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“We need you for photos.”
I fisted my hands. “I need a minute.”
“I’ll see you in five.”
I slammed through the door. I frowned at the plexiglass window rattling slightly in the frame. It didn’t seem to match the high-end aesthetic of Purgatory.
This must’ve been where Teagan had been this morning.
I stalked down the alleyway then stumbled back a few paces when I spotted the line of people outside the venue. It was a decent-sized club, but definitely not the arenas we were used to.
Glass crunched under my boots. Was this the alleyway Teagan had flown down in terror?
My shoulders ached from clenching every fucking muscle. I was in no headsp
ace to do a damn show. Or maybe I was. Beating the shit out of my skins might actually kill some of this frustration.
But there was no way I could handle fans yet. And I was going to have to.
Soon.
I stuffed my hands into my pockets for my AirPods. My pregame mix of songs was the only thing that chilled me out. Especially after everything that had gone down today, I was edgy as hell.
Screams drove me through a set. But schmoozing required a certain sort of patience I did not have at the moment. Talking was overrated.
Especially when it was the chirpy, incessant small talk of strangers. Since beating people quiet was frowned upon, I normally used a little Godsmack before these sorts of things to keep me sane.
I loved the road with my whole heart. My mom and sister were my number one—then touring. Even more than the actual writing of music. I left that to the rest of the band. Most of our songs were written with a piano and guitar. Some during sessions. Some were simply created on the damn bus.
We actually did most of our recording live in the studio, but I was a beast about using drum fills. It was me or nothing. If I couldn’t do it alone in the song, then it didn’t get used. So, they used a lot of my drums at the very end of the recording and production because songs often went through a ton of changes.
But this in between time—when we weren’t really on the road, but not really off, either? Yeah, this was utter shit. And now I was supposed to play nice with reporters or executive VIPs, which were far different than fans.
Fans were the bonus round of this crazy life. There were a few loose screws here and there, but by and large, they just wanted to be in our space for a few minutes and let us know what our music meant to them. Those were the moments that made the endless round of hotels and busses worth it.
Then there were the groupies. For a time, they’d had their place in my life, when this circus was still new and my dick was less discriminatory. When I chased the high of a good fuck to get rid of the darkness and doubt.
Like any drug, it eventually stopped working. At first, I looked for more of it, but I’d never been the guy to pass around girls like they were party favors.
I’d been raised by a strong woman and had a little sister, so there was no way I could compartmentalize that shit for long. I was a helluva lot more discerning these days.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. My warning alarm.
I boosted the volume on Metallica, but I couldn’t turn back time. The worst of the worst was waiting for me.
VIPs were the shit stains on the bottom of my stall boots back at my mom’s ranch.
I wished like hell Teagan and I could get a break tonight. We both could use a quiet night in after today. Some takeout Thai, some music, a few good action flicks. One of the reasons I loved Teagan was she never begged for rom coms. Nah, she went straight for explosions, just like I did.
Even when they haunted me in my dreams.
I closed my eyes and tried to push down the annoyance building. Lila’s admonitions about staying safe cycled through my brain, pushing the music aside. It was my solace. Always had been. But lately, the walls and the noise and now the concern for Teagan were crowding everything else out.
So many rules. More boxes to be trapped in. Security standing like sentry at nearly every access point to the venues. For fuck’s sake, I was trained to find the weak points in a room. It never truly faded to the back of my mind—not even with over five years out of the Rangers.
Now with Teagan potentially at risk? If that fire had been intentionally set, if she had been home…
Fuck.
