Page 208 of Deliverance

“We’ll go take a look at our seats,” I tell Ian and steer Drew toward the corner that takes us to another corridor, which in turn leads to the main auditorium.

I’m used to playing in huge venues and this theater seems too small. If my memory serves me right, the capacity is close to three thousand, but today, there’ll be even fewer guests since a greater portion of the floor has been assigned to the tables. Rich folks. Industry people. Wallets.

The back of the auditorium—all standing room—is allotted for regular attendees, who won admission via the label and the radio station that partnered up the RYR to promote the event.

There were no tickets for sale. It’s an exclusive, invitation-only party.

The auditorium is empty save for a couple of bodyguards and the event staff setting up gear on stage.

I take Drew’s hand in mine and examine the dimly lit space, my gaze darting from one card to another, scanning the names of the guests, most of them familiar.

Our table is in the very front, flanking the stage. We’re seated with Justice and Hazel, next to us—slightly to the right—is Leo and his crew.

“It’s very intimate,” Drew whispers and spins on her heels. “I don’t see where Santiago or Preston is seated.”

I point at the table two rows behind us. Both are going to be spending their evening in the company of Tina Bandini. God help them.

“They’ll kill Preston and then each other,” Drew says as if she just read my mind.

“Dom is very good at diffusing fights.” I laugh and I pluck the card from the holder in the center of our table, then study the engraved letters.

Mr. and Mrs. Cross.

I show it to Drew to demonstrate that our last names don’t match.

“One day, we can be Mr. and Mrs. Shaw.” She smiles and rests both palms on my chest, her gaze holding mine.

We’re interrupted by a tangle of noises as they enter the auditorium. Turning around, I see Justice and Cruz weaving a path toward us.

“You forgot your better halves at home?” I joke.

“You’re not going to believe it, but there’s a playroom upstairs and they have Wii,” Justice explains. “We won’t see our wives and children tonight at all. Unless they get hungry, of course.” He concludes and pulls me into a bear hug.

“Thank God,” Cruz mutters.

“Drew, you look wonderful. As always,” Justice notes, his gaze lingering on the diamond. “I don’t know if I told you, but you’ve chosen a great guy to be by your side.” He claps my shoulder. “If a man isn’t willing to walk at least two miles in a snowstorm to save your life, he’s not the one.”

We share a laugh.

Apparently, Ian wasn’t able to contain the tales of my bravery. The story about Drew’s ex and my stroll through the forest leaked online a few days after she was released. Turned out, one of the hospital staff members was a fan of The Deviant and recognized my face.

He sold us to TMZ and our names were all over the internet until the San Bernardino County Sheriff’s Department made an official statement that Drew wasn’t going to be charged for homicide due to the fact she was forced to kill Rhys Jacoby in self-defense.

Coincidentally, shortly after the news about what happened in Idyllwild broke, several of her pieces fromScarswere bought by major art collectors in Europe.

Eventually, people lost interest and moved on.

“So you two decide on the wedding date yet?” Cruz asks.

I glance at Drew. The decision is entirely hers.

“Not yet, but soon,” she murmurs, clinging to my shoulder.

“Aiden already volunteered to be the ring bearer. Keep him in mind, all right?” Justice announces.

“Absolutely.” I nod.

Another set of voices emerge on stage, and when I look up, I notice Leo’s thin frame behind the drum kit. Next to him is Paul “Thunderstorm” Ashby—the man I replaced on the recent record, the man who’s back to take his rightful spot, the man who’ll be playingmymaterial on the upcoming Bleeding Faith tour, the whose absence—though unknowingly—gave me an opportunity to save a life, to pull someone from the darkness.

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