Page 104 of Creed

Am I good? Not at fucking all. But my friend forces me out of my Collins-induced stupor when he grabs me by my neck and spins me to face the crowd. His forehead touches my temple as he growls loud in my ear, “Sing so we can get the fuck out of here.”

Bear isn’t huge on touch but he knows that the crowd eats that shit up when we get handsy with one another. The way we act on stage is just that, but it seems to fuel the fans’ fantasies I guess.

He releases me and I turn back to blow him a kiss, “Yes, daddy.”

Bear walks backwards to his spot on stage while shaking his head, but his lips tip up at the corners. I have to force myself to not turn around and start to sing. It feels impossible now that I know what that costume looks like on my girl and the fact that all eyes are on her. I focus on the crowd and belt out the words, but I can tell that all of the screaming isn’t for me when a unanimous gasp circulates around the arena and I turn to see Collins dropping, twisting, and spinning out to the rhythm of the song. I don’t panic—as much—this time because just like this morning, she stops herself just feet from the ground with such easy grace.

I keep singing the words directly to her, hoping to fuel her momentum as her body bends and sways to the beat. She looks like a pretty little disco ball with the way the light catches on the jewels on her mask and her…very perfect, very nearly on display tits and round ass as she starts to rotate, her right arm and leg wound around the silks in a split and her left arm reaching out.

I miss my cue for the bridge of the song with how mesmerized I am by my girl but the crowd doesn’t even notice as they’re all entranced by the bewitching woman twirling before them. I pick back up and the moment my voice hits Collins’ ears, her eyes lock onto mine for a moment as she begins her last climb. It’s a crazy fucking drop that makes my heart drop out my ass, but I know my girl’s got this.

I didn’t think I was a muscle kind of guy, but I’m so fucking turned on by the way Collins’ muscles flex with every move she makes. She’s tiny as fuck, but she’s not rail thin. She’s curvy and muscular where it counts. I’d love her body no matter what shape, but shit, she’s perfect exactly as she is.

I sing out the chorus one last time, my eyes never leaving Collins’ body as she climbs. Wrapping, twisting, and flipping herself around and over the silks until she couldn’t possibly wind any higher. Riley takes off into the ever-popular drum solo at the end of the song and my little Stardust winks at the crowd, blows them a kiss, and drops.

This time, I can’t control the way my hands shoot to my hair and I grip it tight, taking a step toward the frame as she starts to fall. The fabric unwinds from her waist and she’s unraveling at the speed of a fucking yo-yo. When that runs out, it catches on her legs and she’s hanging upside down, her arms dangling as she moves into an upside down split.

“Oh, fuck no.” I shout away from the mic and I thank all that is holy that no one heard me over the now feral noises coming from the crowd. I’m a fraction of a second from ripping her down because abso-fucking-lutely nobody should be seeing that much of Collins Adaire Weston but me.

And maybe Riley.

Definitely Riley.

I’m equal parts turned on and fuming. I’m not mad at Collins. She’s got an amazing body and has every right to show it off. But fuck, it’d take too long to gouge the eyes of every fucker in here who’s laid eyes on what’s mine and that’s what’s got me mad.

The song ends and the crowd noise reaches deafening levels as Collins untangles herself so elegantly, her feet touching down on the stage like a little fairy floating back down to earth.

Her hand covers her mouth as she smiles and laughs, her face behind the mask a perfect picture of shock and awe. She’s still grinning from ear to ear when she shyly waves at the audience and mouths a ‘thank you’.

My feet are already moving to her before she can figure out what to do next and when she turns her head to look at me, they widen slightly as I reach behind me and pull my shirt off over my head in one swift move. The crowd screams over it, my losing a shirt during a concert is nothing new, but tonight I’ve got a new purpose for being half-naked on stage.

Her throat bobs as she watches me with a lusty curiosity. I bunch the shirt up and grip the neck opening and pull it wider to accommodate her cute little buns as I yank it over her head. She barely gets her arms through the holes before I’m yanking her to me, my fists still gripped in the soft cotton, and smash my lips to hers.

