The Rocker Who Shatters Me (The Rocker 9)

I turned and nodded. “Looks good. You’re about to be announced so go take your places.” The local popular rock radio host was going to introduce them and then my job for the evening would be mostly over. Mostly. Meaning I wouldn’t have a million things to do, just a few hundred thousand.

Four members of OtherWorld headed out onto the stage where a curtain hid the stage during the switchovers. Devlin stayed behind, his eyes going to my arm and staying there, as if he could still see Zander’s hand on me. “What did that motherfucker want?”

My brows lifted at the coldness of his tone. “He apologized for the bet,” I told him honestly, but didn’t tell him the rest. Devlin already looked pissed off, I didn’t want to make it worse before he took the stage. It would throw him off. Which would piss off not only the rest of the band but the fans and worse—Emmie.

Devlin relaxed a little. “Alright. But if he bothers you again, let me know.” He bent his head and brushed his lips over mine in a lingering kiss. My free hand grabbed hold of the hem of his shirt and held on tight as the kiss became deeper.

Groaning as if he were dying, Devlin broke the kiss and stepped back. One big hand lifted, cupping my jaw. His thumb rubbed over my swollen bottom lip. “You’re sleeping with me tonight.”

“Only if you keep your hands to yourself. I don’t want the entire bus to hear us having sex.” Pink filled my cheeks at the memory of everyone’s knowing looks when Devlin and I had left the sleeping area earlier that day. No one had said anything; there hadn’t been even the smallest stupid comment on what had happened. That didn’t mean they didn’t know what had happened behind that warped closed door.

If I slept in Devlin’s bed tonight, they would all know that we were definitely having sex. I couldn’t be quiet to save my own life when he was deep inside of me. Last spring when we had first started out, I hadn’t really cared about people hearing us while we had sex. Harris had had his Beats so he hadn’t heard us, and Linc and Marissa had been on another bus and hadn’t been witness to my loud orgasms.

Devlin’s grin was pure wickedness. “Sure, baby. Whatever you want.” He pressed a quick, hard kiss to my lips and finally followed the others out onto stage.

I stood there, watching him take his seat behind his drums. He caught me looking and winked before turning his attention to Axton who was making some snarky comment about the way Nik had ended the Demon’s Wings set tonight.

I snorted, knowing that Axton loved Nik like a brother almost all the time, except when he had to take the stage right after him. Moments later the lights dimmed and the fans were screaming the place down as OtherWorld was introduced. My gaze was reverted to Devlin as he clapped his drumsticks together, and Axton counted them down, before letting loose on his drums.

Watching Devlin was an erotic experience all of its own. The way he turned everything else off and let himself get lost in the beat of the song. His long, dark hair flying everywhere as he let his passion for music take over. If you ever compared Jesse Thornton’s and Devlin’s skills, you could say that Jesse was definitely the better drummer—although only marginally. But Devlin was the one you wanted to see perform live. It was a breathtaking experience that everyone should experience at least once in their lives.

“You’re drooling.”

I blinked, forcing my gaze from Devlin. Harris stood beside me, his hands thrust into the front pockets of his jeans. I shut my mouth, worried that I might have actually been drooling, but knew that he had probably just been kidding. “Hey.”

Harris grinned. “Hey, yourself.” The grin slowly faded when he saw how tired I was sure my face looked. “How’s the headache? Dad said that you had a migraine last night.”

I lifted a brow. “You actually talked to your dad today? Willingly?”

The sixteen-year-old almost clone-like version of the man I was in love with shrugged. “Sometimes. When he told me that you two were back together I figured I would try to be a little nicer to him. If he convinced you to take his sorry ass back, then I should give him another chance too.” He lifted a hand to touch his fingers to my forehead. “So how’s the head?”

I shrugged. “Not nearly as bad as it was last night.”

“Good. You need to take better care of yourself, Nat.”

I glared at him. “You need to stop talking to Linc.” My phone vibrated and I pulled it from my back pocket to find a text from Emmie. I sent a quick reply, letting her know I would take care of what she needed me to, and replaced it before making a quick note on my clipboard so that I wouldn’t forget. “I have to go.”

“Yeah, sure. You do work your magic. I’m gonna hang out here for a few songs and then head back to the bus,” Harris assured me.

“Okay. Pizza should be here in the next forty-five minutes. Do me a favor and eat a little salad with it, okay? You need something green in your diet every now and then.” I grinned as his face twisted in disgust.

“You sound like Layla, but okay, Mom. I’ll be sure and eat some leafy greenness.” His grimace turned into a teasing grin when I frowned at him.

“Smartass,” I grumbled, but couldn’t help the small smile that tried to lift my lips.

“You still love me,” he called after me, laughing.

“A little.”

One minute I was talking to Pock, the roadie in charge of Wroth’s guitars, the next my phone was getting blown up with both texts and phone calls. Frowning, I pulled my cellphone out of my back pocket and glanced down to see Code Red on my screen.

My eyes narrowed and my heart started racing as I tried to remember what a Code Red was. Emmie and I had decided on a code system since all the kids were with us on this tour. I knew that Red wasn’t good. It was beyond bad—the worst code that there was for us. But I just couldn’t remember what it was. One of the kids was hurt?

It was the most likely scenario and I took off running toward the buses, figuring I would find the source of the code faster than texting Emmie back. It only took a minute, maybe a minute and a half to reach the buses. The first thing I saw was Emmie standing outside of one of the buses, her phone to her ear while the majority of the security from the venue was standing around the bus like it was the freaking limo that carried the damn president in.

My heart turned to lead when I realized it was Shane’s bus. Was my brother okay? Was Harper? Jenna? Fuck, please don’t let it be Jenna.