Page 5 of The Scream of Hell


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“You got it, girl,” Saint growled.

“Can you manage three more?” I asked Kye. He nodded, and I knew Kye would do it even if we carried him from the stage. Johnno broke into the opening strains of Left Alone, a slow song that was about heartbreak. It had been our second big hit. See me now and What You Missed were more upbeat with a foot-tapping rhythm. The crowd belted the lyrics as The Wild Wind played to Hellfire. Oh, we didn’t make it obvious, but our message was plain. Celt, look at what you missed.

I wiped the sweat from my eyes and checked Jesse was okay. He’d been backstage with Nana and Jed as he always was for our concerts. Jesse was grinning from ear to ear, and Nana and Jed looked excited.

“That was kickass Mom, those final three sent the crowds wild,” Jesse crowed as I dropped a kiss on his head and ran a hand through his hair.

“What a fantastic goodbye. But we need a break, and Kye definitely does,” I replied over the noise. The guys surrounded us, and my eyes met Nana’s.

“That was a change at the last minute,” Nana commented as her eyes searched mine. Kye distracted Jesse, and I mouthed Hellfire at her. Nana’s gaze narrowed, and Jed stepped forward.

“Can you take Jesse back separately? Get him out of here. We have to sign autographs and the usual stuff, and we’ll be along soon? Pick up Chinese if you can? The guys fancy that tonight,” I asked. Nana smiled and nodded.

“The regular order?” she inquired as I ducked into my changing room and pulled out my card.

“Yes, here, Nana, use this. Jesse knows the pin,” I said, handing it to her. Nana instantly tried to give it back, but I shook my head.

“Chey!” Nana scowled.

“Nana! It’s our chance to look after you. Now say thank you, Chey and take my son somewhere safe.” I grinned, and Nana rolled her eyes.

“Fine, but dinner tomorrow is on Grandpa and me,” Nana insisted, and I nodded. No, it wouldn’t be, because one of the guys would pay. No way would they let Nana burn cash on them.

Nana had been a constant through our entire lives, not only taking me on but also adopting (not legally!) the rest of the crew. Zyaire was an only child, and his parents hadn’t understood why he wanted to become a drummer in a band. They spoke often but didn’t understand each other. Nana provided a safe space with no judgement and lots of encouragement for the shy man. Saint and Bridge were a year older than us, but they were always at the motel. Saint was a foster kid, who’d had a stable home, and was still close to his foster parents. They now sunned themselves on a beach in Florida every winter.

Bridge was a latchkey kid. His dad was a nasty drunk, so Bridge bounced around, staying at various homes, but he stayed clean and studied hard. Kye was the only boy in a family of women. His father had done a runner when Kye was five, and we were best friends. He spent most of his time at the motel, getting away from six nagging females who henpecked him. Kye’s mother loved him but didn’t understand how he wanted to be a musician. She often believed the numerous rumours and would phone up, screeching her disapproval. If Kye was lucky, he avoided her when he could. Unfortunately, his sisters were much the same as his mom. Kye credited Nana for him being a decent guy.

Johnno had been our final school friend. He had one brother, a lawyer who his parents thought the world of. They were a middle-class family and often said they were waiting for Johnno to grow out of this phase and take up a job offer with his father. Johnno had no intention of being a nine-to-five man, and as he pointed out, made far more money doing what he loved. His sibling was a jealous little twat who belittled Johnno when he could. Unless it suited him to trot out his younger brother to wheedle his way with something or someone. Or he needed cash. Johnno had wised up and didn’t answer his phone if he saw Ricky’s name flash up.

So no, Nana wouldn’t pay for dinners while we were in Spearfish; the boys wouldn’t let her. Instead, they planned to ruin her as they always did. Jed was easy, a great bottle of whiskey and high-value cigars and a running war on various sports. My grandpa loved to argue, and the guys willingly indulged him. I watched as Nana and Jed, with two security guards, safely moved Jesse away from the chaos that would happen when we stopped to sign photos or personal items.

I changed and showered; it was a big thing to me. I hated being sweaty after a concert, during was okay; that was part of the package. But afterwards, I had to be clean. The others often teased me about it but I couldn’t break the habit. I dressed quickly in a pair of ripped jeans and an off the shoulder gypsy top. I shoved my feet into my favourite boots because fans meant stamped upon toes, and that hurt! As I exited, I saw Kye leaning against a wall, his face white, and I strode over to him.

“Kye, we can leave the signings,” I suggested.

“No, I’m fine. I need food and then bed,” Kye said and drank from a bottle of water.

“Are you sure?” I asked, worried. Kye looked dangerously pale, like a ghost.

“Yeah, babe, let’s get this over with and then you can rest,” Kye smiled, but it was weak. The guys and I enveloped him, keeping Kye safe between us. This was an unusual stance for the band. Usually, they surrounded me. Tonight we had to protect Kye.

The crowd surged as the backdoor opened, and we stepped out. Guards shoved them back instantly, and as we made our way to the limo, we signed autographs and allowed photos to be taken. Twenty minutes later, we hit the vehicle, and it sped away with us to the motel.

Nana and Jed were waiting at their home when we arrived. Yet again, high numbers of security were present as the crowds outside swelled, and people screamed our names. We waved and signed a few more autographs before waving goodbye and entering the reception. Nana was dishing up food, knowing from experience how long it would take us to arrive.

“That smells great!” Bridge said, kissing Nana on the cheek and settling on the sofa. To my amusement, Jesse was shovelling noodles down his throat. Feeding a teenager was a tricky thing. I swear he had hollow legs. Jesse grinned at me, his mouth full, and I shook a finger at him.

“Was it okay leaving Mom?” Jesse inquired, swallowing his mouthful.

“Yeah, the usual, honey. Is that nice?” I said, sitting next to him and sneaking a spring roll. Jesse growled as I bit into it, and I smirked. I loved my son, but he was all about food at this age.

“No trouble?” Jesse asked, and I turned to him.

“I know the dickhead is out there,” Jesse muttered. Damn, how had he seen Tobias? I thought we’d hidden the fact he was there. Jesse was well informed of the dangers Tobias posed. After Tobias broke into our home just before we arrived back from a trip, triggering the security system, we’d had to tell Jesse about him.

“No, Tobias wasn’t there, but be aware, honey.”

“Yeah,” Jesse agreed and shoved another large forkful into his mouth. Jesse shied away from chopsticks simply because he couldn’t scoop up big enough portions with them. I ruffled his hair and rose to fetch my plate when a security guard stuck his head in.

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