Deep (Stage Dive, #4)(76)

“Of course, miss.” He held up a hand, summoning a taxi like magic.

In no time at all my case was in the trunk and I was safely buckled in the back. That was when things went kind of wrong.

The car door opened and a large, smelly male slid in beside me. It’s a reality of these types of men, not often discussed. In the same way that cowboys stink of horse and cow crap, after a concert, rock stars reek of sweat—and lots of it. Kind of bursts the bubble somewhat, doesn’t it? But the stink alone narrowed down the cab-stealing stranger’s identity.

“Hey, Liz.”

“Vaughan?”

“How’s it going?”

I blinked. And then I blinked again, because he was still there, messing with my escape plan, damn it. “What are you doing here?”

Without so much as an as-you-please, he directed the cab driver to the stadium where Stage Dive was playing. The hundred-dollar bill he passed along with the instructions meant he got the driver’s attention. Not little old me.

“Any particular reason you’re hijacking my cab?” I asked.

“It was going to be Conn, but then, you haven’t really met him. We figured it’d freak you out less if it was me.”

“Right … right.” I nodded. “Doesn’t really answer the question.”

“Well, all of the other guys are busy playing, so it had to be one of us.” He slicked back his sweat-dampened hair with a hand and flashed me a smile. “Need you to see something.”

“What?”

“You’ll see.” He chuckled.

I chuckled along with him. “Wow. Yeah. I’m really going to miss you after I kill you and throw your body off the Brooklyn Bridge.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that. You don’t like what you see, I’ll make sure you still get to the airport with plenty of time to make your flight.”

“How do you know about that?” I leaned an elbow on the window ledge, trying to keep my cool. Not really succeeding. Outside the city lights sped by.

“Same way I was waiting for you to make your escape,” he said. “Sam.”

“Ah.” Trust the superspy security guy to be a step ahead of me. Jerk.

“Anyway, they figured I’d have a better chance at sweet talking you into coming along.”

“Did they now?” I showed him my teeth. It could have been misconstrued as a smile, but as previously noted, Vaughan was no dummy.

“Liz, please. If I didn’t think it’d be worth your while, no f*cking chance I’d have let them talk me into this. I got no desire to have you hate me.”

I sighed determinedly. “Look,” I said, putting on my best laying-down-the-law voice, “all I want right now is to get all of this behind me as fast as I possibly can. I’m sick of being here. I’m sick of the band, and rock ’n’ roll, and most of all I’m sick of smiling through it all. I do think you’re sweet, and kudos to you for trying whatever you’re trying. But I am officially over it. I am so past over it.”

“Huh,” he said, sitting back in his seat and smiling out the window at the Manhattan lights. “I guess I’m the opposite, aren’t I? It’s all over for you and you can’t wait to get away. It’s all over for me too, and I just keep trying to squeeze out another few seconds from my fifteen minutes of fame. Your strategy does sound better. Figures, what with your psychiatry degree and all.”

“Psychology,” I corrected absently. I’d forgotten I wasn’t the only one who was dealing with a breakup of sorts. “I heard you guys were finishing, but it’s hardly all over for you, is it? I’ve seen you up onstage. You’ve got it going on just fine.”

Vaughan smiled sadly. “You’ve never really seen the rock ’n’ roll life, have you?” he asked. “You just got vaulted into the penthouse without getting a taste of the industry. For every Stage Dive there’s a hundred Down Fourths. A thousand. We had one or two hits. We backed up a major band. If we’d held on to that and managed to score a major label contract, who knows? Maybe it all would have happened. Rock superstars, platinum albums, and the cover of Rolling Stone. But we couldn’t keep it together. Too many egos and pissy little arguments, to the point we’re barely f*cking talking to each other. Luke’s off to bigger and better things, sure. But for the rest of us it’s back to square one. At the end of the day, the last ten years don’t mean shit. I’m tired, Liz. Tired of sleeping in shitty hotels and always traveling and playing shows, trying to make enough to pay for just a little more studio time. I want to go home and see my family, wake up and actually know what town I’m in. I want to see if there’s a better way to do this that doesn’t cost me my sanity and f*ck with my liver every night of the week.”

“You’re right, I never thought of any of it like that.”

He scrubbed at his face with his hands, gave me that same sad smile again. “I love the music. Always have, always will. But maybe the constant push to get big enough to play stadiums isn’t for me.”

“Maybe not.”

“Maybe I’ll find a girl like you who isn’t already pregnant and is all over finding me bare-ass naked. A girl who won’t even think about asking me to cover up.”

I laughed, covering my face with my hands. “I really hope you find her, Vaughan. You’re a great guy. You deserve the best.”