Chapter Seven
Brian and Candace, waiting outside, looked visibly relieved when Macy and Ghost emerged from the room holding hands.
“Dude, I thought we wer e going to have to take her outside before there was a murder on the floor,” Brian told Ghost while Candace laughed. Macy couldn’t exactly deny it, so she kept her mouth shut, though she did send Brian a narrow look.
Ghost chuckled. “She’s easy to defuse if you know how.”
“I’m glad you’ve figured it out,” Candace said, “because after more than twenty years, I never have.”
“You lack the proper equipment,” Ghost cracked, and the three of them laughed while Macy playfully smacked her husband on the arm.
“Her equipment is just the way I like it,” Brian said, tugging Candace closer. No matter how much time had passed, Candace still lit up when Brian touched her. How could Macy be worried about anything when they were all so lucky to have found each other?
Her mushy thoughts were rudely interrupted, though, by a sudden bellow that erupted down the hallway. “Ghost! Man, are we doing this or what?”
“Coming,” he called back, then cupped Macy’s cheek, his words for her only. “I’ll look for you. And only you.” His eyes flickered to his best friend. “Watch out for her.”
“I will. I’ll get her up front so you can see her,” Brian promised.
Oh God. She had a sudden image of being in a claustrophobic press of writhing bodies, being pushed and kicked and punched and jostled, getting overheated, feeling faint…this was so not her idea of a good time. But it wasn’t for very long, and then they could get out of here and work on much more pleasant things. It was almost over, and the worst had already happened. Hopefully.
Outside, the crowd had pressed close to the stage in anticipation. True to his word, Brian took Candace with one arm and Macy with the other, navigating them around sweaty, intoxicated bodies, bumping past couples making out, herding them through until Macy looked up and was surprised to see the stage directly in front of her. Candace nestled beside her while Brian stood guard behind them, a wall of aggression no one was getting around. Up here, Macy couldn’t see the crowd; she didn’t have the ability to keep an eye on her mortal enemy.
But she supposed there was no reason to. She could do her best to let it go and watch her husband perform.
Wild appreciation went up from the audience when the guys took the stage, and Macy felt a spark of pride and emotion she hadn’t anticipated as she watched her husband prowl his area only fifteen feet or so in front of her, his long fingers hypnotic as they coaxed music from his low-slung guitar.
Eat your heart out, Raina , she couldn’t help but think. Those fingers will be on me tonight.
It was at once strange and euphoric. It was like seeing a secret only she knew broadcast to a club full of people. Of course, many of the people here had probably seen him on the stage before—only Macy hadn’t. She was privy to his private performances, when it was just the two of them and his guitar. From the very first night she’d spent at his house, he’d often played and sang for her. She loved it, and she could almost be jealous of everyone else in this room for getting to witness it, too. But hearing their appreciation nearly made her eyes well up. And she couldn’t do that here, she could not. Certainly it was an unwritten rule somewhere that there was no crying at a live metal gig.
He played his heart out, he hammed it up, he ripped through a monster solo, he sent her winks. Occasionally he sauntered up to the mic and bellowed backing vocals with a snarl that made her contemplate crawling on the stage and attacking him right there in front of everyone. Four songs into a single show, and she was a drooling groupie for her own husband. It was awesome. She found herself whistling and cheering and jumping up and down with Candace at her side.
Why the hell hadn’t she done this before?
Well, in all fairness, she’d tried once. It hadn’t worked out, and then he’d quit the band. She’d never had an opportunity until now, and she’d tried to talk him out of it.
She’d tried to make it all about her. Her problems. Her feelings.
But this…right now, he had to be experiencing what she felt after a phenomenal barrel race, like Candace had said. The power, the euphoria, the adrenaline. He’d never attempted to deny her that high. She knew in that moment that she could never deny him this, either. Not over her silly hang-ups. If he still wanted to do this, she would have to let him.
What that meant for her dreams of family and quiet nights at home, she wasn’t sure, but they would figure it out. There was no reason they couldn’t have both, have it all.
