Текст книги "Hot Ticket"

Автор книги: Olivia Cunning

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

Chapter 34

Jace stood behind the stage watching the roadies set up for the concert in Edmonton. He could hang out here until they were done. Then he’d have to leave because Jon would start rehearsing with the band for their show. He couldn’t force himself to watch that.

The next night there’d be a symphony playing in this venue, and the orchestra’s instruments had already been delivered. They were lined up along the back wall behind the stage area which made it challenging for the roadies to maneuver their stage sections into place. Feeling woozy from looking at the rigging, Jace meandered to the bench in front of the symphony’s grand piano. He sat heavily and took a deep breath. Maybe he should check himself into a hospital. He couldn’t regain his strength. That probably had to do with keeping Aggie satisfied. It was impossible to keep his hands off her. He didn’t bother trying.

Jace leaned against the keyboard of the piano, and it pinged discordantly. Someone had forgotten to cover the keys. He turned on the bench, tossed back the heavy canvas covering the instrument, and reached for the little knob connected to the wooden lid. His wrist hit the keys. He paused, instantly transported back in time. He could almost feel his mother sitting beside him, her arm pressed against his shoulder, her leg against his. During those times, he pretended she cared about him.

Jace shrugged his sling aside and allowed his fingers to settle on the keys, his feet on the pedals. He definitely felt Mother as his fingers found a familiar melody. He could hear her, speaking in that barely perceptible whisper of hers. Don’t play the music, Jason. Let the music play you. Give yourself over to it. Let it inside. It’s alive. Do you feel it?

Music was alive. He did feel it. He always had. It was more real than his own existence.

Jace let the melody take him, giving his fingers free rein. The keys beside him, where his mother’s fingers should have rested, remained still, but he heard her playing with him as surely as if she’d been sitting beside him. When he reached the end of the song, the final note rang and his mother faded away.

“I didn’t know you played piano,” Aggie said. “That was beautiful.” She slid onto the bench beside him. “Play something else.”

He shook his head and pulled the cover forward to hide the keyboard. He hurriedly slipped his arm back in his sling so she didn’t harass him about playing. Aggie took his left hand and squeezed. How did she always know when he was feeling most vulnerable? She sensed it like a vulture senses carrion, and circled overhead, waiting for the perfect opportunity to swoop down and rip his heart out.

“Where did you learn to play?” She brushed his hair behind his ear with her free hand. It was getting too long to spike, and he needed to bleach his roots, but since he wasn’t performing, he didn’t bother.

The shiny black cover that hid the keyboard blurred out of focus. “My mother taught me.”

“She must have been talented.”

“Yeah. Music was the only thing she really loved.”

Aggie’s hand slid over his lower back, and she leaned against him. “And you. She loved you.”

He shook his head slightly. “No. She never wanted me.”

“I don’t believe that.”

He found the anger—found it and clung to it. “I don’t give a fuck what you believe.”

He shoved her away and tried to stand, but she grasped him around the waist and pulled him back on the bench.

“I don’t believe that either. Talk.” She slid a hand up his face and turned his head. He couldn’t meet her eyes, so he stared at her chin. “Talk to me, Jace.”

He didn’t want to talk. He wanted to fester. Why wouldn’t she leave him alone?

“Tell me why you think your mother didn’t want you.”

The ache in his chest spread up his throat, stealing his air. “Because…” He took a deep shaky breath. “Because she told me. Every day she told me.”

He fought the stinging ache behind his eyes. Men don’t cry, son. Yes, Father. I know. I know. It’s her fault. Aggie’s. She won’t leave me alone. She keeps pushing. And pushing.

“What did she say exactly, Jace?” Aggie asked. “Maybe you misunderstood.”

He laughed bitterly. “Yeah, I was just a dumb kid. I must have misunderstood.” He peeled her off his body and stood. He’d lock himself in the men’s room for a while until he got himself under control. Surely she wouldn’t follow him there.

