Текст книги "Wicked Beat"

Автор книги: Olivia Cunning

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

Chapter 9

The next afternoon, the band caught up with the equipment truck and the other tour bus at the venue. The crew had arrived several hours earlier and were already setting up the stage. Rebekah picked up Dave’s notebook and headed off the bus to help with assembly.

“You’d better get busy on those drums,” one of the roadies said to her. “You’re late.”

“Late?” She followed the man up the ramp onto the truck.

“Yeah, late,” he said. “Dave doesn’t put the stage and lighting together, but he does set up the drum kit to get the mics right and that takes quite awhile. You’d better get busy.”

Rebekah didn’t know how to set up a drum kit. She had Dave’s instructions on how to set up mics in strategic locations around a drum kit, but she had no idea how to assemble Eric’s instrument.

“I’m not sure if I’m the right person for the job. And I didn’t catch your name.” Rebekah judged the man to be in his mid-forties. A bit soft in the middle, he had a receding hairline and a few flecks of gray in his otherwise dark hair. He had a mean look about him, but probably because he was scowling at her.

“Marcus,” he said.

Rebekah smiled brightly. “Oh, you’re the other soundboard operator, right? Dave told me all about you. He said I could count on you if I needed help. I’m Rebekah.” She extended a hand in his direction, but he ignored it.

Marcus snorted and pushed an equipment case toward the ramp.

“We don’t have time for a chat. Get busy, girl.”

Girl?

Rebekah would have loved to help, but she honestly had no idea where to begin. “Just tell me what to do, and I’ll get to work.”

“I’m just the monitor engineer, boss. You’re in charge. Figure it out yourself.” His nose crinkled in displeasure, he pushed the case down the ramp, leaving Rebekah to stand bewildered in the back of the truck.

She had never expected this to be easy, but she had no idea that she’d be in charge of setting up the drum kit. She thought about calling Dave and asking him for advice, but decided against it. She needed to take responsibility and do her job. It was the job she wanted, after all. She set Dave’s notebook on top of an amplifier and reached for the nearest equipment case. Putting her weight behind it, it creaked forward an inch after much exertion and grunting. The roadie with the blond mohawk, Jake, entered the truck. He chuckled at her.

“You know, the wheels actually roll if you unlock them.” He bent over and flipped the locks on the wheels.

Rebekah almost fell on her face as the case rolled forward with no resistance.

“Let me help,” Jake offered.

Together they directed the rolling case down the ramp. Jake held most of the weight, but Rebekah worked hard to help keep it on track. “Marcus says I’m supposed to assemble the drum kit,” Rebekah said, “but I don’t know how. Can you show me?”

“Ask Eric. He’s really pissy about everything being in exactly the right spot.”

Rebekah couldn’t stop heat from rising into her face. “He does know exactly the right spot,” she murmured. And apparently, Eric’s propensity to say exactly what he was thinking, no matter how inappropriate, was already wearing off on her.

“You and Eric?” Jake said. “Really?”

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Rebekah said sternly. She attempted to hide a grin but wasn’t able to keep a straight face. “We totally got it on last night.”

Jake’s grin spread ear-to-ear. “Right on!”

Once they had the equipment case in the building, Rebekah went in search of Eric. She found him laughing with Jace outside the bus. As soon as Jace spotted her, he turned beet red.

He offered Rebekah a slight wave and headed for the bus steps.

“Later, Eric.”

Eric gifted Rebekah with a brilliant smile. “Hey, gorgeous, what’s up?”

She flushed with pleasure. “I was wondering if you have time to show me how to set up your drum kit properly.”

He glanced at his wrist. He wasn’t wearing a watch, but said, “I think I have the next hour open. If you don’t mind listening to me sing the chorus of ‘Sever’ over and over the entire time. I need to practice.”

“Is that the new single?” she asked eagerly.

“Yep. Have you heard it yet?”

She shook her head.