By the time the set wrapped up, she was half deaf with ringing ears and the beginnings of a headache, but she was too amped to notice. Brian grabbed her and Candace by the hands and propelled them both through the boisterous audience toward the backstage area. Raina was no longer even a blip on Macy’s radar, so naturally, as they were threading through the dense crowd, she suddenly found herself face-to-face with the girl.
Shock flared wide in Raina’s gunmetal gray eyes—obviously she hadn’t forgotten Macy’s face, either. Keep going , she thought, ignore her . But her feet wouldn’t carry her forward; they remained planted in place even as Brian tried to tug her away. Candace looked on in alarm.
This woman had tormented Ghost. Macy could only imagine the sort of toxic relationship he’d endured with her. But when he’d finally broken out, she’d manipulated him with threats of suicide, she’d tried to sabotage his relationships, harass his friends, intimidate Macy, and generally made herself a nuisance. And now she was here, most likely knowing he would be, too.
All of that turmoil, wrapped up in the petite, demure-looking package in front of her at this very moment. It didn’t seem possible. Raina recovered her composure, giving an almost imperceptible nod.
“Mace, come on,” Brian urged. But Macy remained frozen to the spot, her mind racing, nothing coming from her mouth.
“I’m glad,” Raina said suddenly, and Macy couldn’t have been more shocked at those words if the girl had slapped her. “I’m glad he’s happy. And I could tell he is. It worried me a little, at first, when I saw he was back.”
You certainly managed to make him miserable enough . But somehow her words managed to crack the ice around Macy’s tongue. “Then why are you here?”
“My husband is old friends with Mark.” Raina gestured to the stage. “The singer.”
Macy nearly choked. Husband? “Oh…well…” What the hell to say? Congratulations? The poor bastard? “That’s…good.”
“You look great, Raina,” Candace put in, ever the friendly peacemaker, even though Raina had never had nice things to say about her, either.
“Thanks. Yeah, I’ve made some changes.” She looked cautiously back to Macy. “Look, I was a mess, and I never expected to see either of you again, but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about all that. I’ve moved on. I’m happy.” She gestured over by the stage, where a tall, long-haired guy was speaking to one of the security guards. He was handsome and oddly distinguished looking, at least for this crowd. “That’s Chris over there. We got married last year.”
“So did Seth and I,” Macy said. “October.”
Raina declined to comment on that. “And we just found out last week we’re expecting.”
For the second time in less than three minutes, Macy thought she was going to choke. Or vomit. She noticed the bottle Raina turned nervously in her hands: water. No alcohol.
“Congratulations,” Candace trilled, bailing Macy out yet again when she felt like she was about to bypass vomiting and burst into tears. “Our son is one now. He’s a handful. We managed to get a night out—”
The conversation faded out. Macy just wanted to get away. She didn’t even know what was wrong; shouldn’t it be a relief that Raina was finally out of their lives for good? A few times, especially close to their wedding, Macy had almost expected her to pop up somewhere like a ghastly jack-in-the-box out of a horror movie, leap out from behind some bushes, or maybe crash the wedding to shriek her reasons why these two should not be joined. All this time, and those fears had been unfounded.
And Raina was pregnant. That was a good thing, but Macy wasn’t, and she couldn’t fight the tiny gnaw of jealousy in her chest.
She looked to Brian helplessly, since Candace was still chattering about Lyric, and Raina was politely attentive. Two mothers bonding. Macy couldn’t take hearing any more. Brian met her eyes over Candace’s blond head, understanding dawning in his expression.
“Babe, we need to go,” he told his wife. In the past he had definitely turned out to be Macy’s ally in many, many ways, and this was one such moment she’d be permanently indebted to him for.
“Well, good luck,” Raina said to them, then to Macy, “and you, too.” Not waiting for the reply Macy couldn’t conjure anyway, she slid away to join her husband by the stage.
She tore her gaze away from the woman’s retreating figure just in time to see Ghost emerge from backstage into the crowd, receiving a round of applause from the people closest to the door.
Macy’s field of vision narrowed to him and him alone. She made a beeline for him.