Warlord Metal (20 page)

The dark woman nodded. "You guys play at La Luna tonight, right?"

"Yep."

"Cool." She put her feet down on the floor and sat up. "I'm gonna go take a shower. I'll wake Jordan after that if she's not up."

The dark man furtively scanned his sister. She appeared happy with her choices in life. He'd noticed, however, that the longer she and Jordan continued seeing each other, the guitarist began flirting more and more with other women. Middlestead wasn't sure, but he thought Sonny was aware of it - the redhead didn't blatantly do it in front of her, though.

He blew out a breath and leaned back in his armchair. With feigned nonchalance, he asked, "So, how's things going between you and Jordan?"

Sonny stopped her attempt to rise and peered at her brother.

Her face was closed to the drummer and it wrenched something deep inside. "Look, Jordan and I got along just fine before..." and he waved vaguely, "this. I'm just concerned for you, you know that."

The teenager considered his comment, nodding in acknowledgement. Seeming to come to some sort of decision with herself, she offered, "Things are okay."

Dark blue eyes regarded her, a little sadly. "Only okay?"

Sonny thought about a response. I don't want to hurt him. But, I am by not talking to him. She sighed and searched her mind for an answer. "Yeah. Okay. It's not like we're a couple or anything." Deciding to take the bull by the horns, she continued, "Frankly, I'm surprised I haven't lost her interest, yet. It has been over six months."

Middlestead nodded. "True. I'm surprised, too. It's not a Jordan thing to do." He examined his sibling carefully. "So, what happens if she does?"

Sonny gave a sharp laugh. "Don't you mean when?" Her derisive humor vanished and she shrugged her shoulders. "Simple. I'll deal with it."

The man's face became grim. You, of all people, don't deserve this, sis.

Shaking off the maudlin mood that was developing, the dark woman smiled and stood up. "I'll be okay, Tom. I'm a big girl now."

Middlestead put on a false smile. "I know, kid. You're a tough bitch."

"Yep. That's me!" Sonny scooped up her backpack and headed for the stairs. "See you in a few."

The scowl returned to the drummer's face once she was gone.

Sonny sat at the bar with Foley. Nearby, the two women that had come in with Atkins tittered and giggled together. As usual, the dark young woman's attention was entirely focused on the stage.

Her lover was onstage with the band, her guitar wailing out a melody. A fine sheen of sweat covered her body, her only clothing being boots, shorts and a flimsy black tank top. She and Atkins were leaning against each other, back to back, her head barely coming to his shoulders as they slammed out the song's finale.

It was particularly crowded in the establishment, an indicator of Warlord's level of popularity. The floor in front of the stage was hopping in beat with the music, a mass of humanity that seemed to have no beginning and no ending.

"Hey, can I buy you a beer?"

Sonny blinked and glanced to her right.

A fairly good looking young man smiled warmly at her. When she didn't respond, his grin widened and he waggled his Heineken bottle. "A beer?"

The teenager gave him a slight smile, shaking her head. "No, thanks." She returned her attention to the stage where the band appeared to be preparing for a break.

Sensing her apparent fascination with the people onstage, the man leaned forward. "Which one are you watching?"

Sonny chuckled a little, tossing a rolled eye at Foley. "The guitarist," she answered.

He nodded sagely. "Ya know, I know those guys.... I could maybe introduce you."

Foley chortled as the dark woman raised an eyebrow.

"Can you?" Sonny asked.

"Oh, yeah!" the man bragged. "Me and Joe go way back."

"Joe...?"

"Joe Prescott," he elucidated, gesturing towards Atkins.

Grinning, the teenager said, "Actually, I was interested in the other guitarist."

The man frowned, trying to make the connection. "You mean Hank?" he finally asked, looking at the shorter man.

Sonny snickered despite herself, feeling the waves of laughter from the woman on the stool beside her. "No, not 'Hank'. The redhead's more my... type."

As the Romeo tried to fathom this statement, the band clambered off the stage for a break. When Hampton arrived at the bar, he gave his blonde girlfriend a hug.

"Hey, Hank."

The bassist looked into her laughing eyes. "What? Who's Hank?"

