The Song Remains the Same (20 page)

“Hey, if there’s anything I
do
know about Phil, it’s that you are everything he has ever wanted from this life. So what if he went to lunch with Brigid? It doesn’t mean anything. He used to tell me that you were
it
for him and that, once he found you again, he was going to grab ahold of you and never let go.”

“Where did you meet her?”

“Amsterdam. A couple of years ago. We like to hook up now and then. Nothing serious. She likes a free ride, and I like kinky sex. Nothing wrong with that.”

“Nope.”

He wagged a finger at me. “Ah…I see that secret little smile you got. You like the kinky, too. Being with Phil, I guess you’d have to.”

“Actually…I think it’s more me than him,” I stated, feeling myself go red.

Devon lost it once more, and I couldn’t help but laugh with him. It felt easy and natural to be with Devon.

Phil had fucked up a lot in his free time, and he had been able to turn over a new leaf. He’d made the decision to turn his life around, and by the sound of it, Devon had come to the same conclusion. He deserved the benefit of the doubt just as much as Phil had.

“Can I ask you for a favor?” he asked.

“That depends.”

“I need to confront Jürgen about this Camryn shit before Phil knows. Could you maybe not mention it and give me a chance to find a way to tell Phil myself?”

“No worries. I don’t plan on speaking to Phil for a while anyway.”

“Aw, don’t be too hard on him. He’d go mental if you weren’t around. I can promise you, he’d never touch another woman. The way he looks at you…”

“He could have come and found me. Even if he lost his phone, he should have let me know. I was waiting to give him a treatment, one that he’d asked for specifically.”

“Oh, well, by all means, ignore the Ragin’ Cajun.”

I snickered at the nickname, and Devon laughed at the sound. Soon, we were cracking up.

That was how Phil found us. His enormous self emerged from the front of our tour bus, and the look on his face made Devon stop mid laugh.

“Don’t let him break my face, Doc,” Devon whispered as Phil thundered his way over to us. “I saw what happened to Jason—”

“Phil!”

To all of our surprise, Sheri came barreling out behind him, and he slowed enough for her to get around him to face him where—

Crack!

She slapped the almighty out of his face.

My jaw dropped.

Devon gasped, “Oh, shit!”

“You fucking stupid piece of shit!” screeched Sheri. “
Brigid?
Seriously? You went to fucking lunch with
that
cow?”

“Oh my God…” I whispered.

“I guess I’m not looking so bad now since my main squeeze is a source of great irritation around here,” said Devon.

“Calm down, Sher.” Phil’s deep voice spread out like a balm.

“The fuck I will! Did you ever stop to think how this
looks
? The fucking calls I’ve been getting about you and Devon having a long-standing fight over a girl is back, and it’s stating Brigid is the one between you two!”

“She’s not.”

“I know that!”
she screamed. “But did you at all consider your fucking
fiancée
before you traipsed into town for a cozy bite to eat with your ex and Devon’s current affair? Pictures of the two of you are circulating the Internet, and journalists are calling all over the place, wanting to interview anyone and everyone who knows what’s up with you, Devon, and Brigid!”

“So? Nothing happened, Sheri. We had burgers.”

“Fuck
you
, Phil! How do you think Kenna’s going to like hearing about this?”

He looked over at me, staring hard, and Sheri followed his line of vision. The woman’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, a wealth of pity in them.

“Oh, honey…” she said, taking a step toward me.

Now, I just wanted to cry.

“In my mind, I’m giving you a hug, Doc,” Devon whispered.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. On legs that suddenly felt shaky, I made my way over to them. Phil’s eyes gave me no clue as to what he was thinking. I dug his phone out of my pocket and held it up for him. Slowly, he reached out, and I placed it in his hand, making sure not to let our skin come into contact.

“You forgot your appointment with me at one o’clock,” I said softly, pitching my voice low to control the sobs threatening to explode out of me.

Phil closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. When he opened them again, I saw my own pain staring back at me.

“You left that in Devon’s bus.”

“Baby Girl—”

I shook my head. “Hope your lunch was worth it.”

“I’m heading into the festival,” I announced as I got on the bus.

Lili and Alys jumped to their feet and grabbed their bags, and the three of us ran off the bus in record time.

“Kenna!”

It was hard not to laugh when all three of us flipped that voice the bird without a backward glance as we picked up the pace. Big boot steps thundered the pavement, and Phil careened around us. We merely parted and walked around him.

“Baby Girl, fuckin’ stop for a fuckin’ minute!”

The hell I would.

“Kenna!” he barked. “This ain’t funny!”

I spun around and whacked him hard over his chest tattoo. “No! It
ain’t
! Now, fuck off!”

He grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips before I could yank it out of his grip.

Lili ran up, kicked him in the shin, and danced out of reach.

“Ow!
Shit,
Pygmy—”

“Fuck you, douche face!” she yelled at him.