“Don’t listen to the radio much, do you?”

“Do they play it a lot?”

“It’s number one on the rock charts.”

She hugged him. “That’s awesome. Congratulations! We’ve got to make the song sound amazing tonight.” Just the thought of putting her little stamp on a Sinners’ song had her euphoric.

Eric stopped walking to keep her securely in his arms. Just as he had all last night while they’d slept and touched. It had taken every shred of her willpower not to engage him in lesson two. Watching him pleasure himself every time he got too excited to hold back had really turned her on. Not that she’d come away from the experience unsatisfied. On the contrary, he’d made sure she received more than her fair share of pleasure.

“We really need to rehearse.” His hands gently massaged her lower back as he kept her near. She melted against him, relishing his touch. He was so free with his affection. How could she not respond with complete surrender? And even more perplexing, how was he still single? “Is Jon here yet?” he asked.

He switched from one topic to another so quickly it made her head spin.

“Jon? Jon Mallory?” Dave had mentioned that Jon had been on tour with Sinners when they’d done the Canadian leg of the tour, but Dave had said something about Sed never wanting Jon near the band again.

“Yeah, Jon is supposed to play thirty seconds of Jace’s bass line while Jace plays piano for ‘Sever’s’ intro.”

“I haven’t seen him.” She would have remembered seeing Jon.

He was even better looking than Trey. At least in Sinners’ old music videos he had been. She’d never seen him in person. He had piercing gray eyes and thick black hair that hung in loose curls around his perfectly proportioned face.

“He had better show up,” Eric said. “This is his last chance. I won’t stick my neck out for him again.” Eric squeezed her. “I need to kiss you now.”

She chuckled at his mind-boggling change of subject and tilted her head to offer her mouth. “If you insist.”

“I do.” He kissed her until her head was spinning, and she was clinging to his hard body for support. “Now I’m all hard and excited,” he murmured into her ear. “Is it time for lesson two yet?”

“Not until tomorrow.”

“Damn it. Well, let’s go set up a drum kit. Maybe it will allow me to think of something besides rubbing my cum all over your sweet little ass.” His hands slid down to grip her butt.

Maybe she should be offended by his crass compliment, but it made her heart sing. She couldn’t help but smile when he took her hand and led her into the venue through the back entrance.

The stage had already been assembled by a combination of temporary workers and Sinners’ regular roadies. Marcus was barking orders like a general. He scowled when he noticed Rebekah. That scowl deepened when he saw that Eric was holding her hand.

“Your drums are behind the stage,” Marcus said, before turning to find some other temp to bellow at.

“He doesn’t like me,” Rebekah told Eric.

“Do I need to kick his ass?”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“I’ll do it. I will. Say the word.”

“Stop it, Eric. Let’s get your drum kit set up.”

They started with the bass drums. He explained how important it was to get the three of them in the proper order. “Or I’ll sound like shit.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

They worked on the toms next and then the cymbals.

He placed his stool in the center of the kit and took a seat.

“Something’s missing,” he said. “Something that usually sits between my legs here.” He pointed to the empty space between his thighs with both hands.

“Your snare?”

He tugged her body in front of him. “Nope, it’s you.”

He retrieved a set of drumsticks from the inner pocket of his black leather vest and tapped a cymbal to his left before entering into an amazing drum solo. She wasn’t sure how he managed to keep a beat and try to remove her shirt with his teeth at the same time, but she was laughing so hard by the time he finished that her stomach ached. He had a couple inches of her belly exposed and blew a loud raspberry on her skin. She laughed even harder.

“My snare sounds a little off. I think a few adjustments are necessary,” he said.

She straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around his lower back. “Is that better?”

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly. “Maybe move it a bit closer so I can reach it properly.”

She snuggled against him, pressing her breasts into his hard chest, her face into his neck. She inhaled his scent and couldn’t seem to stop herself from sucking gentle kisses over his throat.

