CHAPTER 21
RYDER
As I watched Ziggy walk away, I couldn’t help but recognize myself in the kid. He was young and green, but he had heart. And apparently, a huge hard-on for Lucky, in more ways than one.
“He’s a goner,” I said to Riot. Riot nodded and smirked.
“Yeah, I saw that from the beginning.”
“Well, we tried to rein him in,” I replied.
“The heart wants what the heart wants,” he said.
“Don’t I know it,” I replied. Hell, I was missing Grace like crazy. If someone tried to separate us, I’d wade through hell or high water to stop that from happening.
She’d decided to sit this job out, staying at home in a sort-of ‘stay-cation’ with the girls back home. I smiled, wondering what they were doing there without us. Probably trying to paint Oliver and Olivia’s claws or something. Those two owls had become part of the family over the years, and we’d all have it no other way. In reality, though, I figured the ladies were holding self-defense training sessions, shooting practice and doing some crazy bootcamp workouts in the woods.
They were bad-ass, all of them. Grace, Cherry, Lacey, and Frankie were four of the toughest chicks I’d ever met. Hell, even the others that didn’t live there at the clubhouse with us blew me away with their strength.
Just like this group of guys that were currently looking to me for our next move. I felt terrible that we’d fucked up so badly. I say ‘we’ even though Fury, Eli and Nate were taking full blame for the situation. I didn’t accept that, though. This was on my watch.
“I guess we go home now,” I said. “Riot, you want to call Grace and ask her and the girls to bring the vans to pick us up?”
“Will do,” Riot said, turning away and pulling out his phone.
At least we’d not left Portland yet. The clubhouse was only an hour away, tucked deep into the Tillamook forest. A far cry from the urban jungle that surrounded the Moda Center.
“In the meantime, I guess we can find an open bar,” I said to the rest of the guys. The crowd had thinned outside, with most of the concert’s attendees having either left or retreated into the handful of restaurants and bars attached to the arena. The group of us was headed towards the closest open door when my phone rang. It was Ziggy. I answered on the first ring and couldn’t suppress my smile at his words.
“Bring everyone back, we’re not fired.”
CHAPTER 22
ZIGGY
The tour bus rocked side to side, traveling south down I-5 in the dead of night. Trailing behind us, the convoy of other buses followed.
Lucky’s bus was quiet and dark, lit only by the line of rope lights that trailed along the edge of the bunks and cabinets. Blade and I sat in the leather seats, a tiny table between us, as we played hand after hand of poker. Lucky slept soundly in her tiny bedroom in the back of the bus, curtained off from the front. Only the driver shared the bus with us, everyone else scattered in the others.
The Gods were all sharing one bus, and I smiled wondering how that was working out. They were all huge men, crammed together like a bunch of sardines. Lucky’s handlers had a bus of their own and the band and crew each had their own as well.
I shuddered to think of the amount of money spent in fuel alone. Even after just a short time observing Lucky’s life, it was easy to see that this life wasn’t cheap or easy. Everyone earned every penny they made, working their asses off day and night with few breaks.
Hell, no wonder Lucky ran off to random bars and pretended to be someone else now and then. Who wouldn’t want an escape?
The burden must be heavy on her, I thought. And yet, she carried it well. She was strong as steel, even if she broke down now and then. Her responsibilities alone were overwhelming to think about, and once you put the threat of Nicholai, and all she’d gone through, in the mix — well, I was surprised she was still standing, to tell you the truth.
“You’ve got it bad for her, huh?” Blade asked, his voice a whisper in the darkness.
“What makes you say that?”
“You can’t stop looking back there,” he said, “like you can’t breathe until she walks out or something.”
“Jesus, dude, am I that obvious?”
“Yep,” he nodded, staring down at his cards. “Kinda pathetic, if you ask me.”
“Well, I didn’t!” I snapped, immediately regretting it. “Sorry, I’m a little on edge. I’m out of my element here. I don’t know how to handle all this shit. Fuck, one minute I’m having a beer in a bar and the next I’m in charge of keeping the biggest rock star on the planet safe. I wasn’t exactly planning this. It’s a lot to get my head around.”
“Not to mention your feelings for her.”
“Feelings,” I scoffed.
“Dude,” he shook his head.
“It’s obvious, right,” I muttered. Fuck. Here’s the deal. I thought I had game. I thought I was subtle, smooth, you know?
Hell, I thought I was good at poker, which I clearly am not, since Blade’s already cleaned my wallet of cash in just a few hands. But I’m a ladies man. I play the field, I like variety, I like to spice things up.
Settling down — having feelings — is not something I do. In fact, it’s so far away from anything I’m used to, I can’t even admit them to myself.
Blade put down his hand, showing me a full-house that beat my lousy pair of eights.
“Shit.”
“Dude, you need to get your shit together. Get your head in the game. Forget about romance for now, or you’re going to fuck everything up.”
“That’s what I keep hearing.”
“Well, believe it. Look, we’ve got a long day tomorrow. I’m gonna crash. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I nodded, watching all my money disappear into his pocket. A moment later, I sat alone at the table, a full glass of whiskey at my side, and my head filled with a million thoughts.
I pulled out the blue prints of the Hollywood Bowl that Riot had shared with me, spread them out on the table and began studying every entrance, exit and hallway like my life depended on it.
Because it did.
If anything happened to Lucky, I’d never be the same.