See You at the Show (10 page)

CHAPTER NINE

It was a warm, clear night as the music belted out of the enormous speakers surrounding the stage, thousands of rock fans crammed into a stadium that was packed full of atmosphere, attitude and hope.
 
Hope from every female fan that Mark Cassidy would pick them out for their night with a rock star.
 
Hope that they’d be the one to experience that Cassidy magic.

As Stevie watched from the wings, crouched down beside the cool box full of iced water and beer, she could see them there in the front of the crowd, all made up like human Barbie Dolls, practically throwing themselves at Mark any time he came near the front of the stage.
 
They had no idea they weren’t even his type although, to be fair, she wasn’t entirely sure Mark Cassidy even had a type.
 
What she
was
sure of though was that he was putting on the performance of his life out there.
 
His voice sounded better than it had done in ages and he was commanding that stage like the legend he could quite possibly become.
 
In his torn jeans and army boots, his tan and tattoos shown off to full effect in a tight white t-shirt, he looked incredible.
 
There was no doubt that he had it all, he had everything and he knew it.
 
Arrogance, attitude and more sex appeal than anyone should legally have, that was Mark Cassidy.
 
One hell of a bastard.

They were about to end another successful gig, the crowd going wild as the closing guitar solo from Johnny ended their third encore.
 
And then they were done, running off stage as the last of the pyrotechnics fired up into the night sky, lighting it up as the crowd screamed for more.
 
But that was it.
 
Done.
 
Manchester
had had two nights of Black Rock Diamond and now it was time to move on, and Stevie couldn’t wait to leave this city and head back to
London
.
 
It hadn’t been a good experience for her, it never was.
 
She never enjoyed coming back to the
North West
.
 
There were too many ghosts here and she could do without them intruding on her life.

As soon as the guys were off stage it was Stevie and the crew’s turn to run on and start the long job of dismantling and clearing away but she looked forward to it.
 
More so tonight, thanks to Mark Cassidy’s inability to keep a promise.

There was a huge gang of them here, all of them good friends and all of them good at what they did.
 
They were almost like a family, and that’s what Stevie loved about being involved with all of this.
 
It was an odd kind of security but it was security all the same.
 
They looked after each other.
 
The banter was a laugh and everybody made sure it was always fun, no matter how hard the work was, and it was incredibly hard at times.
 
But they were all professionals, and everyone’s combined skills meant everything usually got done in record quick time.
 

She needed her mind taken off things anyway.
 
She’d asked one thing of Mark, just one thing for a couple of nights, that was all.
 
He’d promised her he’d be there for her and he’d chosen to break that promise.
 
He’d chosen to please nobody but himself and leave her on her own last night and she saw no reason why he was going to be any different tonight.
 
All she’d asked was for him to spend one post-gig night with her, that was all.
 
She always gave him what
he
wanted, she was always there for him before he went on stage, always there with the now almost-habitual pre-concert sex, and he couldn’t even be bothered to spend one night away from playing Mr Rock Star to be with her when she needed him most.
 
He didn’t know that, of course.
 
He didn’t know that she needed him, that she was feeling uneasy and unsettled and vulnerable because she was in a place that brought back too many memories, and she didn’t really want him to know.
 
She didn’t want to have to explain.
 
Stevie Stone was strong, defiant, tough.
 
Nothing got her down.
 
But sometimes, just sometimes, all she needed was her rocker boyfriend to only want
her.

It was after 3am by the time she got back to the hotel.
 
She’d stayed down in the bar for a little while, taking some time out with the rest of the guys in the crew to wind down and have a few drinks, and in a way it felt good to be apart from the band for a while and be with the people she could really identify with.
 
She’d known some of these guys a lot longer than she’d known any of the band and they’d been good to her.
 
They were good for each other.
 
Some of them had told Stevie that Mark was no good for her, that he’d only end up hurting her and their concern was nice to have.
 
It was almost like a brotherly love and it meant a lot, but she couldn’t do anything except ignore it.
 
Because Mark Cassidy was under her skin and, no matter what, she needed to be around him.

Tired and more than ready for sleep, she pushed open her hotel room door, surprised to see the light on.
 
She could have sworn she’d turned it off when she’d left all those hours earlier.

“Hey, you’re home.”

She turned round to see Mark coming out of the bathroom, dressed only in his jeans and boots, his hair all messed up in a look that probably
was
just-got-out-of-bed.
 
Literally.
 
Just not
her
bed.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I came to see you, baby.”

He tried to slide his arms around her waist but she wasn’t in the mood, slapping them away.

“Too late, Mark.
 
Too fucking late.”

“Come on, Stevie.
 
I’m here now, aren’t I?”

She swung round to stare at him.
 
He was heartbreakingly handsome but a first rate bastard all the same.
 
And she was in no mood for him tonight.

“I asked you to do one thing, Mark.
 
One thing.
 
To leave the bimbo’s alone for one fucking night and be with
me
, somebody who actually fucking cares about you, and you couldn’t do it.
 
Could you?”

“Baby...”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me, Mark; I’ve had it with you.”

She walked into the bathroom, pulling off her t-shirt and throwing it on the floor.

