Cardinal

by Sara Mack

When we get to the side of the stage, the place is swarming with crew. They descend upon us, attaching receiver packs to the backs of our clothing and helping us place our ear piece monitors. Dean and Paul are given their guitars, and another crew member tries to hand me mine until he sees the Fender in my hands.

  “Change of plans?” he asks.

  “Yes. Sorry. Is it a problem?”

  “Nope. Here.” He hands me a few extra picks, and I slide them into my back pocket. “You’re all set.”

  I give him a nod of thanks and suddenly Roxanne is in my face. “Nervous?”

  “A little bit, yeah.”

  “Well, snap out of it. You’re stepping on stage in less time than it takes to pour a cup of coffee.”

  My expression twists. “Gee. Thanks for the pep talk, coach.”

  She gives me the first genuine smile I’ve ever received from her. “You don’t need any talk from me. I saw the effect you had on that girl at the meet and greet. I don’t know what you said to her, but she was grinning from ear to ear. I like it.” She leans closer. “Now go out there and show the boys how it’s done.”

  I’m starting to like Rox a little more now.

  Drew walks on to the darkened stage and I go with him. I find my place and plug into the sound system as he gets settled behind his kit. Paul joins us, and my eyes catch the first arena audience I’ve ever seen.

  Now would be a good time to remember how to breathe.

  My hand clutches the neck of my guitar as I stare. I can see the arena isn’t full by any means; however, a lot of people have found their seats. Other concert-goers wander the aisles trying to find their section and, closer to the stage, I see people returning to their friends carrying plastic cups. Drew hits the bass drum a few times and does a quick fill, testing the sound of his equipment. This gets the attention of the audience and, realizing something is about to happen, a small cheer erupts. The sound sends chills down my spine.

  Paul gets my attention from across the stage. He tests a few chords, and I respond back on the Fender. Satisfied with the sound coming through the amps, he starts the bass line that will weave into our first song. In this big space, with this many speakers, you can almost see the notes vibrate through the air. On his cue, Drew jumps into the mix, pounding the drums in a familiar rhythm. Each hit resonates deep in my chest and I close my eyes, listening until the hair on the back of neck stands on end. It’s time for me to add the hook.

  Taking a deep breath, I think of Latson and his faith in me. I think of Oliver, my brother, Jules, and everything that’s brought me here. I open my eyes and see Dean standing at the side of the stage, ready to make his entrance. I strike my first note.

