37. Mark

37

MARK

S he’s on fucking fire.

Grinning like an idiot, I watch Leonor from my side of the stage, proud as hell over what I see.

She’s hyping the crowd up, screaming the lyrics of Kid in the Back Row into the mic while she gets them on their feet. Jumping and pointing, leaning out toward the masses while basically riding the mic stand. Leo is crushing this show better than she ever has, and every motherfucker out there is eating it up.

I glance back at Lucky when he slows the double petals, his gun metal gray eyes colliding with mine long enough to know he’s seeing exactly what I do.

A goddess on stage.

Preaching to her followers, praising them for their blind devotion and loyal worship,

No one could forget Leonor Allan, not with the passion in her heart and the fire in her belly.

It was silly for her to think that, almost crazy for this woman to believe for one second that anyone who’d ever crossed her path wouldn’t remember every detail of the encounter. Knowing her the way I do, the way we do, I know why she felt that way and it was valid, even if it was unwarranted.

Leo makes a lasting impression on everyone no matter how they know her.

Growling into my mic to give some bass to match my girl’s, my lips brush against it while I nod to the beat before quickly side stepping toward the center where I meet Norman and Pete.

We face each other, the two of them on the same page as Luck and I, the four of us slowly building the music back up while Leonor does what she does best.

The anticipation of a beat drop is always so intense, it’s always electric but right now, with the five of us in the headspace we’re in, with the love we share practically echoing out of the speakers, this is next fucking level.

Especially when our girl turns to us, waiting for the exact moment to light it up with a smile too evil to be as beautiful as it is and with a wink, she blows us a kiss, spins on her heel and delivers exactly what the crowd is screaming for.

A dirty fucking blegh and a breakdown heavier than most of the ones we’ve written, and it has them fucking roaring.

“Okay, New Orleans,” Leonor pants into the microphone a few minutes later. She places it in the stand before dragging it back toward Lucky’s platform. “I’m sure some of you remember that the Kid in the Back Row is usually our closer.”

I smirk as I unhook the bass guitar around my neck, handing it to a roadie as the masses of people give Leo an almost pouty response. She has then wrapped around her finger and she knows it. Hell, our girl is eating it up just as much as they are.

They go silent as she motions for everyone to calm down, looking over her shoulder as Luck leaves the platform before checking with the three of us who are now sans guitars. “But since this is our first show in a long fucking time, we have a surprise for you.”

Everyone within range of the stage, each fucker inside the Fillmore loses their goddamn minds as the crew rolls out Leo’s piano. They position it as close to the edge as possible, leaving just enough room between her and our fans as few more rush out with my cello, Norm and Pete’s violins, and Lucky’s small timpani. I never thought stools could get a reaction from anyone but as they bring ours out, setting them up in a semicircle facing an insane crowd, I’m proven wrong.

Everyone is losing their goddamn mind.

Up until Leo quiets them again, taking her seat on the piano bench—her fucking throne—before leaning into the mic above the keys. “We thought, since we missed you so fucking much, we’d share something from the new album before we split.” She holds up a hand to keep them silent, and I’ll never not be amazed by the way they follow her every command. “You’ve been amazing, New Orleans, and you will always be the heart of The Ravens. We love you so goddamn much.” Leo drops her slender fingers to the keys, briefly looking to her right then left to make contact with each of us, then, seductively as fuck says, “From Resurrection: The Life and Death of Leonor Poe and The Ravens, this is Nevermore.”

The crowd pops for a few seconds before I lead with the cello, a whimsical and almost sad melody that twists my guts every fucking time I’ve played it but it’s fucking beautiful. And it causes them to get quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Pete slowly joins in, his violin matching the mood, a blanket of sorrow unfolding in his notes, coaxing Norm to follow suit in a bit of a higher key. Luck starts on the timp, the tune and tempo blending seamlessly, the beat like a funeral march headed straight for the pearly gates as the anticipation grows with each part we play. And when our girl takes a sip of water before those tattooed digits start on the ivories, a goddamn ghost haunting those keys, one that’s been bottled up inside Leonor for four fucking years finally free.

