myself taking extra bathroom breaks, or spending a few extra minutes in the shower (although most of the time Parker was in there with me). I knew the end of the tour didn’t necessarily spell the end of security surrounding me, but I was ready for it to be over. I was homesick. I was tired of sleeping on a bus or in a hotel. Granted, I didn’t have a lot to complain about where our hotels were concerned, but there was nothing quite like sleeping in my own bed.
With Parker.
“You ready for the last night?” Parker asked. We were hanging out on the bus in the parking lot of the Smoothie King Center on the Fourth of July in New Orleans, Louisiana, as Parker broke into my thoughts.
“Me?” I sat up from my lazy position nestled in the crook of his arm and looked at him.
He nodded.
“Sure. You?”
“Yep. Playlist is a little out of order tonight, so I’ll have to meet with the guys early.”
“That’s fine. I have some things I can take care of for my dad, anyway.”
“I thought Vanessa was handling it.”
I shrugged. “It’s the last show and it’s a holiday. He’s got more demands.”
“Take George.”
I rolled my eyes and earned myself an irritated look from Parker. “I know. You don’t have to tell me every time.”
“You’re irritable today.”
“How’s that different from any other day?”
“Touché.” He chuckled, and I punched him in the arm before he stood and stretched. I saw his abdomen peek out from under his black shirt. Just the glimpse of the cut muscles hidden beneath that shirt caused my mouth to water.
But we had work to do.
We headed toward the backstage area of the arena. Parker located the boys from Flashing Light, and then we parted ways as George led me straight to my dad.
Gideon sat on a couch, his legs stretched out and his feet resting on the table in front of him. His ever camera-ready wife was snuggled into his side much the same way I had been with Parker only moments earlier.
I rolled my eyes.
“Can’t we all just get along for the last night of the tour?” my dad asked.
I sighed and sat in a recliner chair, my eyes focused on the television that wasn’t even on as I hoped that someone else would join us in the room aside from the typically silent security team.
He tried a different tack for the conversation. “Did PJ tell you about the party tonight?”
“What party?”
“And she breaks her silence.” He grinned at me.
I’d been short with my dad ever since the journal incident, but he knew as well as I did that it would eventually pass. I was hurt that he’d sided with his wife over me, but I tried to look at it from his perspective. It was hard when the very smug Mrs. Price was cuddling into him.
Parker and I hadn’t really discussed what we’d do after the show. I tended to go with the flow, and sometimes that meant parties, but more often than not, it meant our group hanging out by our buses. Black Shadow could still rock the hell out of a sold-out arena, but they weren’t the party animals they’d been back in their twenties. Now most of them were married, some with adult children and others with lost loves under their belts.
People tended to think that big name rock tours were non-stop parties, and while that was true for some bands, this was a group of professional men who still knew how to have a good time. The bands typically kept to themselves for no other reason than the fact that they were each focused on their music with the goal in mind of making each show better than the last. Some of the guys in Pure Adrenaline had gotten close with some of the boys from Flashing Light, but that was largely without Parker. Mostly because Parker was always with me.
One night I’d asked him what he’d thought of that, whether he felt like he was missing out because he was always by my side as my hired protection.
And he’d said the words that would remain in my heart forever. “I’d rather be here with the woman I love than out partying with people I’ll never see again.”
“We rented out a place on Bourbon Street,” my dad said, bringing me back into the present conversation.
My immediate thought was that it sounded dangerous.
“Is that a good idea?” While there had certainly been sporadic debauchery on the tour, the members of Black Shadow tended to keep a pretty low profile. Likely it was because of the Randy threat, but it seemed odd to me that my dad would pick such a high-profile place to hold the final after party of the tour.
But then again, it was the last night. The last night always ended with a bang. Plus it was the Fourth of July.
My dad untangled himself from his wife, who had remained suspiciously quiet during our brief exchange. “It’s an excellent idea, CC. We’ll rock it out, have some fun, and be back in California tomorrow. You ready for that?”
I nodded. I wanted to tell him that I was terrified about what awaited me back in California, but I refrained from the confession in front of Jadyn.
“I’m ready, too, but I always hate to see the end of a tour.” My dad smiled wistfully.
