My full attention was given to the song I was singing. Winking, blowing kisses to the girls in the front row that kept throwing me roses as I sang. Rinse and repeat. I saw nothing beyond that. So when Jesse suddenly stopped drumming right in the middle of our last song I nearly stumbled on the words.
Drake left me next, the guitar solo never coming, and I turned around to find that both he and Shane were running across the stage and heading straight for the crowd. Jesse was already in the masses, pushing his way through the now screaming fans as they tried to get to him. “Get the fuck off!” he bellowed and then he was on his knees.
That was when I saw her: thin little arms holding onto the big bald man; auburn hair flying back as Jesse stood with her in his arms; a dirty, tear stained, baby doll face.
The fans were going crazy, screaming for the guys to take the stage and finish the concert. Jesse didn’t respond to the group of guys standing close to him and cursing. Shane and Drake had reached Jesse now. They pushed two loud guys back when they tried to charge at Jesse.
I tossed my microphone away, no longer caring about finishing the set. Screw the crowd. All I wanted was to hold Emmie and find out if she was okay. Jumping down from the stage I pushed my way through a group of girls who screamed and tried to get hold of my shirt as I passed. The material tore, leaving a hole at the hem. Hands touched my face, their nails leaving scratches.
I snarled something unintelligible at the bitch who stood between me and the only girl that could ever touch my heart. The skank stepped back, as if I was about to hit her, and really I couldn’t be sure if I wouldn’t have.
Jesse turned to face me, his eyes wild, and I knew that something wasn’t right. I took Emmie from him, knowing that I was risking life and limb by doing so but not giving a fuck for either. All I wanted was to hold Emmie!
She stiffened in my arms. Big green eyes glared up at me, and I tried to tell her everything I couldn’t with my eyes as I tightened my hold on her. Our gazes locked for a moment in a battle of wills, one I prayed I would win.
My heart melted when she threw her little arms around my neck and sobbed. “Nik!”
I sighed, sure that I had been offered a pardon for all my crimes in her eyes, as I carried her away from the craziness of the crowd. Drake and Shane kept a path clear as Jesse brought up the rear, making sure that any disgruntled fans didn’t try to get to me and the precious bundle in my arms.
Axton and Rich were waiting on us when we reached backstage. Rich was spiting he was in such a rage. Axton just looked concerned. “What the hell, man? Is she okay?”
“Shut the fuck up!” Jesse told Rich when he demanded we go back out on stage. “Get out of the way or I will move you.”
I combed my fingers through Emmie’s tangled hair, tried not to gag at the way the strands smelled of booze, smoke, and something else. “Just find me somewhere that we won’t be bothered.”
“Is she your sister or something?” Axton asked as he led the way down a narrow hall, searching random rooms for a place we could take Emmie.
“Or something,” Shane muttered.
Finally we found a room with a couch. I pushed past Axton and sat with Emmie still clinging to my neck. Her sobs were shaking us both and it broke my heart. I grasped her shoulders and pulled her back enough so I could inspect her for any damage.
Her face was unharmed, except for the tear stains down her cheeks, but there were bruises on her neck, as if someone had tried to choke her. She was holding her arm a little awkwardly and I grasped it. She whimpered in pain as my fingers skimmed over her swollen wrist.
“I think it’s broken,” I said quietly, trying not to frighten her.
Jesse muttered a curse. Shane left to find ice while I continued to examine Emmie, but other than the usual bruises, I couldn’t see that anything else was wrong. “What happened, Emmie? How did you even get here?” I asked quietly.
“I heard on the radio that you were going to be in Cleveland. I wanted to come see you guys, but Momma was high when I asked her… She pushed me against the wall and started choking me. I tried to push her off and she grabbed my wrist.” Her chin trembled. “I hitchhiked …”
“You did what?!” Jesse exploded, only to grimace when she flinched at his harsh tone. “Emmie, do you realize how dangerous that was?”
Chin still trembling, she nodded her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Her mother did this?” Axton exclaimed, and I realized for the first time that he was still with us. Drake motioned him to the back of the room and started talking to him in hushed tones so Emmie couldn’t hear them.
“Here we go, sweetheart.” Shane had a bag of ice and a bottle of Tylenol in his hands. “Let’s get you feeling better.”
She gave him a watery smile as she swallowed the tablets and put on a brave face as he placed the ice on her injured wrist.
“We have to go to the hospital, Emmie.” I combed my fingers through her tangled hair, trying to keep her calm even though I knew that even mentioning a visit to the hospital would do anything but.
Big green eyes widened in horror. “No. No, please no.”
“I’m sorry, baby doll. But if your wrist is broken it will have to be set.” I glanced at Jesse for help when she started sobbing again.
He crouched down beside me, taking Emmie’s good hand into his. “You have to be brave now, Emmie. No tears. A broken wrist is serious.” Emmie sucked in a few breaths, trying to stop the broken sobs. “I’ll be right there holding your hand while the doctors fix you up. Okay?”
“P-promise?”
“Promise.” He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the door, leaving the rest of us to follow.
It was nearly dawn before we got Emmie home. I didn’t want her to go, but we all knew that she had to. Jesse held the now sleeping Emmie in his arms, her left wrist in a cast now. I knocked on the door with my three friends standing at my back while we waited for the evil bitch to open the door.
Two minutes passed before she opened the door, nearly stumbling out in her hungover state. Jesse growled something under his breath. I gave the woman a once-over, taking in her almost emaciated figure. Her face was so thin it looked like someone had pulled skin tight over a skeleton. I wasn’t sure how old she was, but she looked close to fifty. Her dyed red hair was dry and lifeless, her eyes empty just as her soul was.
“Well look at you boys.” She leaned against the door frame, a cigarette hanging from her lips. “What brings the big shot rockers back to this hellhole?”