Wicked End
Page 44
There was another large man posted close by who fell into step with them. When they reached the door to the airport itself, four more male and female officers surrounded them.
Deputy Samuels was one of them. “Glad you took my advice.”
Brandon nodded at him. “After what those crazy bitches did to my girlfriend, no way in hell was I gonna risk it again.
“We have security waiting for you on the other end and a pass so Miss Winters can go with you to the gate.” Deputy Samuels saw several heads turn. “It’s easier to protect you two together. She will have an escort back to her car as well.”
There were no issues, other than a few screaming girls, until they arrived at Brandon’s gate. Mackenzie sat down and pulled in her lips. She was trying hard not to cry. Brandon was doing almost the same, standing over her. They had several people guarding them still, but they had stepped back to give them a semblance of privacy.
Brandon knelt in front of Mackenzie and grasped her hands. “You know I don’t wanna leave you.” He had already gotten several threatening texts from Jake, not to miss his flight. “Things changed so much this past month.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, quelling the unfamiliar emotions. “I can’t believe I fell in love. Never thought that would happen to me.” He pulled her hands to his chest. “You’re the most important thing in my life, but…” He trailed off, wanting to say it in the right way.
“Music is your life too.” She knew what he was thinking. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I know you need to tour and write music and record. I get that girls adore you mostly because you’re famous. It just hurts to have to let you… go…” For the second time that day, she broke down.
Folding her into his arms, he let his own tears flow. Love shouldn’t hurt like this. I should just be happy I found her. He struggled to get himself together, but there was no use. His heart was breaking. He hoped Scott or Chico had a few minutes just to talk when he got there. Dealing with this seemed impossible, but both of them had been in his shoes in a way at one point.
Mackenzie heard his flight announced over the speakers and froze. Not yet, please, not so soon! She clung to him. “Please…” She cried into his shirt.
“Mr. Knight, we need to get you on board.”
She didn’t look up, just took a few breaths, knowing she was making it harder for him. “I’m sorry. I’ll be fine.” She stood up and hugged him as tight as she could.
“Two weeks, that’s all,” Brandon whispered in her ear. He kissed her temple then lifted her chin. “I love you.” His lips brushed over hers. “Meet you in New Orleans, Tink.” He let her go, knowing she needed him to do it for her.
Mackenzie’s lip trembled. “I love you too,” she cried to him as he took a few steps back. “Call me when your plane lands.”
About the Author
Bella Jeanisse hails from New York City. At 10 years old, Bella picked up her first guitar. She was instantly hooked. Because of her deep passion for tall men, rock music, tattoos and motorcycles, she has gotten to know many musicians and roadies over the years—in every possible way. And although she has been writing risqué stories about musicians for many years, she has just recently taken these tales to the next level revealing, through her protagonists, the hold some of these men still have on her. They have inspired more than they ever imagined.
Now living in Florida with her three sons, she juggles domestic responsibilities, a social life, her career as an IT professional and her writing as carefully as possible. They do cross paths as you have seen in her first collection of short stories. Her life is busy and full, yet very fulfilling.
The few limits Bella puts on her love-life may be found as but a shadow in her writing. She draws from life, fantasy and inspiration to create each tale.
Bella has broadened her horizons to include short stories, Insatiable Appetites, with many more to come, some just a sentence at this point. The subjects range from military men to biker chicks to naughty doctors and much, much more.
She is also expanding the Triple Threat world to include bands that readers have met in the original novels. This is the first book in that series with many to come. The sequel to Wicked End is already in the works, as well at Gasoline’s book and Triple Threat III. Soon enough you’ll get to know Silverblade and Brass Monkey too… So many hot rock stars, so little time to bring them to life.
Read an excerpt of what’s next for Bella's exciting world, Gasoline in the following pages!
Follow Bella on Twitter @BellaJeanisse
Thanks for reading Wicked End. We appreciate your interest in our books. As a courtesy, we’ve included the following Sneak Peek chapters from books we think you might also enjoy. Happy reading!
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Sneak Peek: Gasoline
by Bella Jeanisse
Chapter One
Gasoline’s tour bus, driven by crewmember TJ, headed down I-76 in Pennsylvania, on the road to Michigan. The last August free show at the military training center was the next day. There they would meet up with Wicked End and several other bands.
Dominic Spinelli, Gasoline’s lead guitarist, sat on the couch in the front room. His long dark brown hair was in a ponytail to keep it out of his face, as he watched an action movie. At about five foot eleven, with a thin frame, he didn’t look like much, but girls seemed to be attracted to his green eyes and intellect.
He was the only member of the band who had graduated from college. Sometimes his slight geekiness worked to his advantage. Like when he needed to hold a real conversation with someone. His knowledge did reveal his age though. At 38, he was the oldest of the group. The trip, though, had been nothing but aggravation for him so far. He felt like the referee at a hockey game.
Dean Johnson, their vocalist and rhythm guitarist was one big reason why. He was conceited, childish and a bit sadistic. With deep brown, layered hair and sometimes-scary dark brown eyes, his model-like good looks brought women to their knees. He was almost as tall as Dominic, but with a well-defined, but not quite muscular body. Groupies were a bad habit for him. He could care less about who he fucked, just needed it often. He usually lied about being 37. Girls believed anything he said.
