Rock 01 - FRET

FRET

Sandrine Gasq-Dion

My family

Tonton Guy, for treating me as his daughter. May
you find peace now.

Jenjo

Ann Lister, for loaning me her Rock Gods

Kellie Dennis for the cover: http://www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk/index.html

James Higbee and The Hive

Aarin, Michael and Doug of
No Other Option

A portion of the books proceeds will go to Heather Hagerman’s fight against breast cancer.

Wicked Arizona Coffee for keeping me caffeinated.

The City of Flagstaff

Maloney’s

Mia’s

Galaxy Diner

Denny’s

The blinding, blazing-hot lights bore down on me as I launched into my guitar solo, my fingers carving a path only I knew. My brother, Ransom, was beside me, rocking it out. I couldn’t see the crowd, but I could feel them.

Explosions detonated around me as I neared the end of my solo. The crowd went fucking crazy as I dropped to my knees and fell nearly to my back, my fingers expertly plucking the strings of my Fender.

This was my life now, and I still wasn’t sure if I wanted it to be.

Our drummer, Jinx, was banging the shit out of his Toms as the song ended. Harley and Rebel joined me as Ransom gave me a hand up and the five of us bowed before a frenzied crowd.

Ransom slapped my ass as we exited the stage and headed for the dressing rooms.

My life had changed drastically over the past year.

Our band, Skull Blasters, was finally the main event, not the act everyone talked through while they waited for the main event. We’d been opening for Ivory Tower and Black Ice, as well as a few other bands — now we were the shit.

I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with that.

I was never even supposed to be in the band. An accident put me here.

I grew up watching Ransom and his best friends practice in each other’s garages every single day. Hell, it’s how I learned to play guitar.

I was always the quiet one, the one who just watched everything going on. Now, I’m in the thick of it. I couldn’t say no to Ransom when he asked me to take over as lead guitarist after the accident. His best friend, Paul, was driving us home when it happened. His hand was crushed between the steering wheel and the dash. Ransom and I walked away with barely a scratch, but Paul was still suffering a year later.

As we walked down the hall, I caught sight of the line of girls waiting to meet up with us and I cringed. I couldn’t do this again. I just couldn’t. For the past year, I’ve been fucking anything in a skirt just to keep the peace.

I don’t think I can do it anymore.

I took Ransom’s hand and pulled him into the nearest room.

I love my brother, and he loves me and knows I’m gay — but I’m not sure how he’s going to react when I tell him I’m planning to come out. I live under a damn microscope. I can’t have a drink in a bar without a photographer catching me. I can’t even get laid by someone I actually want, because finding a guy who’s willing to keep his mouth shut? Yeah, not gonna happen.

Now I’m in a heavy metal band that has finally hit it big and I’m going to fuck it all up for everyone because I want some normalcy in my life.

Fuck.

I eye my brother carefully and consider how to tell him what I want. Ransom has had my back all my life. I was always smaller than he was. I took after Dad, whereas Ransom took after Mom. Looking at us, you’d never even guess we’re brothers. My features are more feminine than his are. I’m five-foot-eight and Ransom is six foot. I have black hair and green eyes; Ransom is blond. We couldn’t look more different, but we’re loyal to the core.

I never came out to our father; he probably would have beaten me. He didn’t have the best temperament in the world. My parents loved each other, don’t get me wrong, but they fought just like most couples. When Mom got sick, we struggled to pay the doctor bills. In the end, the cancer took her life. Dad began to drink more, and then eventually turned to drugs. As soon as we could, Ransom and I got the hell out.

Ransom and the guys started playing small bars around neighboring towns on the weekends and finally caught the eye of a vacationing record producer. That, as they say, was that. The guys signed a contract and off they went, opening for smaller bands at first, and then hitting the big time opening for Black Ice.

“What’s up, bro?” Ransom interrupted my thought train.

“I can’t do this, Ransom. I can’t do another night of pussy. I just can’t. I know it’s going to fuck up the band if I come out but I never asked for this, remember?”

“Hold that thought.” Ransom opened the door and whistled. “Harley, Jinx, Rebel! Grab Paul and get in here.”

Ah, shit. Paul. Paul was the lead guitarist before the accident, now he played the role of manager. I clasped my hands together and Ransom gave me a reassuring smile. I knew he’d have my back. He always did. The rest of the band and Paul entered the room and Ransom shut the door.

“What’s going on?” Jinx looked concerned.

“Gareth is going to come out,” Paul guessed.

“Finally,” Rebel exhaled.

“What do you mean, ‘finally’?” I demanded, slightly pissed. “I’ve been keeping my mouth shut to protect the band!”