  And find absolute heaven.

  ~~~~

  “Break free of the bonds

  Break free of the chains

  Own the blood

  That runs through your veins

  Love’s bigger than you

  And it’s bigger than me

  We’re breaking free, baby

  We’re breaking free.”

  I finish singing the chorus with Dean. “Breaking Free” is the last song of our set. As the final notes of our instruments fade, Dean sings the ending lines solo:

  “There’s so much more out there to see

  If love breaks one of us, let it be me.”

  The crowd cheers as his voice drifts away.

  “Thank you!” Dean says into the mic. He wipes the sweat off his forehead with his arm. “We’ve had a great time with you tonight, L.A. Now, who’s ready to see Ariel Allyn?” He puts his hand to his ear and the crowd roars. He looks over his shoulder at us, grins, and faces the audience once more. “That’s what we thought. It won’t be long now.”

  He lifts one hand above his head in a wave, our signal to join him at the front of the stage. The guys and I leave our places to form a crooked line with him in the middle. Dean speaks, his voice echoing through the speakers. “Thanks for a great show, Los Angeles! We’ll see you all again real soon.” I watch him take a small bow over his guitar and see Drew wave his sticks in the air. Paul and I wave too, and I know my smile consumes my face. So much adrenaline is pumping through my veins right now, I don’t know what I’ll do to contain myself once we’re off stage.

  Speaking of off stage, as we exit, I catch a glimpse of Heidi and her friends near the front row. They’re being so loud they’re impossible to miss. Heidi must catch me watching because she shuts up for a second. I’m not close enough to see her eyes but I’m sure they’re shooting daggers at me. It doesn’t matter. Nothing can ruin this high.

  Nothing.

  As soon as we’re out of sight, the crew descends upon us again. We’re stripped of everything technical and electronic, and even the Fender finds its case. I’m confused as to how it got backstage, but I’m so geeked about the show I don’t care. People rush everywhere to transform the stage for Ariel, and I realize I should get out of the way. Dean is talking to Roxanne, so I start to head in that direction. Suddenly, strong arms wrap around my waist, stopping and startling me.

  “You blew me away out there.”

  His voice melts over my skin, warm and soft beneath my ear. I turn around and throw my arms around him. “You’re here!”

  Latson grins before ducking his head to catch my mouth with his. It’s a greedy kiss, one I’ve missed, and I pull him closer by the back of his neck. He holds me tight, clutching my waist, as I press the length of my body against his. “Surprise,” he says when we take a breath.

  This night couldn’t get any better. “How long have you been here?”

  “Since we talked on the phone. I was in a cab when you called.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I didn’t want to distract you. Dean needed you focused.”

  “He knew?”

  “Who do you think sent me this?” He holds up a backstage pass. “It pays to grow up with the lead singer.”

  I look at the plastic and get hopeful. “Please tell me that’s good for tomorrow, too.”

  “Definitely. Oliver is staying with Mrs. Gibson until you leave for Anaheim.”

  I bounce up and down on my toes, then pull him toward me and kiss him again. I get to keep him for two whole nights.

  “So, how do you feel?” Latson searches my face. “How was your first show?”

  “It was …” I can’t find words. I don’t think anything I say will do the experience justice. “It consumed me.”

  He gives me a gentle, knowing smile and brushes his thumb across my cheek. “You were incredible.”

  Dean appears beside us. “I see you found each other.” He looks pointedly at me. “I promised you’d be together soon.”

  “You did,” I say. “Thanks for delivering.”

  “C’mon.” He waves us forward. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Up to the label’s private suite. Ariel said we could watch her perform from there.”

  He walks away and my jaw drops. I had hoped I would get to see some of Ariel’s show, especially after being attacked by her props. I assumed if I did it would be from the television in the dressing room or some other obscure location, not a suite. Excited, I start to follow Dean until Latson takes my hand and stops me.

  “Hey.”

  I face him. “What’s up?”

  “Do you really want to watch Ariel?”

  “Yes. Don’t you?”

  He looks confused. “Isn’t there anything else you’d rather do?”

  “Like what?” I know this scene is nothing new to him, but it’s shiny and sparkly to me. “I’ve never seen her perform before. I’ve also never been in a private suite. It sounds like fun.”

  Latson looks disappointed, then shakes the expression away. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” He starts to walk. “Sometimes I forget our experiences are different. Just because you’re on t
