Trinity (Moonstone Book 1)

Evernight Publishing ®

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2016 Andi Bremner

ISBN: 978-1-77233-794-5

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Katelyn Uplinger

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.  No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

TRINITY

Moonstone, 1

Andi Bremner

Copyright © 2016

Chapter One

Luke

Pulling the car into the lot outside the club, I took a moment to check it out.
A dive
. Easy assumption to make on first appearances. A flashing neon sign declared the name of this backwater bar to be
Den
, but if all the letters were operational it would’ve read Silver Den. A burley bouncer stood beside a door watching me. His arm muscles were thicker than my thighs, I noted.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair.
What was I even doing here?
This was not the sort of venue I generally frequented. Normally I would be spending my Saturday nights with my mates at Houdini’s, a more upmarket place that was filled with the usual college crowds, not ditching them to drive across town to a very seedy, very rough looking venue.

But then I wasn’t here to down tequilas and hook up with anyone, I was here to check out the music because I had heard that there was an amazing band playing tonight that I just had to come and see.

Opening the door I climbed out of my car, making sure to lock it. The other cars parked in the lot were pretty old, rusted, and looked as if they had been sat there for a long time.

Now that I was out of the car I could hear the music and a steady beat coming from the bar.
Music
, I reminded myself,
I was here to check out the music
. My new roommate Toby had told me about this place and about the great new bands that played here. In particular he’d raved about an all-girl band called Moonstone and had pretty much insisted I check them out. He’d even found one of their tracks uploaded on the Internet and played it in order to persuade me to come along. I had to admit, they sounded good. I’d expected some boppy, pop styled music but they played indie rock. I liked it. The lead singer had a voice that reminded me a little of Kate Bush’s. Interesting choice for a rock band.

I had just taken a step when the sound of screeching tires stopped me dead in my tracks and I had to jump out of the way as a car swung into the empty spot I was walking through.
What the—?
Crazy driver had nearly hit me.

Lights flickered out and the driver’s door opened. A tiny head emerged, covered in short white hair. I shook my head in frustration.

“Hey,” I called, my voice laced with annoyance, “who taught you to drive?”

She snapped her head around and blinked at me. It was clear from the way she looked at me and the way her mouth formed a perfect o that she hadn’t even seen me.

“You drive like a fucking maniac,” I snapped, “You nearly ran me down. You need to watch where you are going!”

Suddenly a light flicked in her eye and she stepped toward me. “
You
need to watch where you are going. If you look around you will see this is
parking
lot and you are standing in the middle of the road.”

She leaned forward, resting on the open door of her car and into the street light, her face illuminated.
Fuck
, were my first thoughts, she’s young for someone with a sarcastic voice like that. And then my next thought…
She’s beautiful
.

Her face was pale and heart shaped, with a pointed chin. Long lashes framed eyes that were a dark blue color I guessed, although I couldn’t see them clearly in the yellow light of the dimly lit parking lot. A tiny mole sat on her high cheekbones and her lips were drawn in a line, her chin jutted forward with attitude. Her head bobbed a little and I realized she was tapping her foot. For some reason that made me smile.

“You think it’s funny?” she snapped and then ducked her head, reaching into her car for something. I watched her climb across the driver’s seat and search through whatever was piled up on her front seat and then re-emerge. She frowned when she saw me still watching her before she slammed the door and stepped more fully under the streetlight.

And that’s when I saw it.

A dark, purple bruise wrapped around her left eye. It started on her cheek, which was swollen and then got darker as it reached her eye before disappearing under her bangs.

My smile faded.

Someone had hit her.

My mouth went dry and I felt my chest tighten as I watched her stalk to the door of the club, the bag she’d rescued from her car slung over her shoulder. She was tiny, I wondered if she’d barely reach my shoulders, and thin. I waited, expecting the bouncer to ask for her identification but instead he grinned at her with familiarity and opened the door for her like she was royalty.

Great
, I thought, this was obviously the type of club that didn’t check identification and didn’t look twice at a young girl with a beaten up face.
Thanks for the great tip Toby,
I muttered. This was going to be a real quick visit.

I sucked in a deep breath and for the hundredth time reminded myself that I was here to check out the music. The music. I was just here for the music.

****

Trinity

“Trin! You’re late!”

I dumped my bag on the floor back stage and rummaged through it, pulling out my clothes. I was about to get changed in my car but then that guy had just stood there gawking at me. I knew Harley, the bouncer, wouldn’t have let him do anything but still … now I had about two minutes to get changed backstage.

“I know, sorry.” I didn’t explain. I didn’t want to say it out loud and they didn’t want to hear it. Everyone knew better than to ask questions and hear explanations that made them uncomfortable.

“Oh shit your face,” Molly stepped closer and grabbed my chin, twisting my face up into the light. I squeezed my eyes shut. We were in a room backstage and there was just the five of us, members of our band Moonstone, but still I didn’t want to cry in front of them even if they were the closest thing to family I had ever known.

She let go of my chin and asked softly, “She do that?”

I nodded, blinking back the heat flooding my face. “It’s no big deal. Doesn’t hurt at all.”

Molly watched me for a moment before she spoke again. “Right. Well you can’t go onstage with that shiner. Let’s get some makeup on it.”

I nodded and let her and the drummer, Olivia, do their stuff. They spent ages doing my eyes and I knew there were lining it with thick lashings of black kohl. That would draw the attention away from the bruised cheek and disguise it at the same time. I smiled to myself, feeling a little sad that my two friends knew how to disguise a bruise on my face. They’d had way too much practice at this crap.

