Sinners On Tour 02 Rock Hard (24 page)

“It’s not permanent,” Jace said. “Just ’til you can hang on to your pick.”

“It sounds weird, too.”

“Maybe we can get you a banjo pick,” Jace suggested.

“A banjo pick?”

“Yeah, they slip over the tip of your finger. You don’t have to hold them.”

Trey sighed. “Fuuuuck, this sucks.” He shook his head. “I suck.”

Sed clapped him on the back vigorously. “We should have conked you on the head years ago. The fans love it.”

“The fans love that I suck?”

Sed shook his hand. “The fans love your devotion. They know you’re out there for them.”

“He’s out there for you, you idiot,” Eric said. Sed’s brow furrowed, but before he could ask for clarification, Eric changed the subject. “Brian seems more tired than usual from doing all that improvised solo and riff fill. We should head back and let him off the hook.” Eric wrapped an arm around Trey and squeezed his shoulder. “You ready?”

“You could take my place.” Trey looked ill at the thought of returning to the stage.

“I could. But then who’s going to play drums?”

Trey took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

Eric directed Trey back toward the stage, his arm still around him. “I hope you’re in the mood for female booty tonight. You don’t mind if I watch, do you? Of course you don’t.”

“Actually, I’m not in the mood for any booty tonight.”

Eric’s arm tightened around Trey’s neck and he covered Trey’s forehead with his large hand. “Oh my God, you must be dying. Doesn’t feel like you have a fever.” He grabbed Trey’s chin. “Say ahhhhh.”

Trey laughed and opened his mouth. “Ahhhhh.”

Eric tilted his head to look in Trey’s mouth. “Tonsils appear normal. Don’t tell me…” Eric looked gravely serious. Sed couldn’t help but snigger at his antics.

“Don’t tell you what?” Trey asked.

“They performed the wrong surgery. You’ve had…” Eric closed his eyes as if the thought was too difficult to bear. “…a vaginoplasty.”

Trey scowled and flipped him off. “Aw, fuck you, Eric.”

“Not me, I don’t swing that way, but I’ve heard if you get Brian drunk enough…”

Trey’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Don’t get your hopes up. Myrna doesn’t share well with others.”

“Sometimes she does.” Trey winked.

Eric and Jace exchanged surprised glances.

“Did you all have a threesome?” Eric asked.

“Maybe.”

“You lucky son-of-a-bitch.”

Sed stared up at the rigging above the stage, pretending he didn’t care. Brian let Trey
do
Myrna? How the fuck had Trey managed that? Sed just had to come within three feet of the woman and Brian completely freaked out.

“I want all the details later.” Eric released Trey’s shoulder at the edge of the stage and headed behind the drum kit.

When Sed reappeared onstage, Brian looked relieved to see him. Sed took the microphone off its stand and headed toward the audience. “Master Sinclair!” he announced, a hand extended in Brian’s direction.

The crowd whistled, applauded, or yelled their appreciation of Brian’s skill. Brian nodded his head in a slight bow and went to check on Trey.

“Anyone think Master Sinclair looks a little worn out?” Sed asked.

“I think he does,” Jace said into Trey’s microphone.

“Sinclair, are you feeling tired lately?”

“Uh, no, Sed, not really,” Brian said, also into Trey’s microphone.

“Feeling a little low in the back?”

“Nope.”

“Left ring finger cramping up on you?”

Brian chuckled. “Oh, I get what you’re doing.”

Sed smiled his most shark-like grin.

Brian held up his left hand to the audience, showing off his thick platinum wedding band. “I got married about a month ago.”

“Sorry, ladies,” Trey said, ruffling Brian’s hair. “He’s taken.”

“Yes, I am,” Brian agreed, his eyes shifting backstage to where Myrna stood watching the show next to Jessica. Myrna blew Brian a kiss.

The news prompted mostly cheering from the crowd, but some female booing as well. Sed hoped getting some of the attention off Trey would help him deal with his situation a little better. He wasn’t sure what else to do for him.

“What about you, Sed?” someone at the front of the audience yelled. “You still engaged to that hot piece of ass from Vegas? When do we get another video of you fucking her?”

Sed’s head swiveled toward the audience, his heart thudding, his blood hot. “Who said that?”

The people surrounding the big-mouthed jackass backed away slightly, leaving a circle of empty space around him.

