Finding Joy (The Joy Series) (Volume 2) (42 page)

I took my seat in the front row and waited for the rush of memories that I didn’t want - memories that I’d buried deep were about to be ripped to the surface.  After the first song tears were pooling in my eyes, tears of pity for myself.  I decided the only way I was going to survive the night was to turn it off – to just shut down.  It was actually starting to work too.  Song after song, I smiled when I felt others watching me and I clapped when everyone else clapped.  But I never heard a single note or melody – the music was lost on me.  Music has the ability to reach deep into your soul, to the places you’d forgotten, where the deepest wounds reside – and I didn’t fucking want that, I wanted to be left alone.

My entire being was numb to my surroundings until a low murmur spread through the crowd drawing my attention.  The lights lowered and a single man took the stage.  My eyes grew wide as I saw who it was, I knew I’d never be able to ignore the rhythm that came from within him that was simply amplified by a guitar for all to hear.  Clutched in his hands was my dad’s guitar, the one I’d given him just before it all came crashing down.

He set on a black stool directly in front of me, so close I could have reached out and plucked the strings myself.  But he didn’t look at me; instead he looked over me and to the crowd before finally closing his eyes to play.  His fingers slowly glided over the guitar sending the vibrations deep into my heart.  It was one of my dad’s song, only he’d changed it and made it his own.

While the world is still living

All my passion has faded away

My fingers on this guitar to stop from the ache

‘Cause she’ll never long for me

I deceived myself

She was gone from the instant I loved her

My heart still calls to her

As I try to find the power to move forward somehow

No, I won’t ever forget us

Her love was blue and made for another

A fairytale I could never measure

Full of prosperity and control

I was meager with no rise in sight

I deceived myself

She was gone from the instant I loved her

My heart still calls to her

As I try to find the power to move forward somehow

No, I won’t ever forget us

Tears of loss falling down as I try to forget

Her love was a ruse from when I first fell

None of her love, all meant for them

Cause of my pain when I think back to then

I remember her smell as it filled me full

The sound of betrayal as it spilled from her lips

Say to myself time and time again

I’ll never need her from now on

I deceived myself

She was gone from the instant I loved her

My heart still calls to her

As I try to find the power to move forward somehow

No, I won’t ever forget us

It was never meant to be

My heart knows that now

I’ve found the will to forget her now

My bequest to you ‘cause I know that’s your will

Tears were streaming down my face, tears not for myself but for this man who I’d loved and lost – tears for us.  The song ended and he disappeared from the stage.  Before I cleared the wet from my eyes he was standing in front of me, holding my dad’s guitar out to me.  I stood and moved toward him.  My fingers wrapped around the smooth maple wood of the guitar’s neck and I could feel the grooves in the frets caused by years of play. 

I had wondered if I’d ever see this man or this guitar again. I’d prayed I would but wasn’t sure my heart could handle the force of this moment.  But here they were right in front of me where I could feel their presence in my soul.

Neither of us spoke.  I smiled, he frowned and then turned to walk away.

Chapter One

Eli Blue

“Deacon! Deacon! Deacon!” the hoard of girls chanted as they pushed and shoved trying to get closer to the empty stage. 

The unmistakable sound of a Fender Stratocaster echoed through the small arena inciting the masses even further.  The crowd was like a living, breathing entity all its own that swayed and surged with every note.  As the opening guitar solo edged forward I could smell sweet excitement filling the air, unfortunately the scent was dampened by sweat and stall beer.

“C’mon, hurry your ass up!” I shouted to my friend Willow before I started weaving through the flesh hungry mob. Willow wrapped her arms around my waist trying not to get trampled.

After elbowing every single person in our path we finally reached the barricade a few feet from the stage. Ascending into sacred territory, we were immediately greeted by an oversized guard dog that wasn’t happy to see us.  He held up his hands in a silent plea for us to stop which did nothing but make me roll my eyes.  I’d never felt entitled to things in my life, however, free reign at this oversized bar was a given and the only thing I ever demanded.