“You really love the road, don’t you?”
“I really love performing our music. I love the atmosphere. I’ve never not enjoyed performing on the road.”
“When’s the next tour?”
My dad shrugged. “We have to get back in the studio. After our next release, we’ll probably hit the road again.”
“Have you been writing?”
He glanced at Jadyn, and then back at me. He nodded.
“Will Rebecca’s wedding be over by then?”
He chuckled. “Should be. She’s getting married next month.”
Jadyn seemed to perk up at that. “When are you and Parker getting hitched?” she asked.
“We haven’t picked a date yet.” I sounded defensive, but she wasn’t privy to my private life just because she was married to my father.
I glanced at the clock. “Have you eaten?” I asked my dad. He shook his head. “We need to get you fed and ready. Meet and greet in under an hour.”
I took care of my personal assistant duties and got my dad off to his meet and greet, and then I let Vanessa take over.
My job was officially over. While I had split PA duties during the second half of the tour, it still felt good that we’d managed to consistently deliver Gideon Price wherever he needed to be—and always on time.
Flashing Light took the stage first, and I watched from the trench in my favorite spot directly in front of Parker. When he backed up the words to “Trial and Error,” I felt the tears forming in my eyes. After we’d spoken about his family, he eventually confessed to me that I was the only person who knew what that song was really about. He’d never even told the guys in Flashing Light, the same men who played that song night after night. It held a very special meaning to him, and now to me. I loved watching his passion on the stage as he sang the back-up vocals and played the guitar.
After Flashing Light ended with a cover of Motley Crue’s “Home Sweet Home,” an homage to the fact it was the last night of the tour, I watched Pure Adrenaline perform. I’d seen bits and pieces of their set throughout the tour, but I never stayed long enough to watch the entire thing. Their energy pumped the crowd for the final act, my dad’s band.
Parker joined me in the trench during Pure Adrenaline’s second to last song, freshly showered and looking delicious and dangerous in a black shirt and a pair of jeans that hugged his body perfectly.
Someone in the crowd behind us evidently recognized him, because I heard additional screams and then I saw a security guard lean over to yell at someone on the other side of the rail separating us from the crowd. George took my dad’s set of credentials back to him as Parker and I stood in the trench. He rejoined us a few minutes later.
Parker poked me in the ribs. “Come with me,” he yelled over the music in my ear. He grabbed my hand, and George followed the two of us. Parker led us backstage off to the side.
“This is my favorite place to watch,” he said, and the three of us stood and watched from the side of the stage while Pure Adrenaline finished their last song. It was a vantage point people would’ve paid serious money for, but I liked the trench, down in front of the stage where I could see all of the action.
We moved out of the way after they finished their set. Roadies moved equipment off the stage while others moved equipment on to prepare for the final band. They moved with accuracy, precision, and speed.
It was fascinating to watch the transformation, and soon the stage was set for Black Shadow. Occasional waves of noise roared up from the crowd, and I could only assume it was the wannabe groupies who loved to flash their tits to the entire crowd before my dad’s band took the stage.
I’d been attending Black Shadow concerts for as long as I could remember, and tits were definitely a staple to the action. Since it was the last night of the tour, they were out in full force.
Soon the lights in the arena blacked out, and then Gideon, Mikey, Johnny, and Carlos walked by us to take their positions on the stage. We moved back to where we stood when we had watched Pure Adrenaline’s set. I felt Parker’s hand clutching mine, and it was one of those perfect moments where everything felt right in my little corner of the world.
A loud display of pyrotechnics sounded and flashed brightly before my eyes, and then drums and guitar and bass worked together to produce Black Shadow’s opening song, which was their most recent single. I watched my dad sing the words as the crowd sang along with him, and I couldn’t help the surge of pride that I always felt when I watched Black Shadow perform.
At some point, Jadyn appeared beside me to watch her husband perform. I did the most civil thing I could think of: I completely ignored her presence backstage.
We watched most of the set, and then Parker led me back to Flashing Light’s dressing room before the craziness ensued and the backstage area filled with horny women looking to hook up with Gideon Price.
I gagged a little just at the thought.
“Want to go to the after party?” Parker asked once we were settled into a comfy leather chair together back in his dressing room.
