Page 38 of Revelry

“Fine,” I agree. “I win and you leave me alone. You win and you get … what exactly?”

“You, Ali-Cat,” he whispers, leaning in so that his breath washes over my sensitive flesh where my shoulder meets my neck. “I get you.”

Icould have kissed the ground when we touched down at LAX. Vanessa had arranged for minders, because apparently our fans had camped at the airport. Like all celebrities flying into LA, we hadn’t been able to bypass any of that fucking huge headache. Paparazzi were everywhere. Screaming fangirls were everywhere, and everyone else stopped to wonder what the hell was going on.

We were used to fangirls, but nothing we’d seen so far had come close to this kind of hysteria. Barely dressed women hung over the barriers separating us from the fans, their tits practically falling out of their tiny T-shirts. Mothers and their teenage daughters were throwing panties at us, and while that was nothing new on stage, it was a whole other level of creep factor during daylight hours at a fucking airport.

The other guys took it in their stride. Levi, of course, played up to the cameras. Ash was the first of us to head straight for the car, and Zed had escaped the minders, allowing himself to be pawed at as he took photos with several young fans. We autographed photos and body parts while the roadies collected our gear and then we were whisked into two waiting SUVs. I wanted a shower, a real bed, and yeah, a recalcitrant redhead. Surprise, sur-fucking-prise. I wasn’t getting any of that though—once we’d all filed into the two separate cars, our drivers had taken us to a hangar more than halfway across the airport where three tour busses awaited us.

“From one moving death trap to another,” I mutter, as we pull up beside the giant black busses.

“Al-fucking-right! That’s what I’m talking about!” Zed says, jumping out of the car before the driver can even open the door.

He throws his arms wide and hugs the fucking bus, our new giant white Taint logo plastered on the side of the bus while Zed’s orange flames lick out from around it.

“Coop, come here and look at this shit,” Zed says, and I step up beside him. He throws an arm over my shoulder and shakes his head. “We fucking did it, bro.”

I nod. “Yeah, we did.” I feel this overwhelming sense of pride because despite all of the setbacks, and the countless hours we spent dreaming of this moment, dreaming that our little band could one day be as big as this, it takes a minute to process. Fame isn’t new to us, but fame on this scale? That’s an entire world away from where we’ve been.

“It’s a thing of beauty, man,” Zed says, and his voice is tight, constricted, as if he’s suppressing tears. “I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for you. You know that, right?”

“Sure you would,” I say automatically, but he looks at me and his expression is so genuine, so full of life and so fucking vulnerable all at once, I know that saying anything to counter his words won’t be the truth.

The truth is, Zed was given a gift at the same time that he was handed every fucking obstacle life could throw his way. He was a sick, weedy little kid with a junkie mum and an absentee father. He singlehandedly took care of his family, and stole whatever food he could without getting caught in order to eat.

I think my mum took pity on him and Leif. She didn’t mind the extra mouths to feed, and she miraculously always had clean clothing in their size lying around the house. Sometimes they even had the tags still on them. The Ryans had never wanted for anything, but the Atwoods? Their childhood had been tough. Zed had always been a musical genius, but he lacked discipline. If he didn’t have someone to follow, he’d likely be wasting his life under a bridge somewhere in a coked-up high.

“Thank you, brother,” he says, and tightens his arm, putting me into a headlock. I punch his kidneys several times and then he releases me and bangs on his chest, unleashing some fucking Tarzan call into the hangar.

When we step on the bus, Zed and Deb claim bunks at the back. I wait until I see where Ali is going, because no fucking way am I letting her sleep near Levi unattended. Ash moves toward the back and sets his shit down on the bunk across from Deb and Zed.

“Pick a bed, sweetheart,” Levi says. Ali tosses her bag on a bottom bunk and Levi picks the bunk opposite. “Coop, why don’t you take the other bunk at the back?”

“Nice fucking try, dickhead. I’m not leaving you alone with her,” I say. “You’re not gonna win that bet.” I take the bunk on top, grinning like an idiot when I think about it metaphorically.

“Oh, you think you are?” Levi steps closer, wedging Ali between us.

She shoves at our chests and hisses, “No one is winning any fucking bet that involves me. God, I knew this was a really bad idea. Please tell me the next three months isn’t going to be like this.”

We both watch her arse as Ali climbs into her bunk and then make out as if we weren’t thinking about all the things we wanted to do to her in that position.

“Now if you could all shut the hell up, I have some sleeping to do.” She closes the curtain and Levi and I stare at one another.

“She’s not fucking you, man,” I say. “You should give up now.”

“She’s not fucking you. I got this shit in the bag.”

Ali scoffs. “I’m not fucking either of you.”

“Next person to say fucking gets my boot shoved up their arse,” Deb says.

“You just said fucking,” Zed says, and my little sister who’s as much of a sister to him as she is to me jumps off her bunk and lays into him. Zed snags Deb around the waist in an attempt to get her to quit beating on him, but she shrieks and elbows him in the face, darting through a door at the back of the bus. Zed follows, his hands raised in the air the way we used to when we were kids. Back then nothing scared Deb more than the prospect of a horsey slap to the thigh—obviously very few things have changed.

“Zed, I swear to god I will hurt you if you horsey bite me.”

“Giddy-fucking-up, baby,” he shouts as she pushes open the door at the end of the aisle revealing a bright blue room, with a large U-shaped couch. From here I can see a fish tank lining the back wall illuminated with neon blue lights.

Deb shrieks. Ash raises his brows at me. His ear buds are in his ears and he’d climbed partway into his bunk, now he follows the sounds of my banshee sister as she squeals, “Holy shit.”

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