Her Forbidden Hero (18 page)

He dropped his hand and stepped back. “Okay. I’ll talk to you later, then.”

She finally chanced looking at him.

He smiled and left the room.

Alyssa released a shaky breath.

The rest of her shift dragged and raced by in turns, depending upon how she was feeling moment by moment about the coming conversation. At least she’d had the distraction of being assigned as a waitress to the green room in the early part of her shift. There were five guys in the band, and they mostly kept her running to the bar with drink orders. She was glad when showtime finally arrived, though—their running string of pet names and innuendos had gone from being cute and fun to downright sleazy. Van would be thrilled to learn her opinion of them had dropped precipitously.

Unfortunately, they weren’t done with her. After the show, instead of clearing out within an hour like most of the bands did, they decided to hang around to party, specifically requesting Alyssa and Tori to wait on them.

Alyssa arrived with their third round of the night about the time she would’ve usually been closing down the room. Three of the band members were sprawled on the couches and two had pulled chairs over around the coffee table where she set their drinks. The drummer had a girl on his lap who was seemingly trying to devour his mouth with hers. And one of the guitarists had an enthusiastic fan plastered to his side on the couch.

She reached between the couch and one of the chairs to clear away some of the empties. A hand stroked up the back of her thigh. Alyssa gasped and whirled on the guy—the lead singer, Trent—who was sitting in the chair with a smug smile on his face.

“Can I help you?” she asked, immediately regretting her choice of words.

His eyes laughed at her. “Mm-hmm. Hang out with us.”

“Thanks, but I can’t.”

He traced his goatee with his fingers. Before tonight, she’d found him attractive. But now he wore an expression that communicated his confidence in getting his way with her, and it was
so
not attractive. “I’m sure Pete won’t mind,” he said. “He’s always very
accommodating
for us.”

Ew. Seriously? Alyssa smacked down all the sarcastic comments she wanted to say and reminded herself he was an important customer. “Yeah. Pete is great, isn’t he? But I just can’t.” She stepped out of his arm’s reach. “Enjoy your drinks.”

His gaze narrowed and he pressed his lips into a line. “We’ll have a couple orders of wings. Right away.”

She forced a smile. “Coming right up.”

The kitchen staff was as grumpy as she was about the order. Alyssa almost asked Eric to deliver the food, but she didn’t want to do anything to embarrass Pete or Whiskey’s.

“How you making out in there?” he asked as he handed her a platter with one order of each type of wings they offered.

“It’s fine. They’re kinda assholes, though.”

Eric grinned.

“I heard that,” Van yelled from the back.

Alyssa laughed. “I stand corrected and bow to your fount of wisdom,” she called.

He appeared in the doorway to the back room. “You know, if only more people thought that way, the world would be a better place.” He disappeared again.

She rolled her eyes and smiled at Eric. “Wish me luck.”

“Hey. There you are,” Marco said, leaning in the kitchen door. The position stretched the black T-shirt across his chest, emphasizing the sculpted muscle underneath.

“Yeah. Sorry. I’m going to be a while.” She gestured to the tray and pretended it wasn’t awkward to be standing between Marco and Eric at that moment.

“I’ll hang out, then.”

“It’s all right. I don’t know how long I’m going to be.” She stepped through the door as he held it open for her.

He walked beside her as far as the lounge. “Doesn’t matter.”

She paused. “Really. We can do this another—”

“I’ll wait.” His big hand cupped her face.

Alyssa’s stomach fluttered at the intensity of his gaze. It was everything she could do to not beg for more of his touch. “I better get this in there.”

“Okay. Find me when you’re done.”

She left Marco in the lounge and fished in her pocket for her phone. How late was it, anyway? But her pockets were empty. Where the heck had she put her phone? She hated being without it in case Brady tried to call. Sighing, she reached the green-room door and steeled herself, then went in.

“What took so long, sugar? I was just about to send out a search party,” Trent said.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said with a smile in her voice. She settled the tray on the table, along with some appetizer plates and napkins.

“Pull up a chair and have some.”

She put her hand on her stomach. “I couldn’t eat another thing tonight. You all enjoy, though.” Alyssa crossed to the big table and scanned for her phone.

Tori pushed into the room carrying beers for two of the guys. The keyboardist pulled her into his lap and kissed her on the cheek. She giggled, clearly enjoying the attention.

Lazy fingers traced the low scoop on the back of her shirt. “You should be more like your friend. She knows what we like.” Trent’s breath was hot against her ear.

Alyssa’s scalp prickled and she debated how to respond. “You guys are great,” she forced herself to say in a normal voice. “But I’m, uh, seeing someone.”

He leaned in. “I don’t mind.”

She filled her hands with dirty dishes. “Sorry,” she said, not knowing how else to say no without offending him.

He dragged his knuckles down her arm. “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that. Have some fun.”

Knowing she wasn’t going to say anything that would make him back off, Alyssa bit her tongue and skirted around him.

“Bitch,” he murmured under his breath.

Alyssa’s throat went tight, but she kept walking until she was out of the room and down the hall. She rounded the first corner, out of sight of the green room, and collapsed against the wall.
Okay, pull it together, Aly. You’re fine.
She needed to find Pete, but it turned out she didn’t need to go looking. He was talking to the guys in the kitchen.

“Just spoke to their manager. They’ll clear out within a half hour,” he said. “Thank you for your patience tonight, everyone.”

Relief flooded Alyssa as she placed the dirties in a bin and joined the group.

“You can close down in here. Marco closed the bar. Who wants the green room tonight? I’ll throw in a little extra, given the hour.”