The audience is still in the throes of losing their fucking minds when whistles and whoops erupt from all around us. Collins is tense beneath me for a fraction of a second before she softens and melts into the kiss. She doesn’t seem phased that I’m claiming her in front of thousands of people, so I’ll take what I can get in the moment. I pull her tighter against me, needing to feel the heat of her as her hands move to grip the back of my neck. We’re both sticky with sweat and her mask is digging into my nose and cheek but I don’t have two fucks to give. I need this. The kiss isn’t soft and sweet either, like I usually give her in moments of pride and praise. No, this kiss is brutal, and savage, and claiming. Selfishly it’s not even for her as much as it is for the world to know that this anonymous pixie belongs to me, and me alone.

And Riley, too, if I have my way.

I grin against her lips at the thought. I pull away, my arm still wrapped around her waist as I hold up the microphone and call out to the crowd, “How do we feel about my little Pixie joining us tonight?” More screams erupt. Pretty sure another marriage proposal is thrown out there. I decided to give her a different stage name than Stardust because I’m fairly certain that’s what she called herself at the club and I can’t risk adding any more fuel to her psycho stalker’s fire by giving away any part of her identity. “You think we should invite her to perform with us every night?” One loud, collective roar of ‘yesses’ ring out.

Collins sweetly leans her head against my chest, her body hugging in toward mine and waves at the crowd again, blowing them another kiss before I drop a kiss of my own to the top of her head and lead her from the stage. Just before I reach the edge, I pause, turning back to all the people and shout, “You guys are the fuckin’ best! Thank you for all the love you’ve shown for us and for my buddy and his band, As We Stand. Let’s hope we can get him back on stage as soon as possible for you, yeah?”

The crowd screams their agreement and I thank them one more time before slinging an arm around Riley, too, as he makes his way to us and I lead my two favorite people from the stage.

Steve congratulates us before grabbing Tony by the arm and escorts him down the hall like a really weird father and son duo, and Ayla leads us to the VIP room where the ticket holders wait for a meet and greet. Riley really can’t stand these and fans have come to expect his absence with silent understanding, so I have him take Collins back to the bus to change into comfy clothes, but not before gripping his beautiful skull between my hands and kissing the tip of his nose and kissing my girl.

My heart races with excitement as I take in the purple kiss mark on his cheek over his scar as they walk away, his arm slung over her shoulder, the two of them already smiling and laughing at something he said.

I do my best to show Riley the affection he deserves in some way, shape, or form every single day, trying to heal and undo some of the damage his cunt of a mother inflicted on him, but there’s only so much my own brand of love can do for him. I can see how much he needs my girl. He’s never looked as happy as he does when she’s around.

My plan for tonight changes in an instant when a thought bubble takes form in my brain. I grin at the idea. Will I be blind-siding both of them? I mean, yeah, but what other choice do I have? If I wait for the two of them to acknowledge how they feel for one another, I’ll be buried six feet deep eighty years from now. I may have known Collins longer, and made her my girl first, but I want Riley to feel like he’s on equal ground with me. I don’t want him to feel like some kind of belated add-on to our relationship.

I need to corner him and force his hand because he’ll never confess otherwise. Feelings are scary, but so is the thought of losing someone so important to me. I know for a fact that Riley will sacrifice himself and all of his happiness to keep the peace, just like Collins. And we just can’t have that.

I watch them until security leads them from the private entrance, where they’re greeted with even more security detail that was actually set up thanks to Asher and Lachlan. It gives me a bigger sense of comfort to know that my family is being looked after by people assigned by family and not just some vetted strangers I could’ve hired. If Asher trusts them, then so do I.

For the next thirty minutes, I smile, sign shirts, pictures, and skin, all while thanking everyone for coming to see us. The last guy to leave looks like he doesn’t belong at a metalcore concert with his white polo and navy trousers with literal penny loafers on his feet. Instantly I’m suspicious of him with everything going on, but he just smiles and tells me how his daughter is a huge fan and how she couldn’t be here because she’s sick in the hospital and he even showed me pictures. I feel a little guilty for judging him so quickly, but like I said, I can’t be too careful when it comes to protecting my girl, and right now, I can’t trust anyone outside of my inner circle and those that they trust to keep Collins safe.

Finally we’re finished and Tony, Bear, and I exit with security and head to our respective buses. Tony is uncharacteristically quiet, not even scrolling on his phone for the nearest strip club or anything.

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