Page 39 of The Second Deal

“Don’tfucking do this to me,”Ifume.

“We’reshort a guitarist who knowsTimelesssongs,” he states matter-of-factly. “NotsorryI’mlookin’ out when you’d do the same.”

Theair inside the bar is muggy, like the sweltering humidity has fought its way inside to choke me asIsearch the faces of my former bandmates, their techs and roadies, fans waiting for me to make a move.

“Ste-pha-ni!Ste-pha-ni!Ste-pha-ni!”

Myheart pummels against my sternum a million beats per minute.Myhands are sweaty.Mouthis dry.Breathshaking.IthinkIsee stars twirling in the periphery.

StaringatAdrian,Isilently beg him not to encourage me to go out on that stage, to not let me make another huge mistake thinkingIcan make things work.

Nightmaresbe damned,Ishouldn’t be here.NotwithoutZak.

Adriansteps closer. “Thisis why you’re back, princesa.Thisis why you came back.”

Ilook betweenRobbieandShannon, both of them waiting with bated breath.

“Steph.”

Thesmirk is gone fromAdrian’sface.Allthat’s left are his pleading dark eyes. “Youbelong out there with us,” he says, hardly audible above the crowd chanting my name.

“Idon’t even know any of the new songs,”Ireason.

“Wecan play an old school set,”Shannonoffers.

“Youshould be out there with us,Steph.”Mybrother winces when his cheeks reach too high into two black eyes. “C’mon.It’snot like you’ll be stuck playing with us forever.It’sjust one night.”

Iswallow the hard rock in my throat.It’sjust one night.Forold time’s sake.

Igulp down a deep breath and reach for theVIPlanyard, slipping it off my neck and shoving the laminate into my back pocket.

“Where’shis spare?”

Chapter15

What If I Lost It

–bloodsimple

Myeyes are wideon the crowd anticipatingTimelesson the stage any minute now.Zak’sshimmering white guitar hangs from my shoulders whileI’mhuddled up on the side stage withShannon,Robbie, andAdrian.

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

Anarm wraps around my shoulders, setting them ablaze from the warmth of body heat.Mystare breaks from the guitar to findAdrianwatching me with a questioning look.

“You’renot gonna run off in the middle of the set, are you?”

Igasp sharply, audible enough forAdrianto furrow his brows. “Idon’t thinkIcan move.”

Amusementfractures the seriousness of his features.Heleans toward me, lips at my ear. “Yougot this.Pretendwe’re on tour from before you left andZakgot sick.”

“Zakdoesn’t get sick!”Isqueak.

Adrianchuckles and tugs at a lock of my hair that escaped the bun on my head. “Hedid just this once.”

“A’ight,”Shannonstarts, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. “Y’allremember the setlist fromSantaMuerte?”

“Yeah,” we all confirm.

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