That night

The death of me

The witching hour song

Echoed as my soul died

He took it away

You begged me to stay

Numb and bleeding

Shattered pieces on the floor

Barely breathing

Heart broken into four

Falling

Drifting

Fading

I couldn’t reach you anymore

Every fragment and shard

They belong to you

Screaming Nevermore

Bruised and bleeding on the floor

Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel

Didn’t know what was fucking real

Screaming Nevermore

The fear

The pain

That’s when the darkness came

No light

No angels

Fuck those pearly gates

Hell on swift wings

The devil was a man

A forked tongue and a blade

He took you away

The ghost of you

Haunting

A memory

Buried in a grave

But the dead wouldn’t stay

Screaming Nevermore

Bruised and bleeding on the floor

Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel

Didn’t know what was fucking real

Screaming Nevermore

Blackest of skies

Split and pierced

Thunder silenced

The raging storm was quiet

Found my shelter

Solace

Refuge

There all along

The brightest light

Scared the demons away

Vanished

Damned

I just needed you to stay

Screaming Nevermore

You picked me up off the floor

Breathed life back into me

Showed me what it meant to finally feel

Because of you I can see

You are the only thing that’s real

Screaming Nevermore

Screaming Nevermore

Bruised and bleeding on the floor

Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel

Didn’t know what was fucking real

Screaming Nevermore

Screaming Nevermore

You picked me up off the floor

Breathed life back into me

Showed me what it meant to finally feel

Because of you I can see

You are the only thing that’s real

Screaming Nevermore

Nevermore

Screaming Nevermore

Nevermore

Screaming Nevermore

Leonor wrote the lyrics.

Every word from her heart.

She took one of the most traumatic things to ever happen to her, something that literally and figuratively ended her life, and she turned it into a song.

A love song she wrote for us.

“That was fucking amazing!” Leo says while basically galloping backstage to our dressing room. She’s so goddamn beautiful when she’s happy. “Fuck, that was so good!”

“It was,” I chuckle as she pushes open the door. “You were incredible tonight, sugar.”

Spinning to face me, Leonor throws herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck before slamming her lips against mine.

The kiss is frenzied, it’s intense and as Leo bites my lip, I feel someone’s breath on my neck.

“He’s right, sweets,” Norm says as he smiles against my skin, his hands moving down my sides toward my hips.

Our girl slides down the front of me, grabbing my belt and pulling me toward her with that wicked grin, her intentions beyond clear and dancing in those dark as night eyes. I track her carefully as she tugs my belt free and can’t help the growl that rumbles from my chest as Lucky and Pete walk around us, our beautiful giant gently grabbing her throat and kissing her hard as Peter bites her shoulder and goes for her fly.

The post show high is going to be insane now.

It was always so intense, so extreme but now? With the five of us so deep we’re basically drowning in love? I’m not sure this dressing room can handle it.

Not that I have time to really think about it.

Not when I can feel Norm’s dick against my ass as he turns my head and kisses me. Not when his hand makes its way into the front of my jeans, those long fingers of his wrapping around my cock and squeezing tight. Almost all of my coherent thoughts fly right out of my head as my sweet boy quickly comes around to my front and drops to his knees, working my jeans open quickly while I watch Pete and Luck take Leonor’s clothes off.

And just when her perfect tits are free, right as three of us are about to lose our pants, our girl surprises everyone in true Leonor Allan fashion.

“Stop,” she essentially moans as she prevents those two from dropping their drawers. “Hold on.”

We all look at her, jaws slack while we barely blink.

Which makes Leo laugh. “Believe me when I say, I want nothing more than for the five of us to fuck like wild animals after one of the best shows we’ve ever played, but…” She takes a deep breath as she backs away. “I think we need to celebrate.”

“Uhm…” I look down at Norm, still poised for an epic blowjob, then lift my head and glance between obviously erect Peter and Lucky. “Isn’t this celebrating?”

The boys all echo their agreement but our girl just giggles before inching around the couch to get to her bag.

“ Yes ,” she says sarcastically, unzipping the duffle before digging in. “But we have people, our people waiting on us, family and friends who want to celebrate with us and…”

Lucius pushes his hands back through his hair then lets out a defeated sigh. “Yeah, she’s right. Pete’s sisters came all the way out here.”

“And Nanny…” Norm gives me a half smile then chuckles as I frown.

“That’s enough to take me out of the moment.” I visibly shudder as he buttons up my fly. “That old bat would kill a boner created by ecstasy and Viagra.

Pete shrugs then starts tying his dreads into a knot. “Ok, princess. We’ll let you have this now but when we get back to the hotel, we’re taking turns punishing your perky ass for giving all four of us blue balls.”

We all laugh at that, agreeing with a few reluctant grunts but when I notice Leo hasn’t moved let alone responded, my gut flips. “Leonor?”

I help Norm to his feet then start toward her.

“Leo, sugar, what…”

Stopping beside her, my heart starts slamming against my ribs when I see what is unmistakably blood dotting her hands. “What the fuck?—”

“Call Franc.”

“What?” Luck barks as the three of them join us. “Why do you want me to call my fuckhead brother right now?”

