Chapter Twenty-One
Isla peeked out from the curtains backstage, scanning the throngs of people as they filled in the venue, packed together like sardines. The electric atmosphere sparking through the room was intoxicating, and that feeling of conquering the world pumped through her as it usually did before she took the stage.
She saw Keith and Jeff standing with security around the stage, and Mark was her constant companion backstage. Sangre had spoken to Jim about beefing up the guards, so their presence was visible. Metal detectors were also installed at the front doors, making her feel safer.
Sangre thought of everything. A hot flush crept up her neck when she remembered the hot sex they’d had the night before. It had been incredible, and he’d been so caring and loving as well as sexy and rough. In the past month since she and Sangre had crossed the line and became lovers, she’d come to know him as a rough around the edges sweetheart. She suspected that she was the only one who saw his soft and playful side and that made what they had even more special.
The night before when he’d told the men at the club party that she was his woman, her insides had turned to mush when she’d heard his words. Even though they spent a lot of time together they hadn’t had “the talk” yet. She wasn’t sure if they were in an official relationship, but when she’d heard him say “my woman” her heart had soared. I also went to his parents’ house for dinner, have met his friends, and went to his club’s party. To her, it meant they were boyfriend and girlfriend—and it thrilled her. Just thinking about it made her tingle from her head down to her toes.
“You doing good?” Sangre’s gravelly voice caressed her. He slinked an arm around her waist and drew her back into him.
“Yeah. Just checking out the crowd. The opening band was good and I know Immortal Sÿnn’s going to rock it. It’s great when a direct support band gets the crowd all fired up. Benz wants them to tour with us in the fall.”
“When did the tour thing happen?” Sangre held her tight.
“I just found out about it at sound check. We leave after Labor Day weekend. We’re touring the coast of California, Oregon, and Washington.”
“For how long?”
He sounds kinda sad or am I imagining it? “A little over a month. I have mixed feelings about it.”
“Why?” He nuzzled her neck.
“Because I’m really going to miss you.”
A pause. “There’s texting and phone calls.”
Texting and phone calls? I thought I was ‘your woman.’ “Yeah, you’re right.”
“You’ve got a sold out show tonight. Good job, honey.” He spun her around and kissed her hard.
I should be thrilled. We’re so close to signing a record deal, our fan base is growing every day, and we’re going on a kickass tour. This is everything I’ve ever wanted, but I’m sad and anxious as hell. If only Sangre could come on tour with me. Would he?
Sangre pulled back and gripped her shoulders as he scanned her face. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“Nothing.”
“Aren’t you happy about the show? Don’t lie to me because I know when you’re down and trying to pretend that you’re not.”
She shook her head. “I’m excited for the show. It’s just that everything seems to be happening so fast with the band. If we end up signing on with a label, it’s a big deal and involves a huge commitment. I mean, my whole life would be taken up with touring and recording.”
“Don’t think about that tonight. Just take it one day at a time. You’re getting all worked up before you even know if the band has a label contract. You guys may decide the terms are shit and not sign with the company. Just enjoy tonight.”
“You’re right.” He always knew how to cheer her up when she was low. He knows me so well.
“Madison is here with some dude. Did you see her?”
“There’re too many people. Did she actually come up to you?”
“Yeah, but she looked scared as shit.” He chuckled. “The brothers are here with their women too.”
“Oh yeah … I have the two CDs for Ella and Zoe. Make sure you bring them backstage after the show.”
The crowd grew quiet as Immortal Sÿnn opened their set with hard pounding, double bass drum beats. Isla stepped away from the curtain. “I need to have some time alone before we hit the stage.”
“Sure, babe.”
“I’ll be in the green room area. There are two security guys who are making sure no one goes down there except for Iris Blue. I’ll see you after the show.” She hugged and kissed him then headed downstairs.
“You want a vodka shot?” Arsen asked as she entered the green room. Benz, Jac, and Gage were sprawled on the two couches, smoking weed and drinking beer. She shook her head.
“You ready for this?” Gage asked.
“For sure. The place is sold out,” she replied as she grabbed a bottled water from the fridge.
“It feels fuckin’ awesome,” Jac said, gesturing her to bring him another beer.
“I can’t wait for Sturgis, then the tour.” Arsen pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
Benz stared straight ahead. He hadn’t acknowledged her since they’d finished with the sound check earlier that afternoon. How the hell are we gonna tour together if he can’t stand the sight of me? She gave Jac a can of Coors then picked up her tote. “I’ll see you guys on stage.” Isla walked out and headed to one of the rooms to do her warm up exercises and meditate—her ritual before every show.