“Stevie...”

“What?
 
What do you want, Mark?”

“I want
you
.
 
Come on, I came back, didn’t I?
 
I came back to you.”

“Fuck off, Cassidy.
 
I’m really not in the mood.”

He grabbed her round the waist and pulled her against him, kissing her with a force that almost sent her reeling, just before she pushed him away with a force that was just as hard.

“I said, fuck off!
 
I’m not doing this tonight, Mark.
 
Not with you.”

“You gonna run to Johnny then?
 
You gonna go sleep with him?”

“I’m not
you,
Mark.
 
I don’t feel the need to always have to be with someone, to have my ego fed like some over-hungry animal.
 
You’re a legend in your own fucking head sometimes, you really are.”

She slipped out of her denim shorts, leaving her in just her underwear as she pulled off her bandana and threw it onto the counter beside the sink.
 

“Leave me alone, Mark.”
 
Her voice was quieter now.
 
She was tired; the events of the last two days were catching up with her - the constant worry that something was going to trip her up, make her remember; bring forward the guilt.

He came up behind her, and this time she didn’t fight him as he slipped his arms around her, kissing her neck gently.
 
She closed her eyes and lay back against him, feeling him slide his fingers down her hips and thighs as his mouth continued to kiss her shoulder and she knew she was falling.
 
He was her weakness and she hated herself for it sometimes.

“Don’t do this to me, Mark.
 
Please.”

His fingers were stroking her inner thighs now, forcing her to open her legs a touch wider, and she knew if she didn’t stop him now she wouldn’t be able to.
 
She didn’t have the strength.

“I can’t do this,” she said, breaking free of his grip and walking out of the bathroom.

“Jesus, Stevie, you can’t leave me like this.
 
I’ve got a fucking hard-on from hell here.”

“Then go find one of your fans to give it to because you’re not putting it in me tonight.”

“I don’t want another groupie.
 
You’re
all I want, baby.
 
Just you.”

Stevie laughed a cynical laugh as she looked at him.
 
“The same old bloody line, every time.
 
I’m tired of it, Mark.”

“Come on, Stevie, for fuck’s sake, honey.
 
You know we’re gonna go there eventually.
 
Let’s just cut the crap, ok?”

“Not this time, Cassidy.”

He moved closer to her, their eyes locked together and she backed slowly away from him, until she was right up against the wall.

“
Every
time, Stevie.
 
Every fucking time, and you know it.”

She shook her head, even though she knew as well as he did that the game was reaching its natural and inevitable end.

“You want me in there so bad, don’t you?”

“You’re second hand goods, Cassidy.
 
Why would I want you anywhere near me?”

They were staring each other out, playing the game to the letter.

“None of them mean a thing to me, Stevie.
 
They serve a purpose, they get me off, but none of them can touch you.
 
None of them.”

He was right in her face now, his hand touching her cheek, stroking it with his thumb.
 
This was it.
 
Endgame.
 
And they were both winners.

She could feel him against her thigh.
 
He was hard and ready and she could feel herself wearing down, wanting him, aching for him, despite the fact she could quite happily lay him out.
 
The anger never went away.

“I hate you,” she whispered, still looking right into his deep, dark eyes.
 
He smelt of beer and cigarette smoke and yet he was still as sexy as hell.
 
A sexy, hot, pain in the arse and she wanted him like nothing else.
 
She’d still hate him in the morning, they’d still be fighting all the way down to
London
but inbetween it all, just as it always was, they’d be having sex somewhere.
 
Fucking and fighting.
 
It was what they did.
 
And everyone knew that.

“Hate me all you like, baby, but I
know
you don’t hate this.”

And with one hard, almost violent thrust he was in her, pressing her up against the wall as he pushed into her.
 
It hurt, it always did when they were in this mood, it was their way of getting the frustration out.
 
She’d claw his back and shoulders, bite his neck, and he’d make sure he pushed as deep as he possibly could, as hard as he could, and tonight was no different.
 
It was wild, almost animal sex.
 
Just the way they both liked it.

“Still hate me?” he asked, letting go of his grip on her as it all came to its usual crashing finale.

“Always, Cassidy,” she breathed, staring at him.
 

He smiled, kissing her deep and long, his tongue touching hers as their bodies slowed down, everything returning to normal.

“You’re such a bastard.”

He smiled again, running his fingers along her collarbone, down to her breasts.

“You gonna let me stay tonight then?”

“You broke a promise, Mark.
 
You said you’d come back to me.
 
No fans, no groupies…you broke a promise.”

He was concentrating on her breasts, his fingers touching them, stroking them, and she could feel her skin breaking out in goosebumps with every movement he made.

“I’m sorry, baby.
 
Really, I’m sorry.”

But she knew that sorry meant nothing in Mark Cassidy’s world.
 
It was an overused and never meant word in his vocabulary.
 
She was flogging a dead horse.
 
He’d said it, she’d take it, and so the cycle would begin all over again.
 
But Mark Cassidy was a part of her life she couldn’t put aside.
 
It would take something – or some
one
– very special to make her give up what she had here.
 
And she just wasn’t sure that person existed.