Come Undone Read Online Free Page B

shoulders so high he was in danger of piercing his ears with the spikes on his jacket. ‘Dammit, Xane, nothing’s been said at all! It was a dumb situation to get yourself in, and it’s even dumber now. You ought to be glad you’re out of it.’
    ‘’Cause you’d know all about what’s best for me.’
    ‘I know you should have waited until the gig was over before you started your pity party.’
    Yeah, and Elspeth should have held her bloody tongue until the show was done, but he didn’t suppose Ash had bothered to yell at
her
.
    Xane moved closer to the door. His public image might be as a hard man of rock, but not even he could perform a death growl with his throat choked up and a six-foot incision in his chest.
    Ash shifted to one side but slouched against the doorframe, forcing them to step over his legs to get out. ‘I’ll be in touch tomorrow. We need to talk things through.’
    They didn’t need to talk about jack. Black Halo was done in its current form. ‘Whatever.’ Xane pulled his saviour into the rain.
    After the heat of the arena, the cold outside came as a surprise. Xane kept hold of the girl as much for warmth as to maintain the façade that he intended to get laid. Sex was not what he needed right now. With his soul already flayed he didn’t need someone else’s expectations and emotions complicating things. And the thing about fans – which is what he gathered she was – was that they all thought they knew him, having memorised a few bits of trivia. Not only that, but they assumed, because they ‘knew’ him and loved him, he’d feel the same way in return.
    He never did. They weren’t people he’d call friends. They had no life experiences in common with him. The only commonality was the music, and even then they didn’t experience it in the same way. To them it was a product; something packaged, shiny and complete. Whereas he birthed the damn stuff, taking lyrics either he or Spook had written and then scratching out the chords and rhythms that filled his head. He worked at it, transformed and nurtured it, until he had something good.
    ‘How far are we going?’ he asked, growing tired of the cold.
    Ahead of them the car park formed a vast dark stain on the horizon, relieved only by the rainbow hues of oil-slicked puddles. Xane lifted his hand to his face to brush back his hair, whereupon streaks of kohl ran into the grooves between his fingers. ‘Where did you say you were parked?’
    ‘I didn’t.’ She gave him a tight smile. ‘It’s this way. I’m not in the main car park. It was full. I had to settle for a side street.’
    He followed the clack of her heels for what felt like miles, while watching the sway of her butt. He’d lay money on her only dressing like this for special occasions. The clothes didn’t sit easily on her back. She was so knotted with tension she seemed in danger of snapping something. Her hemline especially was giving her issues. Her small hands constantly smoothed the cloth.
    Jeans and T’s, he predicted as her usual attire. Maybe the occasional floral dress that turned her into a frump.
    Xane almost fed her a corny line about how great she looked in order to get her to relax, and because even in his piss-poor mood he could acknowledge she was a knockout. The dark colours suited her peaches-and-cream complexion, while the tight cut emphasised her natural hourglass curves.
    Of course, he also considered the possibility that he and not the outfit was the source of her distress. She wouldn’t be the first woman who’d landed lovely foul-mouthed him instead of kinkmeister Spook or everyone’s sweetheart, Paul.
    He caught her looking back at the lights of the stadium and decided it was definitely a case of wrong-guy syndrome. Well, she was going to be doubly pissed off when she realised that not only had she landed the booby prize, but he wasn’t interested in making out. His only plan for the night was to get home and get blotto.
    If that made him a