Aggie shoved him back down on the bench. His back hit the fall board covering the piano keys, and pain snaked through the healing wound in his shoulder. She straddled his lap, facing him, and grabbed his chin in one hand. She had that cold, dominatrix look in her eyes. It effectively got his attention.

“You’re not going to get out of this that easily. You can pretend to be mad at me, but it won’t get me off your case.”

“Who’s pretending?”

“You are. Tell me what your mother said that hurt you so deeply.”

“I’m not hurt.”

“You are hurt, you dummy, and that pain won’t ever go away unless you let it go. I want to help you, but I don’t know what I’m up against, Jace. Talk to me. Tell me.”

“Maybe I don’t want it to go away. Maybe I like it. You’re the one who made me admit I like pain.”

She hit him in the chest with both palms. “This isn’t a game anymore, dammit. Don’t you get it?” She hugged him unexpectedly, pressing her nose into his neck. Her warm breath brushed his skin beneath his ear. “I’m sorry I hit you. I’m so frustrated. What did she say to you, sweetheart? What did she say? Go away? Give me a minute to myself? Go play in your room for a while, Mommy’s busy right now? What? Just tell me.”

Jace snorted. If Mother had only been so kind. He repeated his mother’s mantra to Aggie in the same low whisper she’d always used. Mother had always whispered it close to his ear, as if she wasn’t really saying those hurtful words, if she said them quietly enough, if no one heard them but him. “If it weren’t for you, Jason, I could have had my dream. If it weren’t for you, Jason, I wouldn’t have had to marry your father. Why did I get pregnant? I should have given you up for adoption. I never wanted you. You’re the reason I live like this. In this hovel. With that man. I could have been a concert pianist. I could have been somebody. And now, you know what I am? I’m just your mother. That’s all I am. His wife. Your mother. I am no one. I don’t want to be your mother, Jason. I never did. I’ll give you away. Give you to someone who can stand to look at you.”

His hands gripped Aggie’s waist as old fears found their way into his heart. “She left me places, Aggie. She pretended she was happy to see me when the cops brought me home. ‘He’s always wandering off by himself,’ she’d tell them and then give them coffee and cookies while she told them stories about my wandering ways. They’d laugh about how cute I was. ‘He’s adorable. You’re lucky no one took him,’ they’d say. I was afraid to leave the house with her. I never knew where she’d leave me. When we were out, I didn’t dare go to the bathroom or turn my back or let her out of my sight, because if I did, she’d be gone. I could never find her. I’d look for her and call for her, but she’d be gone. She didn’t want me, Aggie. She never wanted me. But when we played piano together, I felt something—some closeness to her. I don’t know what it was.” Something hot and wet slipped down his cheek. “She loved that fucking piano, but she never loved me.” He dashed a tear away angrily. “Do you see why I don’t want to talk about this? Now I’m fuckin’ crying like a little girl.”

Aggie crushed his face into her chest, her body shaking with sobs. What was she crying about? She’d wanted him to tell her, so he had. And now she was crying? Women. He didn’t understand them.

Aggie kissed the top of his head, rubbing her face against his hair. Getting it wet with tears. Messing it up. Making him feel like a total ass. What if one of the guys saw them like this? He’d never hear the end of it.

“She’s gone, Jace. She can’t hurt you anymore.”

She was gone. His mother. And before she died, he never got to tell her it didn’t matter that she didn’t love him. He loved her. And that fucking piano of hers? He loved it too. A week after she’d been buried, his father had donated her piano to some school—gotten rid of it because it reminded him of her. That had been worse for Jace, somehow, than her actual death. Father wanted no reminders of her in his house. The woman had been everything to him. Not just his wife. His life. He’d changed after she’d died. He became crueler than Jace’s mother had ever thought of being, because Dad needed someone to blame for the love of his life’s premature death, and Jace had been the only one available to hold responsible.

Jace closed his eyes tightly, blocking thoughts of his father from his mind.

