Come Undone Page 2

  ‘Weren’t you listening?’ God, it hurt his throat to speak. ‘The band’s done.’

  Steve stroked his hand over his chin and his devilish goatee. ‘I didn’t think you actually meant it.’

  ‘We’re done.’ Xane repeated to emphasise the point.

  Steve crossed his arms over his chest. ‘What would you have us do, Xane? I love her. You know I do. Was I supposed to turn her down?’

  Xane’s eyes narrowed. The sting in his nose had become almost intolerable. It made him physically ill to look at this man who had been his closest friend for years. ‘Did you think for a second how I’d feel?’

  Steve stretched out his arm, but Xane stepped back out of reach to avoid the contact, leaving his former friend shaking his head.

  ‘I’m sorry it’s happened this way. I really am. It’s not how I wanted it. I thought we were good, Xane. I thought you understood. I hope when you’ve calmed down we can –’

  ‘Fuck off!’ Xane snarled, tightening his fists. ‘Seriously, just eff off, before I give in to what I’d like to do and wring your bloody neck.’

  Chapter 3

  Not only was Ginny’s plan the source of everything stupid, it was moronic too. Missing the show on the vague off-chance that they might meet the band sucked big time. Dani wanted to be in with the crowd, singing along with Xane’s growling vocals as Spook Mortenson went batshit on guitar. That guy could work magic on a fretboard. His textures, the way he injected primal desire into the heavy choruses from their Beyond the Lich Gate album, set vibrations running through her nerves as though it were her he was playing.

  ‘Can’t we just hit their hotel bar, post show?’ she whined.

  They’d managed to slip into the backstage area, although bits of it looked more like a coffee shop, thanks to the leather tub chairs and cute round tables. But there’d not been so much as a sniff of testosterone, unless you counted the odd besuited member of the venue staff.

  ‘Know where they’re staying, do you?’ Ginny asked, planting a hand firmly on her hip.

  Dani sighed at her toes. ‘Actually, I heard it was the Whyteleaf.’ The landmark family-run hotel had recently undergone an extensive refurbishment, having been purchased by a global conglomerate. What’s more, their PR man had clearly decided that having a rock band, even an extreme metal group, constituted a major scoop for business. Black Halo’s image had been splashed across all their recent advertising.

  Ginny vetoed the possibility with a slash of her hand. ‘Everyone will be there. We’ll not get close.’

  They didn’t seem to be getting very close anyway. ‘Ginny, are you even sure this is the right place? These rooms look like offices.’

  ‘What do you expect a dressing room to look like?’

  ‘I don’t know, stars on the doors?’ She’d never been backstage anywhere before, unless you counted performing in the school nativity play. She’d assumed it’d be full of bustling activity, whereas their current surroundings were too quiet. Only the odd vibration through the floor hinted that there was a band on the premises.

  They turned yet another corner and into a broad corridor, down which there were at least a dozen doors. ‘Like these, you mean?’ Ginny crowed.

  There weren’t actually stars on the doors, but there were card slots. Godwatch, Dying Pain … Ginny read them out, her voice growing louder, until she shrieked, ‘Black Halo. Yes!’ She punched the air. ‘Dani, we’re in.’

  Ginny barged straight into the room. Dani followed on the balls of her feet, expecting to be challenged. Inside, dressing tables lit with hundreds of bulbs lined one wall of a roughly boot-shaped room. They’d entered at the leg end, a tight space dominated by rails full of leather coats. Where the room widened, twin squashy sofas sat either side of a coffee table littered with beer cans and half-empty bottles of spring water. A purple electric guitar lay in the centre of one sofa, and a huge display of lilies on its counterpart. The smell of flowers permeated the room, almost but not quite masking the waxy odour of white foundation, hairspray and half a dozen different deodorants.

  ‘Seriously, they make them all squish into one room?’ Dani had anticipated a dressing room each. Surely by the time you hit Black Halo’s level of success you were guaranteed a little privacy? ‘So, now what?’

  Ginny moved the lilies onto the table alongside someone’s laptop and a stack of chocolate. Then she stretched out on that sofa. ‘We chill, silly.’

