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“Warrick, what are you doing?” I hiss, dragging my feet against the floor as he pulls me past the staff.
“I have a legal obligation to finish this show, but you didn’t keep your ass in place.” He walks us past the safety of the curtain, and my heart beats like a drum. Ramsey just laughs, shaking his head. “I told you, one day you’d fuck around and find out how full-blown feral I am when it comes to keeping you safe. I hope you enjoy the show. Consider this one step up from front-row tickets.”
We take another few steps, and Warrick turns me until my back rests against his chest.
Lachlan York, a member of Ruin, hands Warrick his guitar.
The lights are so bright, it’s impossible to see past the first few rows, but the sounds are intense.
Warrick rests his guitar against my stomach and straps himself in. I’m officially trapped with his arms wrapped around mine.
“I’m so mad at you right now,” I hiss over my shoulder.
The big giant asshole simply lowers his head, nuzzling his cheek to mine from behind.
He’s really lucky he’s hot.
Also that we’re bonded.
And that I love him. He should be very grateful all of those things are true. Otherwise, I might reconsider my stance on prison attire.
“Sorry about that.” Fitz laughs, swiping hair back from his face. “He did warn her not to disappear. I think she probably wasn’t expecting to end up out here, but…” He shrugs. “Surprise.”
“All the alphas in the audience get it. You can’t let your omega out of your sight immediately after bonding. Am I right?” Rook Jacobs cups his ear, gesturing to the audience, and they go wild, screaming their agreement.
“You’ve got that right,” Lachlan says from our other side.
My heart races. I know it’s not their intention, but it does make me feel like a legitimate omega. Who cares if I have a heat? I’ve got a pack of growly, protective men who love me for me. I hope Harvey sees this and feels like a real asshole.
“This is our last one; it’s a Ruin special. Sing along if you know it. Let’s hit it.” Rook strums his guitar, and the audience screams in response. It reminds me I’m on stage in front of thousands of fans.
Ramsey slams away on the drums as multiple instruments join in. Warrick starts a few seconds later as I lean back against his chest. His forearms flex as his scent floods my nostrils. We’re a few feet back and to the left, but I’ve got an excellent side profile view of Fitzy that I would kill to get a shot of. He and Rook move back-to-back as they pluck the strings of their guitars.
Dexter Clark and Lachlan York slide toward the audience as they hit their knees. I guess I figured out why they put everyone in leather pants. It’s full-on chaos as the crowd screams. Those two are definitely the fan favorites for the ladies.
Good, let’s keep it that way.
I’d damn well have to get violent if the ones in the front row were looking at my guys like that.
My whole body shakes with how much Warrick has to move to play such intricate patterns. I glance up at him, but he’s chuckling and shaking his head. His affection hits me square in the chest as it floods the bond.
Oops.
I guess I forgot to block my murderous thoughts.
Oh well, he’s stuck with me.
* * *
Ramsey guides me into a greenroom I haven’t been in before. Fitz and Warrick are at our backs. I recognize some of the faces, like Love and her guys Dexter and Issac, who are members of the band Matted Whine, but there are some I don’t.
The guys from Ruin are also sitting around. Rook has a pretty woman with long blonde hair next to him. On the other side of her is a big guy with short curly hair and dark skin.
“Storm,” the big guy says, standing and offering a hand to Warrick. “We spoke on the phone.” He looks at me. “Hey, how’d you like the photo album?”
My cheeks heat as I realize he’s the tech guy who got copies of all the pictures on my memory card. Not that any of them were explicitly dirty, but a few were questionable. If given the chance, I probably wouldn’t have let them see the light of day.
I still force a polite smile. “It was great. Thank you so much.”
