Devoured: A Novel(40)

The crowd’s going crazy at this point, wondering what’s up, if the band is calling it quits early but then the lead singer saunters back up to the microphone. He’s grinning and his voice is shaking as he gives Lucas the only introduction someone like him needs: “It’s the real Lucas-f*cking-Wolfe, people!”

For a moment, everyone in the audience is utterly unclear of what’s going on and they’re hushed, murmuring among themselves. But as Lucas strides across stage, taking the lead’s guitar and bowing his head graciously, the silence turns from confused to stunned. Lucas calls out “All Over You” and then the hell-raising guitar intro begins.

Nicky, the giant grumpy doorman, and another bouncer who Jessica says keeps watch over the bar make their way to the stage, but none of Lucas’s fans tries to bum rush him or anything. Everyone’s too entranced by the music, myself included.

I’m so spellbound that it takes me a moment to realize that at certain lines of the song, Lucas’s eyes drag to the far left of the stage, seeking me out. Making me feel like I’m the only person in this crowded bar. When I grind my teeth together in frustration, Lucas’s eyes narrow a fraction and he shakes his head slowly to each side.

Drawing in a deep breath, I do the only other thing I can do. I sing along with the rest of the crowd. I ignore the wetness that has built up in the lacy black panties I’m wearing.

Panties that Lucas himself had touched and laid out for me to put on.





CHAPTER TWELVE





There are at least twenty YouTube videos of Lucas’s performance circulating the Internet by time I wake up at 7am on the dot the next morning. There are already—and I shit you not—death threats about the “red-headed cunt” Lucas was serenading on one of the Your Toxic Sequel fan sites.

And I find out about all of this because Tori sends me links, messages, and enough texts to make me want to turn off my phone.

Finally, I just suck it up and answer. It’s 5:30am in California. “There are pictures of you with Lucas Wolfe online,” she says in a monotone voice. “Why are there pictures of you with Lucas Wolfe on the Internet?”

“I-I . . .” I’m stuttering ridiculously, staring down in horror at my computer screen at the video of Lucas performing, and wondering who else has seen these videos. You know, besides every rabid Lucas Wolfe fan. For once I feel fortunate that Tomas, my boss, is such a media snob and refuses to read gossip magazines. I don’t need this getting back to him—not when I’m supposed to be here in Nashville to take care of my Gram. Not when—

I feel a sinking feeling in my chest, and I ball my hand into a fist, massaging it over my heart. What if my grandmother sees this? It would literally break her heart.

“Sienna, talk to me,” Tori says pleadingly.

“I . . . I work for him,” I admit.

And just as I expect, she starts freaking out. She starts doing the exact thing that made me avoid telling her about my deal with Lucas in the first place. “Since when? Why? Sienna . . . he’s trying to take your grandmother’s goddamn house away. How could you work for him? Why would you work for hi—”

“For the love of God, shut up for just one second so I can think,” I snap. I hear a sharp gasp for air on the other end, and I immediately feel horrible for barking at her. In all the time that I’ve known Tori, I’ve never once raised my voice at her.

I’ve never spoke to anyone like that besides Lucas Wolfe.

“Tori . . . I’m sorry,” I whisper.

She sounds dazed when she speaks. “I’m actually hovering somewhere between really f*cking irritated you told me to shut up and being impressed. Sienna, what’s really going on? Please . . . I’m your best friend.”

I cry as I tell her. I leave nothing out except for Lucas’s sexual habits, and when I’m done all she’s able to say is “Wow” over and over and over again until I tell her that she’s giving me a headache.

“You’ve got to be the most . . . selfless and ridiculously awesome person I know. To be doing something like that with someone like him.”

I don’t like the way her tone implies that he’s a bad person. Hell, I don’t like the way I’m so willing to jump to his defense, but I do it anyway. “He’s not all bad,” I say, my voice sounding totally convincing.

“Oh. My. God.”

Thinking that there’s been a new article put out about me and Lucas, I frantically refresh Google news search I have open on my screen. “What? What?”