Page 1 of Beyond the Stix

PROLOGUE

The Independent

Seven months ago

Connor

Sweat drips into my eyes as I jump down from the drum platform, while the crowd in the Independent goes wild. After our second encore performance, Ron Darling, our manager, had given us the cue to get off the stage.

I bow like the rest of my bandmates do, pop the earbuds out of my ears, and we all exit stage right, where Ron is standing, waiting for us.

He is yammering on, but my focus is on the energy still swirling around the crowded auditorium and the music echoing in my ears. The blood in my veins is charged like a live wire.

“Do I have everyone’s attention?” It’s like Ron’s announcing roll call. “I have great news. You have been invited back to play this year’s Rocktoberfest.”

Hoots and whistles sound off from my friends. Last year’s Rocktoberfest went off with a bang. Literally.

Raven—Danny to us, Warrior Black’s lead singer, had a stalker, and Ron had arranged bodyguards for all of us. When Danny’s stalker abducted him the day before the concert, she was shot by Tobias, Danny’s bodyguard. Add to that the involvement of our previous manager, Siles Barrett, who was also Danny’s ex.

I wasn’t sure if we’d make it on stage, but we did, and that awesome experience shot Warrior Black up to another stratosphere in the rock’n’ roll industry. I guess what they say about social media is true—it doesn’t matter what kind of news is out there, we’re fully exposed to the fans.

As we make our way to the dressing room, where we can clean up and change, my phone vibrates. “Be right back. It’s my dad,” I tell the guys and step away toward an alcove down the hall.

Ron and the higher-ups had decided that bodyguards were a good idea since our fame had increased since last year’s Rocktoberfest. Despite the chaos surrounding the abduction, Ron requested the same team to guard us. Tobias—Danny’s boyfriend, had split from Harper Security, along with John…

John—the bane of my existence and the one assigned to protect me—peels away from the wall and follows. I glare at him to step back. “Hey, Dad.”

John gets the hint and leaves me to my privacy.

“Son. You got a minute?”

“Yeah. We just finished playing?—”

“Oh, sorry,” he stammers out. “Call me when?—”

“No, we’re done. What’s up?”

“You know those tickets you offered your mom and me, for the Denver concert?”

Disappointment ekes out from his question. I’d had a feeling they were going to cancel on that trip. “Yeah?” I say in turn.

“That’s Aunt Donna’s wedding weekend, and your mother doesn’t want to miss it.”

“Jesus, Dad. That’s her fourth marriage,” I retort, chuckling. My mother’s sister can’t keep a husband to save her life. The wedding bliss of her last marriage had worn off quickly, and Aunt Donna had gotten an annulment within three months.

“I know. But you know your aunt,” he says with slight annoyance. “Anyway, about those tickets.”

“If you can’t come?—”

“Your mother’s going solo to the wedding, but I would like to…”

“What are you trying to say, Dad?” Why do I have a feeling in my gut that I’m not going to like what he’s going to say next? Probably because I’ve never heard my father be so hesitant about anything.

“I don’t want to lie to you, son, but I would like those tickets for me and your Uncle Jessup. He would love to see?—”

“No,” I say flat out. No hesitation. And a little too loudly, I suspect, since the people around me are looking at me strangely.

“Son.”