Six Guns and Six Strings: 13 Book Excite Spice Cowboys and Rock Stars Mega Bundle (Excite Spice Boxed Sets)

by Selena Kitt

  Muzza had a mouth full of burger but still started a conversation. “So, you and Debbi… Going alright, is it?”

  Jag smiled and shrugged. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I really like her.”

  Muzza put down his pint. “Fuck me! For you, that’s almost like you’re considering proposing.”

  Jag laughed. “Bollocks. I just enjoy being with her, that’s all.”

  “You mean you enjoy being ‘in’ her.”

  “No. Well, yeah. But I like talking to her. She’s nice. Don’t make such a big deal of me actually liking someone. What about you and Mindy?”

  A big smile spread over Muzza’s face. “She’s a fucking dream – absolutely filthy. D’you know what she did—?”

  “Stop there!” Jag held up his hand. “I’ll need to look her in the face later, and I can’t do that if you tell me loads of stuff you’ve done to her.”

  “She did most of it to me. When she was blowing me off she stuck her finger right up—”

  “No, no, no.” Jag held his ears.

  Muzza shrugged. “Sorry.” He picked up his burger and put it to his mouth, but quickly added, “I shot my load straight away.”

  Jag dropped his own burger and looked away, shaking his head.

  Muzza chuckled. “Good job you didn’t order mayonnaise on that.”

  Jag laughed too, and downed his pint. “Same again?”

  * * *

  When they got back to the poly, there was still no sign of Gash. Jag had been hoping he and Debbi could get a taxi back to the guest-house and spend a couple of hours in bed. He saw the girls’ instruments out of their cases, so they’d obviously done their sound-check while he’d been in the pub. He was just about to ask Muzza if he knew where Debbi and Mindy might be when Simon came to speak to him about tapes. Apparently they’d sold out most of them, so Simon was hoping to take orders and post them on. Jag didn’t know if your average punk student would be prepared to pay three quid up front for something that might get posted to them in the future. He suggested asking someone on the student union committee to see if they’d be prepared to sell the cassettes if they could get a few dozen delivered here next week. Simon nodded and went off in search of somebody else to help him get his twenty percent.

  Jag didn’t get to see Debbi again until Gash got on stage just before ten. Once again he was shocked at how different she looked in all her punk regalia – but tonight even more so. Her make-up was gaudy, her hair gelled into a mo-hawk and sprayed shocking pink. Instead of fishnet tights she wore ripped black nylon stockings held up by a suspender-belt, revealing an inch of white thigh below her short denim skirt. Her vest-top was hiked up so there was a three-inch band of flesh showing above her skirt, though her bass guitar covered some of it at the front. As Jag watched from the side of the hall, Debbi never once looked in his direction.

  Something was wrong.

  He remembered her absence during the afternoon, and wondered if she’d phoned home and gotten even more bad news about her brother.

  There was a thirty-minute interval between Gash finishing their set and Frenzy starting theirs. Jag was already changed into his stage clothes and waited as long as he could in sight of the door to the room Gash was using, but Debbi didn’t come out. He had to make his way to the steps when he heard the crowd cheering as the rest of his band made their way onto the stage. All through the set Jag looked out for Debbi but she never showed up. It was during The Riot’s set that he finally saw her talking to Kelly and their roadies at the far end of the bar. Jag made his way over towards them, and when Debbi spotted him she said something to the others strode towards him, her face grim.

  “Hiya,” he said. “Is everything alright?”

  “No it fucking isn’t. I feel like a complete idiot, and I think you’re a complete twat.”

  Jag didn’t know what had happened since the last time they’d spoken. “What are you on about?”

  “I don’t like being used, and I certainly don’t like being part of your fucking games.”

  He felt like he’d been kicked. “What!?”

  “Why don’t you just piss off and leave me alone?” Debbi turned to walk back to her friends, and Jag tried to catch her hand. She snatched it out of his grip. “Fuck off!”

  She’d actually snarled at him. Stunned, Jag saw her disappear into the mass of people watching the band and when his legs finally decided to work again, he wandered back to the bar. Muzza and Mindy were talking seriously. When Jag reached them, Mindy turned her back and walked away.

  “What’s happened?” Jag asked his friend.

  “Mindy reckons someone’s told Debbi you’re working your way through their band for a bet.”

  Jag was horrified. “I’m what? Who told her that?”

  Muzza shrugged and shook his head.

  “But you told Mindy the truth, right?” Jag asked.

  “I told her you didn’t fuck women for bets.”

  Jag’s first thought was it must have been Wood. The argument where he’d threatened to replace Wood with another singer was obviously still a sore point. But then again, why would Debbi choose to believe Wood rather than him? Jag downed his drink and told Muzza he was going back to the hotel.

  * * *

  Two hours later, Jag was lying awake on his bed when Muzza came into their room.

  “You still awake then?

  He sighed. “No, I’m fast asleep and you’re just a fucking ugly nightmare.”

  Muzza smiled. “Well, Debbi being back in their room means I don’t get to stay with Mindy.” He rubbed his crotch and raised his eyebrows at Jag. “So, how’d you like to take her place?”