Slowly and with trembling hands, Leonor turns to face us, nodding repeatedly as a single tear rolls down her cheek before her eyes drop to her outstretched palms.

And there, sitting in the crimson stained ivory, still wet and dripping, are two eyes.

Leonor is holding a pair of eyeballs.

Real, human eyeballs that she found in her bag.

But what really does it, what has fear ricocheting throughout my entire body, is the fact that I’m almost positive I know who they belong to.

Leonor found Pierre’s eyes, her father’s severed eyeballs in her duffle bag after our comeback show, and if there was anything that could get me to haul ass out of New Orleans, this is fucking it.

NORM

Justine showed up at the same time the police did.

She took one look at the sea of blue and charged through every barrier they set up.

I’m almost positive she knocked out a rookie beat cop.

The determination on her face outweighed any fear she might have felt and that woman was so fast to get to Leonor we didn’t have time to catch her.

Or prepare her.

The blood was still on Leo’s hands, the way she was shaking. The fact that she actually started to cry. All of it had us coming unglued so when our girl’s mama saw her like that, I think Justine was ready for one hell of a fight.

Until she found out whose eyes were now in an evidence bag.

Taking a drag from my cigarette, I watch the way she’s holding Leonor. Tightly, almost too tight, while she strokes her hair and sways them side to side. They’re wrapped in a blanket together, cocooned under one of Lucky’s throws that was in the back of the beast while Mark and Pete keep watch. They’re both tear stained with flushed cheeks, both of them staring vacantly while they cling to each other. We brought them chairs but neither of them will sit down, and they won’t leave the police tent in the parking lot despite the fact that our girl gave her statement a half hour ago.

I’m not too upset about that.

I don’t ever want to let Leonor out of my sight again, and I think the four of us are one step away from throwing both of them into the van and taking off to literally anywhere that isn’t here.

They’d fight us, though.

No matter what’s happened, no matter how bad shit might be, neither one of those women would leave this city permanently and I’m sure if it caught fire, they’d both be ready to go down in the flames.

Not that it matters to the men who love them—to us because we’d deal with the fight if it meant we didn’t have to see either of them cry like this anymore.

“I’m sure this was just some ridiculous prank, a sick joke,” Franc says, the edge in his tone drawing my attention back to him and Lucius. “Some kid trying to get a rise out of you after all the bullshit.” He scribbles something down in his stupid little notepad as I face them fully. “Doesn’t help that she made you take those photos. Egging people on. That was basically an open invitation for every psycho to come out and fuck with you.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Franc,” Luck spits as he takes a step toward his brother. “I asked you to do your goddamn job and nothing more. Last time I checked, taking statements and securing the scene covered most of that since you never get your hands dirty so just fucking do that so we can get our girl the hell out of here.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job, Lucius. If you hadn’t gotten back with that deceitful whore , none of this would have happened.”

I flick my cigarette and slide between them as fast as I can, barely separating them enough to keep Lucky’s hands off of Franc’s throat.

“He’ll charge you with assault.” He ignores me in favor of growling something in Italian over my shoulder, trying like hell to move me out of the way. “You have to calm down, babe. We have to be there for Leo.”

Lucky’s eyes snap to mine, a storm raging in his irises but his expression softens and he takes a deep breath. “Right.”

“Right.” I give him a small smile then cup his cheeks, smoothing my thumbs under his eyes and whisper, “Don’t let him get to you, ok?”

“Ok.” Lucky takes another deep breath, dips his chin and gives me a quick kiss before an almost diabolical grin spreads across his handsome face.

One that lasts all of two seconds before I’m pushing Lucius backwards because of his dickhead brother.

“Fucking sick,” Franc grumbles, shaking his head. “Bitch really ruined all four of you.”

“Close minded bigot,” Lucky hisses.

“Freak show faggot.”

“That’s enough,” I growl as I spin, grabbing Franc by his lapels because I’ve fucking had it. “This is not the time or place for your self righteous and unresolved bullshit. A goddamn crime was committed, you were called to investigate, end of the fucking story.”

Franc narrows his eyes, staring at me like I’m the bane of his existence and just when I think maybe we can actually get back to handling the eyeball situation, he smirks.

“She’s a fucking curse. A goddamn disease. Leonor Allan is a cancer that has spread through the four of you dumb shits, infecting you from the inside out, and she will be the death of you. That whore will kill you in the end, just wait and see.”

Without warning, I’m shoved damn near across the parking lot, skidding on some loose gravel, my balance thrown so hard I almost go down but I don’t miss the aftermath.

Lucky has Franc by the throat, squeezing his windpipe as he slams him into the side of a police cruiser, a look on his face I have never seen before. He towers over him, unbridled rage painting every inch of his body and before I get my act together enough to get between them again, Pete comes flying across the asphalt.

