“You won’t,” Mevi assured him. “I have a secret weapon on the way.”
“Who is she?” Bonnie asked.
Mevi smiled. “She’s Tilly. That’s all you need to know. Heh, that’s all you want to know.”
Chapter Twenty-One
It was nearly seven that evening when Tilly walked into the backstage area, escorted by their two security guys who’d taken Erique out. They were carrying two small suitcases for her, while she had a purse and laptop case slung over her shoulder.
The security guys, both of them well over six three and beefy, strong men, looked pants-shitting terrified.
Tilly wore a pleased smile.
Clark found a private room for the three of them to go to, and she handed him a manilla envelope.
“In there you’ll find a signed confession from Erique, admitting to being on drugs, a violation of your contract, I’m sure. Also, a statement that he’s resigning from the tour, effective immediately and of his own free will, because he’s going to seek medical help for his addiction. Also, you’ll find a signed confession that he drugged and sexually assaulted your drummer and extorted him, and that he attempted to drug Mevi this week during rehearsals. And there’s this.”
She held up her cell phone and first showed them several graphic pictures before she played a short snippet of video of Erique, looking stunning in nothing but a pair of satin pink panties, stiletto heels, and bright red lipstick, strutting for the camera. Then a masked Tilly had him on his knees, eagerly licking the shoes of the two security guys—whose faces were not shown—and desperately begging to be used for a wide variety of…activities.
She hit stop. “There’s more, but I won’t bore you. You can watch it yourself. The link to the videos and pics will be in your e-mail shortly. I put them up on a Tor repository so they couldn’t be traced. Oh, also, I had Lan walk me through a few things while I was there. Wiped all of the guy’s Google accounts, including photos and file storage, and changed all the passwords and emergency secondary access info before shutting down the accounts. He won’t be able to recover them. Ditto his Dropbox account, and completely wiped his iCloud account, except for copies of that video, and others, and a bunch of pictures I took with his own cell phone.
“And, just to let you know, he had a ton of pics and videos of other people it looks like he might have done the same thing to, so Pasch wasn’t his first victim. I didn’t recognize any of them, so not sure who they are. I have his laptop and other devices, and I’ll take those with me to have Lan wipe them completely and scramble data so they aren’t recoverable. When he finishes, I’ll give them to you to ship back to him.”
Clark looked shocked. “Um…do I want to know how you accomplished all of this?”
“Oh, the little asshole had GHB on him. So I spiked a glass of water, made him drink it, and waited a few minutes for it to kick in to get him to sign everything I’d already printed, along with making him doing the little dance you saw.”
Her smile turned chilling. “And a few other things. Let’s just say he and I had a chat and he was already highly motivated and begging before I drugged him. I might have given him the impression that I was a professional killer hired to take care of him by certain silent investors in the tour who want it to succeed. I think the black leather hood I walked in wearing, and scalpel set I showed him, is what actually made him pee himself. He was highly motivated to drink what I gave him. If you ever even hear of him again, much less hear from him, I’d be shocked. I think he had a come-to-Jesus moment and has decided music isn’t his ideal career.”
“Uh, scalpel set?” Mevi asked. “How’d you fly with that?”
She grinned. “Checked baggage. You can check a lot of shit. And so I did. Oh, that reminds me, there’s a prop guy here in Chicago I owe a set of Hamilton Broadway tickets for use of the prop gun. Man, was it realistic. He met me at the hotel and let me borrow it, as well as brought me a few more supplies I needed.” She made a note on her phone.
“How much bail are you going to need?” Clark asked. “Prison orange isn’t your color.”
Her smile widened, maniacally pleased. “I won’t. Hey, I’m a trained professional, thank you very much. Never piss off a sadistic Domme with anger issues, who also happens to be a nurse and who works in a Hollywood film production office, by fucking with her friends. I have a feeling your two security guys won’t tell what they saw. Although, heh, they might have a few nightmares. Sorry. Collateral damage.
“And I didn’t ‘harm’ the guy. He’ll wake up to a note warning him that I’m only giving him one chance since he begged so hard and that my ‘employers’ gave me discretion to allow him to…you know…continue breathing. I did the worst of the scaring before I drugged him, so he should remember all of that. Also, the note directs him to the Tor site with the pics and videos. The note also makes it clear that if he starts any shit, he will…not be happy with his future. Heh. Stupid little fucker. He really thought I was going to kill him. He’ll probably be shocked to realize he woke up.”
“Thank you!” Mevi wrapped his arms around her, wishing he could clone her.
She hugged him back. “Hey, when you told me you thought he’d been trying to drug you, that pissed me off.”
“What?” Clark said, sounding angry. “Since when was he doing that?”
“Doyle wasn’t sure that’s what he was doing, but we think from day one. I was really careful. Had I known what he did to Pasch, he would have been gone by the end of the first day.”
Clark looked like he was working on a good ulcer. “Fuck. Why the hell didn’t anyone tell me this shit?”
“Because Pasch didn’t want it known. Garth spilled the beans.”
Poor Clark looked like that ulcer was eating him alive. “Okay. Tilly, are you here for the show?”
