“Shit, it’s fucking hot as hell,” Gracie blurts out as she steps off the bus.
I follow close behind her and breathe in the heavy Texas air. It feels so good to finally be home.
6
Leo
“I heard the drummer’s hot,” Luke says as he cuts his eyes toward me.
“Kurt Fury? Hot?” I laugh and then grab my beer from the bar. “I don’t know, man—never really looked at him that way.” I bring the bottle to my lips, turn it up, and take a long swig of the cool liquid.
“Fuck you, Leo. You know I wasn’t talking about Fury.” Luke sucks down a shot of whiskey before his eyes dart toward Wade and then back at me. “Asshole,” he mumbles under his breath.
“What? I thought you two dragged me down here to this shithole of a bar to see Reckless Fury, something about it being their final tour.” I push up from the barstool I’ve been sitting on and walk over to stand beside Wade.
Luke, Wade, and I became best friends in kindergarten, always together early on and raising hell through the middle and high school years. We still hang out, but our relationship has changed over the last few years, depending on what’s going on in our lives. Luke is in an on-again, off-again type relationship with a girl he met in college. Right now, they’re off, so that’s why he’s here with us tonight. Wade is a whore. He’ll fuck any chick who is wet and willing. So, the relationship thing doesn’t usually work out for him. Me—I like simple: a six-pack of beer, the occasional hook-up, and working on my car. No chick drama—ever. If a relationship becomes too much work, it’s over. No questions asked, just over.
“What we didn’t tell you is that the Velvet Dolls are opening for Reckless Fury and the drummer is smoking hot,” Wade explains as his gaze meets mine.
“You’ve seen Cherry Blossom?” Luke directs his question to Wade.
“Cherry Blossom, really?” I interrupt.
“Like I said earlier, fuck you, Leo. Keep talking, Wade. Ignore this asshole,” Luke spits out with a grimace on his face.
“I haven’t actually seen her in person, but I’ve been stalking her online—you know, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter.” He laughs and then shifts his weight so he’s facing the stage in the back corner of the room.
“You two are idiots.” I shake my head and lean against the bar.
People continue to pour in from outside, moving quickly toward the stage. There’s a lot of pushing and shoving going on as the fans try to claim one of the few coveted spots in the front row. I’ll just hang back right where I am, near the bar and the exit, so I can leave whenever I’m ready.
“Leo, I thought that was you,” says Jenna, one of the bartenders, as she leans against the counter, positioning her overflowing cleavage in my face.
“Yep, it’s me.” I grin as my gaze drops to her large tits spilling out of the snug T-shirt she’s wearing. Yep, I’m a dick, but damn she needs to keep those things inside her shirt if she doesn’t want me to take a peek.
“Do you need another beer or anything?” she asks with a shy smile on her face. There’s something about Jenna that makes me leery of hooking up with her. She’s got a banging body and dresses like she’s fucked every guy within a twenty-mile radius of this bar, but I know that’s not true because she gives off a young-and-innocent vibe that’s too real to be fake. I just wouldn’t feel right sneaking her into a stall in the men’s restroom and fucking her against the wall while staring into her big, blue doe eyes.
“Nope, I’m good for now.” I turn away from her and cut off the conversation because I’m afraid I may change my mind after a few more drinks.
“You should fuck her, man,” Wade mumbles as he looks over his shoulder at Jenna making her way down the bar and away from us.
“Not my type.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? Jenna is every guy’s type. Hell, I’d fuck her, but for some reason she’s got it bad for you, and when you’re here, she ignores every other guy in the room, including me—which is hard to believe. But what the fuck ever.”
I shake my head and laugh. Wade’s mouth continues to move, but I can’t hear him because the pounding of the drums coming from the back corner of the room is growing louder by the second. I smile at my friend, who will more than likely find his way home with somebody tonight. If it’s not Jenna, it’ll be someone else. He’s a whore, but he’s still my best friend, so no judgment here.
