Rise (Rock God 1)

Screaming, stomping, it all vibrates through my chest. Nuke’s already on stage, the roar alerting me. As I turn, I see her. Christ, she can’t be real. My eyes travel up and down her body.

Gia Fontaine knows how to own a room as she walks straight up to me in a red slip of a dress, her hair up, allowing me to feast on her stunning face.

Hunger.

I lift her chin so I can see those eyes of hers. “I’ve been waiting for you.” I don’t yell. It’s not necessary. Even with the noise, Gia gets it.

“I’m here.”

“Granger? Man, you ready?” BT hands me my ear monitor, though my eyes never leave hers.

I want to fuck her, bury myself so deep inside her that we stay locked away for days. Grinning, I put the piece in my ear and walk out onto the stage.

The crowd erupts, like it’s just been recharged.

Not gonna lie. I love it.

“Merry fucking Christmas, Chicagoooo.” And like I’m some fucking god, my followers scream and feed me with their love.

I close my eyes and open them as I give them what they want.

Me. All of me.

The lights zigzag into lasers and smoke fills the stage.

I sing the words that at one time seemed powerful but now feel like a lie. Empty words that rhymed. What I feel now is real: alive like a spark that ignites and bursts into flame. My arms tingle and my chest burns.

My goddess.

My muse.

This hunger that I have for her might never leave me, but tonight I’m fucking feasting.

GIA

Past – Eighteen years old

Chicago, Illinois

I can’t look away. He owns the stage, ensnaring me with his voice. I reach for my camera. Tonight is different and I want to capture every moment of him.

Rhys is different. I look through my lens and zoom in so that all I see is him as he does what only a handful ever can.

He loves them. It’s in every note, every word he sings.

This. His music: that’s his real love and he adores it. My body feels as if I might have a fever even though it’s freezing outside.

“Ms. Fontaine.” I bring my camera down slightly so I can turn to Rafe, but before he can spew anymore of his bullshit, I snap numerous shots.

“Are you done?”

“With you? Yes.” I turn back to the stage. BT walks up with headphones for both me and Rafe, and Rafe, of course, waves his off.

“I’m not the enemy, Gia. In fact, if these last couple of performances were brought on because of you…”

I turn to him. “An hour ago, you bought me a plane ticket,” I yell over Nuke’s drums. It’s so weird that Rafe never seems to yell but you can always hear him.

“Yes. Keep that.” He brings out his phone and starts typing. I guess he’s done. Such a shame he’s a complete ass. He is fucking hot in his own way.

Not hot like Rhys, but hot. I see him with a ton of women, but same as the boys in the band, he seems to have a new one at every stop.

“Why do I need to keep the ticket?” And I want to kick myself for playing right into his game. God Gia, you’re slipping. Never show weakness.

“For when all this comes to a brutal and ugly end.” He motions with his phone to Rhys.

I straighten my shoulders. “And what if it doesn’t? What if Rhys and I are actually happy?”

He looks up from his phone, his blue eyes pinning me to the floor.

“This will end. You will not be able to live the life that he needs, and he’ll not be the man you need.”

If he had slapped me, I think I would have liked it better. No matter what Rafe has achieved or whatever his goal is tonight, those might be mere words, but they sting, and my chest hurts as if I’m already preparing myself.

Bad juju.

“I guess we’ll see,” I say and aim my camera at the crowd, completely putting up a mental shield against this man. He’s testing me, waiting to see if I’ll falter, or at least stumble.

“Yes, hold on to that ticket.” I don’t see him walk away but know he’s gone by the way my body relaxes.

“Fucking asshole.”

My eyes pass over the horde of groupies drinking with the roadies. It’s a whole family in a fucked-up way.

These people spend more time together than they do with their spouses. I look back at the stage and my heart skips a beat.

He stands with a spotlight on him, and I reach for my chest as he sings my favorite song of theirs. It’s a ballad and Rhys’s gravelly voice makes goose bumps travel down my arms and my legs.

As he lets the words flow out of him, not just singing them, but feeling them, he’s breathtaking. Cash walks up and takes over as he lets his bass sing.