The Song Remains the Same (33 page)

BOOK: The Song Remains the Same
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The tour bus pulled into the campgrounds for the Seattle venue, and Devon’s bus pulled into the space right next to ours.

He and the guys had formed some bizarre alliance. After the show in New Orleans, Phil and Devon had sat down with the rest of NOLA’s Junk. They’d laid everything out there, and the guys had welcomed Devon back into the fold.

Cornered Cannibal hadn’t shown up yet. It was in the best interests of everyone involved to pretend there wasn’t anything going on between NOLA’s Junk and Devon GianFranco.

Lewis and I made a huge breakfast after the bus had parked.

“Why don’t we bring some food over to Devon?” I asked Phil as we finished.

Phil smiled sweetly. “Sure.”

I piled a Tupperware full of scrambled eggs, bacon, waffles, and fruit salad, and then we headed over to Devon’s bus. Phil draped his arm around my shoulders and knocked on the door.

There was the sound of scuffling and laughter, and then a mussed-up Devon answered the door. Minus a shirt and shoes, he stood there with his jeans unbuttoned.

Button fly. Nice
.

Pervert that I was, my eyes zeroed in on his black happy trail and followed that sucker into his pants. Since it was a cloudy day, I’d left my sunglasses on the bus, and both Devon and Phil busted me.


Woman
!” barked Phil. The hand attached to the arm draped around my shoulders came up and clapped over my eyes. “Dude! What the fuck?” he snapped at Devon.

The sound of a woman giggling came from inside the bus.

I smirked. “Knock it off, Phil.”

“You were totally checkin’ his ass out!”

“I don’t think it was my ass she was looking at, man.”

Snorting with laughter, I wiggled out of Phil’s blindfold. “We brought you some breakfast.”

Devon, under the evil glare of Phil, hastily buttoned up his jeans, and a redhead tripped off the bus.

“Thanks for the, um…ride, Devon.”

Devon’s pretty face split into a smile as I handed him the Tupperware. “Anytime, Sophie.”

Sophie was a fucking
knockout
. Even Phil did a double take, which I chose to ignore since I had totally been checking out Devon, and then he craned his neck to watch her sweet rear end walk away.

“Still ain’t as awesome as yours,” he said to me as she turned behind the crew bus and disappeared from view.

“True,” said Devon, giving me a wink and a smirk.

“Fuck you, douche!” Phil hissed, snatching back the Tupperware. “You can fuckin’ starve!”

I took the Tupperware out of his hands and handed it back to Devon.

“You guys want to come in for some coffee?”

“Sure,” I replied.

“No,” snapped Phil.

We headed into Devon’s bus, and Phil sniffed the air as Devon opened the coffee canister.

“Fuckin’ stinks of sex and shame in here,” he grunted.

“Pfft. Can’t imagine what
your
bus stinks of then.”

“Weed and sex. No shame,” Phil promptly answered.

Devon and I cracked up. He placed three mugs of coffee on the table and sat down across from us, digging into his breakfast.

“Fuck, this is good,” he grunted, eloquent European leaving in the face of decent food.

“Don’t get used to it,” grumped Phil. “Can’t you put on a shirt or somethin’?”

“I’m in my own fucking bus! I’ll
not wear
whatever the fuck I want!”

“There’s a fuckin’ woman here!”

“I know! And she’s the only one not giving a fuck!”

I had to bite my lip to try to keep the smile off my face. Phil busted me and scowled.

“What?” I snapped at him.

“Quit starin’ at him.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Were.”

“Wasn’t.”

“Were.”

“Shit, are you two always like this?” Devon asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“No,” grumped Phil.

“You two must have some pretty awesome sex.”

“Yes,” Phil and I replied in unison.

“At least that’s working out for you.” Devon laughed. “Still set up at the Fairmont?”

“Yeah. Where are the Cannibals staying?”

“Last I heard, they were gonna head straight to Portland and stay there until the next show.”

“Sweet. We won’t have to see those fuckers at all. You stayin’ with us then?”