“Dude, I can’t watch you try to conform for one more night.” Jinx shook his head sadly.

“Do you realize what this means, Gareth?” Paul looked directly at me.

“I do. We’re going to be crucified in the media; no one will leave us alone for months.”

“Yes, that’s true.” Paul nodded. “It also means tons of media coverage.”

I blinked.

“Wait. What are you saying? You’re okay with this?” My jaw was somewhere around my kneecaps.

“I’m not going to lie. This is going to be hard on all of us, but we’re also going to get a lot of positive coverage by LGBT groups, so this could work out in our favor. There’s going to be some nut jobs out there, but we’ll handle it.”

I exhaled and gave a relieved smile. “Thanks, guys.”

“Now, let’s go find you some monster dick!” Jinx grabbed my hand and yanked me out of the room.

“Jinx, please don’t be so accommodating! It’s freaky.” I pulled my hand back.

“Go on to the hotel, Gareth.” Paul stepped between the screaming women and me. “We’ll meet up with you and figure out our next step.”

Several hours later, the guys reappeared. Paul had been on the phone with our friends from Black Ice and Ivory Tower. It was well known there were gay guys in their bands, and Paul wanted their opinions on the best way to announce my gayness. His words, not mine.

I have to admit, I’m a little nervous about all of this. Never in my life did I dream that my sexual preferences would be in the newspaper, spread on the table next to peoples’ first cups of coffee of the day.

Paul told me I was going to do an interview with a local news station in Phoenix. All the guys in my hometown of Flagstaff were about to find out about my sexuality. Not that I was too worried about them. Flagstaff is a very diverse and close-knit community. They even have their own pride day.

“Gareth?” Ransom nudged me.

“Yeah?”

“You really ready for this?”

“I suppose.” I shrugged and took Ransom’s hand. “Have I told you what an awesome brother you are?”

“Not in the last two hours.” Ransom raised his brows at me.

“That’s because you were fucking two chicks at once,” Jinx cut in.

“Ew.” I wrinkled my nose.

“Well.” Paul hung up the phone and joined us on the couch. “I just got off the phone with the other bands and they’re on board for whatever we need. Alex and Dagger send their love.”

I grinned and ducked my head. I seriously love those guys. Not only are they hotter than shit, but they’re the most down-to-Earth men I know for superstars.

I looked around at the guys I’d grown up with, stretched my arm out and placed my hand out, palm downward. One by one, they each placed a hand on top of mine until we were in a circle.

“We’re family,” Paul vowed. “We’ll take whatever comes our way and stand strong.”

“Damn straight!”

The Arizona sun mocked me mercilessly as I ran the three miles back home. My heavy combat boots struck the ground and my rucksack bounced on my back. I skirted a pissed rattlesnake and kept my eyes on the terrain ahead. Running always clears my head. I’d done it so often in the military that running almost every day was ingrained in me. Had to keep up my fantastic physique. Besides, these days I was taking odd jobs just to keep busy. I really missed being active, serving with guys just like me.

My father had been a SEAL and an explosives expert, which had earned him the nickname ‘Blaze.’ He liked it so much he actually legally made that his surname. I got the lovely name ‘Axel’ when my mom went into labor and the Humvee my dad was in got stuck and broke an axle on his way to see me come out of my mom’s…thing. I blame the dyslexic spelling of my name on Mom’s heavy-duty drugs when she filled out the birth certificate.

So. Here I am — Axel Blaze. Expert rifleman, graduated top of my class and went straight to BUD school. My father died before he saw me become what I am today. The old bastard would have been proud. As a former SEAL himself, he would have loved to parade me around his buddies, talking smack. He died of a heart attack while I was in boot camp. My mother died three years ago and I have no other family.

Just me, myself and I.

Which works well for me in my situation.

I have nothing to lose.

I crested a hill and smiled at my cabin in the distance. I love it out here. I live right on the edge of Summerhaven, Arizona. I’m on the east side, which makes my run to the park a little over six miles each day. The ski resort was quiet for now, just the occasional camper — the ones who forget to hang their food from a tree a good distance from where they camp.

I chuckled.

I’d seen a few bears around, but they left me to myself and I left them, period. I didn’t need any new scars. I sprinted the rest of the way; I loved the burn, the feeling of being alive.

I dropped my rucksack by the door and frowned at the manila envelope propped against the doorframe. When a new job comes my way, I have one of those envelopes sitting at my door — but I usually get a heads up from my boss, Mac.

I grabbed the envelope and unlocked the door, dragging in my pack. I removed my boots and went to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. I sliced open the envelope with my knife.