Romeo became a little flustered. But, before he could extricate himself from a potentially sticky situation, Jordan showed up.

She sidled up to the pair, snaking an arm about the seated woman's waist. She eyeballed the blushing man. "He bothering you?" Jordan asked, implicit menace in her voice.

Romeo opened his mouth but Sonny cut in. "He was offering to buy the beer." She grinned angelically at the man, who was now sputtering .

A red gold eyebrow raised and Jordan appeared impressed, her threatening demeanor fading away. "Thanks!" She pounded on the wooden counter to gain the attention of one of the bartenders. "Hey! One round of drinks! On him!" she pointed at the man.

The man good naturedly paid the tab, especially when he found Atkins and Middlestead behind him. And then he melted back into the crowd.

Sonny had a tough time holding her laughter. "That was good," she giggled as he disappeared.

Jordan took a drink from her free beer. "Yeah, it was. Always good to have fans." She grinned in sardonic response to the dark woman's chuckle. The redhead felt arms wrap around her waist, drawing her into an embrace, long legs straddling her. The smaller woman relaxed into it.

Sonny sighed and enjoyed it while she could. Sometimes her lover didn't allow this closeness when in public venues. Her larger than life stage presence slopped over into real life and the redhead became all macho and posturing, preferring to be the one to initiate contact.

Nuzzling the long neck, inhaling the scent of roses, Jordan murmured, "Was he bothering you? I can still go break his legs." She grinned as she felt the dark woman tremble in laughter.

"No. No need to break his legs."

The group of people remained on break for about fifteen minutes. As Jordan drained her beer bottle, the bassist clapped her on the shoulder. "Time to get back to work," he announced.

The redhead nodded, amidst the good humored grumbling, and placed her bottle on the counter. She leaned into Sonny for a quick kiss. "See you in a bit, sexy."

"Okay. Give 'em hell," the teenager smiled, watching her lover lead the way back to the stage.

Halfway through the crowd, Jordan nearly ran over a woman who turned abruptly into her path. The guitarist reached out and grabbed her by the arms to keep them both upright. "You okay?"

"I am now," the woman purred with a broad smile. Her grey eyes ran illicitly over the smaller woman. "You are a killer guitarist."

A red gold eyebrow raised, recognizing the speculative look. "Thanks," she answered with a crooked grin. Play the game, Horny Jordie!

The woman leaned forward without warning and captured Jordan's lips in a rough kiss.

Having spent years leisurely sampling the wares of the many women along her path, the redhead responded. She was allowed entry and their tongues explored each other, her hands gripping the woman's arms firmly. Gotta get back to work. The guitarist backed out of the kiss in increments.

As the kiss broke off, the woman said in a low voice, "I hear you're killer in bed, too."

Jordan smirked. "Shouldn't believe everything you hear, babe." She resumed her trek to the stage. By the time she arrived, she was acutely aware of her band mates' eyes on her.

Atkins clambered up beside her. "What the hell was that?" he demanded, retrieving his guitar.

"What?" Jordan settled her own guitar's strap on her shoulder. "It was a girl, Lando... Ain't you seen one before?" She rolled emerald eyes at him in disgust. "Shit, man, it's not like I'm married! Or a nun!"

Atkins pursed his lips in slight disapproval. The bassist set his instrument up, acting as if nothing had happened.

Middlestead was the last to the stage. He had seen the lip lock and he was definitely not happy about it. A quick glance back at his sister had verified that she'd seen it, as well, her face pale and Foley reaching to take her hand. He glared daggers at the redhead, wanting to say something - Anything! - but she wouldn't look at him.

I didn't do a damned thing wrong, Jordan growled at herself, adjusting the guitar. Fuck somebody for a few weeks and suddenly you're inseparable, a voice complained. Another piped up as she glanced across the sea of faces to see a pale, dark haired teenager at the bar. Horny Jordie strikes again!

Sonny's stomach had dropped out from within her when the woman had kissed Jordan. The fact that the redhead hadn't initiated the intimacy was noted. But, also the fact that she hadn't really stopped it, either.

It was bound to happen sooner or later, she thought, the pain in her chest seeming to deafen her. Sonny glanced over at Foley, seeing the sympathetic eyes and feeling a hand take hers. The nausea passed and numbness set in.