  Dani flicked a glance at the clock on her phone. She had no intention of lounging around in the dressing room with Ginny for the next hour, missing all the thrill of the show. She’d bought a ticket so that she could chant along with the rest of the crowd, not to camp out in a glorified closet. ‘I’m going to go watch,’ she insisted.

  ‘Suit yourself.’ Ginny rolled her eyes upwards, then crossed her arms and snuggled against the leather. ‘Suppose you’d better take this, then, just so that you can get back in. And don’t lose it. I need to frame that baby later.’

  Dani caught the laminated pass and slipped the lanyard around her neck, still half hoping Ginny would come with her. When it became apparent she wouldn’t, Dani headed for the door.

  ‘Hey, Saint,’ Ginny called. Dani turned to see her helping herself to a bar of chocolate. ‘Are you actually going to come back or shall I see you at the hotel?’

  ‘Um,’ Dani replied, her hand on the door knob. She worried her lower lip with her teeth. Sure, she wanted to meet the band, but not through subterfuge. Ginny’s method also required her to be somebody she wasn’t, and entailed expectations that made her uneasy. Dani didn’t put out for a guy on a first date – and she was applying the term ‘date’ very loosely in this situation. That rule didn’t change even if the guy in question was a rock star, and somehow she didn’t think any of the band members would be interested in a chat over coffee. Before she let a man between her legs, he had to prove he cared about her. She couldn’t be like Ginny, who never seemed to worry about pregnancy or disease or any other complication. Ginny didn’t need trust to get naked, only the most basic of excuses.

  Dani preferred not to take all her clothes off – ever. She routinely showered with her eyes tight closed, and, if it’d been practical to leave her underwear on, would have done so. The thought of allowing a stranger to get frisky with her, especially while his mates were hanging about close enough to hear, if not see, them, made her nauseous, not horny.

  ‘It’s OK, Saint. I can be woman enough for them all if you’re not game.’

  ‘Well …’

  ‘Really. It’s fine. I’ll see you at the hotel.’

  ‘How?’ Dani asked. They’d driven to the stadium together.

  Ginny laughed at her. ‘Duh, I’ll call a cab. You know, the black things with wheels on the corners that ferry people about. And don’t feel you need to wait up.’

  ‘All right,’ she agreed dubiously, not entirely happy about the idea of leaving Ginny to make her way alone. And she would wait up, same as she always did when Ginny stayed out late, just to make sure she actually got home.

  ‘Use the pass if you change your mind about scoring yourself some hot man-flesh.’

  Dani left her and began retracing their steps. Naturally, she did wonder if she’d made the right decision. She did desperately want to meet Xane, and it would definitely be safer if she and Ginny stuck together, but … hell, Xane probably wouldn’t want anything to do with her anyway, especially when she wasn’t prepared to put out, and she didn’t think she could stomach that sort of rejection. Also, she didn’t want to see Ginny getting frisky with him. That’d make her puke.

  Better that she stuck to seeing the gig. As it was, she was going to have to concoct a story for her mum about what she’d been up to tonight. She might have escaped the commune, but the sisterhood were still paying her university fees, and they liked to keep close tabs on her to ensure she was still upholding the precepts of the order.

  Attending rock concerts, especially Black Halo gigs, definitel
y wasn’t on the list of acceptable activities. Black Halo epitomised just about everything the sisterhood despised most. If they found out she’d been here, they’d probably cut her off. Or, worse, drag her back to the commune to live amongst them again.

  Dani paused, realising she’d taken a wrong turn in the maze of backstage corridors. Ahead, rather than the entrance hall, were crates of equipment. Several beefy guys – roadies, she guessed – were lounging around swigging tinnies. One or two were entertaining a huddle of scantily dressed rock chicks.

  Ginny would have blended right in, but even decked out in Ginny’s goth gear Dani knew she’d give off the wrong vibes. Better she kept her distance than embarrassed herself by asking for directions.

  Only one guy even shot a glance in her direction. His interest died away the moment he focused on her chest.

  She’d have felt hurt, if she hadn’t realised he’d clocked her pass. It was white, while the ones the girls were wearing were all pink.

