Silk

by Heidi McLaughlin

  I left the show and climbed on my Harley. I spent so much time playing music these days I didn’t get to ride it much, and after the encounter with Eli, I needed to feel the wind ripping against my skin. Blood was still rushing through my veins so fast I could hear it echoing in my ears and see it pulsing behind my eyes.

  Kirk Savage was a rock god, no shit, he really was. The term gets thrown around a lot by lame assholes that wouldn’t know the difference between a Jimi Hendrix riff and the shit played on top-40 radio, but in the case of Kirk Savage, it’s the God’s honest truth.

  Thanks to Eli, I’d been able to meet him not long before he died. I wondered if she remembered that night, or if I was just a fleeting echo that melted together with all the other fans she’d met in her life. Now, I found her again, and given the chance, I was going to figure out a way to repay her for the life she’d given me. No matter what I had to do, I wasn’t going to let her go so easily this time. And that’s when my heart made up its mind; when the door slammed shut on any escape for me—I’d never be able to cut her loose now, she was going to be mine.

  Chapter Three

  Deacon

  Not a single day goes by I’m not haunted by the first time I laid eyes on her, so many years ago. Sweet, innocent—everything I’d never been allowed to be. It was merely a fleeting moment in her life, but it was the night that forever changed me.

  I was seventeen, she was twelve. But you’d never have guessed that by looking at her, the only telling sign was that I could have used the top of her head for an armrest, she was so freaking short. Long hair, bright green eyes, wearing a ratty t-shirt with her father’s face covering the front—at the time I didn’t have a clue she was his daughter.

  I was at a concert, hoping to sneak backstage to meet Kirk Savage, a man I’d idolized since spending years living in a home with a drugged out foster parent that lived and breathed him. Kirk was everything my foster dad wasn’t, I stopped looking to the fatass lounging on the couch for guidance, and turned, instead, to a man that seemed to have it all—including a kick ass blue guitar.

  Dodging every overgrown security guard I came across, I finally made it backstage, but got lost in the winding halls that didn’t seem to lead anywhere –I figured the damn event centers were probably built this way on purpose. I was just about to say fuck it and head home when I heard the familiar click then whoosh of a zippo lighter. I peeked behind a black curtain and saw her perched on top of some old stage equipment opening, striking, then closing the lighter.

  She glanced up at me, but didn’t seem fazed by my presence at all.

  “Hey, you know your way around back here?” I asked her.

  She didn’t speak, she just nodded.

  “Can you tell me where Kirk Savage’s dressing room is?” I asked, a little embarrassed at how desperate I sounded.

  “Maybe.” She said like I’d just forced her into the most boring conversation she’d ever had, “But even if I do, you’d never get in without my help.”

  “Your help? And how will you help me?” I was definitely skeptical.

  “I just will.” She countered.

  “Then get me in, if you think you can.”

  She looked at me, stood from her perch, and walked toward me. “What will you give me if I do?”

  I laughed, “Stop playing games; can you, or not?”

  “I can, doesn’t mean I will, though.” She was teasing me and trying to play me at the same time, but I had one mission in mind and if she’d help me accomplish it I’d willingly give her anything.

  “Just tell me what you want from me in return.”

  “You have to keep me company for the next few hours, then I’ll take you to him. It’s so boring back here I’m about to lose my mind.” She said and her eyes lit up.

  “What if he leaves before then?”

  “He won’t.” She said, sure of herself, but I didn’t know if I could trust her.

  “C’mon,” she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me down one long dingy hallway to the next, and then to the next, until I didn’t have a freaking clue if I was still in the same building, or not. The further we traveled, the more people appeared, which I took as a decent sign we were headed in the right direction. We finally reached a section of the hallway that was filled to the brim with half naked women I assumed were just itching to meet Kirk.

  She stopped, leaning against the wall across from a group of very eager women. Pulling out a baseball cap she had folded in her back pocket, she stuck it on her head and pulled it low.

  “Now, we wait,” she whispered to me.

  I looked at her and felt my eyebrows pull together in confusion. She smiled and laughed lightly.

  “Stop,” she said, running her hand across my forehead to wipe the lines away. “Just wait, I promise.”

  And that’s what we did, stood and waited. But what we were waiting for, I had no idea. I figured I was closer to Kirk than I had been, so I was willing to be patient.

  “Which one’s the prettiest?” She asked, tilting her head to the group of women across the hall.

  “What? No way, not playing that game.” I laughed.

  “C’mon, which one? I gotta know who to dress like when I fill out in all those womanly places.” She elbowed me, laughing.

  “None of ‘em, don’t dress like any of them…ever.” I shook my head. “Make ‘em work to see that much skin.”

  She nodded sincerely, and we both laughed loudly. The group of women we’d been talking about turned to us and scowled, which only made us laugh louder.

  From that moment on we just kept talking, about everything from the weather to our favorite food as the crowd gradually grew sparse, yet I still didn’t have clue who she was. I started humming a song I’d just started writing. I wasn’t a very good writer, yet, but I knew I’d get the hang of it before long. I could write the lyrics easily, it was putting the right words together with the notes and melody I struggled with. I hummed softly and after a few minutes she joined in with me. We went from humming my song to singing some of Kirk’s—loudly.

