Dare (The Dare Trilogy)

by Sara Frost

  “Very nice,” Janey said appreciatively. “Just like old times when the two of us were on the pull. Well, except that you’re not on the pull, obviously. And I guess I’m not either.” Janey gave a sigh, unconsciously fiddling with the buttons of her blouse which, until that moment, she had left half unbuttoned to display a generous amount of cleavage.

  “There’s nothing wrong is there?”

  Janey chewed her lip. “Just the teeniest bit of jealousy last night from James. Only to be expected, I suppose. It’s not like with you and Cam between me and my boys. It’s just a bit of fun and we know—well, I know, that it can’t last.” She shrugged. “Anyway, enough of that. Let’s go and enjoy the day.”

  And enjoy it they did.

  The day was a good one, though by the time they arrived at Bohemia Dianne was bursting for the loo. Giving Cam only a quick kiss and leaving Janey with her boys, she ran backstage and sat down with relief.

  As she left the bathroom, Dianne jumped slightly after she had taken a few paces down the corridor and a door opened to her right. Her hand leaped to her chest and she took in a deep breath as Darius stood in the doorway. His face was painted white, thick makeup in preparation for the show that would begin in a couple of hours—makeup that looked even more preposterous this close up. He eyed her up and down, arms crossed as he leaned against the door.

  “I’m sorry,” Dianne said. “I didn’t realise you were there.”

  His smile was broad and there was a glint in his eye as he looked at her.

  “One of the perks of being lead singer for the biggest band in the Czech Republic is I get my own dressing room. It helps to have a little peace and quiet before a gig. Want to look inside?”

  Dianne lowered her eyes, hoping he would not recognise her mirth. “That’s okay,” she mumbled. “I’ll leave you in peace.”

  “Hey, where you going so fast, sweetheart?” As she made to walk past him, Darius grabbed hold of her arm.

  “I need to get back to Cam,” she said, pulling at her arm so that he released it. She could smell his cologne which was somewhat overpowering in the narrow confines of the corridor. At the mention of Cam’s name, he scowled slightly but immediately suppressed the grimace.

  “He’s a lucky man,” Darius said instead. “I can see why he’d want you around. Shit, I’m surprised you made it this far, but I could definitely see why he’d want to keep you. Let’s just hope he’s sorted out a visa for you when we get to Russia, eh?”

  “What?” Dianne had been prepared to continue walking away, but this last comment stopped her in her tracks.

  “Oh, didn’t he say? I’m not surprised, really. After all, I’m pretty sure it was my management who dealt with all that, for Black Ark as well. I was going to get some rising young hot shots in Russia, but Johnny insisted on bringing your friend along for the ride as well.”

  “What was that, about a visa?”

  Darius leaned further back into the doorway once more, folding his arms again. His chest was thin, almost sylph like, though his arms while nowhere near as strong as Cam’s still had a kind of sinewy muscle to them.

  “Well, after Poland and a couple of other countries, we’ll be heading to Russia.”

  “I knew that,” Dianne mumbled, feeling stupid and blushing as she averted her eyes from his.

  “Well, no doubt you also knew that you need a visa to get into the country. It takes a long time to arrange—can be expensive too. Oh, no doubt your friend’ll sort that out for you.”

  Dianne suddenly felt crushed. Although that morning she had had doubts as to whether she would be able to continue with Black Ark as they toured Europe, the notion that any options would be closed off to her left her feeling sick and empty inside.

  “I... I guess he will.”

  “Oh, didn’t Cam tell you about that?” She was shocked again to feel a hand on her arm and, looking up, Dianne stared straight into Darius’s eyes. He was only a little taller than her, staring downwards with apparent consideration for her plight.

  “It would be a shame if you couldn’t join us on the rest of the tour,” he said, his voice very calm and quiet. “I could get one of my people to sort it out for you, if you’d like. I’m sure they’d be able to rush it through in time.”

  Dianne was meek, placid. “That would... that would be very kind of you,” she said.