The band began their next set and the redhead's eyes met hers from across the room. It saddened the dark woman that only the mask was shown to her. Does she know? Does she care?

The band played for another forty-five minute set, the crowd filling the area before the stage with a hyper energy. Atkins did his usual hot-dogging - leaping about and careening from one side of the stage to the other. The bassist and Jordan played with a more sedate demeanor, the redhead giving off the aura of the stern and serious musician.

Middlestead pounded on his drums with a bit more force than usual. He'd learned his lesson months ago and didn't attack his kit with quite enough force to break them. No, I'd rather break someone else, he scowled, baleful eyes following his sister's lover.

The bitch is going to two-time my sister, I just know it! It's only a matter of time. And there was nothing he could do. The feelings of helplessness were the absolute worst. The drummer hadn't felt like this since just after his parents had died.

The look of heartbreak on Sonny's face.... Middlestead growled, banging his cymbals with a little extra strength. And Jordan had completely ignored him since the set had started, not even glancing his way for tempo cues. She knows she's gonna do it, too. And that thought put his anger on whole different level of fury.

Deep inside, however, there was a hope. A hope that maybe Sonny's emotional suffering wouldn't be in vain. Hope that she'd let go of this path, this woman and find someone that would at least take care of her and love her. Hope that Jordan would leave his sister alone and go fuck her little sluts instead. And buried beneath all those was a secret, dark hope that he refused to acknowledge within himself - hope that this was just something Sonny was experimenting with and she would come to her senses and find a nice young man to be with.

Warlord finished up with a flourish, basking in the applause of the audience. Hampton, who'd been singing the lyrics to their last song, spoke into his microphone, "Thanks, folks! And have a good night!"

The bar had put out the last call about half an hour ago. The band was finished. And so, the people on the floor began making their slow way out of the establishment, finishing up their drinks, gathering up jackets and scarves. A few approached the stage to give their personal thanks for a great time and were met with gracious smiles as Warlord began dismantling their equipment.

It wasn't long before most of the people had left. The band was on stage, their voices echoing in the suddenly empty room as they packed up their gear. A couple of the diehard fans/friends were helping Middlestead out with the drum kit.

At the bar, Foley and Sonny sat with Atkins' dates, watching. The dark woman's face was worried as she studied a small cluster of groupies that hadn't left. One of them was the woman that had kissed Jordan. Behind her, the three bartenders were washing glasses and putting away the liquor.

"What am I gonna do, Lisa?" she asked the woman beside her, her voice hushed so as not to carry. "I haven't had to deal with this before."

Foley sighed, her lips pursed in thought. "Is she worth fighting for?"

Pale blue eyes blinked in surprise at the question. She looked to her left with a frown. "Of course she is!"

The blonde nodded. "Then I guess you'd better do something to remind her you're here." She studied the gaggle of groupies. "Give me a minute."

Sonny nodded, watching the women, as well.

Warlord finally finished putting things away and Hampton had left to get the van to the stage door. The drummer had 'accidentally' bumped into Jordan several times during the packing, each time getting a little rougher. As the subtle abuse continued, the redhead's scowl deepened. Atkins was playing it smart and steering clear of the two of them.

Finished, Jordan crossed the stage, attempting to step down and walk over to the bar. At the same time, the groupies nearby began drifting towards the stage.

Foley gauged their trajectory, grabbed Sonny by the elbow and boosted her off her stool. "Interception," she murmured, heading for the women.

Swallowing, the dark woman nodded in understanding and went with.

Before Jordan could get off the stage, however, Middlestead took the opportunity to 'bump' her once again with a shoulder, putting her off balance and causing her to stumble.

Alright! That's it! She whirled around, hands fisted at her sides. "Just what the fuck is your problem, Tom?" the redhead demanded.

Dark blue eyes narrowed. "You are my problem." He faced her fully, puffing up in unexpressed anger. "You're going to hurt my sister. You're messing her up more and more each day." He leaned even closer, his voice lowering in menace. "She thinks she loves you. And you're gonna break her heart."

Sonny, seeing the beginning of the exchange between her brother and lover, veered away from the groupies and picked up her pace. Uh oh!