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“Oh yeah! Can you say Onyx?”
“Onyx!”
“Knight.”
“Knight!”
“Onyx Knight.”
“Onyx Knight! Onyx Knight! Onyx Knight! Onyx Knight!”
I turned to the wings, looking for Devyn, and she was tapping her foot in time to Tommy’s beat.
She was as ready as she was ever gonna be, and I turned back to the crowd.
“We spent a long time looking for someone special to play with us, you know what I mean? Because I know you all loved Carter. Did you love Carter? We did. He was our brother and our best friend and one of the baddest bass players that ever graced the stage. Am I right?”
The crowd went nuts.
I let them yell and get it out of their systems for a minute.
“And now we honor him by bringing in one of his favorite bass players to pick up where he left off… ladies and gentleman, let me hear you give it up for the newest member of Onyx Knight—Devyn Fucking Cates!”
16
Devyn
There were no words for the way it felt to run out on that stage.
At the fucking Whiskey.
I’d been coming here my entire life.
And dreaming about playing for my hometown crowd.
Now it was happening.
Fuck yeah.
I hit a series of notes on my bass, letting the rich, heavy sound bounce over the sound of the audience.
And they were into it, continuing to clap their hands to the rhythm I was pounding out in time to Tommy’s beat. Z joined in, doing a simple but catchy melody, and Kellan was making some cool sound effects by messing with his foot pedal. Kingston grabbed his harmonica and we launched into the opening bars of “Tempo in Reno.” The moment the crowd recognized the song they went wild all over again.
And we were off and running.
I hadn’t performed live in nearly five years and the excitement surging through me was like nothing else. I’d missed it more than I wanted to admit, but I’d thought I’d closed the door on that facet of my life forever. And my reluctance to fully submerge myself in Onyx Knight was more about the fear that I’d like it too much and it wouldn’t work out than anything else.
Because this was epic.
I took a moment to find Greatty in the wings and almost laughed. Instead of sitting in the chair the band had provided, with headphones on to protect her ears, she was on her feet, hands over her head, clapping along with the audience, singing along, and the biggest smile I’d ever seen.
When I met Kingston’s eyes, he grinned at me over his harmonica.
I swung around, facing the audience and letting my body take over.
It knew what to do even when my brain tried to override it.
This was what I’d dreamed of since I was a kid, and the emotional trauma of my last band slowly began to ease as I danced across the stage. Z, Kellan, and I had choreographed a few different routines, and we moved into position just before the bridge. Z loved to swing his guitar around by the strap, over his shoulder and back into place without missing a beat. Instead of doing it in unison, we’d opted to stagger it, one after the other and then back the other direction. During the encore, Kingston would also have a guitar and join us, and it was how we planned to end the show, alternating guitar spins. The last one would hit Z’s hands as Tommy hit the last beat of the drums. And the lights would go out for a few seconds before we came back to take a bow.