  “Hey, come on.” Darius was all forced jollity now. “Why don’t we go into my dressing room. I’ll find a number for you.”

  Unable to think for a moment, she let him lead her into the room. As she looked around at the tables covered with makeup, food and booze, as well as the posters hastily arranged on the wall—all of Darius so that his face seemed to stare back at her from a dozen directions—she felt her heart beating rapidly. I can’t go, she thought to herself in a rising panic. I can’t leave Cam, not now—not yet!

  Darius was doing something behind her and, as she turned to face him he was placing something in his back pocket, the door shut behind him.

  “Please,” he said generously. “Sit down, have a drink or something while I find that number.”

  “Thank you.” Nervously, she perched on a chair but didn’t take up the offer of a drink. Darius had crossed to a nearby table and was looking through a mobile phone.

  “Ah, yes, here we are. Marcus is my main man back in London. He hates travelling, which is why he isn’t here with us, but he’ll be able to sort you out. Do you have a phone number? I can forward his contact details to you.”

  “Uh, sure.” Still Dianne couldn’t think clearly. Fishing in her bag, she retrieved her mobile and gave the number to Darius who smiled as he dabbed at the screen, his smile very broad now.

  “There, Marcus will sort you out. I’d hate to see you not able to join us in Russia. It would be a real shame.”

  He was standing now, between her and the door, watching her as the message came through. Dianne’s senses, which had been dulled by shock, now started to feel a different type of agitation as he came a little closer, standing above her.

  “Well, thanks,” she said. “I should be going now. I mean, I don’t want to keep you from getting ready.”

  “There’s no need to rush off,” he said, looking down at her, his eyes in shadow as the light blazed behind his head so that she couldn’t see his face clearly. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his fingers pressing lightly into the bare flesh where her crop top met the skin. She wanted to pull away from him, but it seemed rude after his friendly gesture—even if touching her was a little too friendly.

  “Look, I’m really grateful for this,” she said hurriedly, trying to rise. His grip became a little firmer. “I don’t know how I can repay you for it.”

  At this, his smile was almost lupine, his gums showing as he peeled back his lips. “Oh,” he said very quietly. “That’s very easy. You’re really beautiful, Dianne—I mean, look at you. You’re fucking spectacular. It’ll be easy for you to repay me in kind.”

  More angry now than embarrassed, Dianne pushed herself up more forcefully. Darius took a step back, his smile turning into a frown. “Hey, where are you going?”

  “I should be getting back out there. Cam’ll be wondering where I’ve got to.”

  “He can wait!” For a second Darius revealed himself in his anger, but he quickly squashed the emotion. “Look, we got off to a bad start, but there’s no reason why we can’t improve things, especially if you’re going to be spending a lot more time with Optima.”

  “That’ll be great, I’m sure.” Dianne spoke absent-mindedly, all her attention focussed on the door as she crossed over to it. She suddenly felt exposed in her stupid shorts and fishnet tights when she had her back to Darius. She cursed herself for deciding to wear these today. She had made it to the door and, with some relief, placed her fingers on the handle to turn it.

  It was locked.

  For a second, the panic rose in her again. When she turned around, Darius was smiling again, but now there was n
othing warm or welcoming about his looks.

  “Could you open this, please?” Her voice was trembling despite her best intentions.

  Darius shook his head.

  “No can do. One good turn deserves another, don’t you think?”

  “What do you mean? I can’t stay here. The others will be looking for me, for you—Elizabeth...” Her voice trailed away.

  He shrugged, crossing to a table and pouring himself a shot of bourbon. “What the fuck do I care about what Elizabeth thinks? Easy come, easy go, eh? In any case, no-one’ll be looking for me—for either of us—for an hour yet.” He knocked the drink back in one gulp.

  “So, what do you say?” He was crossing to her now, and Dianne turned to face the door once more, yanking hard at the handle. The door, however, would not budge.

  “You didn’t answer my question.” A hand appeared on the wood beside her face, then another on the opposite side. “Show me a favour, and I’ll be good to you. You scratch my back, and I’ll definitely scratch something of yours.”

