Page 97 of Tortured Tones

“Hey.” Her eyes glistened in the soft beam of light coming from her torch “I just want to wish you luck. Have a great time out there.”

“Always. But thanks.” I glanced at my forearm where she still touched me. Within a second, she pulled away. “Hmm. Careful, Ava. I might think you want another round with me.”

“No. I’m still recovering from the first.” She blushed. I liked that.

“I’ll see you after the show.”

“Knock ’em dead.”

“We will.”

I raced up the stairs. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I gave the guys one last hug before we rushed to our places. Joel, our stagehand, helped Flint with his guitar. I took a seat behind my drums. In the darkness, the cymbals and chrome edges on my snares and tom-toms shimmered and glistened as they caught the small beam of light from the floor. They begged me to play. Oh, I will.

From the other side of the curtain, the crowd chanted and clapped for the concert to begin.

My heart thundered against my ribs.

I checked and wriggled on my stool, then balanced my sticks in my hands. My canister of spare sticks was in reach. So were my water and towel. The guys and I gave Jackson, who was standing on the side of the stage, the thumbs up. We were set. He gave us the green light. Showtime! One. Two. Three.

The stage curtain fell away. The crowd erupted with deafening cheers and whistles. With a huge grin on my face, I stuffed my ear monitors into place. The projection screens behind me flickered to life with graphics and videos.

I tightened the grip on my sticks. I closed my eyes, counted to three, then struck the first beat of our song. The reverberations from the cymbals charged up my arms and struck the center of my chest. So freaking good. The muffled screams from the audience teased my ears. Then, it was on. I pummeled the drums, pumped the pedals, pounded the snare, the toms and cymbals. Hit after hit. Strike after strike.

Fuck yes!

Flint took to the mic, opening the show with the hyped-up party song off our latest album.

I’ve been living in a dream, watching the hours go by,

Now tonight is here, I can’t believe you’re by my side.

You’re standing here with me in your red party dress.

I’ve got new jeans on, trying to look my very best.

I kiss your sweet lips, everything feels so right,

Oh yeah . . . I’mgonna take you out tonight.

We’ll jump in my car, and drive beneath the moonlit sky,

Hit some club and dance all night.

We’ll sing along to songs and get on down,

The crowd will be wild, jumping all around.

I’ll hold you close, and we’ll get lost in the beat,

But in the disco lights you’ll be all I see.

Oh, baby I don’t ever want to let you go.

Yeah, I want you next to me . . .

Every thud coursed through my veins. By the fourth song, sweat licked my skin. My muscles strained and burned. But I never missed a beat. The sea of fans, yelling and screaming, was nothing but a distant sound in my ears as I focused on every track. Every transition. Every element I had to deliver.

Following our melody of hits, the auditorium lights brightened. Flint raised his arms high and pointed at the crowd.

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