by Loki Renard
Kevin snorted. “You’re never a lowly anything, Miles. I should have seen this coming. Cash has never bothered falling for anyone before, you know that? I’d take her out to functions and parties and she’d smile and dance and make polite conversation with guys. But never any more than that. And I’m not talking just any guys. I’m talking about men who can have almost any girl they want. But she was never interested in any of them. Then you walk in the door and she swoons.”
He shook his head in a mixture of amazement and frustration. “How the hell did you do it?”
“I didn’t intend to do anything,” Miles said. “I’m just myself.”
“And now Cash is trying to be just herself. And that’s not going to work.”
Miles pressed his lips together and counted to five in his head before responding. “Kevin, do you hear the things that come out of your mouth? I mean, do you listen to the things you say?”
“I’m telling it like it is.”
“Are you? You don’t put the same sort of pressure on Mattie that you do on Cash.”
“Mattie is different. She’s built her brand on being real. When she sings, people listen because they feel every word.” Kevin’s eyes lit up as he spoke about Mattie. “But Cash, Cash is more of a product.” He held up his hands. “And before you kick my ass, I mean she’s positioned as something manufactured, she’s an image, a young goddess for girls to aspire to and men to lust after. The two of them couldn’t be more different.”
“Maybe Cash can be more like Mattie than you think.”
Kevin frowned. “Maybe you should just let me do my job and I’ll let you do yours.”
“Maybe you two should just fuck and get it over with.”
Mattie had sneaked back into their presence just in time to hear Kevin’s last sentence. She was dressed in black satin men’s style pajamas, complete with breast pocket that contained a couple of cigarettes and a lighter. “You guys bicker like an old married couple, you know that, right?”
“You know Mattie, with the way you antagonize Kevin every time he’s irritated, I’m starting to think you want a good thrashing,” Miles observed, keeping his tone neutral.
“I do not!” Mattie scowled at him furiously, but a hint of a blush on her cheeks belied her anger.
“The lady doth protest too much,” Kevin chuckled, his good humor returning almost instantly as they ribbed Mattie.
“The lady is going to put her boot in your ass if you don’t shut up,” Mattie rejoined.
“Are you going to let her get away with that?” Miles smirked. He was hardly ever flippant, but he’d had quite enough of Kevin’s lectures and even more of Mattie’s attitude. Maybe Mattie was just the distraction Kevin needed.
“Mattie, go to bed,” Kevin groaned. “We’ve all had a long flight.”
“Oh for god’s sake, stop ordering me about,” Mattie said. “I’m going to have a smoke.” She half-limped over to the balcony that overlooked the street. A gust of cool, wet air blew in as she went out and huddled in a corner, attempting to light her cigarette. It didn’t work. Within a couple of minutes she was back, shivering and annoyed. “This weather is shit,” she said succinctly. “I’m smoking in here.”
“Mattie, please for the love of all that is good in the world, go to bed.” Kevin stood up, apparently ready to deal with the problem. “This isn’t a smoking suite.”
“This isn’t a fucking anything suite,” Mattie observed. “It looks like somewhere old people go to die.”
She had a point. The décor was dated to say the least, no matter how much the hotel might have described it as ‘classic’. It was also fairly ornate and probably quite valuable, but nobody was in the mood to be impressed.
“What are we doing?” Cash was up, wearing a long white silk robe that gave her an ethereal presence in that stuffy British room. There was a brief moment of silence as Miles, Mattie and Kevin stopped and simply stared.
“Why are you all looking at me like that? Have I grown an extra head?” Cash swept onto a couch and looked at Miles and Kevin. “Were you picking on Mattie again?”
“I do not pick on people, Miss Raine,” Miles said. “Not anyone who doesn’t go out of her way to deserve it.”
“I need a cigarette,” Mattie said. “They’re being fucking Brits about it.”
“Brits?” Kevin queried.
“I could use the word I was going to, if you like?”
“Oh let her smoke if she wants to,” Cash sighed. “There’s some sort of library room in this place isn’t there?”
