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CHAPTER EIGHT

SAINT

I should have been used to walking up on stage with just a moment’s notice after all the years I’d been performing.

I’d paid my dues in backroad bars and venues where the soles of my shoes stuck to the floorboards. I’d gotten changed in dirty restrooms, offices, broom cupboards, and even an alley once, but nothing could have prepared me for performing in front of Jacob for the first time.

Braden, Dischordium’s manager, ushered me into the wings and up the stairs leading to the stage. Jacob stayed at my back the entire time like an ever-watchful shadow.

It was crazy how his presence could be both comforting and unnerving, like I had a guardian angel at my back who could rip out your throat if needed. But then Jacob had been a walking, talking contradiction since the moment I met him.

Noah appeared in the wings to meet me. “Thanks for doin’ this, Saint,” he said earnestly. “I know I put you on the spot, but I wanted to mix things up, and you can’t buy this kinda publicity. ”

“I get it,” I assured him, and I did because I’d done way more outrageous things for my band—namely, my showmance with Hunter. I understood how important this night and the new album were to Dischordium.

Noah gave Jacob a chin lift. “I’ll keep an eye out for her up there. Any funny business and I’ll get her out of there. Don’t worry.”

“You could’ve called me earlier and let me know what you were thinking,” Jacob berated. “I’m not here to shit in your cereal, Carbine, but my priority is Saint.”

“Didn’t know I was gonna suggest it until I saw her shaking her sweet ass in that dress.” Noah grinned.

A dark look swept over Jacob’s face. “Are you for fuckin’ real?”

Noah raised his hands. “Sorry, brother. Just funnin’ with ya.”

“Yo!” A shout came from the stage where Griff was gesturing for us to get out there. “Are we doing this?”

Noah took my hand. “Come on before Griff shits his shorts.” He tugged me out on stage behind him, and the crowd erupted in cheers.

The bright lights blinded me for a moment before my eyes adjusted to them.

Somebody shoved a guitar in my hand, and Blue moved away from his microphone, allowing Noah to pick it up and set it down next to his for me.

He stepped toward his mic and murmured, “Look who I found.”

The crowd roared.

Blue approached us, his signature smirk in place as his eyes raked down me and up again to my face, and asked, “What are we playing?”

“What about “Escapism” by Raye? It sounded cool when we jammed out to it together at Jax’s party.” Noah suggested .

“Got it; gonna improvise, though, make it heavier,” Blue stated. “Same as before? Saint takes the lead, and you come in on the harmonies, Carb.”

“Sure thing,” Noah agreed.

I glanced at both the boys and nodded.

Blue stepped away, went over to the other two boys, glanced at me, and jerked a nod while he relayed the information to them.

After twirling his drumstick in the air, Styx, the drummer, counted us in, and the boys began to play.

I leaned into the microphone, sucked in a breath, and closed my eyes to center myself, allowing myself to get swept away with the notes as I fell into the current of the music. Then, keeping my lungs full of air, I counted down the beats, opened my mouth, and began to sing.

The music wrapped me in a cocoon until nothing else mattered but the meaning behind the words.

I sang for the girl who was shredded by heartbreak and tried to find solace in drink, drugs, and sex, much like I did when I cut Jacob off after discovering he was married.

Blue meant it when he said he was going to play it heavier, but by doing so, he also made it rougher and dirtier. My voice took on a raspy, hard quality, living the story just like I’d lived it two years before when Jacob broke something inside me that I’d never been able to patch back together.

Music made me feel alive. The familiar rush of adrenaline, along with the high I got from performing for a live audience, coursed through me, leaving me intoxicated.

My eyes opened, and I turned to admire Blue’s playing, but in doing so, my gaze caught stage left and locked with Jacob’s, and my heart stuttered when I saw the rawness blazing from his icy blue eyes .

The intensity of his gaze thrilled me, and everything melted away. In that moment, we were the only two people in the room. I sang every word for him, unable to stop my voice from dripping with the pain he caused, the disappointment wracking me, and the ache I still felt every damned day.

I leaned into the emotions tugging at my heart because that was what I did best. I took the ugliness of pain and turned it into something beautiful, especially when I was on stage. It was my domain, and nobody, including Jacob, could deny it was where I belonged and where I thrived.

Jacob’s expression softened slightly, a flicker of understanding passing over his face before he masked it with his usual blankness. Except his face may have been void, but his icy eyes smoldered, never leaving mine as I sang the last words of the song, waiting for the music to fade out.

