Dirty (Dive Bar #1)(77)

“Cover me.” A hand suddenly gripped my arm. A male voice coming from directly behind me. “Good job. What’s your name?”

“Is this a robbery or something?” I asked, not sure whether to be perplexed or afraid.

The mystery man laughed. “Fuck no. Got more money than I can spend in this lifetime. What’s your name?”

“Lydia.”

“Okay, Lydia. You’re doing great.”

“Thanks.” I chanced a glance over my shoulder.

“Don’t look at me!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Despite it being nearly nine at night, the dude wore sunglasses. His face was mostly obscured by a trucker’s hat. Strands of long blond hair had escaped the cap, however, hanging down past his shoulder. Bright green T-shirt. Other than that, I had nothing. If I had to describe him to the police, there wouldn’t be much to go on, dammit. “I won’t do it again.”

“I should hope not. Sheesh, Lydia,” he said, tone exasperated. “I need you to work with me here. Just act normal. Walk toward the bar like nothing weird is going on at all, all right?”

“All right.”

“Let’s go.”

With slow measured steps we moved toward the bar. It took me a while to catch Vaughan’s eye. I tried to communicate several things to him with my look. First, I was not happy. Second, whoever stood behind me was the definite cause of this unhappiness. His eyes widened, then his gaze jumped to the person steering me toward the big blond bartender.

“You trying to be in disguise or what?” Vaughan asked, voice oddly calm. Instead of reaching for a shotgun or something, he continued pouring a beer.

“Yes,” said the maniac, stepping out from behind me. “Genius, isn’t it?’

Vaughan leisurely checked him out then shook his head. “You’re a f*cking idiot. Get your hand off Lydia, you’re freaking her out.”

“I’ll have you know, Lydia and I are the best of friends. She thinks my costume is awesome,” the maniac falsely declared. “Don’t you, Lydia?”

“I’m allowed to look at you now?” I asked.

“Knock yourself out,” the man said, turning to Vaughan, his voice ecstatic. “This is my favorite part, when they get all excited about me.”

“Mm-hmm.”

The maniac gave me a broad grin.

Whoever he was, he certainly wasn’t afraid of loud colors or stating his musical preferences. He wore a fluorescent green T-shirt with a large picture of Malcolm Ericson from Stage Dive on the front, and a matching fluorescent pink hat. “Mal for President” had been embroidered on the hat. Guess he really loved the drummer from Stage Dive. A lot.

“Wow.” I gave Vaughan side-eyes.

He burst out laughing. “She doesn’t recognize you.”

“Duh. She’s not supposed to recognize me, I’m in disguise.” The maniac pouted and took a seat at the bar. “And give me that beer.”

“Bullshit.” Vaughan kept right on laughing, setting the beer on the bar as ordered. “You wanted her to know who you were, you f*cking show pony.”

The man declined to answer, instead drinking the beer.

“Babe,” said Vaughan, smiling. “This is Mal Ericson.”

Mal raised a hand in salute.

“From Stage Dive?” I asked, just to be sure.

“Yep,” said Mal. “So … babe, huh? Don’t recall you having a babe before, V-man. How interesting.”

“Not interesting.” Vaughan started pouring another beer. “None of your business.”

“I’d like to buy, babe, a beer.” He patted the bar stool beside him. “Sit, Lydia. Let us become friends. Tell your Uncle Mal everything.”

“Don’t tell him anything,” countered Vaughan, brows drawn down. “Biggest f*cking meddler I ever met. Always got to be sticking his nose into everyone else’s business. And she’s working.”

“I’d love a drink,” I told Mal, taking the proffered seat. “Dinner’s basically over, Masa’s just clearing the last couple of tables now. A soda and lime, please, bartender.”

“You go, babe.” Mal started clicking his fingers. “He’s not the boss of you.”

“Who the hell let him in here?” grumped a female voice.

For the second time tonight, I got accosted from behind. This time, however, it was welcome. Nell gave me quick hug before leaning against the bar. “Mal.”

“Nell.” The drummer removed his sunglasses, throwing them aside along with his hat. Golden blond hair flowed over his shoulders. Of course, with him revealed in all his glory, there could be no question about his identity. Stage Dive was only one of the biggest bands in the world.

I stared, starstruck.

“Nell, Nell, Nell. Still secretly longing for me, I see.” Mal sighed. “You poor pathetic sap.”

“Aw. I think it’s wonderful that you’re so removed from reality, Malcolm. Don’t let anybody tell you differently.”

He chuckled. “Lydia, did she tell you how when we were kids, she always used to chase after me when we played catch and kiss? Every single time. Not that I minded having an older girl hot on my trail. But shit, running after me every single day. It got a little old.”