CHAPTER 43
NICHOLAI
A new day, a new mask.
Today, I was one of the backstage crew. After spiking one of the drum techs drinks, I followed him back to the tour bus after he got sick, promising I’d give the message to the production manager that he’d be out for the night. Instead, I hacked together a quick disguise and showed up in his place. The rest was easy. Blending in, jumping in on short conversations, laughing in all the right places, pretending I knew what I was doing. The day flew by and by the time Lucky arrived to go on stage, I was pulsing with excitement about being so close to her for so long.
I knew she’d gotten my message and it thrilled me knowing how rattled she must be. Of course, her group of bumbling idiots had finally figured out I was tracking her on her phone, so they’d taken that away, but that was fine.
I was getting tired of watching her fuck that pretty boy anyway.
She arrived in a flurry of activity, surrounded by at least ten of the bikers, like some modern-day version of a West Side Story gang going to rumble. It was comical. And desperate.
Because she actually thought they could keep me away from her.
It was pathetic, really, when you thought about it. She should know me better than that. The crowd of beefcake parted and Lucky appeared, but instead of holding Ziggy’s hand like she had been the last few days, she was turned away from him, her arms crossed in defiant anger.
I stepped closer to get a better look.
The Gods disbursed to their posts, leaving the two of them alone on the side of the stage.
“Lucky, it doesn’t have to be this way,” I heard him say, his voice low.
“You’re useless!” she cried. “I’m letting you stay for tonight’s show, but that’s it! You’ve screwed up too many times, you’re fired!”
“Lucky, please!” His begging and groveling were enough to make me hard.
“No, Ziggy!” she seethed. “Don’t you see? You were just a good lay, that’s all. And now it’s over. Did you really think you could worm your way into my bed and my heart?”
“Are you saying you don’t care about me?” he asked.
“Care about you?” she repeated. “All you were was a hard dick. You’ll never live up to what I need. In or out of bed. You should book your flight home, in fact, book them for everyone, I want you all gone by tonight.”
It took all I had not to burst out laughing. Lucky had a sharp tongue and she was giving this guy such a harsh lashing with it, I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“Lucky, it’s not safe to leave you alone!” he insisted. I shook my head. This guy doesn’t know when to quit, I thought.
“Safe? What do you know about safe? You guys have done nothing but fuck up over and over. I’ll tell you when I was safe. Before all this shit went down, when everything was easy and normal and made sense — before — before, well before I broke things off with Nicolai!”
My eyes widened in surprise. Was that nostalgia I heard in her voice?
“Lucky, that doesn’t make sense. Nicholai is your enemy.”
“Is he, Ziggy? Is he really?” She grew quiet, her eyes searching his, before she turned away abruptly, calling over her shoulder as she walked on stage. “Book those flights.”
He turned away in disgust, his head down as he went to confer with his buddies. Lucky started the show with a hearty wave to the crowd, followed by a roar of a greeting from her adoring fans.
And then, she did what she always did.
She gave them what they’d come to see.
Every ounce of blood, sweat and tears the woman possessed came pouring out of her like a fountain. She held nothing back, leaving all her emotions on the stage, and two hours later, she was absolutely glowing.
This was the Lucky I’d fallen in love with.
The one I’d created.
The one I’d molded into this beautiful, light-filled goddess and gifted to the world.
This was my girl.
She did two encores, ignoring Ziggy each time she came backstage, despite his best attempts to get her to talk to him. You could see the devastation on the guy’s face and I loved it.
I tried not to smile too much.
And when, on the last song of her last encore, I heard the familiar chords of a song I hadn’t heard her play in months sound out from the guitar, my eyes widened in surprise. Over the intro music, Lucky began speaking.
“This is a song I’ve never played in public. It goes out to someone very dear to me. I don’t know if he’s listening, but if he is, I want you to know I’ve made a big mistake. I hope you’ll let me make it up to you one day.”
And then she launched into the song — our song — the one she wrote for my wedding present, the one she’d played only once for me — the day before she stood me up at the alter, before everything changed, when it was just the two of us, Nicholai and Lucky against the world, just as it had always been.
Like it always should have been.
Skepticism rushed over me, but the emotion in her words, the way her voice cracked as she sang those words, so tenderly expressed, so intimate, so private, I knew she couldn’t fake that.
Maybe she’d come to her senses after all.
Was that really possible?
Had she really fired those goons?
Was this all really over now?
Excitement surged through my veins and as she came off stage, brushing by me quickly, I saw the tears staining her cheeks and a faint twinge of hope was borne deep inside of me.
I watched her brush past Ziggy again and couldn’t help but smile after her.