  Hours passed and we’d sung all the songs we could think of when Kirk finally appeared down the hall surrounded by several men. The half-dressed skanks were still flanking the hall, but he didn’t even give them a glance—his eyes were locked on the girl standing next to me, and a huge smile was on his face. Every girl within twenty feet started fawning over him, and screaming for his attention, but he didn’t give them anything. One of the men opened the door and Kirk gestured for the girl next to me to enter. She wrapped her soft hand around mine and pulled me into the room with her.

  “You guys go back there while I finish this up, okay?” Kirk called, but she was already pulling me toward a small room off to the left that had a long table in the center.

  “So I got you in, didn’t I?” She smirked at me.

  “Uh yeah, you did.” I said, astonished, “And how’d you do that? Who are you?”

  “I’m no one, just lucky that’s all.” She smiled and hopped on the table and began swinging her feet back and forth. “So why do you want to meet him so bad anyway?”

  “I’m a fan.” I shrugged. “His song was the first song I ever learned to play. I just want to meet him that’s all.”

  “Ahh, a guitar player. I shoulda guessed.”

  “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, maybe a little too sharply.

  “Nothing, usually guys don’t sneak backstage to meet him. Only the girls wearing clothes two sizes too small do that—which is totally disgusting because I’m old enough to know what they want. But whatever,” She paused to roll her eyes and take a deep breath. “If a guy goes to that much trouble he usually wants a piece of the action, or a shot at fame.”

  “Are you always backstage?”

  “Yup, always,” she shrugged. “Remember, lucky.” She pointed to herself.

  “Who are you?” I asked again, but she just smiled at me.

  “What song?”
r />   “What?” I asked.

  “What song of his did you learn?”

  “Fallen.” I admitted.

  “That’s what I figured.” She said with a smirk.

  “Princess?” A man shouted down the hall.

  “Coming.” She yelled back then whispered, “That’s us.”

  She wrapped her hand around mine again, and led us back to the room just off the door we’d come in. I’ll never forget the sight of Kirk, lounging on the couch with his guitar in hand—THE guitar, the one I wanted to own someday. I’d dreamed of meeting him for…well, since forever, and couldn’t believe this girl had finally been able to make it happen.

  “Hey baby girl, get your skinny butt over here and lay one on me.” Kirk said with a huge grin.

  She did as she was told then pointed to me, “This is a big fan of yours, daddy, he’s a musician, too.”

  Daddy? Daddy? I felt my throat closing as the realization of who this girl was settled over me. I’d just been hanging out with Kirk Savage’s daughter.

  His eyes went from being soft and loving to shooting daggers at me. “Is that so? And you met this boy where exactly?” Even I could tell his gruff tone was that of an overprotective father, and he was about two seconds away from giving me a swift kick in the ass, straight out the door.

  “Stop it, daddy, he’s nice, and I wanna hear him play.”

  My head jerked to her as my mouth went dry. No fucking way was I playing in front of Kirk-motherfucking-Savage—no matter how much I wanted to impress him, not going to happen.

  “Hmm, you wanna hear him play?” He asked then shrugged. “Sure, why not? I’m done anyway.”

  She squealed, and they both looked back at me.

  “Umm, I, uh…” I stuttered because my whole body had gone numb, including my brain.

  “C’mon,” she pulled me toward Kirk who was holding his guitar out to me—it wasn’t his blue guitar, the one I’d dreamed about, but still it was a guitar he’d touched—played—and that was enough, “Play that song you were humming in the hallway, I liked it a lot.”

  I walked toward Kirk, hesitantly reached out for the guitar, and saw tremors running along my hand—I prayed he didn’t. Looking back to her before I dared touch it, I saw her face covered with confidence. She seemed to have more belief in me after hearing me do a hallway sing along, than anyone else I’d ever met. That made me want to wrap her up, throw her over my shoulder, and never let her go.

  Kirk wiggled his guitar back and forth, waiting for me to finally accept it. When my hand touched his guitar I almost pissed myself. I actually hate to admit that because no matter how talented, he was still just a man—flesh and blood like I was. But I’d idolized him since the moment I first heard him strum a single note, and that stays with a man, no matter how hard he tries to be on the outside.

  I finally started to strum the guitar, but my fingers felt off and too big for the strings. Looking at Kirk, I saw genuine interest, not the eyes of a man just listening to please his daughter. I breathed in, pulling in as much air as my lungs could hold, until I finally felt the adrenaline course through my veins. Then I played. And I was good. Way too fucking good to be so young. Talent was never an issue for me, and I knew it.

  The music flowed from every pore as the nervousness faded into the calmness that always took over any time I played. Its power came from my fingertips, and as they stroked the strings, the calm quickly spread through my body until nothing else remained—just my euphoria and my music. It was more addicting than anything else I’d ever tried—women, alcohol, drugs—I tried a lot of things, and nothing touched the music.

  Kirk’s face lit up with surprise after I played the first few bars. By the end, he’d pulled out another guitar and was playing right along with me. On our third song, a guy about my age came into the room. His eyes locked on the girl sitting next to me and never diverted until the song was over.