  Having decided that she must be quite close to the stage now, Dani continued onwards. Only where was the thumping bass? Even through the walls she ought to have been able to hear that by now, if not feel the vibrations pummelling her chest. Instead, only a low-level hum of voices reached her from ahead.

  Another few paces on, and she stopped to perform a double take. Hang on … wasn’t that Ash Gore, the Black Halo lead guitarist, lounging against the stacks? Why wasn’t he on stage with the rest of the band?

  Unless he had an identical twin brother?

  Nah – it would have cropped up in interviews. Stuff like that gave the fan girls wet dreams. Nor did it account for the thick rim of kohl around his eyes or his crazy metal-head hair. Or, indeed, why Rock Giant hunched beside him on top of a busted amp.

  ‘Oof!’

  Dani came to an unceremonious halt, metal claws digging into her shoulder. She put out a hand for balance, only for it to meet leather – soft, supple, leather – and then hard muscle. Equally quickly, she jerked away.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Just look where you’re going?’

  She was. Leastways, now she was. Staring in gobsmacked disbelief, in fact. Her attention fixed upon his lamp-like cat’s eyes.

  Xane. She’d walked right into Xane Geist without even seeing him. And … and … wow.

  Her heart gave a fluttery drum roll, while her knees threatened to buckle.

  Xane had always been her favourite. As the face of the group, he’d always drawn the bulk of the fans’ attention, but he was also the acknowledged genius behind their success. Up close, the magnetism that wowed audiences snagged her in the midriff and yanked her into closer proximity. He was … She had to touch her lips to ensure she wasn’t drooling. He was perfect.

  Inky black hair framed his narrow face, and the ends reached midway down his chest. A spiked collar encircled his neck. Dani curled her fingers. The memory of his heat still warmed their tips. His cheekbones were shaved as if from pure marble; his nose a slender blade, above which his black eyebrows were furrowed. His crooked, kissable lips were drawn into a tight scowl that was further emphasised by the silver hoop piercing the centre of his bottom lip.

  Two further hoops pierced his right eyebrow.

  Beneath his leather jacket, he was dressed in a combination of rags and more form-fitting black leather. When she’d touched him, she’d hit a spot where his T-shirt was ripped away to show a painted-on version of his exposed ribs.

  Dani’s lips parted in a gasp. For the first time in her life, she understood what it meant to melt, too feel so drawn to another human being that she lost control of even the most basic functions. All at once she was too jittery and hot; molten with arousal and terrified and ashamed too.

  Oh, man – he smelled fab too, of good old-fashioned body scent, liberally mixed with a spritz of something expensive for men. Now it made sense why women like Ginny went to such effort to meet him, and why they were prepared to throw their morals to the wind and romp like wild things with a total stranger.

  She could even picture herself sprawled across some hotel bed with him, having crazy sex.

  ‘Are you all right? Lost?’ He sounded pissed off, something his brittle smile corroborated. Yet Dani’s brain only processed the fact that his speaking voice was much softer than she’d anticipated, and lacked any hint of his trademark growl.

  Realising she was still gaping at him, she took a moment to close her mouth. She wasn’t lost, just dazzled.

  The painful bite of Xane’s claw rings restored her sanity. She coughed and straightened herself.

  Xane kept his hand on her shoulder. ‘Sally?’ he said, as he lifted the backstage pass to read her name. Even hidden by opaque contact lenses, his eyes were still shrewdly intelligent as he gave her face and body a quick, appreciative sweep. ‘Were you looking for me?’ His eyebrows arched meaningfully.

  ‘Yes. I mean, no. I was trying to get through to the arena so I could watch the show.’

  They maintained eye contact, because Dani couldn’t wrench her gaze away.

  For a split second Xane’s scowl transformed into a smile. ‘The show’s over, honey. I don’t think you want to go out there.’

  ‘I don’t? Already?’

  He rubbed his thumb across the part of her ID that said PR. ‘I’d stay back here. Safer, until you’ve a statement worked out.’

