Page 75 of Killer Notes
What was a semi-quiet venue yesterday, has exploded with people and noise. I glance down at the time on the dash. It reads five a.m. I didn’t realize we’d been gone that long.
I thought yesterday was crazy, but as I walk past a line of people—all giving me chin lifts, fist bumps and hellos, I finally find my smile. It’s not the same I have for Tobias, but it’s all I can muster until I’m inside the bus.
Ron rushes up as I get out of the vehicle. “Thank fucking God, you’re okay. You gave me a heart attack, damn it. Don’t do that to me again.” He finally takes a deep breath, his right hand to his chest and looks down at me. “You are okay, right?” He takes my hand and squeezes.
I know what he’s silently asking. “I’m good to go on, Ron,” I say, squeezing his hand back.
“Okay. You have plenty time to rest, get your bearings or whatever you need to do.” He raises a finger. “You can skip the interview at noon, but Warrior Black has a meet up with the fans from three to four. Will you be ready for then?”
“I will,” I chuckle.
We pass a group of five people, three guys and two women with VIP lanyards.
They look at me and rush over, calling outRaven. Dean and John stop them immediately before they reach Ron and me. With my dusty, disheveled clothes, a bandaged ear, and my face marred by several small cuts and reddened cheeks, I’m a glorified mess for a rockstar, but apparently, they don’t care.
At my insistence, John and Dean let the fans approach. Between them babbling about how Warrior Black is fucking kick ass, and how they love the three singles we have out, they ask me to autograph their t-shirts, posters, and… the two women want their tits signed with permanent black marker. Yeah, their tits.
It’s not surprising, but oh so surreal.
After signing the last signature, exhaustion catches up to me. Dean sees it and so does Ron, because he tells the group to come around three for the fan signing before he nudges me to walk.
As we reach the bus, my four friends pour out and invade my space with hugs and words of relief. Especially Connor, whose eyes are filled with unshed tears.
“I’m fine.” I try to ease his worry, but he shakes his head.
“I should have known,” he says as he squeezes me so tight, I can hardly breathe.
“It wasn’t your fault. If anything, it’s mine. So, please don’t burden yourself. I’m here, I’m alive, and after a hot shower, I’ll be as good as new.” I don’t say that I’m desperate for some alone time. It would only hurt my best friend’s feelings.
“Yeah, you do. You stink like someone shit all over you,” Connor chuckles as he urges me onto the bus and toward the back bedroom. “Go and I’ll keep these assholes busy.”
“Who you calling an asshole, fuck-nucket,” Raef chides.
“Yeah. Don’t you have to go spanky-your-wanky or something?” Bobby chuffs.
Giving my friends one more look over my shoulder, I close myself off in the bedroom and lean against the door for a long moment. Exhaustion is winning out, but before I fall asleep, I shower, and dress in my yoga pants, and one of Tobias’s t-shirts that I stole while we were at the lake house.
I glance in the mirror and wince at the growing bruises along my jaw and swollen lip. I seriously look like shit, but nothing a good cover up will hide the colors on my skin. At a distance, no one in the crowd would see the discoloration.
As for my lips, I won’t be able to hide the puffiness.Oh, well.I thought as I gently glide the velvety tip of the raspberry gloss across my lips and breathe.
Then I climb into bed, aiming to sleep for a few hours, but I can’t help thinking about Tobias and what he’s going through right now. I miss his warmth. The smile he shows only to me. And the way he growls in frustration when I don’t listen to him. I miss everything about my bodyguard. I love him.
I tuck part of my face into his shirt I’m wearing and inhale. “Come back to me,” I whisper.
Then Tobias’s words flood my brain.
“Because I realize without you in my life, I have nothing. Without you in my space, I have no happiness. And without your love, I’m no one but a fool.”
Those words are on repeat in my head until a song begins to form. I bolt up from the bed, grab my guitar and my song book, and start writing down the lyrics.
After an hour, I lean back against the headboard and stare down at the pages, a smile gracing my face. This song is a love ballad, which Warrior Black usually doesn’t sing. But tracing over the words—no, my vow to my man, I know this song will see its debut on stage tonight… for Tobias.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
Tobias
Although I’m exhausted and hungry as I step out of the sheriff’s office in Lovelock, my mind is centered on one thing—or should I say, one person. Danny.