Aggie kissed his temple tenderly. “I think she did love you, Jace, but it doesn’t matter. She’s gone, and I’m here. I love you. I do. I love you.”

Fear paralyzed him. He couldn’t move when every instinct told him to run. “Don’t,” he whispered.

“Shhh,” Aggie murmured. “It’s okay. I know you don’t know how to respond. I understand. I won’t ever abandon you. I’ll be here whenever you need me.”

And that was far more terrifying than being six years old and left alone in the reptile house at the zoo. At least there, the things that frightened him were in cages. They couldn’t get to him. But Aggie got to him. And it scared the hell out of him. “Will you hurt me?” he asked. “I need it.” The pain was too raw. He needed help burying it again.

She cupped his face in both hands—kissed his eyelids, the tip of his nose, his lips. “Yes. I’ll hurt you. I know what to do now.”

Panic flooded his chest. She knew what to do? What did she mean by that?

“We need someplace private,” she murmured. “Do you think the guys would be willing to install a soundproof room on the tour bus?”

Jace laughed. “You know, they might. We wouldn’t be the only ones to benefit from that.”

She kissed him again, smiling down at him. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Aggie approached Sed, who sat slouched on the couch watching television in a trancelike state next to Eric. Jace headed straight for the bedroom.

Sed glanced at her. “What’s up?”

“Do you think you could get everyone to stay off this bus for about an hour? Jace and I need a little privacy. Well, a lot of privacy.”

“It’s just me and Eric here. Don’t mind us. We’ve heard it all before.”

“Can I watch?” Eric asked eagerly.

“No, this is different. He won’t let me in if he thinks you guys can hear him.” She leaned close to the guys and whispered so Jace couldn’t overhear. “He always worries about what you guys think of him—that you won’t accept him for who he is. We’ll work on that eventually, but right now, I need to help him bury his mother.”

“His mother died?” Sed asked, looking stunned. “When?”

“Around fifteen years ago. You didn’t know?”

Sed shook his head. Both he and Eric glanced down the corridor at Jace, who was trying to play it cool by leaning against the door frame. He looked ready to leap out of his skin.

“He never talks about himself,” Sed said. “He has this wall thing he does.”

Aggie knew exactly what Sed meant. Jace’s wall. He hid behind it often, and once he put it up, it was nearly impossible to tear it down. “I’m working on that too,” Aggie said. “So, do you think you could get lost for an hour?”

Sed climbed to his feet. “Yep. I could use a workout anyway.”

“And keep everyone off the bus?” Aggie added.

Eric pulled a drumstick from the inner pocket of his leather vest and held it across his chest like a sword. “I shall guard this dwelling, m’lady, and vanquish all who dare attempt to trespass.” He took a stab at Sed with his improvised weapon. “Back, foul beast.”

“With this guy as your knight, you’d better be sure to lock the door.” Sed slipped into his jacket and headed down the bus steps.

Eric winked at her and loped after Sed. Aggie closed the bus door and secured it. She took a deep breath and let Mistress V come to the surface. As much as Aggie would have loved to help Jace by talking, listening, and showering him with love, she knew she wouldn’t get through to him that way. But Mistress V could. Mistress V could break him. Mistress V would break him.

She stalked down the hall. “Get in there,” she demanded, shoving him toward the bedroom. He stumbled sideways through the open doorway.

“Why did Sed and Eric leave?”

“Do you want them to hear you beg?”

“I won’t.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Wanna bet?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, actually—”

“Take off your clothes.” She went to the closet and lugged his big suitcase out. There had to be something in there she could use.

She found the chain and the cuffs on top of his tools of pleasure and climbed on the bed to suspend them from the ceiling.

“Aggie, what—”

She hopped off the bed and grabbed him by the ear. “Mistress V,” she corrected.

“Mistress V,” he said breathlessly.

