Deep (Stage Dive 4)

“You didn’t,” said Mal, his voice low and lethal as the tension in the room took an entirely new turn for the worse.

“Calm down.”

“Told you stay away from her. Didn’t I? She’s my girl’s kid sister for Christ’s sake.”

Ben stood tall. “I can explain.”

“Shit,” muttered David.

“No. No, you can’t, Benny. I fucking asked you to leave her alone, bro. You promised me she’d be off-limits.”

Past Ben, David Ferris got to his feet, as did Jimmy at the end of the table. It was all happening so fast.

Ben’s date, Sasha, the burlesque dancer with the blue hair, seemed to finally understand the shit storm she’d unleashed with her most excellent announcement. Perhaps she wasn’t so psychic after all. “We should leave. Ben?”

He didn’t even look at her, his gaze glued to Mal.

“You’re like a brother to me, Benny. One of my closest friends. But she’s my little sister now. Tell me you didn’t go there.”

“Mal, man—”

“Not after you gave me your word. You wouldn’t do that, not to me.”

“Dude, calm down,” said David, moving up to try and get between the two. “Let’s talk about this.”

Ben was almost a head taller than Mal, definitely bigger, stronger. It didn’t matter. With a battle cry, Mal launched himself at the man. They fell together onto the floor, rolling and wrestling, fists flying. It was a mess. I jumped to my feet, mouth hanging open. Someone screamed, a woman. The rich copper scent of blood hit the air and the urge to hurl was almost overwhelming, but there wasn’t time for that.

“No!” I yelled. “Don’t, please.”

I’d done this, so it was up to me to fix it. I got a knee up on the table before hands grasped my arms, holding me back no matter how I fought.

“Mal, no!”

David and Jimmy tore Mal off of Ben, dragging the struggling man back across the room.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Mal hollered, his face a mixture of reds from fury and blood. “Let me go!”

More blood dripped from beneath Ben’s nose, trailing down his chin. But he made no move to stop it. Slowly, the big man got to his feet, and the look on his face tore me in two.

“You said you wouldn’t chase after her.”

“He didn’t,” I shouted, still standing on one foot with a knee on the table and Anne’s hand on my arm. “He didn’t want anything to do with me. I chased after him. It was all me. I’m sorry.”

Silence fell and I was surrounded by stunned faces. And a couple of still-bleeding ones.

“I practically stalked him. He never stood a chance.”

“What?” Mal scowled, one eyelid swelling at an alarming rate.

“It’s my fault, not Ben’s. I’m the one who did it.”

“Liz.” With a heavy sigh, Ben hung his head.

The fingers on my arm gave a small tug. I turned to face my sister.

“Explain this to me.”

CHAPTER ONE

FOUR MONTHS AGO

Good girls don’t fall for rock stars. It just isn’t done.

“Pumpkin! PUUUMP-KIN!”

“Oh god.” My sister, the aforementioned Pumpkin, giggled.

I just gaped. It seemed to be my go-to look of the day.

Lord knows, I’d been wearing it ever since letting myself into Anne’s apartment this morning. Because I lived on campus, we’d starting doing brunch every Sunday morning since moving to Portland a few years back. It was our sisterly thing. But instead of standing ready to serve the bacon and eggs this morning, I’d found, Anne was fast asleep on top of a tattooed stud on the sofa. Both of them mostly clothed, thank god.

But, wow, what a revelation. I mean, I didn’t even know Anne dated. I’d thought me dragging her along to the occasional party on campus was the sum total of her social life.

“C’mon, woman,” said Mal, her brand-spanking-new boyfriend. “We can’t be late to practice or Davie’ll get his panties in a wad. You have no idea what drama queens guitarists can be. I swear, last week he threw a total hissy fit just ’cause he broke a string. Started screaming and throwing shit at people. True story.”

“That is not a true story,” admonished Anne, shaking her head. “David is a perfectly nice guy. Stop trying to scare Lizzy.”

“No-o-o.” Mal gave her big innocent puppy eyes, even going so far as to bat his eyelashes. “You think I would lie to Lizzy, my sweet little future sister-in-law?”

Anne just shook her head. “Are we going in or what?”

“Can’t believe you doubted me, Pumpkin.”

We followed the manic blond drummer into a big old building down by the river. As good a place for a loud rock band to practice as any. The only neighbors were industrial buildings, abandoned for the weekend. Inside wasn’t any warmer, but at least we were out of the bone-chilling October wind. I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my gray woolen coat, nervous now that we were actually about to meet them. My sole interactions with the rich and famous started this morning with Mal. If the rest of the band was anything like him, I’d never keep up.

“As if anyone could doubt me. That hurt bad,” he said. “Apologize.”

“Sorry.”

Mal smacked a noisy kiss on her cheek. “You’re forgiven. Later.”

Stretching his fingers and rotating his wrists, the man bounded off toward the stage assembled at one end. Instruments, amps, and other sound gear covered it and the surrounding area, with roadies and sound techs busy amid it all.

It was fascinating, this, him, and my whole damn morning. Mal and Anne seemed so in tune with each other. Perhaps Anne and I had been a touch too hasty in our dismissal of romantic love and affection. So it hadn’t worked out for our parents. Hell, those two had pretty much made a mockery of commitment and marriage. Mal and Anne might yet make a far better case study.

Fascinating.

“He’s borderline insane by the way,” I said quietly. “So manic.”

“Yeah. Isn’t he great?” She grinned.

I nodded, because anyone who could make her smile so bright clearly must be. The light of hope in her eyes, the happiness, it was beautiful.

And the man in question? None other than Malcolm Ericson, drummer for worldwide renowned rock group Stage Dive, had somehow shacked up with my sister. My quiet, calm, color-within-the-lines-or-else sister. Anne was being vague about the details, but the facts remained the same. Her new boyfriend stunned me stupid. Perhaps someone had slipped something into my coffee back on campus. It would certainly explain all of the crazy.