“Gah! Boner time,” he said and wrapped both arms around her to shift her closer. He wasn’t just saying that to make her giggle until her cheeks hurt. He really was hard. She felt him against her mound.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing the heat between her thighs against him. He groaned and kissed her forehead. “If you don’t stop encouraging me, I’m going to tell you all the things I want to do to your hot little body and embarrass the hell out of you.”

“Try me,” she murmured, kissing the sexy cleft in his chin and then sucking his lower lip into her mouth.

“Are you going to fuck her right here in front of everyone?” an unfamiliar voice said from the other side of the drum kit.

Rebekah swiveled her head and caught a glimpse of Jon Mallory before Eric and the stool toppled backward, taking her with it. A cymbal clanged.

“Ow,” Eric protested.

His body had cushioned her fall.

“Are you okay, Reb?” Eric asked.

She grinned at his concern. “Me? You’re the one who hit the floor.”

“Who’s the girl?” Jon asked, circling the drum kit and offering a hand to Eric. Rebekah tried not to stare. Jon had aged twenty years since she’d seen him on TV last and that had only been five years ago.

“Our new FOH,” Eric said, climbing to his feet and helping Rebekah scrape herself off the floor.

“No shit? What’s your name, sweetheart?”

She offered Jon a friendly smile. “Rebekah.”

“Jon.”

“Well, yeah. I think I know who you are.”

He grinned, his gray eyes sweeping up her body. “I suppose this is the reason Marcus has his panties all in a bunch. He about took my head off when I asked him where my bass was.”

“He best be getting over it,” Eric grumbled.

Rebekah understood why Marcus was upset, but she wasn’t going to relent and give up her position as FOH, even if he did have seniority. She had to live up to Dave’s expectations, and the band’s, and most importantly, her own. “I suppose I should get to work on the mics,” she said. “You guys ready to rehearse?”

“I’d rather keep you as my snare,” Eric said and wrapped both arms around her back.

“Sounds pretty violent,” Jon said.

“Keeps her between my legs.”

“Wouldn’t you rather be between hers?”

“Maybe someday,” she said and wriggled out of Eric’s grasp.

She shuffled through equipment cases and found the microphones she’d read about in Dave’s notes the day before. She set them up from memory, making sure they were in the right location and the perfect distance from the drumheads.

“You sure you haven’t done this before?” Eric asked as he watched her set things up.

“I have done this before. In college and on-the-job training. I just never got paid before. Besides, Dave gave great instructions.”

Speaking of, she’d left the notebook in the equipment truck. She’d probably need it to figure out the wiring configuration. “I’ll be right back.” She headed out of the venue and into the truck, which was now empty. The amplifier she’d left her notebook on was gone. The notebook, also gone. Rebekah’s heart sank. She raced back into the building and found Jake changing the strings on one of Trey’s guitars.

“Hey, Jake, have you seen a wire-bound notebook with a black cover? I left it on an amp in the truck, and it’s gone.”

“Sorry, sweetie, haven’t seen it. Maybe Marcus or Travis know where it is.”

Rebekah asked Travis next. She really hoped Marcus hadn’t been the one to find it. He’d probably give her a hard time for needing it. Travis was helping someone she hadn’t met set up a light panel behind the drums. “Hey, Travis!” she called. “Have you seen a notebook around here? I left in the truck.”

“Sorry, sugar, haven’t seen it.”

“I think Marcus might have it,” the temporary roadie said.

Great.

“What’s the matter, Reb?” Eric asked. He had his snare in place now and was shifting his drums and cymbals around slightly to get them lined up to his preferred specifications.

“Nothing,” she assured him. Her heart was thudding as she approached Marcus, who was connecting wires to a soundboard next to the stage. She really didn’t want a confrontation with the guy.

“Um, Marcus?” she asked.

He glanced at her and then turned his attention back to his work. “What?”

“I seem to have misplaced my brother’s notebook. Have you seen it?”