  “You ready to go?” He asked her then turned toward Kirk. “Dad’s waiting for you on the bus.”

  “Hey, Shaw, I wondered where you went when you ran away from me.” She jumped up and scurried to the guy’s side. “I’m all set.”

  When the two of them reached the door, she stopped and gave me a small wave before disappearing through it.

  “Great job, young man, you really are pretty damn good. Keep it up and you’ll be playing here one day.” Kirk said and patted me on the back.

  It was the best fucking night of my entire life. It was also the night I decided to stop living the life of a delinquent foster kid and focus on music—and I owed it all to this girl.

  Chapter Four

  Eli Blue

  The sound of my phone blaring woke me from a dead sleep. I looked at the screen and saw a picture of the evil stepmother from Cinderella. That was my way of referring to my mother; she was everything the evil stepmother dreamed of being and more—conniving, mean, hurtful, a user. She only contacted me when she wanted something, usually money, but I’d just given her plenty last week, so surely she couldn’t have blown through it already. I hit ignore and tossed the phone on my bed next to me. After the sound stopped, I became aware of a heavy leg draped across my stomach, cutting off all the blood to my lower half. Shaw.

  My phone gave off one last, loud beep letting me know my mother had left a message then immediately started ringing—again. I hit ignore—again.

  Shaw rolled over and ran his hot hands up the side of my body then wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close. I felt his morning glory digging into my stomach and his wet tongue gliding across my ear. Placing my hands on his chest, I pushed back so my head was free from his warm breath.

  “I don’t remember falling asleep with you in my bed last night.” I informed him, as my voice cracked with sleep.

  He easily moved closer to me, as if the force of my arms pressing against his chest was nothing but a nuisance.

  “Baby, I miss you.” He ran his lips across my cheek, stopping just as he reached my mouth to hover, waiting for my permission.

  Shaw was the first friend I ever had—his dad, Dave, and my dad were best friends, band mates. Our relationship had always been different; we’d gone from best friends, to lovers talking about marriage, and back to casual sex while he tried to worm his way back into my heart.

  Shaw had been my first everything –crush, best friend, real kiss, sex, heartbreak. We’d been through it all together, and even when he was breaking my heart, I couldn’t stop loving him. He’d been there for me through every trying time I’d ever experienced, and he always kept me from completely falling apart. I loved every inch of him, even the insecure parts that turned him into a complete asshole. All things sexual and romantic had stopped between us a few months ago, and I had no intentions of them starting back, no matter how good his body felt pressed against mine.

  “Shaw, please stop. I can’t do this anymore, the on-again, off-again sex isn’t right—it has to stop.” I said, trying to push him away again, but he refused to move.

  “Sweetheart, don’t do this. I told you, I miss you.”

  “Yeah, I heard you. But you know that doesn’t mean much to me anymore. If you’re looking for a piece of ass, you picked the wrong bed to sneak into tonight.”

  He pulled me tighter, leaning his forehead on mine.

  “I don’t want some piece of ass, I want you, Elizabeth. I miss your beautiful face, your scent, your taste.” He inhaled deeply, “Damn, I know I fucked up, I just don’t know what I’ve got to do to fix it.”

  I closed my eyes and tried to stop the wetness from gathering in them. No matter how much I hated it, thoughts of taking him back had been tempting, but my mind always stopped my heart before I ever settled on that decision.

  “Nothing, you can’t do anything. It’s done, and we can’t go back.”

  “Yes, we can.” He said harshly, “We can, you just have to let us.”

  “Please, Shaw, it’s the middle of the night, don’t do this now. Just go, and
we’ll talk about it later.”

  “I love you, and no matter how long you push me away, I’m not going anywhere, I’ll always be here.” He said as his arms loosened around my waist and his body disappeared from mine—immediately I felt empty.

  I couldn’t see his dark eyes in the shadows of my room; they had always pierced my soul and knocked down my defenses, but not this time. Instead, glowing blue eyes that belonged to a man I barely knew were still burned into my brain.

  Shaw had been battling for forgiveness since I’d caught him with a bleach blonde bimbo months ago. It was at an annual beach party his dad threw every year. A groupie far too young for Dave had been following him around for weeks, until she laid eyes on Shaw, and her desires instantly changed—if you can’t bag the famous dad, why not go after the handsome son instead. From the moment Shaw caught a whiff of her bullshit he’d practically been humping her leg. But I couldn’t blame him; things between us hadn’t been good in a long time. We loved each other, I’d never questioned that, but the love we had for each other wasn’t the kind of love a person lived for and was willing to die for. I just hadn’t convinced Shaw of that.

  I’m not sure if I truly thought he’d never stray, or if I just simply didn’t care, but I hid in the spare guest room at the beach house, wanting to escape the whole party—even Shaw. I fell asleep, not for one second considering my boyfriend, whom I did truly love, was in the other part of the house with a woman throwing herself at him.

  The next morning I went to Shaw’s room and knew something was wrong the second I opened the door. There were pillows and clothes thrown everywhere. I crept closer to the bed and saw a red thong lying on top of the shirt I’d bought Shaw for his birthday.