Vinnie was in a corner shoving his tongue down some woman’s throat. She had far too much cleavage sticking out of her shirt. Fitz and Garrett sat on the couch talking a bit more civilly with some other women. They seemed interested in conversation, at least, but Vinnie made it pretty clear what he wanted. I glanced over in the corner, and his hand had was grappling with her breast. He really was kind of a scumbag.
“If you do,” I said, forcing enthusiasm into my voice that I didn’t really feel. I wasn’t sure why, but I had a bad feeling about the after party.
“Then let’s get drunk and have some fun. George is here, Bruno is around somewhere. We’ll be safe.”
I nodded. “Sounds fun,” I said, not really meaning it. But I’d prevented Parker from enough fun on this tour. It was the last night. He deserved the celebration and the chance to blow off some steam after a stressful few weeks.
Parker got up and headed over to a counter stocked with bottles and cans and liters. He poured a generous amount of whiskey into one cup and a generous amount of vodka into another. He splashed some soda in each and brought me a vodka mixed with a few drops of Sprite.
I tapped my red Solo cup against his, and we each took a sip. He grinned at me as I winced at the strength of alcohol in my drink, but as soon as I took my third or fourth sip, it didn’t seem as strong. I felt the warmth begin to spread through my system.
I heard some noise in the hallway outside of the Flashing Light dressing room, indicating to me that my dad’s set was done. It was nearly time to get ready to leave, but the warmth of the vodka in my chest was preventing me from wanting to move from my spot in the chair next to Parker.
I felt his lips press to my temple, and the warmth in my chest blossomed to my entire torso. Alcohol always managed to intensify feelings, but it was the love I felt for him without the liquor that was diffusing through my system.
Before I knew it, Parker was standing and pulling me to my feet. My dad always treated on the last night of the tour, and that night was no exception. As we walked out behind the venue toward our buses, a line of SUV limousines waited for the members of Flashing Light, Pure Adrenaline, and Black Shadow—plus their guests, of course.
We’d missed the fireworks lighting up the night sky on the Fourth of July, but I was happy as long as my hand was clutched in Parker’s.
Parker and I were sharing a car with Fitz, Garrett, and Vinnie. All three men had also brought along the women they’d been talking to. I was shocked that Vinnie hadn’t ditched the blonde he’d been making out with in favor of hooking up with someone new at the bar, but I supposed he’d already gotten his start with this one. Considering she’d watched him up on that stage, and he’d be relatively unknown at the bar, she was probably his best bet.
I glanced around the limo. It held bench seating across one side of the stretched interior, capped at each end with a luxurious looking leather seat. The other side had a long bar that was stocked with beer, wine, champagne, and plenty of spirits.
Parker guided me all the way to the far end, closest to the driver, and the others trailed in behind us. A glass partition separated us from the driver, and I couldn’t help but be thankful that this was my life. I tended to take a lot of my blessings for granted, but for some reason, limousine rides always reminded me what money could do for people.
And then I thought about the fact that Randy was after us, that my dad was in some sort of trouble with him, that my dad married Jadyn and I still didn’t trust her…and I was reminded once again of the downsides to the many blessings we had.
I wished that Parker and I had taken a different car. I liked my time alone with him, and I didn’t like watching Vinnie play his disgusting games despite the vast area of the limo. I snuggled into Parker, who wrapped his arm firmly around my shoulders. I tried to psych myself up for the night ahead. I tried to block out Vinnie and thoughts of Randy and all of the issues that had surrounded us on this tour. I tried to focus on the feel of Parker next to me. I tried to be happy that I didn’t have George or Bruno on my ass for five minutes. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. A sense of foreboding pierced my abdomen.
Parker unwrapped his arm from around me and I sat up, my eyes wide at the fear I felt permeating through me. He left me for just a moment to fix us both a drink. He was only about a foot away from me. He handed me my second vodka drink of the night. This one was as strong as the first, and it lowered my inhibitions just enough to help alleviate some of my anxiety.
We arrived at the bar after about a twenty minute drive. Bourbon Street was only about a four minute drive from the venue, but traffic was heavy. The concert had been over for at least an hour, but fans were insane and waited around long after the show to catch a simple glance of one of the band members. If only they knew that we were headed to a bar just down the street.