“Nope.”

He plugged in another wire, and she could tell their conversation was over. She wasn’t sure if she believed him or not. He probably knew exactly where her notebook was, but she wasn’t going to accuse him. The guy already hated her enough.

“Okay, thanks,” she said.

She could probably hook up most of the sound equipment from memory. It was the nuances of Dave’s specific configuration that concerned her. She wanted everything to be perfect for this show.

She wanted to make a good impression on the band. She wanted to prove to them that she could do this job and prove to herself that she wasn’t destined to be a failure in everything she tried.

She got to work. Since Eric was already at his drum kit, she did his sound check first. Within two minutes, Marcus headed over to bitch at her. “You need to get the guitar amps hooked up before you start the drum sound check.”

Even though he was standing way too close to emphasize his height, she didn’t back down. Not an inch. “You do things your way, and I do things mine.”

Marcus stared with his mouth hanging open. She turned back to her soundboard, ignoring him as he stood gawking after her. By the time she had Eric sounding awesome, the crew had the white baby grand piano set up stage right. She worked out a few different mic setups. Eventually, Jace wandered in to help her get the piano acoustics right by playing the intro to “Sever” over and over until she was satisfied with his sound.

“Sounds great, Reb!” Travis called from the stage rigging high above. He was doing something with a laser light and trying to get it lined up with the piano. The shiny white paint would pick up the colors of the light show. Rebekah couldn’t wait to see it in action.

“Don’t blind me while I’m playing,” Jace called up to him.

“Do you mind playing it one more time?” Rebekah said. “I think I’ve got it, but I want to make sure.”

Jace grinned and nodded. The guy was so freakin’ cute with his bleached blond spikes and dark beard stubble. His sweet little smile coupled with the downward cast of his dark eyes had her momentarily befuddled. When Jace’s fingers swept across the keyboard, she snapped out of it.

“That piano intro is awesome, Jace,” Rebekah said as he finished the piece again. “Did you write it?”

Jace flushed and shook his head. “Brian wrote the original as a guitar solo, and Eric adapted it to the piano. I just play it.”

“Does the new album have a lot of piano segments?”

Jace shook his head again. “Just a couple. We weren’t sure how the fans would respond. So far, they seem to like it.”

Eric appeared next to Rebekah. “Understatement. The single is doing better than any in our past. Tripod, you rule!” Eric knucklebumped Jace, who beamed at his compliment.

Jon Mallory wrinkled his nose and kept trying to get the bass line of the song right. Since it wasn’t one of the songs he’d written when he’d been part of the band, Jon had never played it before. Which was quite obvious by the chaotic sounds coming from his instrument.

“Damn it. I cannot get this triplet thing,” Jon complained.

“Why the fuck did you have to make it so complicated?”

“Because Tripod is awesome,” Eric said. “I inspired him to become a bassist, you know.”

Rebekah smiled at his obvious pride. “I did not know that.”

“I wish I’d never told him,” Jace said. He slid from the piano bench. “I’m never going to live it down.”

“A man’s got to brag when he has a reason to,” Eric said and pounded Jace on the back enthusiastically.

Rebekah laughed. “I think you’re supposed to be humble about stuff like that.”

“Psssh, fuck that. Always take credit where credit is due.

Especially when you’re solely responsible for inspiring the best bassist who ever lived.”

Jace flushed.

“Whatever,” Jon grumbled.

“Come on, Jon,” Jace said. “I’ll work on the bass line with you.”

He strode over to the side of the stage and picked up his shiny black bass guitar.

Jon looked torn between offense and gratitude. He sighed loudly and nodded. “I don’t want to fuck it up. Sed’s looking for a reason to hire a studio musician and send me packing.”

“You could always play a recorded track,” Rebekah suggested.

Eric looked at her as if she’d just called his mama a fat whore.

“No?” she said.

