End Note Page 8

  “Yeah, well, until I see a reason to need you on standby, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me alone.”

  Oliver dipped his head in acknowledgment. As rude as I sounded, my anger wasn’t entirely on him. My parents had decided to stick me with a babysitter. They’d hear about it as soon as I had some privacy to call them.

  As long as Oliver stayed out of the way and didn’t report my every move back to my parents, I could deal with him being around.

  “I’m gonna go check in with security. I’ll catch you boys later,” Oliver said over his shoulder.

  Lars and I watched him walk away.

  “That’s a big fucker. I bet he’s ex-military. Seals, maybe a Ranger or some shit. Jesus, even his muscles have attitude,” Lars said.

  I brought my hand up to shield my eyes from the sun. I didn’t want to think about Oliver and what it would mean to have him around, so I changed the subject. “Shouldn’t we be practicing or something?”

  Lars hitched his shoulder. “I’m good. Do you need to run over the songs again?”

  I shook my head. The song lineup we had was one I could play in my sleep. “So we just wait around until it’s our turn to go on stage?”

  Lars had the envelope out and was running his thumb along the top of the bills. “We’re only a few grand short. So fuckin’ close, yet so far away.”

  I turned my back to the sun and dropped my hand. “Yeah, but what’s a few more months after all this time?”

  Lars smiled and stuffed the money in his back pocket, ignoring my question. “So close I can almost taste it.”

  Retro and Licks popped around the front of the bus. Licks lifted his cup and finished off his beer. Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he asked, “Can almost taste what?”

  Lars gave me a warning look. “The beer you forgot to bring me, asshole.”

  He didn’t bring up the money, and I couldn’t help but wonder why. Did he not want them to know about it?

  Licks laughed and handed Lars his cup. “Here, go get your own. The hot blonde at the beer tent said I could have as many refills as I wanted.”

  Retro’s finger came up to point at the clear cup in Lars’ hand. “Her number’s even on there for ya.”

  Lars threw the cup at Retro. He darted out of the way and ran up the stairs of the bus.

  “My cup!” Licks dove for the cup that bounced across the grass.

  Lars got to it first and stepped on it. The plastic cracked, and Licks spewed a string of curse words. “What the fuck, dude? How am I gonna get free refills now?”

  Lars moved his foot back and kicked the cup in Licks direction. “You don’t need anymore refills. We’re going on stage in a little bit. I’d rather you be sober for it.”

  Licks scowled at him, snatched the cup from the grass, and shot him the middle finger before disappearing inside the bus.

  “Thanks for not saying anything. The last thing those two need before we go on stage is to find out about the money. Retro probably wouldn’t say much, but Licks gets cranked right before a show and runs his mouth. A lot. I don’t need him slipping,” Lars said as he stepped up beside me.

  We turned our attention to the crowd that screamed when the band on stage wrapped up another song. “No worries. I won’t say a word. I’ll leave it up to you.”

  I’D CHANGED INTO A PAIR of jeans and T-shirt, not really knowing what to wear on stage. My black boots with the laces untied was the only rocker-ish thing I owned. Riley used to give me a hard time about them. She always said I looked like I didn’t know how to tie my shoes when I wore them that way. My hand went to my chest, and I rubbed the ache that flared up. My first concert was only minutes away, and none of my friends would be there to see it.

  Retro dropped onto the couch beside me. “Whatever you do, don’t go anywhere near the bathroom while Licks is in there.”

  My foot bounced nervously against the floor. A case of the jitters had snuck up on me out of nowhere. Stretching my arms out in front of me, I tried to get rid of the tingly feeling that had set in. “Why?”

  Retro leaned back and kicked his feet out in front of him. Linking his fingers over his stomach, he chuckled. I envied how relaxed he seemed. “Unless you wanna go on stage with makeup on, Bama, you need to steer clear of the bathroom until Licks comes out.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Makeup?”

  “Yeah, he puts that black shit under his eyes,” Retro said as he shuddered.

