Skeletons of Us (Unquiet Mind Book 2) (23 page)

Play a fuckin’ concert tonight.

He was not happy about this. Not in any sense of the word. Lexie on a stage, vulnerable, in front of thousands of people? The thought filled his blood with acid. But it was not his choice. Unless he wanted to kidnap Lexie, there was no way to stop the show. She had made sure everyone knew she was doing it, despite all protests. Even her fuckin’ manager didn’t seem happy about it. And it was the guy’s paycheck that would hurt if she didn’t play that show.

He was concerned enough to forfeit money in order to keep Lexie safe.

Thing was, she wasn’t willing to forfeit her pride to do the same.

It made Killian proud as shit and furious at the same time.

After being satisfied that the venue was covered, he’d returned to stand outside her door. Sam had threatened to disembowel him if he entered. Not that he’d listen to him, but this wasn’t the time. Lexie was about to play. He couldn’t do this now. He had to be patient. He’d waited four years, what was another couple of hours?

Just watching the chaos backstage made him nervous. So many fuckin’ people ran around, any of them could be a threat. They’d have to go through him first. Plus, Keltan had vetted all the people backstage. As had the cops, who visited regularly but still had nothing.

Idiots.

Standing outside Lexie’s door, he’d been approached by a handful of girls who he’d immediately recognized as groupies. They had the same look to them as club girls. Too much makeup, too few clothes, and not enough self-respect. He’d shrugged them off like flies.

He listened to the muffled voices in Lexie’s dressing room. The band plus her manager were in there. The manager who had blatantly ignored him all day. The one who was definitely pushy but still cared about Lexie.

The door opened and that very manager emerged. His scowl settled on Killian and he slammed the door behind him. He stepped forward so he was toe to toe with Killian.

“You hurt her, I’ll slit your throat in your sleep,” Mark promised before stepping back and striding off.

Killian watched him leave with a grin. Yeah, he cared about her.

The band left soon after Mark, each of them pointedly ignoring Killian.

Except Wyatt. “You go in there”—he nodded to the door—“we got problems. Lexie needs quiet before shows. She’s got enough swirling in her head. She’s fuckin’ brave even playing this show. You don’t do anything more to mess with her head,” he ordered, face hard.

Killian nodded.

When Wyatt seemed satisfied, he walked off, tagging one of the girls who had hit on Killian earlier and dragging her off. She was more than willing to be pulled away.

The quiet that Wyatt said Lexie needed didn’t last long. The sounds of her guitar filtered through the door along with her voice. Every single part of Killian froze the moment he heard it. He stopped breathing. He’d heard her before. Gone to every show he could, but she’d never been this close, and the words to the song hit him. It took every inch of self-control not to burst into that room. But Wyatt’s words echoed in his head.

“She’s got enough swirling in her head.”

So with great effort, Killian stayed put. Until after the show. Then, all bets were off.

“Are you ready to
fucking rock
, L.A.?” Sam screamed into his mic the moment he sat at his kit.

The roar that had only just died down exploded again. I grinned at Wyatt, who was shaking his head. I caught a glimpse of Mark in the wings, his hands going to his temples when Sam spoke. What did he expect? He’d told Sam to be PG; he should have known Sam would do the exact opposite. He was like a twelve-year-old.

My gaze darted to the form half hiding in the shadows. The one that had been there since I emerged from the dressing room. The heat of his gaze hadn’t left me since he’d taken in my outfit. I’d gone overboard tonight. I usually went for classic boho with a rock edge for shows, but this was straight rock. I was wearing a skintight black dress with flecks of silver in the knit. It was sleeveless and high necked, but the back dipped right down to the top of my butt. The hem finished just below my ass.

The boots I was wearing nearly reached to the top of my thighs, laces snaking up the backs of them. I had huge amounts of silver bracelets on and my hair was tumbling down my back, a crown of braids expertly disguising my fading cut. Mario had gone for smoky eyes and sultry lips.

The look did its job if the way Killian froze and his jaw went granite was anything to go by.

I jerked back into the present with the strum of Wyatt’s bass. Only Killian could make me forget I was standing in front of thousands of people. Only he could make them disappear.

I turned away from him and faced the pulsing mass in front of me, leaning in to sing the first verse. I sank into the moment and let the music take me over.

*****

“For our last song tonight, we’re doing something a little different,” I murmured into the mic, my voice husky.

The crowd screamed in response.

I gave Wyatt a sideways look. He grinned and nodded. “Here’s a little song called “Skeletons of Us,” I hope you enjoy.”

The crowd went wild, completely insane. Then something settled over them the moment I sang my first word, something tamed them. Maybe it was because this was the only time I’d sung this so they were listening. Or maybe they melted away because the song took me over.

Breeze blows sand off a long forgotten bone

Winds uncover what’s buried beneath the stone

A little piece of my soul that no longer lives in me

Because this skeleton I am no longer feels free

Skeletons of us, the sweet remains

How can a dead thing still feel this pain

In this wasteland I’m free

But freedom means nothing when you’re not with me

I used to dream of the sanctuary of forever

Now it’s a life sentence that nothing will sever

Forever is the blink of an eye

Forever is an eternity haunted with a love that never dies

Skeletons of us the sweet remains

How can a dead thing still feel this pain

In this wasteland I’m free

But freedom means nothing when you’re not with me

My violent soul craves the same tragic end

As the skeletons of us that lie at the end of the earth

where my heart cannot pretend

My heart lingers in the bones ground to dust

In the skeletons of us

My voice trailed off and there was a split second of silence. I mean complete silence. The entire crowd paused collectively, my notes flying into empty air. Then it was gone, that absolute, blessed silence. The roar replaced it. And energy fueled it, one I’d never encountered before, not in any other show I’d ever played. The whole stage seemed to shake under the weight of it. I knew the boys felt it too. My heart was thundering out of my chest and every part of me was shaking. It was the song, sure, but it was mostly that intense energy coming from the side of the stage. The stare that had intensified with every word I sang. Every piece of my soul I exposed.