There was indeed ‘some sort of library room’. It was a smallish room festooned with book cases, and furnished with four leather arm chairs set in circular fashion about a heavy carved wooden table. The room was provided with an ashtray, which was all the encouragement Mattie needed. She was soon ensconced in a chair that seemed two sizes too large for her and puffing away like a little steam train.
Whilst Mattie smoked herself silly, Cash, Miles and Kevin went to their separate rooms. Cash was disappointed that Miles refused to share her room, Kevin and Miles were still displeased with one another and Mattie, well Mattie thought the whole deal was a bit shit. With the London rain pounding down outside, the foursome settled in for a vaguely uncomfortable and mutually disgruntled night.
*
All discomforts were forgotten the next evening when the tour kicked off at the O2 arena. As usual, Kevin remained behind at the hotel. He was edgy enough with all the travel and paparazzi problems without adding loud pounding music to the equation. Miles supervised Cash and Mattie’s transport to the venue and kept close guard as they prepared for the show. The tour was a large affair and in addition to Cash and Mattie, there was a stage crew that had traveled over from the States, as well as several more support staff including a dedicated seamstress to get Cash in and out of her less conventional outfits. Even the flamboyantly charming Raoul had made it his business to come along, in case of ‘dance emergencies’.
It was Mattie’s first time opening for Cash. She was practically vibrating with nerves. Miles suspected she was also dosed up pretty well on painkillers because she showed little sign of being injured, at least at first. Whilst Mattie bounced off the walls, Cash had gone to her mellow place. She sat quite still and calm as the make up team worked their magic, transforming her from pretty young woman to mega star.
When all was said and done, Miles retired to the wings to keep watch. There were several additional men posted around the arena, all of whom he’d personally vetted. With the recent security breaches, he wasn’t taking any chances. It was more than a professional mission to keep Cash safe - it was a very personal one.
The lights went out, and a hush fell over the crowd. A bass line kicked in, a spotlight hit the stage, and Mattie began proceedings with a primal scream that erupted out of her small frame, echoing around the stadium. Her cry was met with one from the crowd, but even the combined shouts of thousands of people could not drown out her voice. Miles found himself impressed, deeply so. Mattie commanded the stage completely, and when she began to sing / scream lyrics it was actually quite something to behold.
YOU WANTED ME DEAD
BUT I’M IN YOUR HEAD
SO LIVE ON LIVE ON
WITHOUT ME
A volley of drumbeats rent the air, a second spotlight lit the stage and Cash’s voice lifted in a honey-sweet melody.
My blood, your heart,
I’ll never end,
Hold your breath,
Hold your breath,
Hold your breath,
Take it all in…
They looked good together up there as they shrieked and sung something that managed to be haunting in spite of the bass that seemed to make the whole world rumble. The crowd loved it, throwing their hands in the air as they screamed along with Mattie and attempted to match Cash’s lyrical prowess.
For once, Cash was dressed in what Miles considered to be almost appropriate attire. She was wearing jeans, albeit
very tight, very ripped jeans, but still jeans. Her upper body was clad in a dark tank top, cut low to reveal ample cleavage. Compared to her usual outfits it may as well have been a potato sack.
Miles was forced to come to a reluctant, very unlikely, conclusion. Mattie was good for Cash. Cash wasn’t doing her usual gyrations; she was just singing her heart out. He was certain she would return to her usual moves later in the program, but as he watched her sing with Mattie, he saw something he’d not seen since the morning he’d caught her dancing all alone. He saw Cash being herself.
DROWN ME BUT I DO NOT DIE
CUT ME BUT ITS YOU THAT BLEEDS
I’LL LIVE ON. LIVE ON. LIVE IN
YOU EVERY TIME YOU THINK OF ME
Mattie’s voice rose to a raw shriek, the lights slammed off and the venue was plunged into momentary darkness whilst the hook from Rodeo began pounding over the speakers. When the lights came up again Mattie was gone, Cash was in a skirt that just barely covered her ass, and her hips were already gyrating with the beat. Her smile was broad, but even at a distance, Miles thought it plastic. It was back to business as usual. Back to the poppy beats, filthy lyrics and mindless messages.