  Licks came out of the bathroom, black pencil pointed in Retro’s direction. “It’s guy-liner and don’t judge, Mister I-need-to-balance-my-inner-self-before-I-go-on-stage.” Licks spun around and slammed the bathroom door.

  “Guy-liner?” I slapped my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. The last thing I wanted was for Licks to come out and attack me with his man-makeup.

  Retro pushed himself up and propped his elbows on his knees. “Yeah, it’s his thing. I guess it gets him into the zone before we go on stage.”

  “And you? What do you do?” I could use all the help I could get. Getting on stage with a case of stage fright would suck balls.

  Retro stood up and stretched. “We all have our quirks. Lars air drums, and I find a quiet spot to meditate. Licks, he just hogs the mirror.”

  “Before every show?” Could it be that even after all the times they’d played that they still got nervous before a show?

  “You nervous, Bama?” he asked as his eyes raked over my face and the stiff way I held myself.

  “First concert jitters, that’s all.” There was no reason to lie to him.

  “Ah, a virgin.” He laughed. “Just get out there and leave it all on the stage. That’s how I got though my first time. Then once you’ve done it, you’ll know the next time around that it wasn’t so bad—then you become a whore to it. Would do anything to do it. You feel me?”

  Laughter bubbled out of me. “Well, sexual innuendos aside… I think after that analogy, I can handle just about anything.”

  Retro put his hand out. I clasped his wrist and he yanked me off the couch, pulling me towards him. He slapped my back in a one-armed hug and said, “Just do what you do and we’ll bring this crowd to a frenzy.”

  Retro’s weird and twisted way of giving advice worked. I was still nervous, but the kind that always comes with the things you really want. Anticipation—that was more what it was. I really wanted to be out on that stage, listening to the crowd lose their damn minds as we played.

  Murphy, clipboard in hand, with Oliver at her side, walked to the front of the bus. For as big as Oliver was, he didn’t get in Murphy’s way. She scowled at him and then turned to us as Lars came up the hallway and pulled Licks from the bathroom.

  “Time to go,” she said. Turning on her heel, she walked past Oliver. He stepped in behind her, following her off the bus. Lars, Retro, and Licks walked single file behind them. I pressed my hand against my stomach, took a deep breath, and let it out before leaving the bus.

  WE WALKED BACKSTAGE AS THE band before us started their last song. It was a bustle of activity, overwhelming my small-town senses. Lars walked over to where one of the stagehands put the last of his drum kit together. He pulled his sticks out of his back pocket and tapped them against his leg, keeping beat with the drummer on stage.

  Retro, Licks, and I grabbed our guitars and stepped inside a small shed. When the door closed, the soundproof room shut out the roaring noises that made my ears ring. It was a much-need reprieve for me. It gave me a moment to collect my thoughts one last time before we hit the stage. My heart thundered in my chest as my hands shook. I fought my way through it to get my guitar tuned.

  Retro hammered on my shoulder with his fist to get my attention. “Block it out. It’s the only way to keep it from taking over you entirely. Run chords over in your head, or lyrics. That’s what helps me.”

  I nodded as I swallowed hard. My fingers flexed open and closed to get the blood moving back into my hands and I took a deep breath, releasing it
as the door to the soundproof room opened and the noise attacked my eardrums again.

  We waited for our cue to take the stage. As the other band wrapped up, the crowd surged, screaming for more. I mentally shoved my nerves down. I had to keep it together.

  “Dude, your ass is glowing,” Licks hollered in my ear.

  My phone. I’d forgotten to leave it behind on the bus. Pulling it out, I noticed a text message from Riley. I hit the button and called her. A jolt of energy zapped through me. It was like Riley just knew I needed a friendly voice from home before I took the stage for the first time. Hearing her was hard. I found myself shouting to talk over the noise around me.

  “Hey, Riles! Miss me already?”

  Riley’s voice was drowned out. “…barely hear you.”

  “I’m gettin’ ready for a show. When I saw your text, I figured I’d call you real quick.”

  “You could have just sent me a text,” Riley shouted.