Devon nodded. “Better company and all that. I’m worried about Brigid though.”

My stomach knotted at the sound of that woman’s name, but Devon couldn’t tell it bugged me. Phil, on the other hand, gently squeezed my thigh, letting me know he knew I was uncomfortable.

“How come?” asked Phil.

“I think she’s using again. She looks like shit when she’s allowed out of the bus—”

“Allowed?”
I raged. “She needs
permission
to leave the fucking bus?”

Devon nodded again, chewing a hefty mouthful of waffle. Taking a sip of coffee, he then elaborated, “Yeah. She’s on the bottom of the totem pole, so to speak, so she’s Jürgen’s little whatever he needs her to be. It’s not like this is her first time touring with me. She knew better than to get involved with them. She’s in over her head, and I don’t know what to do for her. I tried to let her know that she’s welcome to come and stay with me—just as friends, you know? But…she wouldn’t hear me. I could see it in her eyes though. I think they’re drugging her.”

“What? Like against her will?” I asked.

“No. They’re fucking evil—don’t get me wrong—but their, um…victims…they have to be willing. Legal recriminations and all that. Everyone in their entourage has to sign a disclosure agreement and contract.”

Phil nodded because, in fact, he really did know.

Then, I found myself wondering,
Just how much does Phil fucking know? Did he participate with the Cannibals in their lifestyle at one point?

“So, you think she’s on heroin again?” I asked, attempting to put the raunchy images of Phil engaged in orgies out of my mind.

“Yeah. I don’t want to believe it, but…it’s the only thing I can think of that would keep her with them at this point.”

“I think she’s been using since New Orleans,” I said. “I saw her when Gordy fucked up his foot, and she looked as though she was on something. I’ve worked with addicts, and she was showing signs of recent opioid use. She started wearing long-sleeved shirts more recently, so she might be upping her dosage and going for bigger veins.”

Guilt crossed Devon’s features, and he closed his eyes.

“Hey, this ain’t your fault, man,” said Phil, dropping a huge paw on Devon’s shoulder from across the table.

“Yes, it is. I brought her here.”

“You couldn’t have predicted that this would happen,” I said. “So…what do you need from us?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want to do an intervention? Should we kidnap her from the Cannibals?”

Devon smiled sadly. “And here I thought you hated her.”

“I’m a doctor. She’s a person in need of help. Personal feelings have nothing to do with saving a life. I’m trained and equipped to help someone go through withdrawals. I might need to get a few things, but I don’t think it’d be too much of a hassle. Just some IV fluids with minerals and vitamins.”

“That’s…that’s really nice of you.”

“I know what that does to a person, Devon. What I’ve seen addicts go through, I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, and she’s number one on that list. So…just let me know, okay?”

Phil squeezed my thigh again, and I sensed a rush of gratitude flood from him into me. He had truly cared about her, probably still did on some level. I found that it didn’t bother me so much. I was confident with our relationship, with my role in his life. Whoever Brigid had once been to him didn’t matter anymore.

“You wanna ride with us to the Fairmont?” Phil asked Devon.

“Sure.”

“Cool. We leave in about half an hour.”

“Sounds good.”

Phil looked around the bus while Devon scarfed down his breakfast. “Dude, is it only you and the driver on the bus?”

Devon shook his head. “I got a couple of roadies with me. They’re out and about somewhere. Why?”

“It’s fuckin’ quiet.”

Devon nodded. “I know. I like it.”

“I guess so, damn. Are they your guys or the Cannibals’?”

“Mine. But they get on with the rest of the crew. They’re good at not talking shit, too. Not that anything really goes on in here. I’m mostly just writing or playing.”

“Or bangin’ redheads.”

Devon grinned. “Yeah. That, too. What’s your hair color anyway, Kenna?”

Phil pushed me out of the booth. “Come on. He needs more coffee before he can be considered fuckin’ civilized.”

“So says the Ragin’ Cajun,” Devon drawled.

I laughed lightly. “Strawberry-blonde?”

“Hmm…it’s prettier than that,” he replied with a wink.