“Absofuckinglutely!” She smiled. “Just give me a place to hang out and wait with Wi-Fi. I have real work to do.” She manically smiled again.
They parked Tilly in their dressing room area to wait with her and her luggage under the protection of a security guy who hadn’t been with her.
Mevi went off in search of the two security guys who had been with her and pulled them aside. “Look, I know Tilly. We’re good friends. Is she going to be okay…legally? I don’t want her getting in trouble with the cops. What’d Tilly do to the guy before she drugged him?”
The two men shared a glance, looked at him, and shook their heads.
“We didn’t see shit,” the first guy said.
“Not a damn thing,” the second one said.
They both looked terrified.
“Come on. It was an act. She’s not that scary. Just tell me.”
Both men snorted. “No offense, Mevi? But fuck you,” the first said. “I don’t know where you found her, but keep her on speed dial as a fixer. I’ve been in this business a long damn time, and I’ve seen crazy shit before, but what I saw today launched the bar into orbit.”
“But…you said you didn’t see anything?”
“Nope,” they said in unison.
“Well, there was the corn starch,” the second said, and both of them started laughing.
As Mevi walked away, he wondered how the two men would react if they knew he’d not only survived, but reasonably enjoyed the time he’d spent at Tilly’s hands.
* * * *
Doyle felt nervous tension flow through him once he was finished with his client calls. He’d been to concerts before, of course, but this was different.
Much different.
When he got a text from his driver that he was waiting downstairs for him to take him to the venue—and a reminder to make sure he had his credentials—he felt his heart race with excitement.
It’d been lonely without Mevi there with him. He’d missed his boy, as well as worried about him. Hoped he’d had a nice, calm, easy day before tonight’s big event.
He made small talk with the driver, who’d been working with them all week. “So how did t
oday go, do you know?”
“Okay, I guess. Had to make the airport run earlier for that woman, and moving that other guy around. But I don’t ask questions, I just do what I’m told.”
“Um…okay.” He checked his phone but didn’t have any missed texts from Mevi.
* * * *
When the driver had left to go get Doyle from the hotel, Mevi took a moment to seek Tilly out and speak to her in private.
“Can I ask a stupid question? Just between us?”
She smiled. “Sure.”
“Was there something about corn starch?”
She grinned and leaned in. “Mixed right, looks just like semen on camera.” She leaned out again, nodding as if he was in on the joke. “As much as he was covered in when he woke up, he’ll think he pulled a whole goddamned train. Especially when he discovered the zucchini I left in him.”
“Zucchini?”
She grinned. “Hey, I used a condom on it. And I made him put it in himself. Not like I was touching his skanky ass. But the way I filmed stuff, he’ll think he pulled a train and then stuck that in to, heh, keep everything in.” She giggled. “He took it like a trooper, too. I was impressed he did it on the first try. Must not be his first time.”
“Do I want to watch all the videos?”
“Hell, no.” Her grin widened as she patted his cheek. “Plausible deniability, buddy.”
* * * *
Mevi was standing inside the backstage entrance and waiting with Tilly as Doyle walked in, then pulled up short.
“Tilly?”
“Surprise!” She gave him a huge hug and whispered something to him.
“What…what are you doing here?” He shot Mevi a confused look.
She waved him off. “Long story,” she said. “Booooring.” She grinned. “Ready to see a concert?”
Mevi would have laughed at how confused Doyle looked and knew explanations would have to wait until later, when they returned to their room. With go time so close, they couldn’t even get two seconds alone. He’d already renewed the marker on his wrist several times that day.
“They need me for pictures,” he said. “Tilly knows where you guys will be watching the show from.” He offered Doyle a nervous smile. “I added three songs toward the end. I hope you like them.”
She hooked her arm through Doyle’s and looked up into his face. “I’ll tell him, kiddo. Don’t worry. Consider me your proxy for the evening. My flight home doesn’t leave until late.”
Bonnie called Mevi’s name and he turned to find her waving him over. They were going on in thirty minutes, and he could hear the crowd out in the arena starting to make noise. They weren’t having an opening act tonight or tomorrow night, or during the European leg. They’d join them in Indianapolis for the third concert.
“I need to go,” Mevi said, offering Doyle a nervous smile.
Doyle leaned in and whispered something to Tilly, who grinned and grabbed Mevi for a hug.
“He says break a leg, boy,” she whispered, playfully ruffling his hair while Doyle looked on smiling. “And that he’s very proud of you.”
Mevi’s face heated, pleased. “Tell Sir thank you for me, please.”
She stepped back and whispered it in Doyle’s ear. He smiled and nodded. “Have a good show, Mal.”
Mevi nodded and hurried to follow Bonnie.
They gathered in the dressing room, just the five of them, alone. Their usual routine.
Pasch looked a little sick to his stomach.
“Relax,” Mevi told him. “It was handled. He won’t be back, and he won’t come after you again.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Okay, guys,” Bonnie scolded. “Focus. This is a big night.” She smiled at Mevi. “Our big guy’s back, and I, for one, am very proud of him.” She held her hands out and they all stood in a circle, holding hands. She squeezed Mevi’s, in her left.
