“Dude, you fucking killed it tonight!” Austin says from somewhere behind me.
I lick my lips, greedily taking the offered shot of whiskey. It tastes even better because it’s held out to me from between a pair of double Ds. “Fuck yeah, I did. You like my show tonight, baby?” I say to the tits. Shit, I wish I could remember this one’s name. It seems in bad taste to ask now that she’s not wearing a shirt or her bra. Wait, did she even have a bra?
“Fuck ...” Sean rolls his head from right to left against the back of the couch and then back to right. “I’m so fucked up right now.”
“Should’ve stuck with liquor like me and Austin. Iz will fuck you up, bro.” I’m a little buzzed, my high more the natural euphoria that comes with playing a packed house. But give me another hour and I’ll catch up with these fools. That is, after I spend a little more time with two of my favorite things. “Come sit on my lap, baby. I want those tits in my face.”
Normally, I’m a take the girl back to my room kinda guy, but we already started drinking and I’m feeling pretty damn good and super lazy. The bus is way too far a walk when this couch works perfectly well. Besides, it’s not like Glitter Tits is experiencing any stage fright. No, she’s into it, making eye contact with the rest of the band while I suck her nipples into hard peaks.
“Mmmm...”
The door flies open at my back and Bedo’s angry shouts enter the room, “Get him off the tour. Now. Fire his ass!” Fuck, he can really be a buzzkill, or rather, a boner downer. I won’t be able to keep it up with him shouting manager crap into his phone. “I don’t care who the fuck his father is, or how long he’s been with us. He tried to rape one of my clients! Don’t you get that?”
Yeah, maybe I’ll reconsider and take this one back to the bus. “Up you go,” I say and swat her ass, only she takes it the wrong way and grinds down harder. A little too late, as the word rape alone sobered me right the fuck up.
“Damn it, Bedo.” I stand, reaching out to catch Teeter Tits before she topples over. “What do you need?” I twist to find him taking in the scene.
“You guys really hit it hard, huh? Everyone’s gonna make my life hell tonight, that it?”
“Just blowing off steam. What are you talking about?” I glance at the girl and she’s still standing there without her shirt on like she’s in some kind of goddamn parade. It’s not sexy now that I’m not turned on. In fact, it’s annoying. Did she come here to fuck me or have everyone stare at her rack? “Hey, put a fucking shirt on,” I bark out and she finally moves.
“First the thing with Lexi, now you idiots. You do realize we leave in an hour.”
“What thing with Lexi?” He’s got my full attention and I stalk over to where he’s back to staring at his phone. He ignores me and types frantically onto the screen. “Bedo.” I cover his hands so he’ll meet my gaze. “What’s with Lexi?” The question leaves my mouth in a growl.
“One of our fucking roadies attacked her on their bus. Did you not just hear me?”
I see red. I see fucking red and I don’t stick around to chit chat with Bedo. My vision is tunneled and I stomp out of the dressing room and toward the exit. Security catches up to me and I can hear them asking me to slow down, to wait for the rest of the band, to let them make sure my path is secure, but the words don’t process ... Or rather, I don’t give a fuck.Lexi is hurt. That’s the only thought racing through my mind while I hurry to the buses.
Guilt.I should have done something, been there, stopped this. My anger fuels every step. I should’ve made sure she was safe like I promised my mom only this morning, but I was too focused on my own shit. And now ... I don’t even know what. If someone hurt her ...
My steps speed to a jog and soon I’m running—right out the door, through roadies and equipment, ignoring camera flashes and reporters and screams from fans. I race until I reach the bus. Her bus. I only stumble when I catch the flashes of red and blue from the parked police cars.
Climbing the steps to Big Betty, I find the space inside all too quiet and empty. The interior of this bus doesn’t contain much in the way of luxury or even comfort. Instead, a small eating or work area is lined with simple chairs, and sleeping bunks occupy the majority of the space. Darren, one of our security and drivers, sits in one of the chairs and raises his gaze at my intrusion.
“Where is she?” I demand through winded breath.
“Lexi?”
Who else?“Yeah, Lexi. Is she here? Is she okay?” My anger boils once again and I step over to where Darren sits.
“Trent, you need to leave. Let the cops do their job.” He nods out the window like I haven’t noticed the obvious.
“Where the fuck is she? Who was it? Who fucking hurt her? Where is he?” Panic grows with the thought that she’s gone. Hurt. By one of our employees, on this tour, and the responsibility settles heavy on my chest.
Darren stands and grips my shoulder with slight shake of his head. “Trent.”
I pull out of his hold. I don’t understand why, but I need to find her. I need to know she’s safe. “Where is she?”
“I’m right here.” Her voice slices through my anger and my head turns toward the sound. She’s there, all stripped down and real, dressed in a pair of sweats, with no makeup and hair wet. Her green eyes are wide, uncertain, and when my gaze lands on the ice pack she holds against her arm I resolve that I will find whoever hurt her and beat the fucking shit out of that sorry excuse for a man.
“Lexi.” I breathe out her name and walk to where she leans against the narrow bathroom door frame.
“Is everything all right?” she asks, her brows knit with confusion. She takes a step back before I come too close.
I halt. She doesn’t understand why I’m here. Because I’ve either been an insensitive prick or hitting on her at every chance. That changes now. “I don’t know. That’s what I came to find out. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Her face flushes with what I assume is embarrassment and she drops her chin, arms wrapping around her own waist.