our doesn’t mean you’ve seen it all.”

  We make it out of the backstage area and into the hallway I took from the dressing room. We look left and right until we see Dean waving to us from an elevator. Once we make it inside, Latson’s fingers tighten around mine.

  “So, what’d you think?” Dean turns toward Latson. “Did you notice we changed the end of “Over-Exposed”?”

  “I did,” he says. “I know that transition was bothering you. The show was epic, man. A great start.”

  “I thought so, too.” Dean runs his hand through his hair and gives Latson a resigned smile. “It felt like Vegas. Remember?”

  Latson’s eyes go blank for a second. If I didn’t know him so well I wouldn’t have noticed. He quickly adjusts his features and nods. “Yeah. I remember.”

  The elevator stops and we exit. I let Dean get a few steps ahead of us before I ask Latson, “What happened in Vegas?”

  “We opened our first tour there. It was Sacred Sin’s first concert as a headliner.”

  Mentally, I frown. I understand why Dean would compare his first concert with the Union to his first with Sin, but didn’t he realize it would bother Latson? I try to lighten things up. “I bet it was a rush,” I say and then pull on Latson’s hand. He leans over. “But nothing compared to tonight,” I whisper. “Hands down, Vegas blows L.A. out of the water.”

  He kisses me.

  When we arrive at the suite, Roxanne, Drew, and Paul are already congregated by a small bar just off the entrance. The room is filled with people I don’t know, some of whom are already seated outside on the suite’s private balcony. The place resembles a tiny apartment, with a bathroom, the wet bar, and a bunch of overstuffed furniture. A flat screen mounted from the ceiling in one corner broadcasts the empty stage below, and a variety of hors d’oeuvres are set out on a small dining table.

  “There they are!” Paul gets loud. “Get your asses over here and do a shot with us.” He hands Dean a glass filled with amber liquid, then me, and then Latson. “Gunnar! How in the hell are ya?” Paul thumps Latson on the back. Then, he holds up his glass and we all follow suit. “To the Renegade tour! May the groupies be hot, Betty be swift, and the music rock!”

  “Hear! Hear!” Glasses clink together.

  I sniff my shot before I send it down my throat. It smells like whiskey; I bet it’s a Three Wise Men. I toss it back and grimace. Yep. I was right.

  I hand my glass back to the bartender. “Who’s Betty?” I ask no one in particular.

  “The tour bus.” Latson stares at his empty glass. “We always named them Betty.”

  Jesus. Couldn’t they have come up with another name?

  “Let’s go get seats,” I suggest and pull on his arm. “I’d rather sit out on the balcony than in here.”

  “Gunnar? Is that you?”

  A man dressed in a button down and jeans approaches. His dirty blonde hair is styled, and he flashes a perfect white smile.

  “Caleb,” Latson says. I can sense the irritation in his tone, and, judging by the size of the Rolex on Caleb’s wrist, I assume he’s with the record label.

  “Holy shit.” The man shakes his head in disbelief. “Where have you been?”

  “Oh, you know. Here and there.”

  “I thought you fell off the face of the earth.”

  “Nah,” Latson gets sarcastic. “I just disappeared from music.”

  Caleb’s smile disappears. “You know my hands were tied.”

  “Yep. That’s what you said two years ago.” Latson sets his shot glass down on the bar and pushes it forward with two fingers. “It’s good to know you’re sticking with the same story.”

  The record exec looks uncomfortable as Latson turns to me. “Let’s find those seats you wanted.” He sets his hand against my back and starts to usher me toward the balcony.

  “Jen Elliott, right?”

  I give Caleb a questioning look. “Yes?”

  “I caught your set. Dean was smart to bring you aboard. I look forward to working with you.”

  I cross my arms. “And you are?”

  “Oh, forgive me.” He plasters on a smile and extends his hand. “Caleb Jackson. I work for Snare Records.”

  I shake his hand to be polite. “I thought Dean hadn’t signed with a label.”

  “He hasn’t. Not yet. But we’re interested. If the tour goes well, I think we can offer him a pretty sweet deal.”

  “I wouldn’t know anything about that,” I say. “I’m just here to play.”

  Caleb tilts his head toward me. “I like your attitude.”

  Latson presses his hand firmly against my back to get me moving and I nod goodbye to Caleb. As we walk toward the sliding doors that lead to the seating, Latson says, “If Dean signs with that asshole I’ll kill him.”

  I glance back at Caleb who’s now talking with Roxanne. “Why?”

  Latson’s hard eyes meet mine. “Caleb is Levi’s brother.”

  Chapter Twenty One