Parker’s hand firmly clutched mine as we exited the limo. He only let go to put his arm around my shoulder, and I wasn’t sure if it was a gesture of intimacy or a gesture of protection. It didn’t really matter either way. I liked being cocooned in Parker’s arms.
We headed up some stairs and entered Bourbon Balcony, a bar with an obvious name and a balcony overlooking Bourbon Street. Music pumped through the place, led by a deejay set up on a stage in one corner. The bar was decorated in golds, purples, and greens—Mardi Gras colors—but it was dim inside and more than a little run-down. Rebecca had handled the details for the final after party before she’d taken her leave of absence, and I briefly wondered what had made her choose this particular bar. It was a little shoddy compared to the places my dad usually booked.
I watched as my dad made a beeline for the stage, George following close behind him. He huddled together with the deejay and some other men standing around.
“You want anything?” Parker yelled in my ear over the music.
I shrugged, and he grinned. “Typical.” He grabbed my hand and led me to the bar, where he ordered us each another round.
A mixture of exhaustion and anxiety filtered through me, and I knew taking the drink wouldn’t be a good idea. I wanted to have a good time, but knowing this was our last night and not knowing what awaited me in California the next day was eating away at me.
So I sipped slowly. And, of course, I was teased for it.
“You want me to get you a nipple for that bottle?” Parker asked with a grin as I looked anxiously around the bar, not knowing what exactly I was looking for but sure that there was something.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked when I didn’t respond to his bantering.
I shook my head.
“What’s up?”
I shrugged—not to be a smartass, but because I really didn’t know. I just knew what I felt. “Something feels off.”
“Do you want to leave?”
I shook my head as guilt washed over me. He was so sweet, always looking out for me and giving up anything and everything in order to protect me while he was on tour with one of the biggest bands in the world.
I couldn’t take more from him despite the strange anxiety I felt. “I don’t want to take away the last after party from you. It’s fine.”
“I could not care less about this party. All I care about is you.”
I softened at his kind words—words that were exactly what I needed to hear.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a text, and then he grabbed my hand and led me back to the stairwell that took us down to Bourbon Street.
“Where are we going?” I asked as we merged into the throng of people walking one of the most famous streets in America.
I glanced around me. I was young enough that this should have been my scene. Drunk people hung off of balconies, calling down to people on the streets. Others meandered in and out of bars, carrying tall cups of beer or frozen drinks in red, white, and blue glasses a yard tall. Women flashed their tits to men on the balconies to earn themselves a string of plastic beads. Faces were painted with stars and flags.
But instead of getting caught up in the raunchy fun, the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention as I feared Randy and whatever point he was trying to prove. I wasn’t sure that separating ourselves from my dad and his security team was the best idea, but we hadn’t gone far when Parker pulled me into a diner.
It was quiet inside after the madness on the street. Parker pulled down the bill of his Sox cap, presumably to avoid being recognized after playing a huge show that was walking distance from where we stood.
A waitress sat us, and we took a booth in the far corner. We sat together, both of us facing the door, me inside the booth and Parker on the outside. Regardless of what awaited us, I felt his protection. Always.
“You want menus or just drinks?” the waitress asked. I checked her nametag: Tamara.
“Menus,” Parker said. He glanced at me. “What are you drinking?”
“Coke, please.” I smiled at the waitress, and then I watched in disgust while she ogled my boyfriend.
“Coffee.” He kept his attention on his menu and not on the waitress, and I couldn’t help but press myself a little closer into his side.
I glanced up at Tamara and earned myself a little glare. With that move, she managed to score herself a lower tip.
“Cream and sugar?” Tamara asked, her voice suddenly a little more sultry than it had been moments earlier. Why did women feel the need to act like that around men who were clearly in relationships?
I rolled my eyes as Parker answered, and Tamara left to get our drinks.
I flipped through the menu, not looking up. “She wants you.”
He chuckled. “So what? I want you.”
I felt his lips at my temple, once again giving me comfort in only the way he could.