“Cherry Blossom,” I murmur as I motion toward the stage. He’s right—the chick is hot with her short, blonde, spiked hair, a strip of velvet covering her small tits, and porcelain skin for days.
Wade stands and moves toward the stage like he’s in a Cherry Blossom trance. I glance over my shoulder at Luke, and his eyes are glued to her, too. Shit, this can’t be good.
“Hello, beautiful people!” a husky female voice bellows from the speakers.
“What the hell?” I bring my gaze back to the stage, but now I can’t see anything. There are too many people blocking my view.
“It’s fucking great to be here!” The same voice resonates throughout the room, the roar of the crowd doing nothing to muffle the familiarity of her voice.
I drop the beer I was drinking onto the counter and push myself away from the bar. This is not happening, not after all these years. No. Fucking. Way. It’s not her—it can’t be.
“I’m Ella Kincaid, and we’re the Velvet Dolls!”
Fucking hell, it is her. She’s here, back in Idlewood, singing in this dive bar, only a few steps away from where I’m standing. My pulse pounds as she belts out the lyrics to the first song. Her sweet, sexy voice still has a touch of huskiness to it that speaks directly to me. I need to see her. I drag a shaky hand through my hair before moving away from the bar and toward Ella Blue’s voice.
I’m in a daze as I maneuver myself through the crowd of people, making my way up to the stage. The closer I get to her, the more difficult it is to push through the crowd. These greedy fuckers need to step aside. It’s been eight years since I’ve seen her. Eight fucking years. After I shove my way through the last couple of bodies that separate me from the stage, I pull in several deep breaths to try to calm my pounding heart. Then I stop, tilt my head back, and stare. Ella Blue. My Blue. She’s finally come home.
7
Leo
“Hey, man, you need to come outside. Somebody stole your car.” Luke’s voice is low and it’s hard to make out his words because of the screaming people surrounding me.
I shake my head and continue to watch Ella. She moves her hips to the rhythm of the music while singing in perfect tune with the rest of the band. Her eyes scan the large space of the room as if she’s trying to connect with every single person. Her voice is amazing, and Ella Blue…is beautiful. The past eight years have been good to her. She’s evolved from the seventeen-year-old girl I once knew into a sexy woman with the perfect combination of soft curves and toned muscles.
“Leo, did you hear me?” Luke grabs my arm and jerks me around to face him. “Somebody just stole your Corvette.”
I lean in closer to Luke so I can hear him clearly, but I never take my eyes off her.
“What?”
“Your car—it’s gone.”
My gaze finally moves from Ella Blue to Luke. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“Your Vette is gone, so you need to come outside and talk to the cops.” He motions toward the exit.
Leaving Blue on that stage to go outside the building isn’t easy. I can’t lose her again.
“I know what you’re thinking, and she’s not going anywhere. She just stepped on stage. Don’t be an idiot, man. It’s your fucking Vette,” Luke says convincingly.
“Fuck, man, this is bullshit.” I take a final look at Blue before pushing my way back through the crowd with Luke following close behind me. We exit through a side door near the back of the bar.
“Over there.” Luke nudges me to the right, directing me toward the two off-duty cops who are working security. “I
talked to them before I came in and found you. They called the station, so someone will be here in a few minutes to talk to you,” Luke says as he turns away.
“Hey! Did you see anything?” I ask him.
He pauses and shakes his head. “Nope. Jenna found me and said one of the security guys saw your Vette hauling ass across the parking lot but never saw anybody leave the building.”
“So, what? It fucking drove away by itself?” I blow out a frustrated breath. “And nobody saw anything other than the car leaving the lot?”
“As far as I know. Just talk to the cops, man,” Luke says before walking toward them.
“I’ll be over there in a few. I’m gonna check out the parking lot first,” I tell him. “Fuck!” I mumble as I squeeze my eyes closed for a few seconds. This is not happening to me tonight. I need to pull myself together and not lose my shit.