“No fucking way. I can’t believe that you’d even suggest it. What do you think we are? Fucking cop-outs?”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t think I can ever forgive you.” He turned his back and strode off.

She watched his retreating back for a scant minute before chasing after him. She must have pushed the wrong button. She hadn’t meant to. When she caught up with him in the middle of the stage, she grabbed his arm and hurried to get in front of him. “I’m sorry, Eric. I didn’t know—” His attempts to keep a serious expression failed, and his scowl faltered into a grin. “Gotcha.”

Rebekah poked him in the belly, and he laughed. “You were teasing me?”

“Not really. We’re known for our live performance. We really wouldn’t consider using a recorded track, but I’m not really offended that you suggested it.”

“Then why—”

“So you’d pay attention to me.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to your in-your-face honesty.”

His brow crinkled with concentration. “Is it a bad thing?”

“No, just not normal.” She bit her lip. That had come out entirely wrong. He just laughed.

“Normal is boring. I thought we were in agreement on that.”

Well, yeah, but while she struggled to be different, it came naturally to him. In a strange way, she envied his freedom to be himself.

“You are definitely not boring,” she told him. “I can’t keep up with you.”

“I think you’re doing a great job, actually. Most girls would have given up on me by now.”

She found that hard to believe. “Well, I’m not most girls.”

“That’s what I like about you most.”

And there he was just blurting it all out in the open, giving her no time to reflect or ponder or wonder. She knew exactly where he stood. She found it strangely refreshing after all the head games her mother and Isaac had put her through over the past several years.

“I haven’t decided what I like about you most,” she said with a teasing grin. “There’s just so much to like.”

Eric’s breath caught, and she found herself wrapped in his long arms and crushed against his hard chest. “Where have you been all my life?” He kissed the top of her head, his heart thudding like a bass drum against her ear.

Someone cleared his throat behind them.

“Go away,” Eric insisted and squeezed Rebekah more tightly.

“We need to rehearse, Sticks,” Sed said in an amused tone. “You can cuddle with your new girl later.”

Eric eased away slightly, and she craned her neck to look up at him.

“Can I cuddle with you later?” he asked her.

“I’d rather you watch me shower,” she whispered.

His entire body stiffened. Yes, his entire body. “Uh.” He squeezed her tightly again. “Are you serious?”

“Shhh. Go rehearse. I’ve got work to do.”

Once she got the guitar amps in sync with the soundboardTrey and Brian were phenomenal—she returned to the stage to hook up Eric’s vocal mic.

“I think we’ll have to go with a headset model,” she told him.

“You can’t flail around like you normally do, or it will fly off.” He held still while she slipped a headset into place and adjusted it. “Is that comfortable?”

“Do I look like a fighter pilot?” he asked, looking up at her from his stool with flashing blue eyes.

She grinned. “I don’t think that haircut is regulation, soldier.”

She leaned closer to whisper in his ear. “Do you like to play dress-up in the bedroom?” She’d always thought it would be fun to pretend she was someone else while making love, and him asking if he looked like a fighter pilot had her envisioning multiple scenarios. Isaac had thought she was ridiculous when she’d mentioned wearing costumes.

Isaac had thought most of her ideas were ridiculous. He was a very straitlaced individual. Very proper. A good man. He deserved a good wife. One who could give him children.

“What—you mean like you’d be an Amazonian woman and I’d be a fallen fighter pilot whose plane went down in the jungle? And because you saved my life, I must serve your every sexual fantasy to repay you?” he gushed.

Every guy in the crew and band laughed. Eric’s mic was on. He glanced around nervously, his face flushed.

“Yeah, exactly like that,” Rebekah murmured into his mic.

The laughter changed into tortured mutterings.

“Fuck, yeah. Let’s go.”

She pecked him on the lips and then stared into his eyes. “That was a rhetorical question.”

He slapped himself in the forehead. “You are very hard on my anatomy, baby.”

“You are really going to enjoy lesson two tomorrow,” she whispered into his ear and stepped away.

