Madelynne Ellis - Come Undone

‘How would I know? I’m a bloke.’

Good point.

‘Could I have a cup of tea, please?’

He shook his head. ‘No teabags.’

‘Oh! OK!’

‘Nip out and get some, if you like.’

‘Are you asking me to leave?’

‘Didn’t say that, did I? Stay if you want. I figure, at least if you’re here I won’t be found dead tomorrow face down in a pool of my own vomit.’

‘Oh!’ Dani shuffled forward to the edge of her seat in alarm. Was that likely? Given the way he was knocking back vodka as though it were spring water, maybe it was, and perhaps a supply run wasn’t such a bad idea. He was going to need a boat-load of painkillers in the morning. ‘Shouldn’t you slow down?’

‘I told you my aim was to get wankered.’

Why did he need to?

‘I know, but if you continue to gulp spirits like that you’re going to hurt your throat. Think of your tour dates. You’re going to disappoint a lot of people if you can’t sing.’

‘I disappoint a lot of people even when I do.’ A dark shadow swept across his face. Even through the make-up she recognised the tightening around his eyes. The set of his mouth turned particularly sour.

‘Did something happen?’ she asked. ‘I mean on stage. ’Cause the gig ended early, didn’t it?’

There was no way Black Halo had been on stage more than twenty minutes. What was that – four songs, maybe? Also, she knew enough about bands to realise they hung out together post show, talked to the fans, that sort of stuff. Xane had whisked her out of the building as fast as possible. He hadn’t even gone back to the dressing room. But it was the conversation with Ash on the way out that was the real giveaway.

‘Yeah, it ended early.’

She waited patiently a moment for Xane to elaborate, but he had his mouth glued around the bottle top again.

‘Want to talk about it? Did someone muck things up? Fry your sound boards, or something?’

Xane spluttered vodka over his lap and the nearby furnishings. ‘You think I’m swilling this muck because of a blown amp?’

‘I don’t know.’ She folded her hands into her lap. ‘I guess not. What did happen, then?’

‘We split up. It’s over. Black Halo are no more.’ He stood and gave a theatrical bow, though it was obvious his mockery was a mask.

‘No.’ Dani shook her head, praying that if she denied it then it wouldn’t be real. But his speedy getaway, not wanting to speak to Ash, and now the vodka – it all added up. So did the soul-deep hurt swimming in his eyes.

‘Dead. Dead. Dead,’ he reiterated, as if he were stabbing the remains just to make sure.

Still, for a moment her brain refused to process the message. Then her stomach lurched. The vodka she’d swallowed burned a second time as it clawed its way back up her throat. She didn’t vomit, but a cold sort of emptiness filled her chest, making it painful to fill her lungs. It couldn’t … it couldn’t be. Why would they split? They were doing so well. Their popularity and fan base grew with each successive album. She couldn’t quite make herself ask him the reason. Everyone knew he was the band’s driving force, and that he lived and breathed it. It was that passion, his dedication, which had made Black Halo into the global success story they were.

‘You’re lying,’ she said clutching at straws.

‘No.’ His lips pursed tight.

The blood drained from Dani’s face. The room swirled.

‘Hey!’ Xane nudged her shoulder. ‘I thought I was the one who got to be melodramatic about it.’ When she didn’t respond, didn’t even look at him, he leaned closer still, with his eyebrows quirked upwards. ‘It’s my band. My life that’s gone to hell. That means I’m the one who gets to have a breakdown, not you.’

‘No, no, no!’ Dani refused to believe that Black Halo had split, on stage. That was mega! Not some little tiff over artistic differences that would be mended in a couple of days.

‘Are you going into shock?’ Xane worried the ring in his lip. ‘Shit! You are.’ He dropped the vodka bottle in order to catch her. ‘Sit down. No. Lie down.’ He forced her onto her back along the length of the leather sofa. ‘Christ! Chill out, woman.’

Dani did feel odd, sort of hollow and prickly. Not numb though. Numb would have been preferable.

Xane swayed in and out of her field of vision. ‘Hey, it’s not that fucking big a deal. It’s just a band.’

Except she knew from the way he said it that he didn’t believe that any more than she did. It wasn’t just a band. It was his life.

‘Just don’t pass out, OK?’ He lifted her legs so that her feet rested on the sofa arm.

She didn’t want to keep still. This was a major deal. If the media had picked up on the story, the group’s demise had probably already been reported on the late-night news. Music journalists would be picking over the carcass, interviewing anyone available for their opinions. This couldn’t be. Other bands split up, but Black Halo was a constant. The only constant in her world that wasn’t associated with effing St Agatha’s.

‘You’ll re-form,’ she managed to croak. Tears were beginning to gather in her eyes. Soon enough they’d spill, and then she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop them.

Xane shook his head. ‘No.’

Why did he have to be so blunt – so bloody honest? Couldn’t he at least pretend it was an option?

‘I ought to have known something would go wrong with this evening. I couldn’t experience an ordinary trip out to a gig to see my favourite band. Oh, no, I get punished for it. Anyone else that meets you gets their shirt signed. I get … I get … this!’ She threw her arms wide for emphasis. It wasn’t fair. Didn’t he realise that he was breaking her heart. Black Halo were her lifeline – the little bit of rebellion that made everything else, all the shit she endured, more palatable.

She began to hyperventilate.

‘Stop it,’ Xane growled. ‘I mean it. Really, fucking stop it. You’re scaring the shit out of me, lady. And I don’t let anyone scare the shit out of me.’ He was big enough and menacing enough for her to believe that. Given his six foot two frame, she doubted anyone had ever managed to truly cow him. He’d laugh off Sister Anna’s threats.

And it wasn’t that she was trying to be dramatic. She just couldn’t deal …

‘Goddammit. I was hoping we didn’t need to do this.’ Xane kissed her square on the lips. Not a peck, or anything soft, but a full-on smacker of a kiss.

He tasted of alcohol and sin and … whoa!

‘There, does that help?’

How in God’s name was that supposed to help? Now she had no breath left in her body, and her heart didn’t know what to do. It stuttered, trying to decide between triple time and cardiac arrest.

‘Again?’ Bastard smiled grimly at her, showing off his crooked demon’s teeth.

He didn’t wait for an answer, which was lucky, because she couldn’t have formed one. He just dived right in and did it, like it was no big deal to be kissing a woman he hardly knew in order to save her from passing out. Although she suspected that more often he caused women to faint.

Damn, he tasted good, of peppermint and fire; much nicer than the starched linen of her pillowcase, which had so often stood in his stead.

Xane’s fingers slid across her cheek and into her hair.

Dani closed her eyes and arched towards him. Mm, yes, that was nice. Not so shocking this time. Her brain was functioning well enough to treasure the brush of his lips against hers, and acknowledge the odd pressure of his lip ring. She responded too. Not with fire, but with total submission. She let him have his way. Let him stamp his mark on her.