“I told you to strip. Take off the sling too.” She released him and returned to the suitcase. She found a paddle, slapped it against her thigh, and set it aside.

Jace made short work of his clothes and moved to stand over her shoulder, peering into the suitcase. “I think there’s a riding crop in there somewhere.”

“Did I say you could speak? Go tip the mattress and box spring against the wall.”

“Why?”

“Don’t question me.”

He did as she asked and revealed a wooden platform under the mattresses. Perfect.

“Stand there,” she pointed to the center of the platform, right beneath the restraints.

“I don’t like to be restrained.”

“No one asked what you like.”

“But—”

“We do this my way or not at all.”

He glanced at the restraints and then down at her. He nodded. Gave up his power, except his willpower. But she planned to take that too and give him more in return.

She climbed onto the platform and took his left hand. She lifted his arm above his head, and he held still while she fastened the cuff around his wrist. Before she could secure his other hand, he sank his fingers into her hair and pulled her mouth to his, stealing her thoughts with a deep kiss. She might have him chained to the ceiling, but she was the one ensnared, and she knew it.

When he pulled away, she stared into his eyes. “Don’t hate me for this, okay?”

“I don’t think it’s possible to hate you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” She carefully lifted his injured right arm, watching for signs of distress. The only distress he showed was when she tried to remove the leather cuff on that wrist. “No, don’t take that off.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want you to.”

She shrugged and secured his other wrist over his head by fastening the restraint over his studded bracelet. “Is your shoulder okay in that position?”

He nodded. She got to work.

She paddled him until he trembled with excitement and then set the implement aside. She moved to stand behind him and gently ran her hands over his chest and belly while she trailed gentle kisses along his shoulders and back. As she figured he would, he fought his restraints. She continued her tender caresses until he twisted out of her grasp.

“Not gentle, Aggie. Please, I can’t stand it.”

“Mistress V,” she reminded him.

“Hit me, Mistress V. Now.”

“I don’t think I will,” she whispered, spooning against him and running her hands over his belly and his most sensitive places inside the ridges of his hip bones.

He chuckled. “Ah, tickles.”

That laugh. It made her heart ache with longing. She almost didn’t have the stomach to continue.

“Your mother’s failure wasn’t your fault, Jace,” she said.

He went still.

“She still could have been a concert pianist. You weren’t standing in her way. She was standing in her own way. She did it to herself and used you as her excuse.”

“Don’t tell me about my mother. You don’t know anything about her.”

She should have expected his anger to surface first, but it wasn’t the reaction she was looking for. She had to push harder—dig deeper. God, she hoped he didn’t hate her after this. She didn’t know if she’d be able to handle his hatred, even if she did this for his own good. “She was a selfish bitch, Jace. Why are you defending her? What kind of mother blames an innocent child for her own failure?”

“Don’t say bad things about my mother, Aggie.”

“Why not?”

“She was my mother.”

“Yes, she was, but she was also a person. A person who hurt you. I don’t like it when people hurt those I love.”

“Need to inflict all the pain yourself? Is that it?”

She slapped his ass with the paddle, and he groaned, his head tilting back.

“I don’t hurt you the way she did,” Aggie said.

“But you’re trying to.”

“No, I—”

“Do you think I’m stupid, Aggie? That I don’t know what you’re trying to do? You think I’m broken. You think you can fix me. All that ‘I love you’ bullshit doesn’t mean a damned thing, does it? You don’t love me. Not the real me. You love who you think you can make me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yeah, it is. Unfasten the cuffs. I’m done.”

So that was his game. She wasn’t going to release him—no matter how unaffected he pretended to be.

“I’m not. Not even close to done.” She tossed the paddle aside and caressed his skin with her hands and her lips. Touched him. Kissed him with the same tenderness he frequently showed her.

After several minutes, he pulled away, yanking on his restraints. “Okay, you win. Let me go. My shoulder hurts.”

“What do you mean, I win? Do you think this is a game?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you blame yourself for your mother’s death?” she asked. “Or just for her failures in life?”