  A statement! What was she supposed to give a statement about? And how was it she’d managed to miss the entire show? It wasn’t supposed to be over yet. Although now she thought about it, the roadies did appear to be packing up. ‘W–what happened?’ If she’d been an actual PR person she’d have been in full-on flap right about now. The woman whose pass she wore probably was. Ginny ought never to have taken her card.

  Xane shook his head. ‘Sally.’ He snagged hold of the lanyard again, forcing her to meet his gaze. This was it. She was busted. He was going to yell for security and have her unceremoniously dumped out back. ‘Do you drive?’

  ‘A car, you mean?’ Why was this important? ‘Yes. I drove to the show.’

  His lips quirked up at one corner, forming a rehearsed smile, which nevertheless had her creaming her knickers.

  ‘Good. Then you can get me out of here.’

  Chapter 4

  ‘Xane. Hold up, man.’ Ash stopped him just before he hit the tarmac, by making a starfish impersonation across the exit. His original intention might have been noble – Ash, like Xane, only had one commitment in life and that was the band – but his best intentions went bye-bye as he checked out the girl.

  Hell knows who she really was. For definite she wasn’t Sally Kettering, prize battle-axe and PR fiend extraordinaire. Sally had never looked half so hot. Most of the time she barely looked human, and in her case that primarily wasn’t down to stage make-up. He’d made sure Sally had plenty of work to do tonight, a fact she’d no doubt fry him for later.

  This girl, now – she was exactly the right mix of hot, indecisive and innocent to get Ash completely jacked up. Pretty oval face, with big wide-set brown eyes and a slightly top-heavy figure, coupled with a fearfully delicate smile. Admittedly, pretty much anything that moved and was ostensibly female captured Ash’s interest. The lead guitarist got laid more often than the rest of the group put together, and none of them went short in that respect. The others weren’t quite such bastards about it, though. Ash liked to get his kink on, turn them out and move straight on to the next one. He consumed women in the same way he consumed booze. He’d take whatever was on offer, as long as it went down well.

  The reason Xane insisted on individual hotel suites and his own tour bus wasn’t just because he needed solitude in order to compose. It saved him from being irate at Ash twenty-four seven. Patting Ash’s rejects on the back and seeing them on their way got horribly tedious. Nor did he care for the constant reminder of what his life had once been like. It wasn’t so very long ago that he’d shown similarly indiscriminate tastes. That’d changed in recent times. Having found h
imself a comfortable arrangement, he hadn’t felt the need to wander.

  ‘Hadn’t’ – the word rang in his head like a leper’s bell. He tried to shut down the thought before it doubled him over, but failed miserably. His relationship was in tatters, and what he needed right now was a hell of a lot of something to deaden the pain.

  When the hell would he learn his lesson? Just because someone whispered words of love into your ear after they fucked you didn’t mean they meant it. It didn’t mean you could trust them. People said one thing and then did another all the time. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know that. It just hurt like fuck to accept it.

  Xane kept his fists curled tight. It wasn’t very manly, but curling into a ball and sobbing until he was hoarse really appealed right now. Except he was too damned angry to cry, and he refused to shed a tear over that bastard and bitch.

  Not that it was purely the Steve-and-Elspeth situation riling him. It was the contempt too. The fact that the rest of the band valued him so little they thought it was no big deal for him to be treated like this.

  Well, it was time people started accepting that their actions had repercussions. If you pissed on the same fire often enough it went out. And right now he felt thoroughly pissed on.

  ‘Where you headed?’ Ash enquired nonchalantly, as though there were nothing amiss.

  Xane put his arm around the girl’s shoulders. Beneath her skin, her pulse raced excitedly. She probably thought she’d won herself a grand old prize, when she couldn’t have been more wrong.

  ‘Sally and I are going for a drive.’

  That got him a response. Ash raised both beetle-black brows in disbelief. The girl stiffened too, so much so that Xane almost withdrew his hold. It seemed the idea of getting lewd and crude with him hadn’t actually been front and centre in her thoughts. She looked up at him in stunned disbelief.

  ‘Really?’ Ash raked his gaze over the girl’s body from her tits to the hem of her very short skirt. ‘I know I’m always on at you to branch out more, but is now really the best time? Shouldn’t you be hashing it out with them?’