To his surprise, Mattie made a beeline for him after her part of the performance was done.
“Whaddya reckon, Muscles?” Mattie’s eyes were caked with enough dark makeup that she looked like a raccoon. She was already smoking, a fact that did not surprise him in the slightest.
“I thought it was very good.”
Mattie beamed and her entire face was transformed. “Well thanks Muscles, that’s real nice of you to say.”
“What do you think of the concert?” He attempted polite conversation, thoroughly expecting an eye roll or a sort of derision at the question. But Mattie seemed to be in a chatty mood.
“I think I’d be tearing my hair out if I was Cash,” Mattie said. “But she looks damn good doing her thing. They love her.” There was a pause and a sidelong glance. “Almost as much as you do.”
“Excuse me?”
“You think it’s a secret? I know who it was in those photos. That was you, Muscles. You and Cash have been taking long walks on the beach. Canoodling in the sand dunes.” Mattie grinned.
“Is that what Cash told you?”
“Cash is keeping her mouth shut,” Mattie said. “But I know what I see. And I know what I hear. You and Kevin are fighting over her like a couple of Billy goats.”
Miles pressed his lips shut, neither confirming or denying. Next to him, Mattie cackled with uproarious amusement. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t tell. Wouldn’t want to get you into trouble, Muscles.”
“Mattie…” he growled. “Stop stirring.”
“Hold this,” she said, handing him the cigarette. “I gotta get out there again.”
Sure enough, the music slammed into a minor key and the bass line slowed as Mattie stomped out onto the stage. She began to sing just as Miles started to make another sweep. He caught the first verse, such as it was.
FUCK YOUR SOCIETY
FUCK YOUR PROPRIETY
WE DON’T NEED YOUR DEITY
GOD IS DEAD
Judging by the howls of the crowd, they were of like mind. Miles was slightly puzzled by proceedings. What was taking place didn’t feel like a Cash Raine concert. It felt like a Cash Raine concert in another dimension. He rather liked it.
When Mattie returned to his side a while later, he cast a questioning look down at her. “God is dead?”
“Don’t like it? Blame Nietzsche,” Mattie quipped. “Besides, makes a change from Rodeo Sticks, right?”
Miles looked out onto the stage, where Cash’s regular performance had resumed. She was being held aloft by four brawny, shirtless dancers. She herself, was wearing nothing but a sparkling red cloth strapped around her breasts. It wound around her back and then covered her crotch. Nothing untoward could be seen, but her body was almost indecently exposed, her toned torso contorting as she rolled around in the arms of the men, warbling something about falling in love.
Mattie let out a low whistle under her breath. “That girl is too damn hot for her own good.”
Again, Mattie was right. On stage, Cash was a sparkling goddess. Her voice and her movements transported Miles to a primal place. He almost forgot about the crowd as he feasted his eyes on Cash. It occurred to him that she was channeling something far deeper than the bubblegum lyrics would suggest. She wasn’t just another singer wriggling her hips. She was sex itself, a feminine force that entranced and enchanted all those watching. Or maybe that was just his desire whispering in his ear, wanting him to give way to animal impulse.
“Shouldn’t you be working?” Mattie nudged him.
He looked down at her, slightly puzzled. Mattie usually avoided him like the plague, communicating in scowls and sometimes the occasional grunt. But she’d been clingy all night, barely leaving his side except when she was performing. There could be only one reason for that - she was afraid of something. Maybe the fight that had resulted in the two broken ribs she nursed when she thought nobody was looking had scared her more than she wanted to let on. His suspicion grew when the concert ended and Cash wanted to attend the after party, which was being held at the same venue, but Mattie didn’t.
Cash was buzzed from the performance and ready to let off some steam. She came out of her dressing room wearing a short cocktail dress and with her hair and makeup re-done for a night out. She looked transcendentally beautiful, so much so his heart hurt just looking at her.