“Shut up.”

“Do you think she would have been more successful if you’d never been born?”

“I said, shut up, Aggie! I’m not in the mood for games.”

“Do you wish you would have died in that car accident instead of her? Do you think she would have been happy if you’d died? Do you—”

“Shut up, Aggie.” He yanked on his chains hard now, trying to pull the hook from the ceiling. “Just shut up. You don’t know a goddamned thing about how I feel.”

“Because you won’t talk to me. If I’m wrong, then tell me how you really feel.”

“You’re not wrong,” he shouted. “Okay? I do wish I’d died instead of her. I did ruin her life.” He took a deep shuddering breath. “Just… just let me go. Take the cuffs off.”

“Then you’ll run. You’ll hide.”

“That’s all I know how to do. It’s all I can do. Hide from it. If I don’t, it will find me. Hurt me. Until I feel like I’ve been eviscerated. Until death would be a blessing.”

She touched his face, and he looked into her eyes. She’d never seen his pain this close to the surface. It tore at her heart.

“I love you,” she whispered.

His gaze drifted to her forehead.

“Look at me, Jace. I want you to believe what I say. I want you to see it in my eyes.”

After a long moment, his eyes settled on hers.

“I love you,” she said.

“Why?”

“I need a reason?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. She was losing him again. And she had plenty of reasons. She wasn’t sure which one would get through to him.

“I love the way you make love to me, so tenderly, and with such care, that I feel like the only woman in the world.”

“That’s just sex, Aggie.”

She caressed the crease in his forehead gently. “It’s more than that to me. It’s a way to connect with you. I love your smile, your laugh, your ticklish spots.”

His eyes opened.

“I love how you put everything you are into your music.”

He smiled slightly.

“I love when you confide in me. I know you don’t do that with many people. It makes me feel like you trust me, and somewhere in there, you know I love you, even if you don’t think you’re worthy.”

“I’m not worthy.”

“You are. I’m not such a great person, Jace. I have a dark past too—things I wish I could take back, change, but I realized long ago that you can’t change the past. You have to let it go. Move on.”

“I can’t forget, Aggie. I’ve tried.”

She shook her head. “You’ll never forget. You shouldn’t forget, but you have to forgive yourself. And there’s nothing to forgive as far as your mother is concerned. Being born is not something that needs to be forgiven.”

He stared at her, his defenses crumbling. “I never told her good-bye, Aggie. I was too afraid.”

“Why were you afraid? Tell me.”

He didn’t lower his gaze as he spoke. “She looked like a monster. The accident twisted her body, smashed her face. Every inch of her was swollen and broken and bloody and bruised. I couldn’t stand to look at her. My father told me I’d better tell her good-bye before it was too late, but I ran away and hid. I hid for hours until my father found me. He beat me so badly that I couldn’t get out of bed. I missed her funeral. I couldn’t stop him from getting rid of her piano. I was too weak. And too scared.” His eyes brimmed with tears. “There was nothing left of her for me to hold on to. Nothing.” He took a deep shuddering breath. “I should have said good-bye. I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t…” Tears dripped from both eyes, and he squeezed them shut.

“Of course, you were afraid. You were a child, Jace. You shouldn’t have been forced to be strong. It’s okay. You have to forgive yourself. You have to.”

He bit his lip and shook his head.

She reached up and released his hands from the restraints. When he tried to turn away, she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him. He didn’t pull away as she expected, but instead, burrowed his face in her neck and trembled with emotions. She didn’t push him. She let him fall apart or pull himself together, whichever he needed.

Slowly, his ragged breathing returned to normal. Sometime in the long moments that he held her, she realized she needed this as much as he did. He gave her something no one else ever had. He gave her a reason to live—a future to look forward to and someone to love. With everything she was or dared hope to be.

“Let’s go watch the show,” he murmured.

She leaned away to look at him. “Huh?”