  “Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have been able to hear your voice.” I’d really needed to hear it.

  The band finished playing, making it impossible to even hear myself as I shouted into the phone. “I’m about to go on stage. I’ll call you when the show is over. That okay?”

  The guys huddled around me as they hollered at each other, pumping themselves up to go on stage. It was impossible to hear anything after that, so I yelled into the phone, hoping Riley would hear me over them. “Sorry, Riley. It’s getting a little crazy. I’ll call you back in a little bit.”

  When the call disconnected, I handed my phone to Murphy. She gave me a weird look, but she stuffed it into her back pocket. The guys started moving forward to take their place on stage, and I fell in behind them. Murphy walked beside me. When she touched my shoulder, I looked over at her.

  She beamed at me. A full smile with teeth and a dimple. I felt like I could float the rest of the way to the stage. “Rock it out, Jared.”

  I grabbed her up in a hug. “Thanks, Murphy.”

  When I pulled back, her eyes were rounded and her jaw dropped. I winked at her, and her mouth snapped closed. When I took the stage, I looked over at her and found her watching us intently.

  The sun was dropping, giving the sky a touch of gold as it peeked through the clouds. Everything about being on stage for the first time snapped into place as I jacked my guitar in and stepped up to the microphone. Everything settled inside of me. I was ready. Hell, I was born for it.

  Licks was on fire. He bounced around the stage, revving up the crowd before introducing Lars, Retro, and himself. With every name, the crowd screamed louder and louder, and I felt it all the way to my feet.

  Licks stopped in front of me, slapping me on the back. “So, we got a little something special for you tonight,” he said, his grin alone eating up the crowd’s energy. “As you’ve noticed, there’s a new face with us on stage.” The screams grow louder, and it was contagious, making my whole body vibrate. “Everyone, give it up for Jared Jackson, our new lead singer and rhythm guitar player.”

  Licks pulled the microphone from his lips, punching the air as the crowd roared like a tidal wave coming to life. Turning his back on the crowd, he pointed to Lars as the sound of drumsticks cracked together.

  Licks hit his first chord, and that was it. I rode on a high from the moment my fingers strummed across the strings until the last song wrapped up. There was nothing but the music rolling through me, and the crowd urging me for more.

  And I gave it to them. All of it.

  With each song, I left every single bit of what felt like my soul on the stage.

  My chest heaved as beads of sweat rolled down my back. Fans stretched their hands up, reaching for us.

  Security had a hard time keeping them back. It was mass chaos, and I fuckin’ loved every single second of it.

  As we rolled into our second song, security was breached. A girl rushed the stage, molding herself to Lick’s back. He kept playing as if she weren’t there, groping everything she could touch, before security pried her off him and hauled her down the stairs.

  Licks smirked in my direction as he crossed the stage and went to his knees, playing it up to the crowd, feeding them what he knew they wanted to see and hear.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Oliver standing at the edge of the stage closest to me. His eyes scanned the crowd as if waiting for it to happen again.

  I backed away from the microphone as Retro approached me. Leaning in so I could hear him, he asked, “Doing okay?”

  I smiled, turning to lean in so he could hear me. “Just getting warmed up, bro.”

  Retro stepped back, shaking his head as he laughed.

  I stepped back up to the microphone, waiting for Licks to wrap up his solo and the end of the song.

  When he popped back up, I shouted out to the crowed, “Is everybody having a good time?”

  Hands punched the air along with the roar of hundreds of voices as Lars beat away at the drums behind me, leading us into the next song.

  The stage lights beating down on me were hot, making my shirt stick to me. Even with the night air, there was no reprieve. The music coming from the speakers hummed along the stage under my feet as if refueling me while I played. Each second on stage was intoxicating, making me feel drunk from the power of it.

  My ears rang and my chest heaved as our set came to a close.

  Lars came out from behind his drums, firing one of his drumsticks out over the crowd’s head.

