Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3)

And it did.

It felt fucking right, and when I stepped on that stage, I was feeling so damned high. Floating on those old dreams that I’d had to let go. But for one night, I was going to cling to them. Live them. I could only hope this would give something good back to the guys when I was the one who’d bailed.

The crowd was absolutely wild. Eating us up. Their bodies a living, breathing pulse where they thrashed on the floor in front of us.

It felt so good.

So right.

I played so hard it felt like my fingers would bleed—so out of practice—sang until my throat was raw and my spirit was soaring. The place was completely lit by the time we wrapped the last song on our set.

We all fumbled off the stage, high fives going up, everyone backstage telling us the show was as kickass as it felt.

Shots were passed around.

I hesitated with the tiny glass clasped in my hand.

“To the future,” Ash said as he lifted his, and Sebastian and Mark repeated the same. I lifted mine. All four of us clinked them in the middle.

What the hell? It was tradition.

I tossed it back.

It burned sliding down my throat, pooled like fire in the welcoming well of my stomach.

I heaved a harsh breath through my nose.

Damn.

That tasted good.

And I didn’t have a fucking clue why, but I was throwing back another. Then another. I found myself in a room backstage. The headlining band had just gone on, but the after-party was already in full swing.

I fucking twitched at the sight of the pile of coke Adrian was cutting on the table. Had known him for years, and the kid was nothing but a straight punk, following the hardcore scene, party to party, club to club, always at the ready with a supply.

He’d even been back at the house I’d shared with the guys a few times, more there for a delivery, though he played it off like it was his job to have a good time.

Didn’t trust him.

Not at all.

But that didn’t mean my mouth wasn’t watering. That I didn’t itch.

I forced my attention away, back to Sebastian who was talking to some agent. He’d introduced him as Anthony, and I struggled to engage in their small talk, doing my best to focus on anything but Adrian.

But there was no stopping it, the way my gaze kept getting drawn, my mind already there, kneeling at the table.

What could one little hit hurt?

I crossed the space, fisting my hands as I stared down at Adrian where he sat on the sofa.

Looking up, he grinned. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the infamous Lyrik West. Thought you’d gone and decided you were too good for us.”

I wanted to tell him to fuck off.

Instead, I dropped to my knees. No different than a cheap whore, taking the rolled up bill and the proffered line.

But that was all it took for everything in my world to come into sharp focus. Tonight had to be right. My conscious sprinted ahead of the nagging wrong. The show. That fucking amazing show. Right here was where I belonged.

The rest of my crew joined in, the party raging on, growing by the minute. Between the four of us, we spent everything laid out on the table.

“What do you got?” Sebastian asked, swiping under his nose as he lifted his chin at Adrian, asking for more.

Adrian clucked. “You’re at five hundred bucks, bro. Gotta see some cash.”

Sebastian’s eyes flashed. “What the fuck, man? You trying to rip us off now?” He flung his hand at the table. “That was like…two hundred…max.”

“You still owe me from back at Benny’s a couple of weeks ago.”

“Paid you for that.”

Adrian sneered. “What? You’re calling me a liar now?”

Faster than anyone could make sense of it, Sebastian shoved the table forward. Adrian howled like a bitch when it rammed his shins. “Fuck yeah, I am.”

Weren’t usually a whole lot of people dumb enough to go up against us, but this asshole climbed to his feet, glaring down like he was all too happy to take us on. He spat in Baz’s direction. “Promise you, you don’t want to start thinking you’re gonna cut me short. That’s a story that’s not gonna end well.”

Anger radiated from Sebastian. Seeping out. This diseased venom he’d caught the day one of his brother’s had died.

Contagious.

Because I could feel those fangs sinking into me. It’d always been like that between us. Me and Sebastian feeding off the other, taking it out on whatever asshole got in our way.

Tonight it was Adrian.

Sebastian slowly stood, rising to the full height of his hulking mass.

“And just what exactly do you think you’re going to do about it?”

I pushed to my feet beside him.

A.L. Jackson's books