“The concert. I want to watch it tonight.”

“Even with Jon onstage?”

“Yeah.”

“Do I get to be your date?”

He flushed and grinned. “Will you?”

“Of course. Will you tell me about your father?”

His smile faded into a scowl. “Haven’t you already pushed me enough about my past?”

She watched his fortified emotional wall slip into place.

“When you’re ready, baby,” she amended. “I’ll wait. I want you to know you can tell me anything.”

“Can I tell you that you’re too nosy?”

She chuckled. “Yeah.”

“Can I tell you that even though you always rip my heart out, you really do make me feel better?”

“I do?”

He nodded. “Not sure why you stick around.”

“I already told you why. I love you. You’ll get it eventually.” She kissed him tenderly. “Get dressed. We have a concert to attend.”

* * *

Jace took a seat in the folding chair at the edge of the darkened stage. Aggie stood behind him and rested her hands on his shoulders. He knew she was staking her claim—could practically feel the my man vibes coming off her—but he didn’t mind. He was getting used to the idea that he belonged to her. He concentrated on the noise of the crowd and not the sound of Jon thumbing his bass guitar behind them as he warmed up.

“When are you going to start playing shows again?” Aggie asked.

“As soon as Jon leaves.”

“Are you well enough to play now?”

“I think so.”

“Then why don’t you say something to the guys?”

Jace shrugged. He didn’t want to sound like a complainer. Jon was doing them a favor by taking up his slack. Besides, Eric preferred Jon. The rest of the band probably did too. And the fans. He knew they’d rather watch Jon perform.

Aggie leaned over and kissed Jace’s temple. He glanced at her, and his heart swelled with emotion. These feelings he had for this woman were foreign. He wasn’t sure what they meant.

“You should play at least one song for the fans tonight,” she pressed. “They miss you.”

“Nah.”

“One song for me then. I want to hear you play. Go say something to Sed.”

“Say what to Sed?” Sed asked from the dark space near Jace’s right elbow.

Jace turned his attention to the empty stage. “Forget it.”

“Does your woman need to speak for you?”

Jace sighed. “She wants me to play a song onstage tonight.”

“How about ‘Twisted’ in the encore?” Brian said.

“Yeah, that would be sweet,” Trey said.

Had anyone not overheard their conversation?

“Yeah, good idea,” Sed said. “I’ll go tell Dave.” He trotted down the steps to the floor beside the stage where all the mixing equipment had been set up. He picked up a headset with a mic and started talking to Dave, who was manning the soundboard and controls in the middle of the audience.

Jace supposed he had to play now. He wondered how Jon would react. And wasn’t sure why he cared.

As soon as Sed returned, a blue light flooded the stage from ground level. Eric tapped the first beats of “Gates of Hell,” and Trey and Brian dashed across the stage to take their places. Jon followed several steps behind, careening into Jace’s chair on his way past. Jace planted his feet firmly on the floor to keep from toppling over. Aggie’s hands tightened on his shoulders.

“Whoops, didn’t see you there, little man,” Jon said, before joining the band onstage.

“He did that on purpose. He’s a fucking asshole,” Aggie said between clenched teeth.

Sed entered with his signature battle cry, having abandoned using the violin in several songs now. The stage lights came on from above, and the crowd went wild. Sed lifted his hand to the audience, increasing their excitement with his attention. The guy had been born to be a star. Jace was used to seeing the back of Sed’s head while onstage, so watching his facial expressions as he sang his heart out held a strange fascination. As did Jon’s blatant attempts to upstage him. Jon moved from leaning against Trey, who was laughing his ass off, to standing on the center ego-riser in front of Sed and banging his head to his bass riff.

“Am I the only one who thinks he looks like an idiot?” Aggie mumbled.

Apparently. The crowd ate up every minute, especially when Sed elbowed Jon out of his way, and Jon did a backwards somersault off the riser.

