Page 87 of Creed

I grin at the thought of carrying her everywhere with me. She is tiny and pocket-sized, after all.

But Steve opens his mouth again, ruining my little moment. “We take off in thirty, heading southeast to Vegas first. It’s a nine hour drive so we’ll plan on at least two stops. It’s early enough that we shouldn’t need to stop anywhere for the night until we reach the venue. Your first concert isn’t until tomorrow evening so the crew will be on set up duty that night and the following morning in time for sound check later that afternoon. You’ll have a little downtime tonight and tomorrow morning but I expect you to be on stage and ready to run through your set no later than noon.” He gives me a pointed glare which I gladly return. Motherfucker. Like I’m the one who’s fucking late to sound check.

I scowl at him and flip him the middle finger. One time I was late, because I went looking for my fucking mail that he lost, the mail that had that letter in it from Collins. The one that sent me into this spiral of crazy.

Collins looks at me with her brows furrowed before looking back at Steve with a look of question. He doesn’t even acknowledge her existence. Good. One less fucker to come down with a bad case of sleeping face-down in a pillow. I’d never contemplated murder before I found her again, but here I am, getting all creative and shit about it.

“After speaking with Jake, he and his bandmates agreed that you could perform a mix of your own songs, as well as some covers of their songs. This is a unique situation as most bands just cancel their tours due to extended illnesses, so my question to you is this; Do you want this three-month tour to count as part of your U.S. tour? Because if not, you’ll be looking at starting the U.S. leg of your tour in September for another three to four months.”

My bandmates and I each share a look and each give a nod. This is something we’d all discussed from the moment Steve brought this opportunity to us.

What’s a little sleep deprivation to add to the crazy?

I actually feel excited at the thought of getting to spend more time exploring the U.S. with my girl. Spoiling the shit out of her and taking her to see all the places and things she’d been denied as a kid. To get to fuck her in all fifty states? Yes. Fucking. Please.

“Alright.” Steve says, flipping the page of his folder with a little too much gusto. “Now, the first setlist.”

“We’re opening with As We Stand’s most popular hit.” Bear cuts in, his arms still crossed like he couldn’t give two shades of shit about this meeting. Same, bud. Same.

“Which is?” Steve volleys.

“Don’t you have it written in that fancy little folder of yours, Steve?” I enquire, then gesture to his jacket. “Where the hell’d you find one of those with big-ass pockets like that?”

“Creed,” Collins hisses from behind me, admonishing my question, and tugging softly at my hair which makes my eyes roll back and damn near makes me groan. Do that again, baby girl. “Focus,” she whispers.

Good idea. It’ll get people the fuck off this bus sooner and I’ll have thirty minutes to ravage her body before we take off. Yep. Love that plan for me.

Steve coughs into his hand and smooths it over his greased back hair.

Yuck.

“What I have here, Creed,” he spits my name like I’m the gross one here. Ha. “Is the setlist that we’d organized after the release of your newest album. What I don’t have are the songs by As We Stand that you agreed to cover, and when they’ll be sung, so I know how long the show will be.” He whips a fancy pen from his magical deep pocket and clicks it open with unnerving gusto. “So, those songs?”

Bear rolls his eyes and growls out, “We agreed to open with Buried Alive, since it’s got high energy to get the crowd going. It’s one all of their fans know. I think Creed needs to make some sort of announcement after that song, though, because we can’t guarantee that everyone will have heard the news about Jake and his surgery.”

“That I can do.” I confirm, looking at him across the small space between us.

Steve scribbles something on his paper, then looks to Bear for the rest of the songs. He prattles off the rest of the song covers, and when we’re going to play them. Once the set list is adjusted, Steve just stands there for a second, looking at each of us. “Right. I’ll leave you all to…” He claps his hands together and starts to back up to leave the bus but pauses when he finally notices Collins sitting on the couch behind me.

Oh fuck no.

His demeanor changes and I’m sure this fucker is trying to be charming, but he’s so damn creepy that his words sound fucking predatory. “Well, hello there.” He drawls, suddenly in no hurry to leave anymore and his eyes narrow on her. “You look familiar, might we have met before?”

I scrunch my face up in disgust. No fucking way has this guy met Collins before. I look back to Collins, who’s still playing with my hair, but she squeezes at the roots for a moment before she says so softly you can barely hear it. “Um, no. I-I don’t think so.”

“Ah, well, you must have one of those… faces, then.” He says, his eyes roaming over her body and I instinctively reach behind me and grab a throw pillow and throw it over her middle. Steve’s expression immediately sours at the move. See what I mean? Jesus fucking Christ. “What’s your name? Will you be joining us as a guest of Creed’s?”

Okay, it’s time to put a cork in this conversation before we find out if you can really drown in a teaspoon of water.

Collins opens her mouth to answer, but I shoot from my perch at her feet like a bat out of hell and swing an arm around Steve’s shoulders, leading him toward the steps as I lean down, speaking in a low, dangerous tone. “She’s none of your fucking business, Steve.” Then I raise my voice so everyone can hear, “Thank you so much for your time, dear Steve. But as you said, we take off in…” I glance at my invisible watch and blurt out a random time, “Fifteen minutes. We’ve got lots to do before takeoff, so I’ll catch you later, pal.” I say as I practically shove him out the bus door.

He spins when he’s outside, his face now flush with embarrassment and anger. His jowls shake, sputtering for words. “You can’t just?—”

“I just fucking did.” I back him up as he stares at me wide-eyed. He hasn’t seen my new crazy yet. I kept that shit on a tight leash. Or, like, maybe Ayla did. She takes no prisoners when it comes to keeping our band and its members squeaky clean when it comes to the press. Except for Tony. Sure, she keeps his fuck ups minimal in the press, but she wants him out just as bad as the rest of us. But this isn’t about Ritz, or Bear, or Ayla, or Riley. This is about Steve learning his place when it comes to Collins and how far I’m willing to go to keep her safe. He may handle the organization of our band well, but he’s a greasy fuck and I wouldn’t trust him to be alone with Collins. “You don’t look at her. You don’t talk to her. You leave her the fuck alone. She doesn’t exist to you.”

“Creed, who is?—”

“Have a good day, Steve.” I interrupt him with a smile so wide I’m sure it borders on manic and shut the door in his face. I hear him spout out a string of curses and something about “fucking rockstars” before he disappears from sight.

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