Page 12 of Scars of the Sun
The walls were painted a dark umber, and band posters and weird knickknacks decorated the walls and side tables. The old couches and scarred wood tables were nearly filled with Antler Pointe townies.
A hand clamped around my fingers, and Sylvie pulled me in the direction of an empty curved couch in a deep fuchsia color. I tried to focus in on my anticipation instead of the thin thread of disgust at the less-than-clean furniture that met the skin of my bare legs.
“Okay, what do you want to drink?”
I floundered, trying to think of all the possibilities, but I apparently was taking my own sweet time, because Sylvie just nodded and patted my leg. “Okay, I’ll get you a beer. Be back!”
Before I could insist that I treatherto a drink since this was my excursion, after all, she was already lost in the crowd that was filling the bar floor. I scanned the space, feeling out of place until glancing at my outfit and realizing that, okay, my sister-in-law did know what she was talking about. Everyone was dressed in black and denim, the makeup was sparse or dark, and the looks were somehow severe and good-natured at the same time.
By the time Sylvie wound her way through the crowd and back to me, she’d already been stopped a few times to chat, and her smile was pulled high.
“Okay, I just got you one of my favorites. Hope it’s okay.” I took the proffered can and was met with a light and tangy fizz, like blackberries.
“Yeah, this is good. Thanks. I’ll get the next round.”
She waved my offer away, “Hush, I kept my tab open.”
Well. As I was planning a way to pay her back, the lights around us began to dim, and a round of cheers and hollers started in a wave, cresting in a few screams when the members of the band began to step out.
The drummer and bassist I didn’t recognize, but next came the pale, soft face of the vampire who’d given me the show flyer at the skatepark. His eyeliner was heavier now, making his eyes sunken craters to offset the softness of his round cheeks and tapered chin. A ladder of piercings up his ears and one in his lip set off the look as he sauntered to the microphone, center stage.
My eyes ran frantically back and forth on the stage,where is he where is he—“Thanks for coming out,” the vampire’s voice was deep and raspy. “We’re Concrete Executioners…” he cut his eyes to the side of the stage, and I watched his pinched brows relax. “And this first one is ‘Forget Me Not’.” Just as he announced the first song, the one I’d come for, the Jaguar I’d dragged myself to the bar to see, ran onto the stage with a purple guitar slung across his front.
The bassist started strumming a rumbling beat, with the drummer following in step, and the jaguar shifter took his place on the right of the stage, back straight and cocky smirk on.
I was entranced, the loud, scratchy music scraping against my ears, but all I could take in was his form, easy and confident holding his guitar. Long fingers working the strings with practiced ease.
His gaze lazily swept the audience that nodded along to the heavy beat, and it felt like my heart was just at the back of my tongue. My muscles vibrated with more than the reverberation from the amps, and when his black eyes, creased with joy at the music he created, met mine and held, I stopped breathing altogether.
Like he had every time at the skate spot, he grinned. This time though, as the band handed the song over to him and the drummer to carry the bridge, he didn’t let me go. As if the song was an enchantment to root me in place. To paralyze and open me up for him tosee.And when he threw his head back, laugh bobbing his throat, in perhaps joy at what he’d discovered, I felt it in the deepest parts of me.
CHAPTER SIX
RÍO
The crowd wasn’t half bad for a Wednesday night. I still was getting used to playing with this band, but they were good people as far as I could tell. As soon as Tyler’d found out that I played, he wouldn’t let up until I finally agreed. This was only my second show with the Concrete Executioners, but so far, it was a fun way to spend my hours outside of work. And it gave me another reason to maybe stick around longer than I’d originally intended.
My fingers flew across my purple Iceman, and the thrumming calm made me feel high. The raised stage space wasn’t much, but the lights on us and the ear-splitting music we made wasalmostbetter than sex. My boot tapped against the old rugs that lined the floor, and when Tyler handed the bridge over to me, my mind further slipped away. The crowd clapped and shouted while I let my fingers slide and stepped further to the edge. My hair fell over my shoulders, and when I reached the crest of my solo, I raised my chin.
The faces around me were darkened, slightly obscured, but as I scanned the crowd, I locked with honey brown eyes smoked out with black.
With her hair down and makeup on her face, I almost didn’t recognize the girl that’d started bringing the Wolf pup to the skatepark. The one who’d come into Vinny’s those few weeks ago.
But those sweet, haunted eyes were the same. The lightness and pull in my chest flittered, and a chuckle boomed out of my chest. To hear her breath hitching and scent the distinct swell of that sweet and sour scent of hers that made my mouth water.
Tyler stepped back up to the microphone to finish out the last chorus of the song, and I couldn’t help winking at the beautiful girl as we started up the next one.
The rest of our set went well with minimal fuckups. Though, it wasn’t for lack of trying, at least on my part. Luckily, I’d put in enough practice over the years, and we’d rehearsed quite a bit prior. Because the majority of my attention kept drifting over.
After the first song, she looked more shy, dropping her gaze whenever I met it, but the deep flush on her cheeks was more than enough.
Soon, the set ended, and we were free to watch the rest of the show or leave. So, instead of doing the sensible thing, I hung around, watched the other bands from a corner of the bar that Tyler had commandeered, and continued to drift my gaze to the rich girl. My nose kept catching the thread of her scent that begged me to grab on and find my way over to her.
Jess leaned forward on our table, “You guys going to Finn and Jason’s?”
To my surprise, Tyler agreed and threw back his shot of whiskey without even flinching. Brody was nodding and already fucking drunk, so there was that. Alex was here, too, giving Tyler hopeful glances that he was either outright ignoring or completely unaware of. “I’ll go.” He was a nice guy that was Jess’s childhood best friend and made sure to come to most of our shows.
The three of them turned to me, but it took me awhile to notice they were waiting for my response. The people around us began to applaud, but I was too caught up in my own head, seeing those light eyes every time I blinked.