Tommy Fischer, Gasoline’s bassist, was similar to Dean. Except he had a lot more respect for the women he slept with. Although, not enough for Dominic. He too drew them in with his boyish good looks. They liked to stare into his nearly turquoise eyes and toy with his dimples or run their fingers through his spiked hair. He had it dyed black with blonde tips every time his naturally light brown showed through.
At 35, he was the youngest member, and looked about 25 to most. He used that to his advantage. The one thing he would change was his height. At five foot eight, some chicks were taller than him with heels on. He hated that. However, his athletic physique made up for it once he took his shirt off. He loved fingers running over his hard-earned biceps or raking down his chest to get to his six-pack.
Then there was Jon Harris, the band’s drummer. He was a huge man, although shockingly graceful for his size. At six foot eight and about 275 lbs, he looked more like a football player than a musician. He was the main owner of Demonfire, a private record label. He kept his head shaved because his hairline receded at a young age, but it suited him as much as his signature black goatee. He too was 37 and tended to stick to women close to his age, but didn’t deny a young woman who wanted him.
Triple Threat traveled with them. They were a band from the same southwest New Jersey town as Gasoline. Signed to Demonfire, Jon was promoting them and their first album that was mostly still in the recording phase. The title
track to Trapped in the Middle hit the radio over a month ago. It did well in digital sales from day one.
Crystal Atkinson, Triple Treat’s bassist, was the only girl on board the bus. She was attractive, with blue eyes and long brown hair that had red highlights. At five foot four inches and around 110 lbs, she was seen as weak at times, so her bandmates protected her fiercely.
Giovanni Saracino, Triple Threat’s drummer and Crystal’s boyfriend, rarely allowed her to be alone. It was for her peace of mind, as well as his. He was almost as an imposing figure as Jon. He had long, nearly black hair and deep brown eyes. He stood six-foot tall and had a highly muscular body.
Chad McLoughlin was just as protective. He was their guitarist, Crystal’s best friend and her ex-lover. Their relationship was more complicated than even her man knew. He towered over most at six foot four and had the body of a god in Crystal’s eyes, but was not as bulky as Giovanni. Girls did go crazy over his baby blues and very long curly blonde hair. None of them got very far with him though. He was still hung-up on Crystal.
Lastly, there was Chris Bradley, Triple Threat’s singer. He was the only one who indulged in groupies. He was a lot like Tommy in that aspect, whenever and wherever. At 25, two years older than the rest of the band, he knew what he wanted in life: fame. Handsome, with light brown hair and hazel eyes, he attracted a great number of women nightly. He carried his thin, five foot ten frame confidently, and his decent sized biceps didn’t hurt.
The two bands along with fourteen crewmembers, were trying to make the best of what could have been a crappy trip. Everyone tried not to get in each other’s way or get annoyed at the cramped quarters. It was only for a half a day there and then back home. Only one got on everyone’s nerves.
“Gimmie another beer.” Dean put a hand out to Crystal who was getting a bottle of water from the refrigerator. He leaned over the kitchenette table towards her, hair falling in front of his eyes. His long bangs annoyed him at times, but he liked the way they made him look. “Now, ba—by.” He hated that Chad was allowed to call her that.
She rolled her eyes as she handed him a sixth brew. “You had enough.” Her eyebrows went up when she saw his fingernails were painted black. She had not noticed that.
Dominic shook his head. “She’s not your slave, asshole.” He was tired of Dean expecting Crystal to do everything for him. “Giovanni… Jon… Dean’s using Crystal as his gofer again.”
“She won’t let me fuck her,” Dean announced. “The least she could do is show me a little pussy and bring me my drinks. Come sit on my lap and…” A big hand hit him on the back of the head and he choked. “Hey!”
Jon glared at him, standing above him. “For the last time, hands off!” His physique scared many, including the much smaller Dean.
“I didn’t touch her,” Dean protested.
Jon looked to Crystal and she shook her head. “Then stop asking her to do shit.” He grabbed a soda and returned to the back where he, Mark (one of Tripe Threat’s roadies,) and a few others watched a Sylvester Stallone movie.
Dominic laughed. He loved when Dean was put in his place. The fifteen-hour ride was not even half over and Dean had barked orders for half of it. “Just keep drinking.” If he drunk himself into a stupor, at least he would shut up.
Tommy was lying in his bunk. Well, it wasn’t really his bunk. He won it in a way, since they had only brought the road crew’s bus. A movie played on the DVD player. He wished he had Crystal to fuck instead, but Giovanni didn’t want everyone to know they still fooled around.
He ran a hand through his freshly dyed hair. It took a bit of work to get it how he wanted. His hairdresser was good though. That morning he had thanked her with a quick fuck in the back room. She didn’t care that he wasn’t six foot tall or have a nine-inch cock. All she wanted was the pleasure she knew he could deliver.