I pulled my t-shirt off over my head and quickly donned the black tank top Shawna handed me. Then I threaded the array of silver earrings through the holes in my ears. It was fancy dress, but it helped me get up on stage and sing, and right now I needed all the confidence I could get.

Tony, the owner of the club, came backstage then to check on us. He smiled and said hello, his eyes lingering overly long in my direction. I knew Tony liked me, he’d made that clear on more than one occasion, but I’d managed to avoid his more obvious advances. Still, it unnerved me a little when he looked at me like that. Even though he ran with the underworld, and I knew he had connections to drug dealers and biker gangs, he was only ever nice to us. He’d turned a blind to us coming in here when we were underage, and when we’d approached him with our band he’d let us audition and had even given us regular Saturday night gigs. No one else would even give us a chance at that stage. We’d be nothing without Tony, a thought which left me with a strange, sinking feeling inside. I had a feeling he knew that too.

“Ready, girls?” he asked now.

“Always ready Tony,” Gwen, the lead guitarist, replied. Gwen was the one who’d brought us all together and who was our unofficial band leader. She was older than the rest of us by two years and had trained in classical guitar before she switched to rock when she was about twelve. She came from a different family than the rest of us, a family that sat around the table at night and ate dinner together, a family that went on annual summer vacations and had a college fund. A family that wasn’t happy when their youngest daughter decided to turn down college and join a rock band instead. They were still coming to terms with Gwen’s career choice and I wondered if they ever would or if they would just forever secretly hope that this was just a phase.

But this wasn’t a phase, this band, this group. This was it. This was my everything.

I smiled at my friends, my sisters, and my family as we put our hands into the middle of our circle. Tony discreetly stepped back, giving us this private moment that we always took before we went on stage. Gwen said a prayer, whispered low so that only our ears could hear. It was different every time and this time she offered a special prayer for me. She didn’t say why and she didn’t say what for. She didn’t have to.

Tears burned the back of my throat as we said amen and then high-fived, lightening the mood.

Molly slipped her guitar strap over her shoulder as I moved my teased hair out from over my eye.

“It’s show time, girls!”

****

Stepping out on stage, my ears were immediately filled with the screams and claps which accompanied our arrival. I wasn’t sure and I only barely allowed myself to hope, but I thought that perhaps
maybe
, they were getting louder and more excited each week. I scanned the dark, smoke filled crowd and let myself believe that there
were
more people here this week. I wanted to believe that. I needed to.

Stepping up to the microphone I grinned and waved at the crowd, winking at a guy pressed up against the stage.

“Thank you!” I spoke into the microphone. “We’re the Moonstone
s
and we are here to entertain you!”

Immediately Molly started the music and we slid into our own version of Nirvana’s
Smells Like Teen Spirit
. We didn’t just do covers but we did a lot, only because most of the audience didn’t know our songs and we wanted to keep them interested. So we would do three covers and then slip one of our songs in. I knew our version of
Nirvana
was different, since my voice was nothing like Cobain’s, but the audience seemed to like it. I closed my eyes and sang, enjoying the power that surged through my blood. This was home. This was my place.

When the guitar solo came on I moved back, allowing Gwen to step into the spotlight. I danced, bouncing on the spot as I watched her. Dressed in a ripped black floral dress and heavy boots, she looked the part of a perfect rock chic. Her stockings were torn, her red hair was a mess as she flicked it around, and the etchings of a tattoo crept up from the collar of her dress. Her fingers slid over the guitar strings and the crowd screamed and applauded when she came to the end. She was magnificent. The stage was where Gwen belonged.

I stepped back to the microphone just as a flower landed at my feet. A plastic rose bought from one of those guys who go around restaurants making men on first dates feel guilty. Picking it up I snapped the plastic rose bud off the top and then, grinning wickedly at the crowd, I pulled out my jeans and dropped it down my pants.

The audience screamed and I couldn’t help but laugh. I glanced over at Molly and noticed she was laughing too and that only made me giggle more.

Then I looked back at the audience, still singing and grinning, and saw him.

I faltered for a second, just a second, before I kept going. Of course he was here, I would’ve been stupid to expect otherwise since I had nearly run him down out the front of the club, but I was still surprised. He’d
seen
me. He’d seen me in my panicked, anxious state with my face bare of makeup and my bruise on display for all to see. I didn’t like it.

He was standing at the back of the crowd, on his own. A beer in hand he didn’t seem to be drinking, but was instead watching us intently. Gwen signaled the start of a new song and we went straight into it. Prince’s
Little Red Corvette
. Different, but the audience got into it. And I liked hitting those high, high notes Prince had thrown into it.

I looked away from the guy and tried to engage a little more with the audience like I normally did, but after a few minutes my eyes found their way back to him again. He was still staring, his face expressionless. He hadn’t touched his drink. In fact he didn’t look at all like a person who drank too much and who hung out at The Silver Den on a Saturday night. He looked too good for that.

At that thought my chest squeezed and I tried not to think the next words which crept their way into my mind of their own accord anyhow.
Too good for me
.

I looked away and winked at a guy down near the stage. I recognized him, he came nearly every Saturday night and sang along to all the songs, even our own. I blew him a kiss and the crowd went wild and I started bouncing, increasing the energy levels of the audience even more. Soon everyone in the audience was bouncing along with me, screaming the words to Prince’s classic. This was what I wanted, fun, dancing, singing, and performing.