  “Fuck off.”

  Muzza stripped his shirt off and dropped his leather trousers. “Come on baby, you know you want me…”

  “If you don’t go to sleep, I’ll be doing Mindy’s trick. But instead of a nicely manicured middle finger, I’ll be shoving my whole fist up your fat hairy arse!”

  Muzza laughed and made his way into the bathroom. He left the door open while he peed, letting out a loud fart as he did so. Jag found it hard to believe it was only twenty four hours since he’d been sharing this bedroom and bathroom with Debbi. He felt numb.

  When Muzza came back out of the bathroom, Jag asked him if anything more had been said.

  “Yeah. Somebody told Debbi they’d seen Jan coming out of your room on Sunday morning.”

  Shock hit him. “Jan their drummer? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

  “I told them it was bollocks.”

  Jag was angry now. “Why would I want to fuck Jan? She looks like an ugly bloke.”

  Muzza laughed. “Yeah, but she’s got huge tits.”

  “I don’t like huge tits! I like small tits, good legs, firm arses and pretty faces. Debbi’s got all of those, so if I was sleeping with her, why would I bother chasing Jan?”

  Muzza shrugged. “That was before you’d slept with Debbi.”

  “I’ve had nothing to do with Jan.” Jag found himself almost pleading, desperate to prove his innocence. “Even if Debbi wasn’t on this tour, I still wouldn’t want to sleep with Jan. I’d rather sleep with you, for fuck sake!”

  “That’s understandable. I’m hot and dirty.” Muzza turned suddenly serious, looking as sincere as he ever got. “Look mate, I told Mindy to tell Debbi it was bollocks. She’ll come round.”

  “It’s Wood, being a sly cunt. He didn’t like me having a go at him the other day.” Jag felt himself steaming at the injustice.

  “Can’t think why. What’s not to like about being told you’re a useless fucking puppet? No, seriously, I asked if it was Wood, and Mindy reckons Debbi wouldn’t have believed him. It must’ve been somebody else. Somebody she trusts.”

  “Why doesn’t she just ask Jan?”

  Muzza shrugged again. “I dunno. I think those two have some sort of history with blokes. I think Debbi might have fucked one of Jan’s boyfriends in the past or something like that.”

  J
ag closed his eyes. “Great. Fucking brilliant.”

  * * *

  The next morning Muzza and Jag were late for the coach. They’d eaten breakfast in the students’ canteen and lost track of time. When they finally boarded the bus, Biff cheered but everyone else was obviously pissed off with them. Muzza gave everyone a wave and blew a kiss to Mindy as he walked past her. Jag could see Debbi sitting just a few rows from the front. She had her head turned to look out of the window. As he passed her seat, he stopped and bent down so he could speak quietly.

  “Debbi, can we talk about whatever you’ve been told? Please?”

  She kept her eyes fixed on something on the other side of the car park and didn’t acknowledge his presence at all.

  Just then the bus started to move so Jag walked toward the back. As he passed Wood’s seat, Jag glared in his direction, but Wood pretended to be absorbed in his copy of NME. Jag dropped into a seat about halfway along the bus and stared out of the window.

  Ten minutes into the journey, Jag saw Debbi stand up and walk a little way down towards his seat. His heart beat faster, but she stopped by the lads from Fresh Scabs. “Nick, can we have a quiet word at the back of the bus?”

  Jag saw the guitarist stand up and follow her. Debbi didn’t look at Jag as she passed him, but Nick gave a shrug that suggested he hadn’t a clue what Debbi wanted to chat about. Jag was determined not to turn and watch their faces to try and work out if he was the subject of their conversation. The bus was far too noisy for him to have any chance of eavesdropping, so rather than torture himself, he just watched the countryside flash past through the window.

  Several minutes later Jag realised someone was standing in the aisle at the side of his seat. He turned and saw Debbi looking down at him. Her eyes were cold and hard. She bent at the waist and brought her face to within a few inches of his. Then she opened her mouth. It took Jag a few moments for his mind to tell him what he was seeing.

  Debbi’s mouth was full of semen.

  Her tongue was flat against the base of her mouth, and the off-white liquid brimmed to the level of her bottom lip.

  After a few seconds she closed her mouth again and made a show of swallowing. Then she spoke. “Now fuck off, and never speak to me again.”

  With that she walked back to her seat. Jag’s stomach was cold. He felt sick. Nick wandered past a few minutes later, too embarrassed to look at Jag, but probably feeling very happy with the way his morning had turned out.

  * * *

  The trip from Leicester to Derby was only thirty miles, and as soon as the coach stopped at the club Debbi disappeared with Kelly and one of the roadies. Mindy waited for Muzza, so Jag headed off for a walk alone. It was a bright warm day and the streets were busy with shoppers. He bought a bottle of cola from a newsagent’s and followed a narrow walkway down the side of some shops, finding that it led to a path that ran alongside a stream. Jag walked for fifteen minutes then sat down on a bench.