“Fun, friends, and family. Let’s have a good time and put on a good show. Smiles, boys. Smiles. We’re lucky to be alive.”
Their usual mantra, the one they’d always done, ever since the early days.
Their good-luck prayer.
As they headed out to growing cheers from the announcer whipping the crowd up, Mevi swallowed back his nerves and focused on his job.
This was what he did.
And tonight, he had the most special person in the world watching him.
He would not fuck it up.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Doyle and Tilly were given chairs where they could see the whole concert just off in the wings, next to the stage manager’s station.
Mevi killed it.
“He’s got a surprise for you,” Tilly said.
“What?”
“Just listen.”
Toward the end, he performed three of the new songs he’d written while in Florida. Before he performed the first one, he said, “I hope you guys like these. Something new, and you’re the first audience who gets to hear them.” He glanced toward Tilly and Doyle even though Doyle knew with the stage lights that Mevi couldn’t see them. “I had the best inspiration ever.”
Tilly leaned against him. “Aww, that’s so sweet. Nearly makes me want to cry.”
“So…why are you here, again?”
She snorted. “Not the time or place for that. Your boy will fill you in with what you need.”
“And what happened to Erique?”
She giggled. “Shut up and listen to your boy sing, dumbass. They’re for you.”
He knew he wouldn’t get any better answer than that, so he watched his boy sing.
He was…amazing.
The crowd thought so, too, erupting in huge applause and cheers after each number.
And Doyle smiled, hearing the private message being sung to him. Even the on-stage antics during the show between Mevi and Bonnie, flirty banter and exchanges, didn’t bother him, because he knew that was going to happen. It was part of their act. It would have been weird if they hadn’t done it.
He’s my boy. And I love him.
* * * *
When they finished the last encore number and finally left the stage, Mevi felt high.
The good kind of high. The kind he’d only ever felt after feasting on the energy of a show…
Or scening with Doyle.
The stage manager was trying to herd them all back to the VIP suite where they were supposed to meet up with the group of fans there, but Mevi spotted Tilly and Doyle standing in the wings and walked over.
Tilly grinned. “Way to break a leg, slugger. How’s it feel to be back on top?”
“Damn good.” His gaze locked onto Doyle’s and he wanted to pull the man into his arms and kiss him.
Or drop to his knees in front of him.
And knew he couldn’t.
Not because he was afraid for himself, but because he couldn’t out Doyle professionally. Part of the reason Doyle could do what he did and do it so well was because of his anonymity. Being seen kissing him would ruin that for Doyle and he damn well knew it.
Doyle reached out to shake with him, holding Mevi’s hand, squeezing, staring into his eyes before winking. “Good show, Mal. I loved the new numbers.”
Mevi felt a warm flush of energy surge through him. “Thank you, Sir,” he whispered.
Tilly leaned in. “Want me to hug him for you?” she asked Doyle.
“Yes, please.”
She did, patting him on the back before releasing him. “Good job, you.” She even reached up and ruffled his short hair, which made Doyle chuckle.
“Aren’t you going to join us in the VIP suite?” Mevi asked.
“I’m not,” Tilly said. “I need to get my ass to the airport if I want to make my flight home.”
“I’ll go back to the hotel,” Doyle said. “I can ride with Tilly, save the driver an extra trip. I’ll see you there when you get back tonight.”
“But…Sir, it might be late when we come back.”
; “That’s all right. We’ll celebrate privately later. You earned this. You did good. I’m very proud of you.” He nodded toward where the others were waiting. “Go on. It’s all right. I want you to have fun tonight.”
Mevi finally turned and followed his bandmates. He didn’t want to celebrate without Doyle.
Maybe I can talk him into quitting what he’s doing and letting me take care of him.
Then Doyle could travel with them. Mevi could freely be out and not worry about it.
Because, honestly? Now he didn’t give a shit who knew he was gay. Not if it meant he had Doyle in his life. But he refused to tank Doyle’s career. That was the last thing he wanted to do.
Bonnie hooked an arm through his as he fell into step with the others, laying her head against his shoulder. “Good to have you back, champ.”
“Feels good to be back.”
* * * *
Doyle watched them walk away, suppressing the jealous jolt that shot through him when Bonnie hooked arms with Mevi.
Then again, they were friends. Had known each other for years. Past lovers, even if she’d been his beard more than anything.
Stop letting your issues color his actions.
He knew his boy loved him.
As if reading his mind, Tilly hooked her arm through his.
“Don’t rip her head off, Doyle. He’s playing a part. If Leigh hasn’t scratched someone’s eyes out yet, you can get through this.”
“Leigh?”
“Over Nick. The movie premiers and shit? Sometimes he goes with friends. They try to keep it from looking like he’s more than good friends and business partners with Leigh and Lucas.”
“Mevi said he doesn’t care if people know he’s gay now.”
“But he’s shitting-bricks-scared of outing you. Or, should I say, bringing attention to you. He knows discretion is critical to your job. You haven’t seen the entertainment business from this end of shit, dude. Not really. Not as an active participant and subject of scrutiny, only as an anonymous observer. You do not want to be on their radar. I had a fucking photog dogging my ass for weeks once, and I’m not even ‘famous.’”