  Heart beating rapidly, Dianne turned to face Darius whose face was close to hers now, barely inches away. “Please, Darius. You don’t mean this. Let me go, and I’ll forget all about it.”

  He frowned at this, apparently genuinely confused. “What? You mean you... you mean you don’t actually want it? I thought all this playing hard to get was just your game—and I get it, sweetheart, really I do. Come on, baby, one little blow job won’t hurt.” He bent his head to kiss her neck.

  For a moment, Dianne was frozen in panic as his lips came into contact with her skin. Then instinct surged through her and she brought her knees up hard between his legs. With a yell, Darius half-collapsed, staggering away from her.

  Spinning back to the door, she pulled on the handle again and, when it still refused to budge, she slapped and thumped the wood. “Hello! Can anyone hear me! Hello! I’m trapped in here. Help!”

  She was grabbed from behind and turned rapidly—a hand coming across her face and slapping her so hard that, for a second, she saw white lights flashing in front of her eyes.

  “You fucking bitch! How fucking dare you!”

  Darius grabbed her with both hands. Still stunned, Dianne could not move for a second but looked fully into his face. Spittle was beginning to fleck his painted lips.

  “You fucking come in here dressed like some... some cheap whore, and you dare do that to me! Fuck you, you nasty little cunt! You’re only here because I allow it. All of them, including that fucking friend of yours, are only here because I say so.”

  The look in Darius’s eyes was ferocious now, and with a gasp of horror Dianne saw that he was becoming stiff in his leather trousers.

  “Please, Darius,” she pleaded. “I’m sorry. Just let me go, and we’ll forget all about it.”

  “Like fuck we will!” Without warning he hit her again, this time a punch to the side of her head. Once more she was stunned but, as he grabbed hold of her arm she raked across his face with her nails.

  “Bitch!” he yelled. “You fucking whore! I’m gonna fucking have your ass for that!”

  He was surprisingly strong and Dianne was still woozy from the punch, so that when he threw her against a table she fell against it hard, once more hitting her head. Almost immediately his hands were upon her, yanking at her shorts, dragging them and her tights down so that she felt cool air against her buttocks.

  “No!” she screamed. As she attempted to turn around, Darius grabbed her arm, twisting it behind her so painfully that she cried out. “Stop it!” she screamed again as she was rammed down on the table. “Please!”

  She could feel Darius fumbling behind her and she kicked out, lashing with her legs, but he pushed her arm even further up her back so that it felt as though it was going to be pulled from its socket.

  Suddenly there was banging on the door. “Dianne!” she heard a familiar, muffled voice call out. “Are you okay?”

  “Don’t say a fucking word, bitch,” Darius hissed, leaning over her and clamping a hand across her mouth. She struggled for a moment, trying to call out, then when no sound emerged bit down on a finger as hard as she could. He staggered back with a howl. “Bitch, fucking bitch!” he cursed. His trousers were half undone and flecks of blood stained his shirt from where he had shaken his finger.

  “Cam!” she yelled at the top of her voice. “Please! Help me!”

  “Don’t you fucking dare!” Darius shouted, once more coming forward to grapple with her. Resisting as furiously as she could, Dianne began to scream again.

  There was a terrible crash against the door which caused it to shake, then another. With the third blow the frame shuddered open, the lock crashing to the floor and Cam half fell into the room. For a few seconds he was confused but his intelligent eyes quickly surveyed the scene, seeing Dianne, her shorts half-pulled down, struggling with Darius who looked in terror at Cam as he quickly let go of the woman.

  “This fucking bitch,” he said quickly, his eyes full of terror. “She came in here begging for it. She said -”

  He never finished his sentence. Cam pulled back a thick, powerful arm and flung a punch at the shorter man, sending him spinning across the room as blood spurted from Darius’s nose.