“I’m gonna kick your fucking ass,” Sed bellowed. Before he could dive off the stage and beat the ever-lovin’ shit out of the douche bag, someone grabbed the back of his shirt.

Brian shook his head at him. “Don’t lose your cool, dude.”

Too late. He was tired of everyone treating Jessica like a piece of meat. She was so much more than her perfect outer shell. Jessica appeared at his elbow and pulled the microphone out of his hand. He looked at her in surprise.

“You know what would be nice?” she said into the microphone, looking up at Sed. Instantly, he found himself lost in her wide jade-green eyes. “If all these limp dicks would find a woman of their own and get laid occasionally. Maybe then they’d have less time to jack off to our sexual adventures.”

She kissed his jaw and handed the microphone back to him before returning to her place beside the stage. Sed chuckled and rubbed his forehead. She sure handled things better than he did. “Best lay on the planet, and she’s smart, too,” he murmured into the microphone. He glanced over his shoulder at Trey, who was smiling broadly. “You ready?” he called to the band.

Trey managed to keep up now that he’d given up on his pick and stuck to riffs and shredding. Not their best performance, but the fans had a great time, and that’s all that mattered. During the wicked musical outro of “Twisted,”
Sed let himself get caught up in the moment and dove into the crowd.

With their hands in the air, a group of about twenty fans caught Sed above their heads. Hand over hand they passed him around the crowd and eventually toward the stage. When he was within reach of the barrier fence, one of the security guards pulled him free of their clutches. He hadn’t crowd surfed in ages. He’d forgotten how fun it was. With the security guard’s help, Sed found his footing on the concrete floor and stood with his belly against the metal barrier fence facing the crowd. He thrust both hands in the air, allowing the first rows of the general admission pit to touch, grab, and hug him enthusiastically. He slapped high fives with dozens of fans, squeezing each hand before moving to the next.

The security guard kept trying to tug Sed away from the crowd by the back of his shirt. He was perfectly fine. He might have a few bruises to show for his brazen interactions with the crowd, but it was well worth the adrenaline rush served by their adulation and excitement.

Brian’s voice came over the speaker system. “Uh, Sed? The song is over.”

He honestly hadn’t noticed. “Get me a mic,” he said to the security guard.

A minute later, a mic was thrust into his hand. “How are we feeling tonight, Salt Lake? Are you having a good time?”

The nearby noise of the crowd came through the loud speaker. “You know, my throat has been bothering me all night and I’m feeling pretty lazy. Do any of you dudes know our song ‘Reformation’?”

The chorus of the song spread across the crowd as the majority of them started singing. Of course, everyone knew “Reformation.” It had topped the rock charts for over a month last winter.

“Maybe one of you can help me sing it up on stage.”

The entire barrier fence surged forward in their excitement to join him.

“Not just anyone. If you want on my stage, you have to audition first.” He turned his head to look at the band, who watched him warily. “Intro to ‘Reformation.’ Just until the end of that first scream.”

In his earpiece, Dave said, “What are you doing, Sed? This isn’t part of the show.”

Tonight it is, he thought. “You,” he said to the spike-haired guy directly in front of him. “You want to audition?”

“Fuck yeah!”

Sed signaled the band and they started the song. He held the mic to Spike’s mouth and he screamed the intro. Sed winced after about five seconds of the guy’s blood-curdling screech and pulled the mic away. “Cut. Cut. Cut.” The band stopped playing mid-note. “Dude, did you swallow a dying cat? What the fuck was that sound that just came out of your mouth?”

The guy laughed with no hard feelings.

“Next,” Sed said and moved to another audience member. He continued down the barrier, letting five or six guys try their voices, until he found a guy who could produce a sound that didn’t make him want to shove pencils through his eardrums. “That’s more like it. What’s your name?”

“Justin.”

“Justin, you’re hired.”

“Yes! Do I get paid?”

“What’s your going rate?”

He hesitated. “Can I get a kiss from your woman?”

“Next!” Sed called.

Justin grabbed his wrist. “Just kidding. Jeez!”

“Sed has no sense of humor as far as Jessica is concerned,” Brian said into a microphone.

Sed tilted his head reflectively and nodded. “You’re absolutely right, Brian. Next!”