I open my eyes before jogging over to the empty spot where I parked my car less than an hour ago. I scan the space for clues, anything that’ll help me find my car, but there’s nothing here except for cracked pavement covered in dirt. I run my hands through my hair and take a deep breath. What am I going to do? I’ve got to find my car. It may sound fucked up, but that car has been my life for the past four years. I bought the frame from a junkyard here in town and then put every dime I had into rebuilding it. It was—is fucking perfect. I refuse to think of it in past tense because I will find it.
“What year was it?” I lift my head and turn to face a blonde chick who looks to be around my age. She’s dressed in faded jeans, a T-shirt, and a pair of pink Chucks. She’s pretty in a nerdy kind of way with her dark glasses and thick hair piled on top of her head. She’s definitely not a cop, so how does she know my car was stolen?
“Who are you?” I ask, my voice laced with suspicion.
“Oh, sorry. I guess you’re wondering how I know about your…” She nods toward the empty parking spot like she doesn’t want to say the word car.
“My car?” I shove my hands into my pockets and look her square in the eye.
“I was on the bus when I saw it speed out of the parking lot.” She motions toward the Reckless Fury tour bus that’s parked to the left of us. “A few seconds later, I saw one of the security guys run across the parking lot. And well, now you’re here, so…” She folds her arms across her chest as she hesitates a beat. “Well, I just assumed it was your car.”
“Is my car. I’m going to find it.” I glance over at the tour bus. There’s not a lot of distance between it and where I was parked. Maybe this chick saw something. Shit, any information would help.
“Of course it’ll be found. This is a small town, and I’m sure the local police know all the right places to search,” she says with a confident smile.
“Did you see anything before it was stolen? Like maybe someone walking over or getting into it? I guess I’m asking if you saw anything other than what you’ve already told me.”
She shakes her head. “No. I was in the back of the bus until I heard tires squealing. That’s why I moved to the window, because I was afraid there had been a wreck.” She widens her stance and puts her hands on her hips. Her eyes rake the entire parking lot before they land on me. “I’m sorry—I forgot to introduce myself.” She smiles and takes a couple steps in my direction. “Gracie Phillips.” She holds her small hand out toward me. “I mean, my name is Gracie Phillips.” She laughs softly.
My gaze drops to her hand just dangling in the air. I shake my head, because honestly, if she can’t help me find my car, I really don’t give a shit about who she is.
Her cheeks turn pink as she drops her hand and slides it into the front pocket of her jeans.
“Look, Gracie, I appreciate your concern, but I need to head over and talk to the guys working security right now. If you think of anything else, I’d appreciate you going to the police with it.” I take a deep breath and look over the parking space one last time before bringing my gaze back to Gracie. “Sure,” she says happily before walking away.
I make my way across the parking lot toward Luke who’s still talking to security. A police cruiser pulls up just as I reach the sidewalk. A cop in his mid-to-late-thirties climbs out of the car with a grimace on his face. I recognize him immediately: Andy Roper. Andy’s a friend of my brother, and I’ve known him most of my life. He knows as well as anybody how important my Vette is to me.
Andy glances over at me as I make my way around his car to meet him.
“Please tell me it wasn’t your car stolen tonight.” He slams the door of his cruiser and then takes a few steps closer to me.
“Yep. Some asshole drove it right out of the parking lot without anybody stopping him.” I look over my shoulder at security. Fuckers.
Andy shakes his head as he walks over to meet me. “Damn, man, I can’t believe it. Whoever did this must have a huge set of balls, or they’re just dumber than shit to be so bold. Do you know if anybody saw anything?” He directs the question to me before looking over at Luke and then the two off duty cops.
“Somebody mentioned that one of the guys working security saw it speeding across the parking lot. I’m assuming no one saw who was driving, at least that piece of information hasn’t been revealed to me.” My entire body shakes with rage. I can’t believe that out of every single car on this lot, the motherfucker decided to take mine.