Just for a split second, silence hung in the air, and then the crowd went wild.

Screams and cheers filled the room, almost lifting the roof. Feet stamped and hands clapped while the audience bellowed their approval.

I broke my gaze with Jacob and looked at the crowd, inhaling a sharp breath when I felt the waves of energy crashing toward me.

Noah put his mouth up close to the microphone and murmured, “You want one more?” Only to be met with screams of affirmation.

A song drifted into my head; one we’d played acoustically backstage at the festival where I’d met Jacob. I leaned toward Noah and whispered the title, watching his eyes light up, and he grinned.

He moved toward Blue and the others, telling them the song, and then I heard a tap, tap, tap as the drumsticks crashed together .

Blue’s guitar wailed through the room, and a loud roar rose up as the riff introducing Paramore’s “All I Wanted” glided from the speakers.

My belly filled with euphoria from the warm tone of the instrument, and I closed my eyes again, allowing the music to wrap around me.

I couldn’t help smiling at the way the audience responded to the change in tempo.

The song was a favorite of mine, and sexy, low-key energy crackled as the entire room fell silent to listen.

My heartbeat regulated in time to the thud of Styx’s drums, and I began to get carried away by the words and haunting melody.

It wasn’t an easy song to sing, but I loved it so much that I’d perfected it over time. As the music built to a crescendo, my voice rose alongside it, feeling the longing and desire for a lost love threading through the words as they fell from my lips.

Again, my eyes slid to Jacob.

He stood, mesmerized, his body taut, his face stunned. A glimmer of emotion shone in his eyes, and I could tell he was as moved by the beauty of the lyrics as I was.

I sang with everything I had, pouring my conflicting feelings into each verse, hoping that somehow, he’d read between the lines and hear everything I was trying to tell him.

All too soon, the song ended, and I squeezed my eyes shut as the last wail of Blue’s guitar faded away.

The crowd’s reaction was electric. The deafening cheers, foot-stamping, and clapping sent goosebumps down my arms, or was it the intensity I felt from Jacob’s gaze that affected me in such a profound way?

I stole one last look at the wings, and my heart fluttered when I saw what was so plainly written across Jacob’s face.

Pure, unadulterated need .

My breath caught in my throat, and my body pulsed with the raw sexuality emanating from him in waves. His usual cold blue eyes weren’t icy anymore. Instead, they were pools of molten steel staring at me as if he was about to gobble me all up.

I tore my gaze away, heart pounding in my chest. The room seemed topsy-turvy, or maybe that was just my emotion-filled brain reacting to Jacob’s raw need. On autopilot, I smiled and murmured my thanks to the band while also acknowledging the crowd, except I couldn’t take any of it in.

All I could feel was Jacob.

My feet moved, carrying me toward the wings and toward him .

I needed air, space to breathe, and to get my head straight. If Jacob so much as touched me, I suspected I’d go up in flames. My skin was flushed, and my temperature was set to boiling, like I was on fire from the inside out.

My gaze was pulled to his by an invisible force, and my pussy clenched at the wolfishness of his expression. Over the last couple of days, I’d seen it fleetingly but didn’t recognize what it meant until now.

As I approached him, my pulse pounded through my body. Jacob never took his eyes off me: a bomb could have gone off and blown the place to smithereens, and I doubted either one of us would have noticed; we were both so entranced under each other’s spell.

He reached a hand out toward me, his nostrils flaring as I placed my fingers in his, and the tiny hairs on my arms stood on end at the contact.

“You were incredible,” he rasped, pulling me into his hard body.

“You inspire me,” I whispered, my lips parting as I gazed up at him.

“Do you know Hunter’s number?” he asked .

My eyebrows pulled together. “No, but it’s in my phone.”

His gaze stayed glued to mine as he pulled a cell phone from his inside pocket, and his eyes fell to the screen. Holding it to his ear, he waited briefly and muttered, “Colt? I need you to ping me Hunter Page’s number.”

Whoever Colt was must have agreed because Jacob replied, “Thanks, brother,” before cutting the call. Within seconds, his phone pinged, and he clicked again and held it out to me. “It’s ringing.”

“What’s ringing?” I asked confusedly.

“ His phone.” Jacob’s jaw ticked angrily. “End it.”

“End what—” My eyes widened as the meaning behind his words hit me, and I spluttered, “Jacob?—”

“End it, Saint,” he repeated, his tone like ice. “Or I will, and believe me, baby, you won’t like the way I do it.”