The whistles and cheers from the crowd an hour later meant that Immortal Sÿnn had finished their set, and Iris Blue would take the stage in twenty minutes. Isla went into the green room and smiled at the guys as they pushed themselves up from the couches. As they milled around backstage waiting for the roadies to clear off the equipment of the last band, Isla looked out at the crowd as the background music played.
Isla saw Madison and her boyfriend talking in front of the stage, and spotted Faith and Colt sitting at one of the VIP tables. The crowd kept pushing toward the front stage and she noticed Ella and Zoe shoving their way through the throng. Then Isla noticed Devin standing off to the side, his legs apart, his muscular arms crossed. What the hell is he doing here? She’d seen him a couple of days before at the gym, but he hadn’t spoken to her. He only stared at her, making her so uncomfortable that she cut down her workout just so she could get away from him. Isla felt weird about seeing him in her space. Never once had he mentioned liking Iris Blue’s music or really anything about the band.
“We’re almost ready to go on,” Arsen said behind her. “You feeling the energy?”
Isla nodded. She felt a massive wave of anticipation sweeping across the crowd as people filled in all the spaces on the floor, their eyes focused on the stage, waiting and watching for that first view of Iris Blue walking onstage. Adrenaline pumped through her as her heart raced a mile a minute. She shook out her arms and jumped in place. Then she saw Jon, standing in the middle of the crowd, his dark eyes fixed on the stage. The last thing she’d heard about him from Sangre was that he’d quit his job. She turned around to find Sangre, but saw Mark instead. Before she could tell him about Jon, the stage manager came up to them and held up his hand.
“Get ready. Five, four, three, two, one,” he said.
The background music faded down, and suddenly all the lights went out and there was total blackness. Isla and her band mates scrambled on stage and took their places. Arsen played the first few notes of their opening song and the audience erupted into screams and applause as colored lights lit up the stage and the musicians. Isla picked up the mike and belted out the lyrics, loving how the crowd sang along while they jumped, danced, and swayed. The connection she had with all these strangers was euphoric, and she forgot where she was as she absorbed the music, letting it consume her. When everything worked, performing was better than any drug.
For the next two hours, Iris Blue gave the crowd exactly what they wanted: escape, hard hitting notes, showmanship, and favorite tunes. When they finished their final song, the roar from the crowd was deafening; it’d been a kickass show. The overhead lights went on, and the roadies dashed on stage and began to break down the equipment. Isla followed Jac off the stage and down to the green room. They were on a natural high, pumped with energy, talking nonstop.
Benz grabbed Isla and hugged her tight. “You were fuckin’ incredible, babe.” She hugged him back, and for that moment, they were united in music and camaraderie.
“We all kicked fuckin’ ass out there!” Arsen plopped down on the couch, a bottle of whiskey in his hands. “I’ve got a couple of chicks I’m taking back to the hotel, but first let’s toast the band. We’re on our fuckin’ way.” He poured the amber liquid in five glasses handing them to each member. “To Iris Blue,” he said then downed his shot.
“To Iris Blue,” they repeated in unison.
Benz leaned down. “To you, babe,” he whispered in Isla’s ear before she threw back her shot. “Let’s go back to the hotel and celebrate.”
A low growl from behind her tickled up her spine. She smiled, spun around, and met Sangre’s smoldering eyes. “You did good, honey.” Isla walked over to him and he folded her in his arms. “Let’s you and me celebrate,” he murmured.
Isla gave him a sly smile. “Let me pack up my mike.” She went out and approached one of the roadies and asked him for her microphone. As she wound the cable around it, Skull came over to her with Ella and Zoe in tow.
“Great show,” he said.
“Totally rad,” the two girls gushed.
“Thanks,” Isla said. “Follow me.” She led them to the green room, laughing when the teenagers almost fainted upon seeing Arsen. “Here are some diehard fans of yours—Ella and Zoe.”
Arsen patted the space next to him. “Why don’t you pretty girls come on over?” Isla rolled her eyes. Arsen was the charmer of the group, and women ate it up each and every time. He grabbed a couple of the band’s T-shirts and handed them to the girls. “Compliments of Iris Blue.”
After a while, Arsen, Benz, Jac, and Gage headed to the van. “You sure you don’t wanna celebrate with us?” Benz asked.
“Next time,” she said softly. “I need to talk to some of my friends who’ve been waiting for me at the bar. I’ll see you guys on Monday.”