“Listen here you pompous little fuck,” Lucius says as Peter tries—and fails—to pull them apart. “If I find out any of the statements or evidence, any fucking thing collected here tonight suddenly turned up missing or misplaced , that some half wit beat cop decided this wasn’t worth looking into because it was all just a fucking prank , I will make you regret the day I was born a hell of a lot more than you already do.”

“Fuck off,” Franc chokes out. “This is assault on an officer and?—”

“And what ?” Lucky squeezes his throat a little tighter, leaning down so they’re eye level.

Which is when I finally get my act together and hop up to go help Pete.

“That’s what I thought.” Luck shoves him into the side of the car one more time, letting go and lifting his hands as he allows us to start walking him backward. “Do your fucking job, Francesco.”

“Lucky,” I grunt, pushing at his chest and praying he just shuts up. “Luck.”

He smirks, never taking his eyes off his brother. “And stay the fuck away from Leonor.”

“Lucius,” Peter growls. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Stay away from all of them, Franc! You or one of your cronies need anything from one of my people, you get it through me!”

I give him a hard push as we get closer to Leonor. “Shut up, man.”

“Lucky?”

All three of us spin toward the sound of Leo’s voice, my stomach pitching over how small and shaken it is.

“Everything is fine, baby cakes.”

Her nose scrunches a bit, disbelief in her red rimmed eyes as she takes one step in our direction. She pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders despite the heat and humidity, and that just reiterates the one thing we’ve all seen flashes of since we left the dressing room.

Fear.

Leo is afraid, she’s actually showing it, and that last thing she needs is any of us losing our shit and getting locked up because we’re seconds from combusting.

“Honest,” he says as we surround her, Lucky immediately pulling her close. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

Our girl nods against him before maneuvering so she’s within touching range of Pete and I, holding his hand tightly behind Lucius while pulling my arm around her waist. “Franc isn’t going to be a problem, is he?”

“Francesco is always a problem,” Peter grunts as I say, “No, it’s been handled.”

“You’re sure?”

I nod firmly as she looks me right in the eye. “Franc isn’t going to be an issue, sweets. He’ll make sure they investigate the way they’re supposed to and?—”

“That’s not good enough!”

We all follow the sound of that shrill voice and, sure enough, Justine has officially lost her shit.

Mark is holding her back, both arms around her waist as she takes a fucking swing at the officer and Fillmore security she’s screaming at. “You say you had people all over the backstage area? At every entrance and exit!”

Security nods.

“Bullshit! That’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard!” Justine fights against Mark, swinging her arms and kicking her legs as he keeps her at bay. “If that was true, if any of you stupid bastards were doing what you were supposed to be doing, my daughter wouldn’t be on the verge of going into shock because some two-bit demon put pieces of her daddy, of my husband, in her bag! If you sons of bitches did your goddamn job then neither of us would have had to relive one of the worst moments of our lives but since that wasn’t the case, I’m suing! I’ll have your badges. You’ll never be able to work in this town again!”

“Justine,” Mark says while fighting a smile and lifting her off the ground. “That’s enough, mama, your cub is fine.”

“Hardly!” She screeches. “My Leonor is not fine and bologna apologies for incompetence isn’t going to fix what y’all have put us through!”

“Should I go over there?” Leo asks, not moving one inch but staring at the scene Justine is causing just like the rest of us.

Lucky shakes his head. “Nah. Markus has her.”

“Barely.” Our girl snorts as a smile curves her full lips. “I swear Justine has superpowers.”

“She does.” I chuckle a little as I hold her closer.

“Like skinning someone alive with her words alone,” Pete says as he visibly shudders then leans his head on Luck’s shoulder. “There isn’t anyone on the planet I’m afraid of except her.”

And as that angry mama tiger is thrown over Mark’s shoulder before he marches her to us, I can’t help but agree.

I’m not afraid of whoever this is after Leonor now, just like I wasn’t afraid of Hastings back then. I fear for my girl’s safety, for her well being and state of mind, but I’m not scared of the demons that have seemingly always chased her.

Just like the rest of the guys, I’d lay my life down for hers in a heartbeat, and I’ll do anything within my power to protect her.

The problem is, we’ve always felt that way, always tried our hardest to do that, and we’ve failed. More than once, we’ve failed Leonor, and I’m starting to worry it could happen again.

If this bastard can be everywhere he is, doing everything he does without detection, without leaving any evidence or clues, how can we keep our girl safe?

It’s like protecting her from a goddamn ghost and even us Louisiana natives don’t have a fucking clue how to do that.