She brought our drinks, and his attention was solely on me. We ordered pancakes, drenched them in syrup, and giggled through our meal, just the two of us. Waitresses named Tamara no longer existed. Randy’s anxiety-inducing presence no longer mattered. Whatever awaited me the next day at home was no longer an issue. It was just Parker and me, my boyfriend and his girlfriend, enjoying a date night together in the middle of Bourbon Street.
Parker paid our bill, and then he sent a text. We had to wait for a reply before he would let me out of the booth.
“Who are we waiting on?” I finally asked on a sigh as I played with the straw in my Coke.
“George.”
“What’s taking him so long?”
Parker shrugged. “His responses are usually immediate.”
Alarm bells sounded in my head. George was always on call. The only reason he would not immediately respond to Parker’s text was if something was wrong. My eyes met Parker’s, and his were as worried as mine. “Try Fitz or something.”
He nodded and punched out another text, and then his phone started ringing a moment later. We both checked his screen. It was Fitz.
“Yeah?” Parker answered.
I tried to listen to the conversation, but the din of the restaurant was too noisy for me to hear Fitz.
“Fuck,” Parker muttered. My blood turned to ice at his reaction. Something was definitely wrong, but I wasn’t sure what it was. He continued his conversation. “We’re at a diner about a block from the bar.”
They finished talking, and I waited patiently for an explanation after he hung up. He turned toward me and lowered his voice.
“You know how you had a weird feeling all night?”
I nodded.
“There was a fight at the bar.”
“Oh my God. Is everyone okay?”
“Fitz said yes. A few bruises, but everyone is okay.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
He took a deep breath. “One of Randy’s guys showed up. Sounds like George took care of him.”
“What does that mean?” I shrieked, my hands suddenly shaking at the thought that this huge threat was nearby.
His words were reminiscent of the time someone had been following me and Bruno “took care of him.” I wasn’t sure what it meant then, and I didn’t know what it meant now, either.
“I’m not sure, Jimi. But we’re staying here until I get the all clear.”
“Where is Randy’s guy now?” My voice was still at shriek level, and I wasn’t sure that I was capable of bringing it down to a normal decibel.
He pulled me against him, rubbing soothing circles on my back. He clearly wasn’t sure what to do, but I was pretty sure there was nothing he could do that would make any of this go away.
A text buzzed through Parker’s phone, and a minute later I saw my dad appear in the doorway of the diner. He looked around the place a moment before his eyes landed on mine, and I saw relief pass through his. I also saw a bruise on his cheek and fresh wounds above his eyebrow and on his lip.
He looked rough from across the room. I couldn’t imagine what he looked like up close.
I pushed past Parker and ran to him. People in the diner were starting to recognize him, so we didn’t have much time for a family reunion. He pulled me into his arms, and tears started leaking from my eyes.
“What happened?” I asked, my voice trembling as I pulled back to look at my dad’s injuries.
He shook his head. “Not now. Let’s get out of here.”
I nodded, and I turned to find Parker, who was right behind me. We ducked out of the diner, ran through an alley and around a corner, and there sat George behind the wheel of one of the limos we had arrived in just a couple of hours earlier.
Once we were settled into the back of the limo and on our way back to the hotel, I was ready for answers.
Parker spoke first. “So what does the other guy look like?”
I wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t force it out. My dad chuckled.
“Do you remember Randy’s friend Carl?” my dad asked me
I nodded. Carl was always with Randy, and he always seemed like a total slime bag to me. Sort of like Randy, actually.
“He showed up. I kicked his ass.”
“How did he get past George?” Parker asked.
I sat silently, my eyes on my dad’s face. He was handsome as always, my daddy, but he looked exhausted, and the cuts and sores looked fresh and painful.
“The whole security team has pictures of all of Randy’s associates, but George ran down to pull the car around. I saw Carl first and laid in on him. Bruno is the one who broke us up and got George.”
“Where’s Carl now?” I finally asked.
My dad shrugged. “George and Bruno escorted him out.”
“Is that code for kicking his ass some more?” I asked.
My dad chuckled again, and then he winced slightly. “Yeah,” he muttered, and then he turned his attention to his phone while Parker stroked my hand in a soothing motion and I tried to look anywhere but at my dad.