  Lying on my side, I prop my head against my hand and stare at Latson. He’s sleeping on his back with the starchy white hotel sheets pushed to his waist. My eyes roam upward, over his bare chest, his face, and his arm that’s slung over his head against the pillow. He looks peaceful and content, a far cry from what he was last night. I thought after we left the concert and got away from the record people he would relax. He didn’t. He seemed just as stressed during Ariel’s after party.

  I wanted to talk about what was bothering him, but the Ritz wasn’t the place. The atmosphere was too loud and too busy; there were people everywhere. Dancers, friends, band members, crew, roadies, and, of course, Heidi. Avoiding her death stare was impossible whenever she was in the same room. When we left the party and got back to my hotel, I could tell how tense Latson was by the way he kissed me and the way his hands roamed my skin. He was rough and demanding, which I didn’t mind because I’ve missed him and I wanted him as much as he wanted me. As time passed, the more tender he became. Before we fell asleep he was back to the sweet, teasing, unhurried Latson I remember.

  Without warning, his eyes open and he blinks a few times. “Hey.” He starts to smile but ends up covering a yawn. “I felt you staring.”

  “You did? How?”

  “It’s a side effect of living with a kid.” He reaches for me and I slide over, winding myself around his body. “If I’m asleep and Oliver’s awake, he’ll stare at me until I wake up, too. It’s like a sixth sense.”

  I remember staring at my sleeping parents when I was young, especially around the holidays. “I used to do that. My brothers would always send me into our parent’s bedroom because I was the youngest. I finally put a stop to it when I was twelve. I mean, Pete was eighteen for crying out loud.”

  Latson laughs.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I can imagine your little determined face.”

  “Well …” I drift off. “My brothers had to grow up sometime. I know they were excited about Christmas morning, but come on.”

  Latson squeezes me in a one-armed hug. “I started to get excited about Christmas again after my sister died. I wanted to make the first one special for O. Now, I get just as excited as he does. There’s something to be said for playing the man in red.”

  I never thought about it that way before. I’ve never been around a kid to surprise on Christmas, and my eyes light up. “Can I help this year? I can be an elf.”

  He scrutinizes me. “Hmmm. You’re a little tall and your ears aren’t very pointy. I guess it depends on how you look in green tights.”

  I shove his chest. “You know I can totally rock green tights.”

  He smiles and leans down to kiss me. “I’m sure you can.”

  When he settles back against the pillow, I snuggle closer to his side. “I’m glad you’re in a better mood. I don’t like it when you’re grumpy.”

  He exhales with a heavy sigh. “I didn’t want to see any of those people last night. I only wanted to spend time with you.” />
  My face falls. I should have realized the environment would be difficult for him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged you where you didn’t want to go.”

  He runs the tips of his fingers up and down my back. “Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have let things get to me. Last night was your night.”

  I give him a tiny smile, and he pushes my hair behind my ear. “So. You’ve been christened. First show, first suite, first after party. You’re officially a rock star.”

  I laugh. I’m not, but I felt like one. “You were right. Nothing compares to performing. I’m glad you talked me into it.”

  He shakes his head. “You would have done it regardless. Pete or Jules would have convinced you. Or your parents. Have you talked to them? What do they think?”

  “They sounded thrilled over the phone. They’re planning to come to the last show, since the tour ends in Detroit. You should come, too, and meet them.”

  Latson’s brow jumps. “You want me to meet your parents?”

  “Well, yeah. I’ve already met your dad.”

  He’s silent as he studies me.

  “What?”

  “I’m a tattooed ex-musician raising his nephew. What are they going to think?”

  “They’re going to think you’re stepping in for the father Oliver never had.” I push my body up and partially over him, so we’re face to face. “They’re also going to realize you employ my brother, who makes a decent living. I guarantee they’re going to think I’m happy and you’re amazing.”

  A slow smile spreads across his lips before they’re inches from mine. “In that case,” he kisses me, “I’ll definitely meet your parents.”

  “You will?” I whisper. The thought gives me butterflies. “I guess this means we’re serious, then.”

  “Were we ever not?” His hands slide down my back and find the bottom of my shirt. They slip underneath and start to trace my spine. “The minute I saw you dancing I was serious about you.”

  “No.” I smirk. “You were horny. There’s a difference.”

  He laughs. “Is that why you think I asked you to work for me?”

  “No. You needed me because I have mad bartending skills.”