My eyes widened at the contents.

Some things just don’t go together: syrup on eggs or sausage, pineapple on pizza and grape jam on…well, anything.

Add me and babysitting to that list. I don’t do well in confined spaces wiping snot from some rich-ass poser. I’m an asshole; I freely admit that. Who wouldn’t be? I didn’t suffer through BUD school to sing “Kumbaya” around a fire pit. I was stationed with guys like me (assholes) and did what I had to do to survive.

No apologies.

I flipped through the folder to make sure I wasn’t imagining things. Mac must have fallen on his head and scrambled his brains. We’ve always worked together well, he and I — I sucked his dick, and he sucked mine. Now he’s married and has a kid. I never did understand ‘bi’ guys. I like cock, plain and simple. Tits never did a thing for me, although they do make good pillows.

My newest assignment is to babysit a rock band. Well, one member of a rock band. Skull Blasters consists of five childhood friends: lead singer Ransom Fox, drummer Jinx Jett, rhythm guitarist Harley Payne, bassist Rebel Stryker, and my babysitting job — lead guitarist Gareth Wolf, the only gay member of the band. My eyes widened as I read that part again.

Gay?

“Holy shit,” I whispered under my breath.

I didn’t know of too many hard-core metal bands with gay members. I shook my head clear and began reading again. Their manager, Paul Vincent, was the man who had asked — begged, actually — for help after Gareth had begun receiving death threats. Apparently, the manager was once a member of the band, the lead guitarist actually. A car wreck changed his life forever when a resulting injury meant he wasn’t able to play anymore.

Enter Gareth Wolf, little brother of Ransom Fox.

The boys lost their mother at a young age and their drunken father raised them. I shook my head as I read the file. The kids had done well in school until their mother passed away. Then they both went to shit. I didn’t blame them. I checked the file on the boys’ father and found out he was in prison for dealing meth.

Peachie.

Did I really need this right now? I was home and comfortable. Taking this job meant traveling — even going to Washington State. Fuck, I hate rain. Water that involves swimming? Love it. Water falling on my head? Fuck.

I stared at the band’s picture. The members had signed their names above their own spot in the photo. My eyes fell on Gareth; he was wearing tight faded jeans and a T-shirt with a skull on it. Dark hair obscured his face, but he was well built.

I grabbed my cell phone and called Mac. He answered on the second ring, breathing hard.

“Jesus, get off your wife,” I drawled.

“I wouldn’t answer the phone if I was fucking, asshole!”

“Are you trying to run then? You sound as if you’re about to die.”

“Fuck off. Did you look at the papers I sent over?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“And what? Fuck me running, Mac! I don’t do this kind of shit.”

“Look, I’d send someone else but I’m short on assholes right now. I trust you with this guy.”

“You trust the gay guy with the other gay guy?”

“You are
not
all that.”

“The fuck I’m not,” I snorted.

A loud sigh came over the phone and I smirked. I knew Mac couldn’t argue that. He’d all but drooled when he first set eyes on me. I could hear his wife, Christy, in the background.

“He is so hot, Mac!” she giggled.

“Oh for fucks sake,” Mac sighed. “Why I tell her the truth I’ll never know.”

“Get over it. You got a good one.”

“Yeah, I did. So? Will you take this or not? There’s a huge paycheck attached to it.”

Did I really want to go there? I wasn’t suffering for cash, although I guess I could use a change of scenery. I looked out the window of my log cabin.

“Yeah, I’ll take it.”

“Good. I’ll send you the airline tickets and everything else you’ll need. They go on tomorrow night at the Tacoma Dome.”

“Does Gareth know he’s getting a babysitter?”

“Gotta go!”

The line went dead and I cursed under my breath. Gareth Wolf had no idea what was coming his way.

Great.

~*~

The concert was already in progress when I arrived — wet from the fucking rain — at the Tacoma Dome. I’d gotten my papers and badge the minute I landed. Mac was known for his meticulous planning, which meant he’d known I’d take this clusterfuck of a job. At the moment, I really hated that man.

I don’t socialize much, not really. Not too many people can understand the hell we SEALS went through, so what was the point? The last guy I fucked wanted me to treat him like a prisoner. I don’t do bondage, and I’m no one’s daddy. So, hell the fuck no.

I passed the first security checkpoint; the guy barely nodded in my direction. Wow, great security.

Thumping music was shaking the walls of the Dome as I headed for my designated spot. I guess I’m meeting Paul Vincent, the manager.

I took mental notes as I passed through the crowd of screaming, jumping people. The band was rocking it out and I sought out Gareth. There were two guitarists, but I found him right away. Black hair touched his shoulders and his lean body moved with his guitar.

