Page 3 of Shades of Scars

Once he’s gone, Ant turns his full attention on me. From his back pocket, he pulls out a wad of papers and passes it over to me with a warm smile. “Take a look at the set list and tell me if there are any tunes you don’t know. We’re all fairly new to this as a group, so we’re just here to vibe tonight. Boss will be watching from the back as we play the first set. Once that’s all said and done, I’m sure he’ll pull you back for the rest of your interview.”

I unfold the roll of papers and glance briefly over the list of songs, relief washing through me when I recognize them all. “This shouldn’t be a problem. I’m pretty familiar with these.” I hand the packet back over to him, and he slips it back into his jeans pocket with another easy smile.

“Awesome. If you want to hang your purse and coat over there, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the band. It’s show time in ten.” He gestures over to a small alcove at the back of the stage where I can see other coats and belongings stashed. I don’t really care for my things being out in the open like that, but I do as I’m instructed, before heading back to where Ant waits for me.

Then, he turns to the three other band members milling around behind us with that dopey grin plastered on his face. “Guys, this is Scarlett. She’s going to be jamming with us tonight for a bit. Test the waters for the boss to see if she’ll be a good fit for us.” All three of them shift their attention to me.

A tiny beta woman with sharp cheekbones, dark, short cropped hair, and vivid blue eyes sits on a stool in front of an electric keyboard. She offers me a small wave, and I return the gesture. “Hey. I’m Vivianna, but you can call me Vi if you want.”

“Scarlett. Or Scar. Whichever you prefer. It’s nice to meet you.”

I turn my attention to the burly alpha behind the drums. He has dark brown eyes and chin length, shaggy brown hair that frames a stoic face with a perfectly trimmed beard that reminds me of an eighties rock star. He dips his chin in my direction, but doesn’t wave. “Rocky. Nice to meet you Scarlett.” He rumbles out, and I try not to shiver at the sound.

“Fitting name.” I quirk a brow, trying to be funny. Thankfully, he chuckles, a twinkle glinting in his eye.

Finally, I glanced at the tall female alpha that clutches her bass guitar to her chest like she’s going to try to use it to beat me to death. She’s the only one openly glaring at me like I’ve purposefully offended her in some way, even though I’ve yet to be introduced to her.

We stare at each other for a long, tense moment, before Ant laughs in that seemingly good-natured way of his, trying to lighten the mood that’s made the atmosphere suddenlyplummet a few too many degrees. “The alpha that looks like she’s just got done sucking on a lemon is Raven. She’s the boss’s older sis. Don’t let her attitude dampen your spirits. She’s like this with everyone.”

Like the boss bitch I am, I don’t even grimace at the introduction.Seriously? Mr. Madden’s fucking sister?A freaking alpha that looks like she wants to take her amp cord and wrap it around my neck to strangle me. Who the fuck pissed in her goddamned cheerios this morning?

“I fucking told Wren we don’t need a vocalist.” She practically snarls, and I give myself a pat on the back for holding back a flinch at her scathing tone. Masquerading as a beta is hard work, especially when presented with such dominant alphas like Raven Madden. My omega instincts are screaming at me to roll over and bare my neck to this alpha.

“We’ll fuckin’ rock with a vocalist, Raven. Don’t get your panties in a twist over nothing.” Ant rolls his eyes, and I’m loath to admit I’m a little impressed by how brazenly defiant he is with her. She’s scary as hell with eyes so dark, they look like blades forged with ice. I bet she’d be lethal even without her designation to back her up.

I fully expect her to drag me off the stage by my hair any second now, but all she does is twist her lips in a sneer before turning away to continue fiddling with her guitar. Ant blows out a breath beside me akin to a sigh of relief, then turns his attention back to me, that infuriating smile pasted back in place. I’d like him to stop smiling at me like that.

“Mic should be all set, Scarlett. Try not to let Raven get under your skin. She’s an asshole to everyone. Even the boss. Too much alpha and not enough omega around to settle her instincts.” He winks at me like I’ll understand the joke. I really wish he’d stop flirting with me. It’s starting to make my skin crawl.

He gestures to the mic front and center of the stage ahead, and I just give him a respectful nod. No sense pointing out that I’m pretty sure she doesn’t need a reason to hate me. Alphas don’t respect betas. And somehow, I just know she’d think even less of me if she knew what I really am.

Thankfully, no one has commented on the ugly scar that mottles the skin of my shoulder.

Probably because they haven’t been paying attention…

I take my position by the mic, pushing thoughts of pissed off alphas and all the rest of my demons out of my head. The minutes tick by, and then the lights above flare to life before the curtain pulls back. My heartbeat jumps into my throat when I look out at the mass of writhing bodies already on the dance floor. A cool trickle of sweat slips down my spine beneath the fabric of my dress at the first thrums of music behind me as the band begins the set.

Then, I close my eyes and let myself fall back into the familiar ease of music and soul. And when my mouth opens to sing, I’m flayed apart all over again as my memories consume me and drag me under, straight to hell.

3

Caito

“It’s been a goddamned month, and we already have a shipment delayed. I’m going to rip that asshole Jericho limb from limb if he doesn’t stop fucking with my business.” Wren snarls as he rages behind the VIP bar, narrowly missing running into poor Adam, who’s just trying to set up drink orders for a few of the patrons lucky enough to get onto our exclusive VIP floor.

“Stop being so nice to the prick, then. Show him there’s a new alpha in town, and tell him the Parkway doesn’t belong to him anymore.” I shrug from my stool as I nurse a glass of fancy ass whiskey I don’t even know the name of. Not that I care. I’m fuckin’ Irish. We put whatever booze we can get our hands on down our throats without second thoughts.

My best friend and pack lead freezes long enough to give me a withering glare dark enough to make the balls of a lesser man shrivel up and fall off. I’ve known Wren Madden since he was a nerdy eight year old who spent most of his time playing dungeons and dragons instead of taking responsibility for his family legacy.

It sure did piss Raven right the hell off that he’s sitting on the metaphorical throne meant for her.

So, the suck-up went and named his club after her just to ease the constant tension between them. Fat fucking chance it’ll help in the long run. She still wants to skin him alive and hang his meat suit up in her closet for shits and giggles.

That alpha is one scary bitch, no lie.

She needs a goddamned omega to help her chill the fuck out.

Hell,Ineed an omega to help me chill the fuck out.

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