I flashed the sweetest smile I could manage and was just about to inform him who my dad was when a man dressed in a business suit gestured for the guard to let us pass.  I smiled at him; he returned the gesture with a nod of his head and then immediately disappeared behind a door leading under the stage.  Realization of who I was, or actually who my dad was, flooded the guard’s face.  His eyes grew wide and reverence appeared – with maybe a touch of pity.

“That never gets old.” Willow yelled in my ear over the screams and hollers for the concert to begin.

“What?” I shouted back.

“When they finally realize you’re someone important and retreat.” She laughed.

I shook my head. “But I’m not.” I informed her.

“Yes you are Elizabeth, and it won’t be long till I’m someone special too.” She said with a wink.

I rolled my eyes at her before turning my attention back to the stage just as a single light began to rise.  The guitar solo slowly faded and was followed by the pounding of a kick drum. 
Boom, boom, boom
.  I could feel my heart mirror the slow methodical beat. 
Boom, boom, boom
. 

Anticipation built within me causing heat to cover my body and sweat to roll down the middle of my back.  Music always had a way of exciting me.  I’d grown up with it - I’d never known anything different.  Even when I’d been shielded from its harsh glare a constant rhythm still flowed through my veins.

A shadowy figure appeared at the center microphone directly in front of us.

“Oh shit there he is, there he is!” Willow screamed and jumped up and down.

I immediately burst into laughter. I’d never seen her act like this before.

“Damn girl calm down, he’s just some lead singer.  We’ve definitely met our fair share before.” I placed my hands on her shoulders trying to force her to calm down.

She pointed toward the stage, “Duke’s different, dear Lord is he different.  Just wait till you hear him sing and you’ll be ready to rip his clothes off too.”

“Fuck me Duke!” echoed from behind me.  I turned to see a leggy blonde with the brightest red lips I’d ever seen flashing her tits at the stage. 

I’d never understand how any woman thought that would help her chances at snagging a man.  Sleazy desperation was never attractive on anyone; no matter how much lipstick you tried to cover it with.

A low, sexy growl came through the sound system drawing my attention.  Standing center stage was a towering man wearing nothing but black leather pants.  His long blonde hair hung down his back and teased the crowd by lightly shielding his muscles that appeared to bulge in all the right places. 

“That’s him, that’s him.” Willow shouted and dug her nails into my upper arm.

I shrugged my shoulders, “Yea, he looks good but I need to hear him first.”

“He plays guitar too, don’t worry I wouldn’t drag you here for a singer that didn’t play too.”

I smiled at my best friend because she knew me well. Although I tried hard not to pass judgment on him before I actually heard him sing, his cliché appearance was definitely a strike against him.  He was too flashy for what I wanted.  I wanted old-fashioned musicians that played for the love of their craft.  Not someone that was just in it for the fame, money, and women.

Willow dragged me here tonight in hopes that I’d sign her favorite new band to my dad’s management company. Technically it was my management company now even though I refused to call it that.  Savage Man had become mine four years ago on my eighteenth birthday.  Before that my mother almost ran it into the ground from the day her guardianship over me granted her the right.  Luckily others within the company were able to stop her pursuit at destruction.

My dad hadn’t been a part of my life since all that glitz and glam took him from me when I was barely thirteen years old.  Not nearly old enough to know what he’d want from me now as the leader of his brainchild.

Willow’s band, The Elle’s, was the first band that I signed when I officially started working there full time last month after I graduated college.  An all girl rock band, no one could go wrong with the way these girls looked and their amount of talent.  Simply, they kicked ass.  The only problem was the estrogen-induced drama that occurred on a daily basis. But Willow had been the only constant in my life and I’d do anything to help her achieve her dreams.

“Hey are you even listening to him?” Willow whined.

“I’m listening,” I snapped.

I was definitely listening and his voice was impressive.  Clear and smooth, just like she’d said it was.

