-14-
Spook’s stomach churned as he waited on the tour bus for his ride to the hotel.Only their crew were staying on site.Night had smothered the surrounding fields in a thick cloak of anonymity.Hence he’d dared to stick his head out of the door, and stand on the steps, rather than remain in the stifling interior.
What he really wanted to do was walk… Just keep on pacing, heading forward until the horizon around him was unrecognisable and no one knew his name, and there were only trees and stars and endless obscurity.
For the first time in a decade, his heart wasn’t genuinely invested in the gig he was playing tomorrow.By this point, he was usually revved up, buoyed by an antsy sort of euphoria that would peak once Black Halo were on stage.He loved festival crowds.Liked their energy, their vastness, the unruly, primal, reckless, fantastical, unpredictability of them.He loved how they sang along, bellowing prayers into the air like their ancient forefathers had also done.
Wild magic flowed out of them.
That excitement wasn’t there for him at the moment.He could see it, hear the echoes of it, but it was as if a veil separated him from the experience.
Apart.That was how he felt.
Disconnected.
Emptied of everything save lethargy.
He exhaled in a long stream as the catalyst of this mayhem trudged towards him from the direction of Ronnie Bush’s campervan.
Allegra was a silhouette in the darkness, flame-red hair dulled to an occasional flash of copper.Her plod weary, one foot seeming to drag behind the other.Nevertheless, a grimly determined smile sat upon her full lips.She’d dealt with every bit of crap the world had thrown at her today, and emerged victorious.Hail Hutton!Her determination to never give in, never give up dwarfed him.He possessed no such ferocity.He was no burning firebrand propelled by injustice to seek recompense, or even a simple apology.
His lack of drive had thrilled Sally Kettering.
He’d donned a mask of stoic, silent, serenity as he’d endured her lecture.She’d rambled at length, contradicting and repeating herself multiple times, until she eventually settled upon the tactic that made most sense to her.The same one she always adopted.Say nothing.Brush it under the carpet, and carry on as if nothing had happened.Rely on the fact that something bigger and more newsworthy would erupt within a day or two, and their little rock ‘n’ roll drama would be forgotten.
That wasn’t to say she hadn’t pulverised him with at least one ringer.“I’m disappointed it’s you I’m having this conversation with, Spook.I thought you were above this sort of crap, but lately it’s been you at the centre of everything.”
The knife edge of shock had been visceral.Like he’d invited Ronnie to disclose his love of spanking, or asked the wretch in Genoa to assault him, or reacted on anything besides pure instinct when he’d put his fist in Marshall Hutton’s face.Like he’d forgotten his job was to keep his head down, stand back, and watch while the others ran riot.
He didn’t agree that was his role.Although, truthfully, if he’d carried on as he’d always done, then none of this would have come to pass.Sally was right about that.Remove Allegra from the equation, and there was no distracting phone call in Genoa.No Ronnie Bush stepping in to do them a favour.No crumbling of his resolve.No sex.No spankings.No unscratchable itches setting his skin on fire.And no buzz in his brain telling him that what he liked was all reasonable and normal, and there was no reason to stop.
Alle reached the base of the steps.She looked up at him as if expecting some kind of rebuke.When none came, she blinked.“You waited.I thought you’d have gone by now.”
“I sent Xane etcetera in the last car.”Something Xane hadn’t been overly happy about, but god, he’d wanted time out from them all.In any case, the car could come back for him.“I’m not just going to leave her behind, Xane.”
He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d waited.Who’d told Ronnie about him?Her or Paul?
How crazy was it that the only man alive that he actually trusted was a sex addict?
“When was that?”Alle asked.There was a smudge of something on the side of her brow, and she smelled strongly of tea and wilderness.
“About ten minutes ago.”
“Does that mean we’re stuck here?”
“Hardly.I’m capable of calling a cab.”He sighed.“In any case, Xane’ll send the car back.”
Slowly, deliberately, she climbed the tour bus steps, stopping on the one below him.“You know that Ronnie’s really sorry, Spook?It wasn’t deliberate.Marshall was vile.”
“I know.”
She pursed her lips, like maybe she’d expected him to say more than that.Only, he was right out of words.
“I got him settled in with an assortment of his favourite munchies.I think he’ll be fine.Chauncey’s being grovellingly obsequious, probably because he’s desperate not to lose his cushy job, but Lyra’s risen to the challenge.She’s supposedly the underling, but she appears to do all the real work.Chauncey seems to be a bit of a drip.”
Fascinating.He didn’t care.
“Are you mad at me?”