  He couldn’t believe what Debbi had done on the coach.

  She must have known Nick fancied her, and she’d used Nick to get at him. He drank his cola and watched some ducks swimming in the stream. A riff came into his head. It was aggressive and punchy; angry music to match his mood. He’d write some very cutting lyrics to go with it. Words flooded his head, line after line.

  I wanted to trust her, I wanted to see

  If somebody else could mean something to me

  She opened her thighs but made me the whore

  She swallowed their lies, and a whole lot more

  As Jag made his way back to the club his mind played with different titles for the song he’d probably never bother writing. Getting Basic with a Bassist. A Flash of Gash. Let it Fester in Leicester. Sound of the Subnormals. This last one made him think of dancing with Debbi just two nights ago, finding that quiet spot behind the stage where they’d fucked like teenagers. He couldn’t believe how quickly everything had disappeared, and felt stupid for feeling the way he did. In reality, Debbi had turned out to be little more than Zoe had been — a fleeting sex partner. He was annoyed at being so upset by the fact they’d only had a brief relationship. As he approached the rear of the club, The Riot’s minibus arrived. The guys from the other band waved as they made their way into the club, and another title came to him: In the Shadow of The Riot.

  * * *

  The audience in Derby was excellent, and Frenzy was the last band on before the main act. Jag had stayed in the dressing room while Fresh Scabs and Gash had done their sets. He didn’t particularly want to see Nick, and he’d decided it would be easier all round if he didn’t have to see Debbi again. She’d made it as obvious as she could that what they’d shared was well and truly over.

  Jag concentrated hard during their set, and he knew everything he played was perfect. He added a few extra licks and all the other band members seemed to notice it, upping their own performances. Wood was at his best, belting out the lyrics of Wanted Man like stabbing blows as he bent forward over the edge of the stage, glaring at the crowd. Muzza and Biff never missed a beat, and Jag’s Telecaster was a perfect mix of power chords to drive the song and intricate fills to make them interesting. When Jag and Muzza stepped up to their mics to add backing vocals, there seemed to be a strange type of aggression about it all, and the crowd really got into every song. When they left the stage, the crowd kept cheering and stamping their feet until they came back on and played an encore.

  Jag took a taxi back to the hotel straight after their set, not even bothering to get changed. Once in his hotel room, he took a shower and went to bed. He fell fast asleep within minutes. This could have been because he’d hardly slept the previous night, or perhaps because he’d drunk a half-bottle of rum during the taxi ride.

  * * *

  Muzza and Mindy stood near the side of the bar as the bouncers cleared the club of the last few stragglers. Debbi had been on the other side of the room with the two roadies, but when the guys went to pack up the gear she made her way over towards them. Muzza ordered himself and Mindy another drink, and then raised his eyebrows to Debbi. She smiled and asked for a Bacardi and coke. Muzza ordered her a triple. They all went and sat at a table near the open doors, where the air was cooler and smelt less of stale alcohol and sweaty bodies.

  “I know nothing I can say will change anything,” Muzza said to Debbi. “But I need to understand what’s happened. You two seemed to be so right for each other.”

  Debbi smiled, but there was little humour in her expression. “Yeah, well. Shit happens all the time.”

  Muzza watched her, but didn’t say anything else.

  Eventually, Debbi cleared her throat. “I used to see a guy. We were together for almost two years, and I thought we were so right for each other as well. But he obviously didn’t feel the same way because it turned out he was fucking other women behind my back for almost the whole time we were together.” She took a long drink and gave another humourless smile. “I must be a fucking lousy shag.”

  Muzza didn’t comment on that, although his mind ran through how well her body moved with the beat when she played the bass. “What makes you think Jag did the same?”

  “When I was back in Liverpool, he fucked Jan.” Debbi looked at Mindy for support, but none was forthcoming. “John told me about it.”

  Muzza was puzzled. “Who’s John?”

  “One of our roadies. They were in the next room to us in the hotel, and he said he’d had to listen to you pair grunting and groaning all Saturday night.”

  Mindy rubbed Muzza’s thigh. “He’s such an animal.”

  Debbi ignored her. “John said he didn’t get any bloody sleep until you’d finally shagged each other to death, and so the following morning he was late for breakfast. As he made his way towards the dining room, he literally bumped into Jan as she came out of yours and Jag’s room. She was embarrassed about him seeing her, and he said she’d definitely got the post-sex look, and John should know – he went out with her for ages.”r />
  Muzza shook his head briskly. “I don’t believe it.”

  Debbi shrugged. “He didn’t make a big thing about it. He just said he thought I should know. He’s nothing to gain, he’s just a mate. But he’d heard about Jag’s bet to fuck us all, as well. Wouldn’t be the first time you lads played around, would it? I know what Ellen O’Ride was all about.”

  “There was no bet. That part was probably Wood getting his revenge 'cos Jag called him a ‘fucking puppet’.” Muzza thought for a minute. “Why didn’t this John tell you about Jan before you and Jag got together?”

  Debbi shrugged. “It didn’t matter then.”