“
Douche face
?” he echoed, bending over and rubbing his shin. “Kenna, you
know
nothin’ happened! It was fuckin’ burgers and me tellin’ her how I am fuckin’ in love with you—”

“I don’t give a shit!” I hissed. “It has wrong smeared all over it! I’m done talking to you,” I snapped, turning on my heel.

Phil grabbed my arm. “Kenna, seriously—”

I spun back around.

Crack!

My palm connected to the already blazing cheek from Sheri’s earlier slap.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” he bellowed, cupping his hand to his face.

Phil’s eyes bulged with the pain, and I got a healthy dose of satisfaction out of it. His grip on me loosened, and I stomped away.

“Try it again, and I’ll sic Alys on you, douche face!” I called over my shoulder.

Lili’s tinkling laughter warmed my heart, and the three of us made our way into the fairgrounds. Once through security, I switched off the volume on my phone after seeing I already had three missed texts from Douche Face—I’d changed the name in the phone to that, too—but I refused to look at them.

“What should we do then?” asked Alys.

“Alcohol. I say, we park it, get wasted, and watch some fucking sets.”

Three expensive mega beers later, we found a grassy little spot and pulled out a spliff. Well secured within groups of other pot smokers, we blended in and relaxed, tucking our backstage passes beneath our shirts.

I told my girls everything.

“I knew it!” stated Lili after I’d spilled the beans on Camryn. “I knew there was something off about that woman.”

Alys looked repulsed. “Why though? What did she have to gain from something like that?”

“Who knows? Apparently, Jürgen is
the
biggest douche face of all douche faces.”

“Why does Devon put up with that shit?” asked Lili.

I shrugged, keeping his secret safe for now.

“What are you going to do about Phil?” Alys asked quietly.

“I have no fucking clue. I’m
so
pissed at him right now. I mean, if I had gone out to lunch with Brian and left my phone behind, he’d go fucking apoplectic. And I’m not the only one he pissed off! Get this!”

I told them how Sheri had charged him, slapped the shit out of him, and yelled at him.

“So, now, I get to see photos of them plastered in
Metalhead News
or some such shit! I mean, the guy who put four carats on my finger actually went out with his ex!” I fumed. “No. He can’t get away free and easy with this. I think I might explode if he tries to touch me again. Fuck.”

We spent the whole day drinking, smoking, eating the fast food provided, moving around to see the bands playing. It was like what we normally would have done if we were simply attending Twisted Festivus.

X rang Alys, and she walked away to take the call. We could see her arguing with her man, and she returned to us looking thunderous.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“He wanted me to come back, and I said no. I think he’s really mad at Phil now.”

Inwardly, I groaned. Sneaking my own phone out, I saw seventeen missed calls and twenty-three text messages.

“Damn it,” I grumped. I quickly read the most recent one.

Douche Face: Please answer the phone. I love you. I need to know you are okay.

Snapping the phone shut, I stowed it in my back pocket and watched Yellow Canon Blitz—
who fucking comes up with these band names?
—put on a hell of a show.

Hours later, Cornered Cannibal were minutes away from taking the stage. Lili returned with three more beers, and we busted out another spliff.

Devon ended up coming out with no makeup, his glorious beauty blazing for the world to see. We were far enough away from the stage that it should’ve been hard to tell, but he was shining with something more than his usual talent. He looked freer, almost at peace.

He performed a solo that lasted nine minutes and put Budokan to shame. I wasn’t the only one weeping for him. The whole place exploded when he finished. Glancing at my two best friends, I saw their eyes shimmering, too.

Wow
, Lili mouthed at me when our eyes met.

Too fucking right
.

For the first time in a while, the three of us got to see Our Boys just like everyone else saw them. Buzzing with beer, we cried out all the words to every song they played.

In the end, we had a surprise coming. Connor pulled out a violin, a few roadies strapped on instruments, and they ended the show with “Kashmir
.
”

Phil sang it to rival Devon’s solo.

I was beyond touched…yet not quite touched enough.

When Alys, Lili, and me finally arrived back at the bus, most of the other bands, including Cornered Cannibal, had headed out for the next venue.

Phil was leaning against the bus, arms folded across his chest. When he spotted us through the darkness, his body relaxed. Freshly showered, dressed in sweatpants and an old T-shirt, he looked good enough to eat.

“Kenna—” He stopped when he saw the look in Lili’s eyes. “Don’t fuckin’ think about it, Pygmy. I’ll fuckin’ toss your ass back to Colombia.”

Lili stomped onto the bus, and Alys followed, glaring furiously at him. He glared right back.

But when he turned to face me once more, his eyes softened. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“I am. Really sorry. I should’ve told you, and I had every intention of doin’ so. I went to call you, and my phone was missin’. It ain’t right. I know. I should’ve found you and let you know—”