  Licks slung his guitar behind him and moved to the front of the stage. Reaching out, he handed off his pick to a young man who wore a Destroying Doubt T-shirt. Selfishly, I stuffed my pick into my pocket, made my way up to the front of the stage, and ran down the front, slapping hands as I went. My chest swelled with pride. I’d done it, I’d rocked my ass off for the very first time, and I wanted more.

  MURPHY AND OLIVER WAITED FOR us at the bottom of the stairs when we got off stage. There seemed to be more people backstage than there was before we went on. People I’d never met before came up, congratulating us on a kick-ass show. Beers were handed over, and it became a backstage party with all the remaining bands that hadn’t pulled out to go to their next venue.

  Even Murphy relaxed a little, but she made sure she stuck close to one of us at all times. A fresh beer was put in my hands. Murphy looked at it and licked her lips. I handed it to her as I kept talking to Walt, the lead guitar player of Endless Images.

  Murphy’s arm slid through mine, and I looked down to see what she was doing. Her face was turned into my arm, the beer in her hand held up high enough to almost cover her face.

  Walt slapped me on the arm and said his goodbyes as he walked away.

  I picked my hand up in a half wave and turned my focus to Murphy. Her grip tightened. “You okay?” I asked, leaning down to say it without having to shout.

  “No, not really. Do you think you can get me back to the bus?” She sounded freaked out.

  What would cause Murphy to go into lockdown mode like that? I scanned the crowd, not knowing what I was looking for, but I found it anyway. Across from me, only a few yards away, was Ed Rosh, the drummer for Red Gaze. When he took his eyes off Murphy, he sneered at me and tipped his beer back, swallowing what was left of it. He let the bottle hit the ground, making his way over to where we stood.

  Oliver appeared in front of us, blocking Ed. “I think now would be a good a time as any to get on the road. Right, Murphy?”

  I felt her tremble as she turned her head partially to look at Oliver. “Can you get the others? I’ll have Jared walk me back.”

  Oliver nodded sharply. “They took off a few minutes ago. You two go ahead. I got this.”

  Murphy seemed to relax a little when I moved us closer to the gate. I freed my arm from her death grip, putting it around her back. “Mind telling me what that was all about?”

  She stiffened but answered. “Everyone has their demons, Jared. He’s mine.”

  I chewed on that for a minute as we wal
ked in silence. Before she could step on the bus, I caught her arm. “Murphy, did he hurt you?”

  Her eyes pooled with tears that glittered from the light coming from the concert area.

  I reached up, wiping the tear that escaped and trekked down her cheek. “Murphy?”

  She stepped back, rubbed her eyes, tossed her head, and set her shoulders. “No, but he tried to.”

  Air hissed between my teeth as if her words had sucker punched me. How could Woody allow that to happen to his niece? Where was her protection when the rest of us were busy? Oliver coming might have been for my protection, but I’d have a conversation with him. His priorities would be shifted to Murphy, permanently, or there’d be hell to pay.

  As if I’d called him from thin air, Oliver strolled up. “Murphy, you okay?” he asked. She gave him an attempt at a smile, and then she left us to go inside the bus.

  I pulled in a deep breath, released it, and met Oliver’s knowing look. “It could have been worse had you not been there. I think you’re gonna have to keep a close eye on Murphy at all times when we’re doing these concerts.”

  Oliver rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. “As much as you wanna think this is all fun and games, it’s not. You need the same protection that she does. That guy? The one who shot daggers out of his eyes at you? He’s not playing around, Jared. I’ve seen that look before. He’s not out to threaten people. He’s out to hurt them. You popped up on his radar the minute you walked off with Murphy. Who is she to him—an old girlfriend or something?”

  I looked past Oliver, over his shoulder, where a single set of floodlights were set up for everyone still backstage. A hulking, lone figure stood under the halogen glow, staring in our direction. “She said he tried to hurt her. I don’t know if that means he hit her, or he tried to sexually assault her, but either way, if that fucker comes near her, take him out.”

  Oliver’s face broke into a grin. “You don’t have to worry about that, Jared. He sealed his fate with me already. Now, he’s brooding like a little bitch.”