“What year was it, Leo?” Andy’s question pulls me out of my head and back to the current situation.
“It is a sixty-nine,” I say through gritted teeth.
“It was black, right?”
“It is black,” I tell him. I’m sick and tired of everybody talking about my car in past tense.
The crowd screams from inside the bar, and the noise and vibrations coming from the back of the building are over the top. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was standing inside right in the damn middle of it all. A deep, male voice blares from the speakers: “I’m Dane, that guy over there with the bass is Freddy, this guy next to me is Travis, and our fearless leader on drums is Kurt. We are Reckless Fury!”
The crowd screams and whistles repeatedly. The yelling combined with the loud music has my head throbbing. Ella Blue’s no longer on stage. I need to find her before she leaves.
“Fuck this night!” I blurt the words before I have time to think about where I am and who’s standing in front of me.
“Everything okay, Leo?” Andy asks.
What the hell does he think? No! Everything is not okay, Andy. The car I spent the better part of four years making my own just got stolen, the girl who vanished eight years ago is back, and I may have just lost her again.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just stressed,” I lie, because I’m not in the mood to spill my guts about how my entire life has gone to shit in the last hour. “Do you have any more questions? Because I have something I need to take care of.” There’s nothing else I can do about my car tonight. I’ve got to trust the police to take care of it. Right now I need to get back inside and track down Ella Blue before she’s gone again.
He scratches his head and squints as he looks at the small notepad in his hand.
“Um…I just need the tag numbers, and that’ll be it for now.”
I rattle off the information and then turn toward the bar.
“I’ll need you to come by the station later tonight or first thing in the morning!” Andy yells out before I walk inside.
I’m on a mission that only involves Ella Blue, but I’m not an idiot. She may not want to see me, much less talk to me, but I owe it to myself to try. When she left eight years ago, nobody seemed to know anything. She only had a couple close friends, and they were as much in the dark as I was. Her parents are assholes. Scratch that—her dad is an asshole.
I fight my way through the crowd, surveying every corner for a possible exit the Velvet Dolls may have taken. I spot a couple big guys standing guard next to a red door. I’m not sure where the door leads, but I’d be willing to bet it’s where the band exits af
ter they’ve finished their show. I maneuver myself through the last few people separating me from the door. As I approach, one of the guys moves in front of me and crosses his arms over his chest.
Great. Just fucking great.
“I need to get through this door,” I tell them, avoiding eye contact with either one of them.
“Sure you do, but it’s not happening,” the taller, dark-haired man growls as he glares at me.
“I need to see Ella Blue—I mean Kincaid. Ella Kincaid.” My voice is stern. I’m not fucking around with these two. I don’t know how long I have before she’s gone.
“No one is allowed through this door other than members of the band. So, you’ll have to find Ella Kincaid some other way.” The second guy narrows his eyebrows and leans in closer to me. “In other words, you need to leave before I have you escorted out of the building.”
My eyes dart around the room, looking for any other way to get behind this wall. This is it. The only other doors in this bar lead outside or to the restrooms. Dammit!
“I understand your rules, but if one of you will go back there and ask Ella if she wants to see me—”
“What’s the problem?” A familiar female voice echoes from behind me.
Shit, why is this chick following me?
“No problem, Ms. Phillips. We’re about to escort this gentleman out,” the taller of the two men says, but his statement is directed more toward me than Ms. Phillips.
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Bruce. He’s a friend of mine, so I’ll handle it,” she tells him.
I glance over my shoulder at a pair of green eyes encased in dark frames looking back at me. She smiles and then steps around me. The two men clear the way for her to grab the handle and pull open the door then she motions for me to walk through the doorway I’ve been trying to get behind for the past few minutes. My eyes flit from dumbass number one to dumbass number two as I follow “Ms. Phillips” into the narrow hallway. I can’t help but look over my shoulder, giving my best Fuck you smirk to my newfound friends.
My Blue Page 5