“I’m gonna stab you in the eye with your fuckin’ fork if you keep flirtin’ with my woman, GianFranco.”

Devon sighed. “I know. Just don’t touch the hands, okay?”

“Quit it!” snapped Phil.

“But she’s so cute!” cried Devon in mock misery. “I mean,
look
at her!”

“I’m the only one
allowed
to, motherfucker!”

“See you in half an hour, Devon,” I said, heading for the door.

“Sure thing, Doctor Sexy.”

Phil snagged a waffle and shoved it into Devon’s face, rubbing it in good.

“Augh!”

“You can fuckin’
walk
to Fairmont, douche!”

“Phil, you’re such an ass sometimes.” I laughed as we stepped down onto the packed earth.

“I’m
your
ass, so get used to it,” he grumped. He huffed under his breath. “Lookin’ at you like he wanted to eat you. Only
I
get to eat you.”

I let out some deep-bellied laughter.

“Well, it’s true!”

“So? Like you said, only
you
get me, so why bother with the pissing contest?”

“Because…” he said softly as he stopped walking. We were only a few steps away from our bus. “Because he
really
likes you and respects you, and for Devon, that’s fuckin’ huge. The night at the House of Blues, you impressed him, and that’s
on top
of bein’ the type of woman he goes for.”

“So?”

“So…he’s better lookin’ than me. He’s got more talent in his little finger than all five of us combined—”

“That’s utter bullshit.”

“He’s fuckin’ loaded. And he’s got that hot-accent thing goin’ for him while he accuses me of bein’ inarticulate.”

“I like your accent better,” I said with a smile. “And the voice that backs it up—hold up. Are you
insecure
over Devon?”

“I know you think he’s attractive, and you were right about his face goin’ all holy at Budokan. Compared to him, I fall pretty fuckin’ short, Kenna.”

“No, you don’t. I don’t believe this. There’s no way you can honestly think I would ever choose anyone over you, Phil.”

“You get insecure. Why not me?”

“Because you’re
Phil fucking Deveraux
! You’ve been my hero, my fucking legend-crush, since I was sixteen years old! That’s
eight years
of fantasizing and one year of dating! I mean,
really
, you are the most beautiful, amazing, wonderful, awesome, and the sexiest guy in the history of ever. Sure, GianFranco is attractive, but you…you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. Ever. And
forever
,” I said, holding up my glittering ring finger. “Besides, I don’t think he’s insane enough for me.”

He cracked a smile at that. “Oh, yeah? Why do you say that?”

“I can’t picture him getting my name tattooed on him three times or getting my dental imprints on his inner thigh.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. You need a bit of crazy in your life to make you feel balanced.”

Slipping my arms around his narrow waist, I hugged him tight. “Seriously…there’s no comparison. You gonna get
nekkid
for me when we get to the hotel?” I asked.

“Too fuckin’ right I am. We’re gonna sex-scream the fuckin’ walls down.”

“Yeah…you’ve got a magic dick, babe. I wouldn’t trade
that
for anything.”

He dropped a kiss on top of my head. “I know. After fuckin’ me, anythin’ else would have no sort of impact.”

“True. My poor crotch has been stretched to the point where any other man would think he’s pounding himself into a tube sock.”

“Oh my God,” he gasped. He busted into wheezing laughs for a few minutes. Sobering up, he grabbed my face and planted soft kisses on my lips, cheeks, and nose.

Sighing with contentment, I fully leaned into him. “You know, the physical attraction is only the tip of the iceberg between us, right?” I asked.

“Yeah. But it’s nice to hear you tell me how fuckin’ hot you think I am anyway.”

“You
know
you’re hot!” I laughed.

“I know I’m the lead singer of a band, and women dig that.”

“You’re so full of shit, Phil. No wonder your eyes are brown.”

As we were dropped off in front of the colonnaded façade of the Fairmont Olympic Hotel, I had another healthy glimpse of the sort of lifestyle I was simply unaccustomed to. My jaw hung open as we all exited the van and headed up the steps.

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