By the time Isla finished talking with everyone, it was well past one in the morning. When Sangre pulled into her garage, she was relieved that they were home, and all she wanted to do was make love to her man and fall asleep in his arms. They went up to her bedroom and she went over to the window and looked out at the quiet street. Moonlight shone over the trees, lawns, and sidewalks. Isla looked up at the full moon and smiled. Tonight was perfect.
As she stood by the window, she heard Sangre come up behind her, then felt his arms around her hugging her close to him. He bit and kissed her neck, whispering in her ear, “Mine.” She leaned her head back against his chest welcoming the rush of happiness and love as it spread inside her. He cupped her breasts and squeezed them gently.
“Do you have something on your mind?” she said softly.
“When it comes to you, I always have the same thing on my mind. I can’t get enough of you, babe.”
Isla whirled around and snaked her arms around his neck drawing his face close to hers. She pressed her lips to his and kissed him passionately. He slid his hands down her back and cupped her buttocks and lifted her up in his arms. With long strides he took her over to the bed and lay her on the mattress.
“Don’t move. I want to undress you.” He shrugged off his clothes and boots and climbed on the bed, hovering over her. He covered her mouth with his and kissed her hungrily, his tongue pushing past her teeth delving deeper inside. As he kissed her, he undid the buttons on her tight leather top. Sangre’s fingers played with her nipples, teasing them into hard peaks. His mouth left hers then trailed down past her throat, landing on the swells of her breasts. He sucked the soft flesh, and she knew he was leaving his mark on her. She wanted him to cover her body in love bites claiming every inch of her bare skin.
Sangre slowly took her clothes off, piece by piece, kissing and caressing her skin as he revealed it. His gentle yet arousing movement stole her breath. Isla reached out and ran her fingers through his hair as his fingers slipped between her legs to tease the slick, puffy folds of her sex.
A throaty moan fell from her lips. “The sounds you make get to me,” he rasped.
A ball of fire rushed down her spine to right between her thighs. “I need you inside me.” She pulled his hair.
“Not yet, honey. We’ve got all night.”
Isla sank deeper into the mattress and let all sensations overtake her.
* * *
The following afternoon Isla sat on the couch, a book in hand and face scrunched up, writing lyrics for a new song that had come to her that morning. Her phone vibrated and she leaned over and picked it up.
Sangre: Dinner at 6?
Isla smiled. Sangre had gone into the office early that morning to help Eagle figure out the scheduling. He had told her that Saturday nights and Sunday mornings were when people called off work the most. She’d wanted to make him her famous pancakes, but she overslept and he was gone before she woke up.
Isla: Sounds good.
Sangre: Whatcha doing?
Isla: Writing a new song. U inspire me.
Sangre: And u fucking slay me. Later, babe.
Isla: xoxo
A large smile spread over her face and she picked up her pen and went back to writing. The chime of the doorbell broke her concentration, and she jumped up from the couch and went over to the door. Looking through the peephole, she chuckled when she saw Colt standing there. She swung open the door.
“Those girls of yours are killing it. Are they out of lemonade already?” She opened the screen door, motioning him to come in.
“What can I say? The customers love your lemonade.” Colt closed the door behind him. “Am I bothering you?”
“No. I was just writing a new song, but you actually gave me an excuse to take a break.” She went into the living room. “Have a seat. It won’t take me long to whip up another batch. Do you want something to drink while you wait?”
“I’m good. What’s your song about?”
“Love. Isn’t that what most songs are about?” Isla laughed. She bent down to pick up her notebook, and for some inexplicable reason, a finger of nausea poked her stomach. The room was perfectly quiet. She straightened up and turned around startled that Colt was right behind her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. A dark thread of unexplained fear wove through her consciousness.
“I’ll make that lemonade now.” Colt took a step closer to her, pulled out an envelope from his shirt’s pocket, and handed it to her. “What’s this?” she asked, taking the envelope.
“It was delivered to our house by mistake.” His voice was strange and ominous.
Something told her she needed to get away from him. She tossed the envelope on the coffee table. “Wait here. I’ll be right back with a fresh batch of lemonade.” She turned to leave but he blocked her way.
Colt bent down and picked up the envelope handing it to her again. “Read it.”
Isla took the envelope in her shaking hands, her eyes widening when she saw the all too familiar handwriting on it. She looked at Colt and his gaze was cold. She ripped it open and took out the piece of notebook paper from inside. She read it: “Got you.” Isla’s hand flew to her mouth, suppressing a cry from her lips. Her heart hammered against her rib cage, and she jumped away from him.
Then he came for her.