He was in his element.

The song was wrapping up and the floor was shaking from the bass drum. The floor-to-ceiling speakers pumped out the last notes of the song. The crowd immediately went wild as Ransom leaned over the stage.

“Let’s hear it for the best lead guitarist on the planet!” he shouted.

Gareth shook his hair back and bowed with one hand out. Again, the crowd screamed, shouted and whistled. Ransom went on to give some love to the other members of the group.

I rolled my eyes and pushed my way through the crowd toward the side of the stage. A large man eyed me and then nodded as I walked by. Again, I could have been wearing a ‘Hello, I’m God’ tag and security wouldn’t have batted an eyelash. As it was, my tag faced backwards; he couldn’t even see my name or credentials.

Security for the Skull Blasters band was sorely lacking.

I sat through another hour of bone-jarring hardcore metal before the band finally left the stage. I scanned the area for their manager, but no luck.

I walked right behind the curtain and fell into step with the band members as they trudged toward their dressing rooms. They didn’t even notice me — and I’m particularly hard to miss.

They stepped into the dressing room; I followed and slammed the door shut behind me. Ransom turned and his eyes widened.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“Nice of you to finally notice me,” I pointed out.

“Paul!” Ransom thundered. He immediately moved in front of Gareth, shielding him.

“Oh for fucks sake.” I rolled my eyes.

The door behind me opened and a startled man looked me over from head to toe. He flipped my name badge over and sighed audibly, clearly relieved.

“It’s cool, Ransom. This is the guy I was telling you about.”

“You could have mentioned he was a semi-truck.” Ransom’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you as agreed,” Paul apologized to me. “I ran into some media and couldn’t get away.”

“Not that this isn’t fun — because,
oh
so much fun — but I’m here to do a job. So I need to speak to whoever is in charge of your so-called security. Now.” I leaned very slightly — but effectively — in to Paul’s face.

“Why?”

I turned to find Gareth peeking out from behind his brother’s broad shoulders. His eyes were a shade of green I’d never seen before, and with his pale complexion and dark hair? The guy was a looker and then some.

“Because the band’s security royally sucks. I walked right on back here
with them
and not one person noticed or stopped me. That is not acceptable.”

“Who
are
you?” Gareth gaped.

I pinned him with a hard look. “I’m
your
bodyguard.”

Ransom chuckled.

“What the actual fuck?” Gareth stepped in front of his brother. “Is this a joke?”

“Nope.” Ransom shook his head.

“Jinx, Harley, Rebel. Give us a few, eh?” Paul opened the door and tilted his head toward the hallway.

“Sure thing, boss.” Rebel tipped his hat and winked at me.

I leaned against the wall as the members walked out. I overheard one of them, not sure which, talking to another.

“Did you
see
the size of that guy?”

“How could you miss him?” another one answered. “You could show movies on that dude’s back.”

Paul shut the door and turned to Gareth with an apologetic smile.

“I knew what you’d say if we told you beforehand,” he admitted.

“Oh, did you now? So you had to go out and get me Conan the Destroyer? Jesus Christ!”

“Gareth,” Ransom warned.

“What? This is stupid! I don’t need a human shield!”

“You’re going to play nice and allow this man to watch your back, Gareth!” Ransom shouted. “You’re getting threats since you came out! I insist you be kept safe!”

“Gareth, why don’t you go clean up? Then you and Mr. Blaze can get acquainted.”

“Seriously?
Blaze
?” Gareth snorted.

I narrowed my eyes at the kid. Well, to
me
he was a kid, after everything I’d seen in my life. Gareth was almost twenty-three and I was pushing thirty. We locked eyes for a few seconds before he turned away.

“Ransom, get.” Paul shooed them off with his hands.

He turned to me and stuck out his left hand. I shook it and eyed his right. Some kind of brace wrapped around it. “What happened there?” Not that I didn’t already know, but I prefer getting the story from the person involved.

“Car wreck. Fucked up my hand.” He motioned to the couch.

I shook my head and stood instead. “No offense, I’m better on my feet.”

“Your employer told me that this isn’t what you normally do.”

“Is that going to be a problem?”

“Well, I’m not sure. Gareth needs protection.”

“I kill people, Mr. Vincent. It’s what I do best. I make no excuses. I’ll do my best with Gareth.”

“Good, because he needs it.” Paul opened his bag and pulled some papers out. “These started coming the day Gareth came out and it was all over the news.”

He handed me the papers and I looked them over. A lot of Bible verses covered the paper, along with ‘burn in hell.’ I looked up and met Paul’s eyes.