  “You bastard!” Cam growled, moving forward to grab hold of Darius by his shoulders, dragging him up so that he hung limply in his hands. “You lousy piece of shit!” Prepared to hit the other man, who was whimpering meekly, his fingers feebly clutching at anything they could grasp, Cam looked across to Dianne who was pulling up her shorts and attempting to get her breath back.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded her head, trembling violently. “Yes... yes, I think so.”

  Cam turned his attention back to Darius. “I should fucking kill you,” he snarled.

  “She started it. Came in here, told me she wanted to stay on the tour with me.” Darius’s eyes were wide with fright, the whites bulging. “She wanted me. It was her fault.”

  With a lightning fast motion, Cam headbutted Darius who immediately collapsed in his arms. His own face was twisted in a rictus of anger and, for a second, Dianne thought he was going to kill the other man. “Cam! Please! Stop!”

  He paused, letting Darius’s now unconscious form dangle from his strong fingers. For a few seconds he seemed to be considering letting his anger flow through him, taking it out on the singer of Optima, his rage against the attempted rape fuelled to white hot fury by weeks of pent up frustration. At last, however, his jaw unclenched and he let Darius fall into an undignified heap on the floor.

  He turned to Dianne, holding her gently in those same fingers. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I think so. Yes.”

  He glanced back at the slumped figure. “Let’s go. I’m taking you back to the hotel.”

  “But... Cam, please. Think for a second. You’ve got to be on stage in an hour. It’s okay... really it is.”

  “Fuck the gig,” he snarled, his anger directed at Darius not her. When he looked back at Dianne, his eyes softened. “This is more important.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  As she stumbled along the corridor, supported by Cam, Dianne could barely see. Her vision was blurred by tears and her head hurt from where she had been hit, causing the walls to spin and tumble away from her. She knew that if Cam hadn’t been beside her, his arms gently holding her up, she would have fallen into a heap.

  Her mind was a chaos of emotions: fear, anger and shame threatened to overwhelm her. She was holding up her shorts with one hand, her tights torn and the buttons missing, while with her other she attempted to cover her bare arms, holding herself protectively. Seeing this, Cam pulled his jacket and placed it over her shoulders.

  “My bag,” she began to say in confusion. “I don’t know... Oh God, I think I left it back there.”

  “Don’t worry,” he replied in a quiet voice. “We need to get you back to the hotel. We’ll sort that out later.”

  As th
ey came to the stairs that led out the back of Bohemia, for a few painful seconds she had no idea how she was going to climb down them and began to cry again, sobbing pitifully. She felt Cam move in front of her, his fingers delicate on her shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said soothingly. “Don’t worry, take your time. We’ll get you home.”

  Home. His words, meant to comfort her, made her even more inconsolable and for a while her sobs became even louder. She could feel her face becoming a mess as tears dribbled down and she tried to wipe them away with a hand. Without saying anything else, Cam pulled her gently to him and she clung to him, feeling his warmth against her.

  Part of her mind felt strangely detached: she knew she was, in some way, being stupid, that standing her blubbing like a baby would do nothing. There was also part of her that wanted to march back to Darius’s changing room and kick the shit out of the pathetic, vile human being that was Gary Johnson. But her body was not hers to control for the moment, and so she could do nothing but weep onto Cam’s chest.

  It did make her feel better, however, and after a while the sobs subsided. When she lifted her head, she could make out another, indistinct form approaching them, a bleary shape that made her heart clench inside her chest with a wave of fear.

  “Di? What’s wrong?”

  Recognising Janey only by her voice, Dianne was torn between a desire to run to her friend, to hug her tightly, and a desire to run away and hide in shame. She turned her face, unable to look at Janey or be seen by her.

  “I’m taking her back to the hotel,” Cam said. “Go back to the others.”

  “Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do? Di? What’s happened?”

  “Please, Janey!” Dianne’s voice was torn from her throat, unwillingly. She forced her tears back down when she saw Janey’s face, pale and concerned. “It’s... okay,” she forced herself to say. “I just... I just need to go back to the hotel for a bit. I’ll tell you... I’ll talk to you later. Please.”