Sed helped the next auditioner over the barrier. He didn’t sound half as good as that Justin jerk, but Sed wasn’t in the mood to tolerate bullshit about Jessica, even in jest. He and his helper, named Lance of all things, took the stage. The crowd absolutely loved Lance as he made a total ass of himself by singing like a tone deaf drunk at a karaoke bar. Trey stopped playing half way through the song, but not out of frustration. He was laughing so hard he couldn’t find his fret board.

At the end of the song, Sed shook hands with Lance. Lance gushed over his guitar hero, Master Sinclair, for a full minute before heading off the stage. He waved at the crowd.

“Let’s hear it for Lance,” Sed called into his microphone, raising his hand in the air. The crowd cheered on cue. “Get him a backstage pass, Jake. He makes Trey laugh.”

Trey wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes. “Yeah, he does.”

After their set, Sed handed his microphone and earpiece to a roadie on his way offstage. Jessica met him at the bottom of the steps and wrapped her arms around him.

“You were wonderful, baby,” she murmured.

“Thanks.” He smiled and stroked away the moisture he’d left on her bare arms. He loved when she wore sexy little dresses with spaghetti straps. And she looked sensational in green. Hell, she always looked sensational. “I’m sweating all over you.”

“Not
all
over me,” she murmured, “but I hope that’s about to change.”

He bent his head and kissed her passionately, his tongue caressing her upper lip. Dozens of camera flashes went off in unison. Jessica stiffened and pulled away.

“I’ll meet you on the bus,” he murmured into her ear.

She scowled, but nodded. Sed removed his shirt, wiped the sweat off his face with it, and threw it into the crowd of onlookers in stadium seats above. A scuffle broke out between two chicks and the guy who’d caught it. By the time Sed left the side of the stage, security was breaking up a full out brawl in the stands.

Sed wandered past the dressing room, ignoring the after party the opening bands were enjoying. He was on his way to the bus and his woman. He hoped she was ready to roll, because he was ready to rock her world.

***

After leaving the backstage area, Jessica strode down the wide corridor that led outside. A raucous laugh caught her attention as she passed the open door to one of the dressing rooms. Some chick had her dress up over her head, showing her black panties and lack of bra to anyone who cared to pay her any attention. One of the opening band members poured a beer down her front and she squealed, holding still as he licked the alcohol from her breasts and belly. Jessica wondered if Sed partied like that when she wasn’t around. She was certain he did. He’d probably be glad when she left so he could get back to—

Something slammed Jessica in the face. Pain streaked through her right cheek and eye. She stumbled into the wall, her arm raised defensively. Someone grabbed two handfuls of her hair and slammed her into the wall, then dragged her face down to the floor.

“Ain’t so high and mighty
now
, are you, bitch?” a female growled at her.

Jessica swept her legs to the side, catching her attacker’s ankles and sending her flying. Unfortunately, she still had a strong hold on Jessica’s hair. Jessica cried out and grabbed the woman’s wrists, squeezing until she finally released her hair. Jessica shoved her away and climbed to her feet. Her face throbbed in pain, but she was too pissed to care.

“What is
wrong
with you?” Jessica bellowed. It was the same woman who had bragged that she was going to fuck Sedric Lionheart after the concert. Jessica had already put the stupid bitch in her place once. When the tramp had stormed off, Jessica had assumed that would be the end of it.

“I sucked that roadie’s cock for nothing,” the woman said, launching herself from the floor in Jessica’s direction.

Racing down the hall, Sed caught the woman around the waist just before she careened into Jessica. “What in the hell is going on here?” he asked, his eyes searching Jessica’s face. “What happened to your cheek?”

“She sucker punched me. I didn’t even see it coming.” Jessica felt pretty ridiculous, actually. If she hadn’t been so worried about Sed partying like a rock star, she might have blocked her attack.

The lead singer of the opening band, Kickstart, staggered out into the hall from the dressing room. “Whaz… whaz goin’ on out here.” He blinked hard and opened his eyes wide when he noticed Sed. “Ah, it’s bloody Sed. Right-o. Only got yerself two honeys tonight? I got a couple…
hic!
… a couple to spare if yuh need s’more.” He leaned against the wall and let his dark eyes drift up and down Jessica’s body. “I’ll trade you ten of mine for this one ’ere, though.” He belched and scratched his balls.