“Thank you, L.A.,” I screamed into the mic.

Then I was gone. I couldn’t physically face it anymore. The energy of my own soul reflected in me by thousands of people. In a trance, I all but ran off stage, the opposite side to him. I had to escape him. That energy. I thought I could handle it. I was wrong. I thrust my guitar at the first person at the side of the stage, my ears ringing. People smiled at me, said things, but I couldn’t say what. My destination was fixed. By the time I got to my dressing room, I was breathing heavily, my heart in my throat. I stood in the middle of the room, my hands trembling.

That song had stripped me right to the bone. I hadn’t realized until now how much I’d been hiding from myself. Not from the pain, it was impossible to hide from that, but from just how much I loved Killian. How much I still loved him. I’d numbed myself from most of it; my body had done it out of survival instinct from the moment I saw him in the hospital room. My subconscious had shielded me from just how deep that love still went after all these years. How it was coiled around my bones. And now I’d exposed it. I knew why I had numbed myself from the majority of it. Because it threatened to kill me.

To destroy me.

The door burst open and I jumped. My eyes crept to the figure at the door, knowing who it was before they even reached his hulking form. The person who melted me with his gaze. The person who lurked behind every single note, every single word in the song I had just sang. Who created the broken, crumpled girl who exposed her equally broken, crumpled soul to him and thousands of people.

We stood there like that, staring at each other, the energy in the room building to a crescendo that dwarfed the one created by thousands of people. Everything else melted away. It was just us. The energy from the stadium couldn’t complete with this. Every nerve ending in my body crackled with awareness. The hairs on my arms stood up and my breathing came in pants.

Everything was still, silent.

Then there was movement. The door slammed shut behind him and he stormed forward, advancing on me. This time I didn’t retreat, didn’t try to escape. I ran into his arms, colliding with him as he effortlessly caught me and lifted me against him. My legs automatically fastened around his hips and his lips descended on mine.

I thought of nothing but the brutal way his tongue thrust into my mouth and the need to be closer as the blood sang through my veins. I couldn’t even focus on the departure of that exquisite pain I’d been living with.

His hand squeezed my ass while he held me up, kneading it and pressing my entire body to him. Another hand thrust through my hair, not gently. The pain that came from him gripping a handful of my curls only made me burn hotter, only made my need greater.

He slammed me against the wall, never detaching his lips from mine, never stopping the brutal assault. I made a sound in the back of my throat as I opened my eyes for a split second. Ice blue eyes fastened on mine. In that millisecond, there was a moment of clarity, of sense of reality rushing back in. It didn’t settle, didn’t stop me. Maybe that’s because, in that same moment, my panties were thrust aside and he plunged into me without warning, without any priming. Not that I needed any, I’d been ready for him since the second we’d locked eyes.

I screamed into his mouth at the feeling of him inside me. He growled and his forehead pressed against mine as he slammed into me with that same brutal intensity that he kissed me. My hands crept up the back of his tee, and I ran my nails along the sinewy cords of his muscles, feeling them tighten under the strain. He bit my neck as I sank my nails into his back.

I was quite sure I would go insane with need, with the brutal coupling that Killian was subjecting me to. I loved every second of it. If this was insanity, I hoped clarity never returned.

“Look at me,” he rasped, his voice so rough it was almost physical.

I instantly obeyed his command. My breathing rapid, I focused on him. Through the frenzied, crazy thrusts, there was sanity. Through the sounds of our heavy breathing, of our coupling, of my body banging against the wall, there was serenity.

He didn’t stop, and he didn’t kiss me again. His mouth just hovered inches from mine, eyes possessing every inch of my soul as his body possessed every inch of me.

It was then that the explosion happened, so brutal, so life-shattering I had to close my eyes and scream out, though it was muffled when he captured my mouth once more. It settled over me and I seemed to ride the wave for an eternity, only vaguely hearing and feeling myself milk him of his release.

Years later, decades, I floated down to earth, registering Killian’s forehead was still pressed against mine. I blinked to see his clear blue eyes hadn’t left mine the entire time. They stayed there, and from this close, I could see they weren’t blank like I assumed they would be. Like they had been for days. No, they were full to the brim and so fucking deep I thought I might drown in them if I didn’t find a way to swim.

He was breathing heavily, his hands at my neck and my legs around his waist.

A knock on the door made me jerk and the movement had Killian sucking in a harsh breath.

“Lexie!” Sam boomed. “Are you alive? Or naked? If you’re naked, take a picture, send it to me, and then come out here and fuckin’ party! Our fans are waiting to worship us!”

Sam’s words worked as a tool to wrench me out of this slip in time and sanity and yank me into the cold embrace of reality.

I’d just fucked Killian. Against a wall in my dressing room.

And yes,
fucked
. Not made love, not had a beautiful, life-shattering moment that I had four years ago during my first time.

Although this was life-shattering all right.

Killian’s arms tightened around me, as if registering the fact I’d gotten my mind back and was battling against the animal he’d unleashed inside me.

“Freckles,” he murmured, his voice so soft it cut through me worse than any hard, cold tone could have.

“Put me down,” I ordered, my voice hoarse.

His eyes blazed and his hands flexed. “Lexie.”