During Brian’s guitar solo, Jon played his riff lying on his back at Brian’s feet. Trey entered the solo midway through, to play the dueling segment of the insanely fast progression. He leaned against Brian’s back, the synchrony between the guitarists intimate in its perfection. Trey placed his foot in the center of Jon’s chest as he played. The three of them—a unit. Jace tore his gaze from the scene, the ache in his chest acute, and focused on the pair of drumsticks flailing behind the drum kit. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him that Jon was having such a good time being part of the group. Jace had known all along that he had never fit in with Sinners. Not completely.

Jace started to get out of his chair, but Aggie leaned against him, her hands firmly on his shoulders. “He’s too busy showing off to realize he sounds like crap.”

He glanced at her. She smiled with that damnable pitying look in her eyes. He brushed her hands away and climbed to his feet.

The song ended, and Sed talked to the crowd. “How we doing tonight, Edmonton?”

The roar was deafening.

“We’ve got a special treat at the end of the show, so don’t go anywhere.” Sed glanced to the side of the stage where Jace stood. “As you might have heard, our bassist, Jace, has been a little under the weather. Some might remember Jon Mallory from our earlier days. He’s filling in until Jace gets over a case of explosive diarrhea.”

Jace’s eyes widened. What?

Sed grinned like a shark and glanced offstage at Jace again.

“He needs to quit eating those expired burritos,” Trey said into his microphone.

That is what they’d been telling the fans? Jace laughed and shook his head. God, these guys were too much.

“I’ve got a backstage pass for the first fan who offers up a can of industrial strength air freshener,” Brian said into his microphone on the far side of the stage. “The ventilation on our tour bus sucks.”

Jace crossed his arms over his chest, his grin broadening.

“Eh, we’re just fuckin’ with you,” Sed said to the crowd. “Jace, come out here. There are rumors spreading that you’re dead.”

Jace glanced at Aggie, who was wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, and then headed across the stage. The crowd cheered as he approached center stage. Sed wrapped an arm around Jace’s shoulders and spoke into his microphone. “He looks pretty good for a dead man, don’t you think?” He paused while the crowd responded with excited screams and yells. “Say hello to the fans.” Sed held the microphone to Jace’s mouth.

His heart thudded, and heat flooded his face. “Hello to the fans.”

Sed chuckled. “Do you think you can muster the strength to play something later in the show?”

“I think that can be arranged.”

Jace was stunned by the crowd’s enthusiasm.

“Did you really get shot, Jace?” an excessively loud fan yelled from behind the barrier fence in front of the stage.

Sed promptly spun Jace around and pulled his shirt up to reveal the large bandage on his right shoulder. “He got shot fuckin’ twice, dude. Brutal, huh? He doesn’t look it, but he’s a tough little shit. If it were me, I’d be flat on my back.”

“Kinda like that time you took a whole week off after you burst a blood vessel in your throat?” Trey asked.

Sed scratched his head and grinned sheepishly. “Uh, yeah, just like that.” Sed flattened his palm over the side of Jace’s head and kissed him on the opposite temple. Jace was too stunned to respond. He’d seen Sed do that to Brian more than once. It was his mark of friendship, but why had he extended it to Jace?

Jace took a deep breath. Sed’s attention was probably just a show for the fans. Jace didn’t mean anything to him. He knew he didn’t.

“Are we going to rub our noses in Jace’s asshole all night, or are we going to play some music for these people?” Jon’s annoyed voice came over the sound system.

“Go get some rest, buddy. We’ll see you near the end of the show.”

Jace lifted a hand at the crowd as he returned to the side stage area. Aggie hugged him as soon as he was within reach.

“They loved you out there,” she said.

“Nah.”

“You honestly don’t see how people feel about you, do you?”

He met her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“There’s so much love in your life, but you don’t recognize it. You won’t let it in. That’s why you feel so lonely, baby. Don’t you get it? It’s not them. They care about you. It’s you. You don’t see it.”