Eric looked her way but she shook her head. She’d had enough of the green room for today. Plus, Marco was waiting for her. Eric finally agreed to do it.

“Okay, then,” Pete said. “Alyssa, you and Tori are done for the night. The guys will handle the rest.”

Butterflies took flight in her stomach at the realization she’d have to talk to Marco now. The question about her phone returned, adding worry to the anticipation suddenly flooding her system. Maybe it was in her car. If she didn’t find it, she was going to be distracted over it the whole time they were talking.
Please don’t let me have lost it
. If she did, she wouldn’t be able to replace it any time soon, and being cut off from Brady would kill her. She’d definitely had it on the way home from DC, because she’d listened to music.

Alyssa turned in to the lounge, ready to tell Marco she needed a few minutes to search for her phone, but he wasn’t in there. She retrieved her keys from her locker and left to check her car.

The night air was still and thunder rumbled in the distance. At the side of the lot, the band’s tour bus idled, crew members coming in and out of the stage doors with equipment. Two of the band members came out as she reached her car, and lingered by the door to the bus before getting on.

Finally!
She couldn’t say she was sad to see them go.

Alyssa unlocked her car and searched the front seat. Her heart sank. Seats. Floor. Center console. Her phone wasn’t anywhere. She opened the back door and leaned way down to look under the driver’s seat. There! Between the console and the side of her seat.
Oh, thank God
. She fished it out of the tight spot and pushed herself up.

She turned and crashed into somebody. Her heart flew into her throat.

“No, stay there. That was working for me.”

Trent.
Are you kidding me?
“Excuse me,” Alyssa said with none of the friendly tone she’d mustered earlier.

He braced one hand on the car’s roof over her shoulder, boxing her in between his body and the open passenger door. His other hand curled behind her head and grabbed tightly onto her ponytail. The next thing Alyssa knew, her mouth was full of his tongue and the stale taste of cigarettes and alcohol.

After a moment of stunned shock, Alyssa shoved at his chest, breaking the kiss and fumbling her phone. It dropped to the ground. “What the hell?” Her heart hammered against her sternum and ice crawled over her skin.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing her wrists in his hands and holding them against her chest. He shoved her back and the car’s frame jammed into her neck, stealing her breath. He pressed his body into hers and smeared a sloppy kiss onto her cheek when she turned her face away. He tugged her wrists in warning. “Come
on
.”

Adrenaline made her feel like she was vibrating. “Get the fuck off me,” she rasped, yanking at her hands.

His grip tightened and he ground his erection into her hip. “What a dirty mouth. I’m going to love feeling it on my dick.” He leaned down and sucked on her neck.

Annoyance and alarm morphed into rage. She was
not
helpless. And she was not going to be this asshole’s victim. Three years of self-defense classes kicked in. He was too close to get in a knee lift, so she relaxed her arms and felt his grip loosen. She linked her fingers together and leaned slightly into him.

“Yeah,” he moaned, taking a half step back to get a better shot at her lips.

Seizing her moment, Alyssa screamed and stomped down on his foot as hard as she could.

He jolted back. “Ow! You
bitch
.”

Using his surprise, she leaned away and yanked her arms out of his hands. She stumbled backward against the car, but she was free.

Trent glared at her and lunged.

A strange pride roared through Marco as she slammed the heel of her palm into his chin, whipping his head back. The guy staggered but clearly wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Marco developed tunnel vision as his hand cranked down on the guy’s shoulder and whipped him around. His right fist cocked back and exploded forward, busting open the man’s cheekbone on impact. The scumbag stumbled before crashing onto his back.

Marco was on him in an instant. Voices sounded in the distance as he wailed on the asshole who had dared touch the woman he loved. Jesus, what would’ve happened if he’d come out five or ten minutes later?

“Marco! Stop! Come on, Marco!” A thick arm wrapped around his neck and jerked him back. Marco swung. “He’s down, man. He’s down,” said the voice.

Marco’s heart was a wild thing in his chest. His gaze scanned for Alyssa, but he couldn’t find her in the crowd of spectators. When had all these people gotten here? “He…he…Alyssa.”

“She’s here. She’s okay.” Marco pulled free and whirled to find Van holding his hands out. He pointed. “She’s right there.”

Marco’s gaze followed the man’s hand.

Alyssa.

She was sitting sideways in the backseat of her car, her legs pulled up, her face ashen and drawn.

Marco went to his knees in front of her, his hands cupping her trembling face. “Hey. Shh. It’s okay. It’s over.” Shit, had his heart ever beat this fast?

She nodded and pressed her hand over her mouth like she was trying to hold in her emotions, then she dropped it and released a halting breath. “N-not…help…l-less…,” she stuttered, and then she lost the battle against restraint. A sob ripped out of her. She curled forward and buried her face in her knees.

Her words tore into Marco’s heart.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her face into the crook of his neck. “I know you’re not. Not at all. Shh. I’m so sorry.” He whispered the words into her ear over and over as guilt squeezed his gut and his imagination ran rabid with thoughts of what had happened before he’d gotten there. He hugged Alyssa tighter and fought the urge to look over every inch of her skin to prove she was all right.

She sat back and scrubbed at her cheeks. Long strands of her hair hung loose around her face, like it had been pulled free of her ponytail. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Marco’s hands slid to her thighs and he frowned. “What for?”

“Your shirt.” Her breath hitched. “I got makeup on it.”

He shook his head and looked her over. “Did he hurt you?”

Her gaze dropped to her lap. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”