In the front room, Crystal sat beside Dominic. She felt kind of achy and tired. The symptoms made her nervous, since she had yet to begin her monthly cycle. Although, it had been a long day and she was standing in boots for most of it. “Do you guys have aspirin or anything?”
“You can’t take that,” Chad shouted as he walked into the main cabin. His eyes opened wide when he realized everyone had heard him. “I heard it can cause stomach problems.”
He knew there was still the possibility she was carrying his child, something they wanted no one else to know. The night more than a month ago in Rosario’s rental car, was burned in his brain. Several pregnancy tests had inconclusive results, but he knew there was still a chance.
Glaring at Chad, Crystal replied, “Then whatever, something for my back.”
Dominic noticed the staring contest, but decided he should ask in private what was going on between them. “Giovanni, can you grab my bag back there?”
“Yeah,” Giovanni yelled back from the edge of the front room. Soon he came down the hall with the red bag in tow. “What happened?”
Dominic searched through the pockets of his medical bag he had carried around since first becoming a paramedic many years ago. “Crystal has a backache. Maybe one of the guys’ll let you sleep in a bunk instead.”
Because they were over capacity, they had brought sleeping bags and airbeds. Some had already gone to bed, taking shifts in the bunks. Even the truck had two extra people. Usually one of the crew crashed on the mattress in the rear of the cab while they were on tour.
It was getting close to midnight, so most were getting sleepy waiting for their turn. Giovanni and Crystal were set to sleep on a small airbed in the back room. Dominic was almost sure if she did, she would wake up in pain. He pulled out a bottle of acetaminophen. “I think this is all I got. Most of the guys use alcohol. You’re off your meds. Have a beer.”
Chad pursed his lips and kept his eyes on her. He wanted to say something so badly, but he didn’t want to reveal their secret. Giovanni would beat him to within an inch of his life if he knew he had fucked her again. Never mind that he came in her.
“I don’t like Heineken.” Crystal took the pills and a swig of water. “Thanks.”
Chad sighed with relief. “Why don’t you go lay down? Are any of the bunks free for a few hours?”
Tommy quickly texted Giovanni:
Mine is
Dominic stood and walked down the row of twelve bunks, checking them all. Then he came back. “All full.” He thought about giving her his, but he was sharing as well, and it wasn’t empty.
Chad shrugged. “I’ll go fix the airbed for you.” He walked to the back.
Giovanni felt his phone vibrate. After reading the message and answering, he took Crystal’s hands in his. He pulled her up to him then whispered, “Tommy said you can sleep in his bunk.”
Dominic pretended he didn’t hear and sat down again. He looked up at the latest Marvel battle game Vince, Gasoline’s Production Manager and Crazy Mike, their head sound tech were playing. It was one he had planned to buy, but never got around to it.
Sometimes he wished things were like they used to be. Before they were famous, he and Tommy were best friends. When Tommy started fucking every groupie who got within arm’s reach, they drifted apart somewhat.
Dominic didn’t think sex should be an outlet or the only reason to talk to a girl. He felt it was a way to connect, but only after getting to know them pretty well. Sometimes there’s a spark right away. He learned how to build on that. It made sex more intense for him and a lot more satisfying.
In the bunk, Tommy had a huge grin on his face as he read the reply:
Great, thanks
Sex is why he always chose a top bunk, more head room. He hoped he got some before they arrived in Michigan. Since Crystal was the only female, she was his only chance.
“It’s all set.” Chad put a hand on Giovanni’s shoulder. “I’m gonna catch some sleep too.”
Dominic had hoped Chad was staying up so he could ask him what was going on. He frowned when he wedged himself into a sleeping bag in a corner, just big en
ough to fit. Then he sighed. He would have to ask the next day. He had talked to both Chad and Crystal about their need to tame things between them. He hoped they had listened. At least there weren’t any more obvious looks of longing.
When Crystal and Giovanni disappeared down the hall, Dominic reached his hand out. “I got next.” Crazy Mike had just lost. A controller was passed to him, and he started choosing characters. It was something mindless that he hoped calmed him.
Crazy Mike opened the refrigerator and saw it needed to be restocked. There were only two cold beers left. “You want a beer, Dom?” He reached up to the cabinet over the refrigerator and took down two more six packs.
“Yeah.” Dominic took the offered bottle and drained half of it while Vince continued to build his team. “How come you always pick Ghost Rider?”
Vince grinned. “I like him.” That was his favorite hero, because he wasn’t all hero.
Sometime later, Giovanni pulled back Tommy’s curtain then leaned on the edge of the bunk. “You really don’t mind if she sleeps here for the night?”
“You know I’m sleeping here too, right?” Tommy whispered. He got a nod. “Any restrictions?” He hoped for none.
After a look at Crystal, Giovanni sighed, a bit unsure. “No fucking without me.” He looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to them. He didn’t want anyone to know what they were doing. Everyone seemed to be falling asleep or busy.
“No fucking,” Tommy repeated. “Will do… well or not do.” He helped her up and over him then gave her part of his pillow. “So anything else is on, right?” He scanned her body clad in a short lacy nightgown, that covered too much of her.