The bridge of the song played and the lead guitar picked up sending chills dancing across my skin.  I moved to my left and on to my tiptoes trying to peer over the tall stage but couldn’t see the guitar player.  His half of the stage was too dark, the only beam of light shining was focused on Duke who was busy grinding his hips in the direction of ever female he could find.

“Deacon Chastain.” Willow shouted with a huge smile.  “That’s who you’re looking for over there.  He doesn’t come out of the shadows very often.  Apparently he likes to sulk back there and be all broody.”

“He’s damn good.  Why didn’t you tell me about him?”

Her eye’s gleamed with orneriness. “Because I wanted you to discover him for yourself. Just wait there’s a hell of a lot more there to see.”

Song after song played and I still hadn’t seen more than a glimpse of Deacon through his shroud of darkness.  But the sounds that came from his guitar kept me entranced.  I’d stopped listening to the song as a whole and could only feel the vibration of his plucked guitar strings dart through my core.  They felt so familiar, like I’d never listened to anyone other than him play.

“We are Unforgiven and we hope we rocked you as hard as you rocked us tonight.  If not be sure and let us know so we can tell you to go fuck yourself.” Duke shouted and the crowd cheered. “Ladies don’t forget the line for the backstage freaky train forms to your left by the big bald security guard. As always last song of the night goes to our fearless founder and leader, Deacon.” 

I expected the crowd to go wild with more sexual favor declarations coming from the half-naked Barbies all around me, but there was only complete silence.  Duke dropped the mic with a shrill shriek and the entire room immediately went black. 

A dim light slowly beamed down from the back of the stage illuminating someone sitting on a bar stool with a black hoodie pulled over their head.  The light was behind him making him appear as a dark, menacing figure.  There was a microphone in front of him waiting to be used and a large guitar resting on his leg.  Willow pulled on my arm and moved closer.

“That’s Deacon.” She said softly into my ear. “This is their end of the show tradition - same song at the end of every show.”

She pointed back toward the stage and I turned just as a bright spotlight illuminated the front of his guitar.  I gasped.  It was my guitar, my dad’s guitar.  I knew every single inch of that guitar and this was identical, even down to the bright blue details.  I felt my heart fall to the ground and shatter into a million jagged pieces.  He was another one, another guitar player obsessed with my dad.  I found them everywhere, or more accurately
they
found me.  I think some of them had a tracking device attached to my ass with how quickly they could locate me.  I’d spent my life fighting off wannabe Kirk Savages, which never made sense to me. I’m his daughter so their path to becoming my rock God dad should not have them vying to be in my pants.

I heard the sound of Deacon slowly inhale and then let out a steady stream of air.  It didn’t sound like nervousness, more like a prayer for strength.  He lightly strummed his guitar and the sound filled my senses.  He played a slow, light melody that had tears burning my eyes.

His fingers moved over the smooth strings creating one of the most genuine sounds I’d ever heard.  Every movement of his hand was filled with the desires of his heart. I’d been around enough musicians to know that was the only way a mere human could make such a melody.  I knew in that moment that our hearts beat to the same rhythm, I could feel it – every inch of me could feel it as chills pricked at my skin and spread like wildfire.

His voice rang through the calm bar and every eye was turned, hanging on his every word.  His voice was light and rough, his words ran together and were barely clear enough to understand.

Take her now, you need her more than I

She hasn’t ever truly been mine

Strike your claim, it’s been too long

I’ve been fighting, but you’ve won

There’s no way, don’t hide your eyes

Unused, unwanted, unclaimed

If his face wasn’t covered by the darkness I knew I would see every emotion connected to his words.  Some of my earliest memories were of me sitting cross-legged in the middle of my dad’s studio intently watching the faces of musicians as they poured their heart and soul into their gift.  My dad used to say if the fans didn’t feel like they’d lived an entire lifetime in his shoes after he performed, then he needed to find another job.  “Maybe an accountant,” he’d joke, “they don’t need emotions.”