He growled and then entered into a spontaneous drum solo that had both arms and legs moving at a blur.

With Eric’s microphone, the final piece, in place, Sinners rehearsed their new song from beginning to end. Rebekah forgot her job duties for a moment as she watched in utter awe. Jace’s piano intro dropped her jaw. Jon had gotten the hang of the new bass line, and it was hard and heavy. Brian and Trey’s guitar riffs sounded sensational.

Sed’s vocals unparalleled. When they reached the chorus, Eric’s voice came through the speakers, and Rebekah’s knees went weak. She didn’t think anything could top the combined vocals of Sed’s roars and Eric’s melody until Brian and Trey entered their dueling guitar solo in the middle of the song. Over a minute of six-stringed perfection, topped off by a short solo at the hand of Jace, who took over bass after he finished his piano intro. Eric’s drum line tied it together with a perfect rhythm, and Rebekah remembered why she’d fallen in love with this band’s music. They were perfect. It wasn’t until the song ended that she realized she should be making adjustments with the equalizer. She didn’t know if it was possible to improve what was already that exceptional. She put on her headset and spoke into her mic, which fed into the earpieces of the band members on stage and a few of the crew who needed to hear instructions.

“That was amazing, guys. Can we do that again from the top so I can make a few adjustments?”

“Reb, you sound so sexy,” Eric’s voice came through the loudspeaker.

“And I thought Brian was the romantic retard of the group,” Sed teased, but he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Well, she does, doesn’t she?” Eric persisted.

“I am in total agreement,” Trey said. “I’d much rather listen to Rebekah’s sexy voice than Dave and Marcus.”

Rebekah’s heart thudded in her chest. What was it about Trey Mills that worked a girl up so quickly? It was as if the timbre of his voice linked to some seduction center in the brain and demanded instant submission to his will. He didn’t even have to try.

They worked through the afternoon. The guys didn’t seem to mind Rebekah’s nitpickiness at all. Apparently, it was as important to them that they got the song perfect as it was to her. She’d never felt as blessed as she felt working with such a professional and talented group of musicians as Sinners. They’d worked straight through lunch, and the opening bands wanted their turn at a rehearsal before the show, so they adjourned backstage for a meal.

The venue had provided snack trays of lunch meat and cheese and crackers. Veggies and dips. Fruit and snack foods. Nothing worthy of feeding hardworking men. Rebekah wished she had time to cook them a great meal. She’d be sure to make it up to them the following night. While she filled her own tiny plate with bits of roast beef and cheddar cheese and miniature pieces of bread, Eric cut in line to stand beside her.

“You’re doing a great job,” he said.

She glanced at him and smiled. “You sound surprised.”

“I think we were all kind of worried that Dave wanted you to take his place just to make you happy, but you’re actually great. I’d hire you even if you weren’t related to Dave.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m glad you approve.”

His breath stirred her hair as he leaned close to her ear. “Are you ready for that shower now?”

She chuckled. “After the show. Okay?”

“No, not okay. I need to see you naked as soon as possible.

You’ve been driving me crazy all day.”

Goose bumps rose along the nape of her neck. And that wasn’t the only thing rising. Her nipples hardened. Heat and moisture flooded her suddenly throbbing pussy. She pressed her arm against Eric’s, consumed by the need to touch him, and she wanted to touch so much more than his arm.

“Who’s holding up the line?” someone hollered from the opposite end of the long table.

Rebekah snapped back to her senses and added things to her plate again. “Later,” she whispered. “Though I can’t say I’m not tempted.”

A portable picnic table had been set up for their utilization, and Eric squeezed next to Rebekah on the bench.

“This isn’t enough to feed a sparrow,” Sed complained. “I’m freakin’ starving.”

Rebekah supposed muscle-bound hunks required more calories than she did. “I’ll cook a huge batch of chicken enchiladas tomorrow,” Rebekah said. “How does that sound?”

