Destroyed (Lost in Oblivion, #3)(55)

The bridge needed a good long vibrato, so he tried to relax his throat even as he felt that tickle nagging at him.

The song built and he held the note. As the guitars increased, he heard the break. He left his head thrown back and hope to shit that no one heard it, but he knew they did.

“All right. We’re all toast.” Deacon raised his voice and the song died. “No need to push it. We’ll need all that for the tour.”

Simon hung his head and uncapped his water.

“Awesome job today, guys. We’re getting somewhere and Margo is definitely an asset.”

Nick crossed his arms. Instead of the sneer that had been his constant companion, he shrugged. “It doesn’t suck.”

Margo was smart enough to school her features, but Simon saw her fighting the smile. Winning over Nick was a trick in itself.

As everyone filed out, there was chatter about dinner and changing clothes. He was more than ready to wash off the sweat and steam out the dryness in his throat.

“Simon?”

He turned to Nick. “Yeah?”

“Everything cool?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Nick studied his face then mirrored his crossed arms and hip shot stance. “Everyone’s tired. No big.”

“You burning to say something, son?”

Nick rocked back on his heels. “You want to go there? I was just asking a question.”

“You were dancing around a question.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Pretty Boy. I’m just checking on you. We pushed your voice today.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Nick held his hands up. “Enough said.” He walked around him and to the stairs at the back of the stage. He stopped on the second stair down.

Simon braced himself, but Nick kept going. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Shit.”

Instead of following the rest of the band, Simon headed out to the seats and the walkway above the pavilion. It was a serious hike to the railing that delineated from paid seats and the lawn. And f*ck if the lawn didn’t go on for forever.

It seemed as good a place to start the tour as any. The acoustics were certainly impressive. He couldn’t wait to hear the difference with a theater full of people.

As long as he took care of his voice during the day, he could get through two hours easily. Five hours was asking a lot for even the most seasoned musician.

He walked until he cooled down and even then he didn’t want to deal with anyone else. He circled the parking area and was rewarded with an empty bus.

Nick had already been there and gone. His dirty clothes were half in their laundry bin and half out, and there was a wet towel over the door.

His pocket buzzed.



What time?



Simple and to the point, that was Margo. He tapped the side of his phone. The park was a few miles off the beaten track. He and Deak had run around it on one of his marathon killer runs.



Fountain at the War Memorial. Midnight. No panties.



The text bubble started almost immediately.



If you get me arrested, there will be retribution.



He grinned.



Afraid?



She replied instantly again.



Fuck no.



He sprawled on the couch.



Oh, now you can swear?



I’m learning that I might like a lot of things I never used to do. See you at the memorial.



Simon closed his hand around his phone and tapped the top against his forehead. The idea of facing the pitying looks of his bandmates was far too much to deal with. He drew his feet up on the couch and blinked out.

When he woke, the bus was pitch black. He swore when he read the time on his phone. He plugged it into the charger and stumbled to the shower.

Ten minutes later, he was tucking a faded black T-shirt into an old pair of black jeans. He stuffed his feet into boots and was out of the bus and halfway down the path before he realized he should have gone with his crosstrainers.

He was going to have to hoof it the last mile to where the memorial was in the city park. But at least for the first mile and a half, he could take one of the golf carts out to the edge of the venue.

When he got to the main road of Saratoga, he stashed the cart next to an ice cream shop and took a shortcut through the side streets.

Thank you, Deacon for making me run my ass off.

He slowed as he found the back entrance to Congress Park and ducked through the trees to avoid the security cameras.

Just like old times.

How many backyards and parking lots had he sneaked through as a kid? Christ, he’d lost track after the age of fourteen. Of course by then he’d discovered beer and things had gotten blurry for specifics.

When he spotted the fountain, he slowed his pace. Moonlight shimmered off the shallow pond and the burble of the water softened the night sounds.

She stood in the center of the monument. The octagonal shape seemed even larger and more imposing now that it was just them and the night. The ivory stone glowed in the half moon’s light.

He slowly walked over the stone bridge and up the handful of stairs. Her hair was loose and rippled in the slight breeze. A dark skirt swished around her knees and a satiny blouse picked up the shafts of moonlight that teased through the columns.