“Miles, will you take Mattie back to the hotel? There’s lots of security here,” Cash said, “and you can come right back and watch me. I just want to make sure she has someone looking out for her.”
“I can have one of the guys take her back,” Miles said. He was reluctant to leave Cash alone, even for a few minutes.
“I’d feel better if you did it,” Cash said, imploring him with those wicked baby blue eyes.
“Very well,” Miles said. He had a word with the auxiliary security hired for the tour, then, satisfied that Cash was as safe as anything or anyone could be, he commended her to their care.
“Mighty nice of you to escort me home, Muscles,” Mattie said as they took a side exit and got into a waiting car.
“Someone has to make sure you don’t get jumped by mysterious shadowy strangers again,” he deadpanned. “For no reason at all.”
Mattie looked at him, a pale figure in the depths of the cab. “You’re mad I didn’t give you more details? You want details?” She shifted uncomfortably. “Okay. I went out for a cigarette and someone punched me in the back of the head. After that, things got bad.”
Taking the rare opportunity afforded by Mattie being in a talking mood, Miles kept questioning her. “And you don’t know why someone would do that?”
“It’s never happened before,” Mattie said. “I know I look like I get into fights all the time, but I hadn’t been in a fight since 3rd grade until that asshole sucker punched me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Miles said, feeling slightly guilty. He’d privately blamed Mattie for the entire incident, thinking she’d no doubt started the fight. If she really had been jumped out of nowhere, then it made sense that she had agreed to his rules, and that she wasn’t putting up a fight about him taking her home. It made sense that she’d been sticking close to him at the concert. She was scared. Really scared.
“It hurt,” she said. “That guy kicked the crap out of me.”
Miles frowned. “It was a man? I thought you said it was a group of people.”
“I lied,” Mattie said, shrugging. “I didn’t want everyone thinking I was weak. It was just one guy. He didn’t say anything, he just kicked my ass.”
“Mattie…” Miles half growled, half sighed. “It could have been the same man who broke into Cash’s suite. If you’d told me the truth at the time, we might have been able to do more.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t think about it.” She
gave him a look that was at once apologetic and a little bit afraid. “I don’t know why anyone would do that. I really don’t. And I didn’t know anything would happen to Cash.”
“You need to start trusting me and talking to me, Ms. Dwyer,” Miles said. “I can’t keep anybody safe if people lie to me.”
Mattie looked shamefaced. “I’ll try. It’s not really in my nature, y’know?”
Miles did know.
They were drawing close to the hotel. He was looking forward to leaving Mattie with Kevin and getting back to Cash. With his favorite celebrity in a partying mood, the evening was looking promising. Perhaps they’d be able to sneak away a little later and enjoy some intimate time together. Flashes of her tight bottom just barely encased in that little blue dress danced in his mind.
“Oh my god.” Mattie’s gasp cut through his pleasant thoughts. She’d gone ahead and opened the suite door. He looked at what she was looking at, and all semblance of a pleasant evening was shattered.
There was blood on the floor, thick patches of it sinking into the cream carpet. The source of the sanguine makeover quickly became apparent. Kevin was tied to a chair in the middle of the suite. There was a cut on his head, blood dripping into his eyes and trickling down his nose. His hands and feet had been bound with cable ties and a pair of what looked like Cash’s panties were stuffed into his mouth. Miles wasted no time in removing the gag and releasing Kevin. Aside from some bruising, he seemed to be in one piece, though the haunted look in his eyes was of concern. He stared right through Miles, saying nothing at all.
“Who did this? Kev?”
Kevin shrugged. It wasn’t just a shrug that indicated he didn’t know. It was one that indicated he didn’t care. Not at all. Miles’ heart sank.
Mattie kicked the door shut with a feral snarl. “Enough of this fucking shit. First I get jumped, now Kev does? Some sick fuck is trying to pick us off, one by one.”
The impact of the door hitting the frame made Kevin startle – then he was gone. Just gone. He stared off into space, his lips moving, but no sound coming out.
“Kev. Kev.” Miles shook him gently. “Come back, buddy.”