Sed glowered at his tiny plate. “Tomorrow-Sed says that sounds fabulous, but right-now-Sed is considering barbequing an event planner.”

“I’ll order something for you guys,” Rebekah said and started to get up.

Eric wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her where she was sitting. “Not your job.”

“But—” Eric grabbed a passing stranger. “Go order twenty pizzas, and get us some cold beer.”

“Uh—”

“Now. And make sure you get a pizza with anchovies and onions for Tripod.”

“And pickles and pineapple for Sticks,” Jace countered.

“Okay, I’ve got to ask,” Rebekah said. “Why do you call him Tripod?”

Jace flushed to the roots of his bleached blond hair.

“Because he practically has three legs,” Eric said. “Two actual legs and the hugest dick I have ever seen.”

“Me too,” Trey agreed and bit into a particularly juicy strawberry.

“And Trey has seen a lot of dicks,” Eric teased.

Trey met Rebekah’s astonished gaze unflinchingly. “That I have. But I’ve been in the mood for something more feminine since Rebekah joined the crew.”

Eric’s arm slid around her back and pulled her body securely against his side. “Look elsewhere, Mills,” he said.

Trey just laughed.

Eventually the pizzas arrived, which inspired the opening bands to join the backstage festivities. It was so noisy that Rebekah went back out to her soundboard to get away from the crowd and to check her programming for the twentieth time. Her first clue that something wasn’t right was the fact that the monitor in the middle of the panel of sliders and switches was dark. She hit the power switch, but nothing happened. She hunted down the power cord next and found that it had been unplugged. She took a deep breath, forcing back her panic, and plugged it in. Who would unplug her soundboard? Now she’d have to reload all her programs back into working memory. Good thing she’d caught it before the show started or she would have been seriously crunched for time.

She reloaded all of the programs but one. The one just entered and saved for “Sever” was gone. She knew she’d saved it. She knew it.

Someone had deleted it.

She could think of only one person who would have the knowhow, much less the motivation, to do something like that. Marcus.

She was so pissed her vision blurred with tears. Had it been possible to shoot forty-foot plumes of fire from her nostrils, she’d have done a very good impression of a fire-breathing dragon. Someone stepped up behind her, and she whipped around to confront the person stupid enough to enter her personal space. She opened her mouth to yell, but snapped her jaws shut when she recognized Eric. No sense in taking it out on him. She blocked Eric’s stunned expression by turning back to her soundboard.

“I brought you a beer,” he said.

“I think I’m going to need something stronger than beer,” she bellowed.

He handed her a silver flask. She took a swig of tequila that singed her nose hairs. Maybe she was breathing fire after all. She shoved the flask in his direction, and he took it from her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Someone deleted the program for ‘Sever.’ The one I just perfected after hours of work. My work. The band’s work. Argh!”

“Someone deleted it? Why would someone delete it? Maybe you’ve just misplaced it.”

The look she gave him over her shoulder made him take a step back.

“Okay, scratch that. Is there a way to recover it?”

“Maybe.” She did have some experience in computer hacking.

She wasn’t sure if it was enough. Eric stood watching the tiny monitor as she keyed in DOS codes. She found the file. Deleted.

About an hour before. When she’d been backstage.

“You see,” she spat. “Someone purposely deleted it about an hour ago.”

“That’s when we were eating dinner.”

“Well, most of us were. Who was missing?”

Eric shook his head. “No one that I remember.”

She couldn’t remember if anyone had been missing from the crew either. She hadn’t been paying close attention. “I know it was Marcus. I know it was.”

“But he was backstage with us the entire time. I saw him.”

In her gut, she knew it had been him, but she was sure Eric wouldn’t lie about seeing Marcus backstage. Eric didn’t lie about anything.

“Can you recover the file?” he asked.

“Yeah. It will be damaged and I’ll have to do some repair, but I think I remember the program and can fill in the missing code.”