9. Sam

Chapter 9

Sam

S houts and screams erupt outside the VIP area, drowning out the music. One of the security guys with the band pushes past us and shoves his way through the crowd in the direction Lane Maxwell went only a few minutes earlier. Jase and Lucas follow.

I turn to Chase.

“Stay here. I don’t know what’s going on out there but I’m going with Jase and Lucas.”

Chase’s eyes flash with anger. “I’m not made of glass, Sam. I’m going if you are.”

“Look, this isn’t exactly your crowd, okay? I’m used to huge guys rushing at me. It’s been a few years for you.” I press a hand against his chest. “Stay. I’m serious.”

I run after Jase and Lucas and stop short right before the shit show taking place on the makeshift dance floor.

Lane and Brixton are in the middle of a biker gang, and if I’m being honest, the bikers aren’t doing too well against the rockers.

The bouncers from the front door are pulling the guys apart. Band security is getting in on the action, too. Lane’s nose is bleeding, not that it slows him down at all. Brixton sidesteps one of the bouncers and lunges for a big bald guy, knocking him backward into a group of people shining phones on the scene. He lands on top of the guy and swings his fists at the guy’s face and gut.

“Never fucking lay a finger on one of my friends again,” he yells.

Jase and Lucas groan, probably seeing the exact same thing I do. And they’re no strangers to being caught on video while brawling. Although theirs was a case of self-defense.

I narrow my eyes at Brixton.

The guy was ready to snap before Lane showed up.

Did he unleash all that rage on these guys just because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time?

A nagging feeling in my gut tells me that’s a very good possibility.

“We need to get them out of here,” Jase says, edging through the people surrounding them. He heads for Lane.

I head for Brixton.

He’s still on top of the bald guy, now his fists are clenching the sides of the guy’s cut and he’s pulled him to a seated position. Blood pours from the guy’s nose and Brixton’s eyes have taken on a psycho glimmer.

I grab his arm and pull him backward. “You’ve got to get out of here now. There are phones everywhere.”

He slowly turns his head to look at me and fuck me, it’s scary as all hell, like some inner demon has taken over his body and mind. If his head starts spinning, I’m getting the hell out of here.

“I’m not done yet,” he says.

It’s a risk but I yank him to his feet. The bald guy collapses back on the floor but those damn phones keep flashing.

“Get your fucking hands off me. I don’t need your help. And I don’t fucking want it.” His voice is low but I hear it damn clearly.

Forcing a smile, I tighten my grip on his arm and bring my head close to his. “If you don’t want to end up in jail tonight, then you’ll walk the fuck out of here now before the cops show up.”

“Fuck jail. I didn’t do anything wrong. I was defending my friend.”

I wave a hand around me. “You think all those videos are going to tell the same story?”

Brixton glares at me but allows me to nudge him toward the exit.

“Take them through the back. Don’t go to the front. We don’t need any more hassles,” Rex says, scrubbing a hand down the front of his face.

Sirens blare in the distance and once of the bouncers rushes us out the door.

“Shit,” Ben mutters behind me.

“That motorcycle club has been giving us a lot of trouble over the past few months. Always starting shit. I hope this’ll get rid of them for good.” The bouncer checks up and down the street before letting us out. “You’ve still got time.”

Three Escalades wait in a line. I peer over my shoulder. Chase is in the back with the rest of the band.

“Hurry up and get in,” Rex says to us, giving me a quick shove toward the first truck. I jump in the back, followed by Brixton, Ben, and Rex.

The door slams closed.

“Drive to the hotel,” Rex says. “Now.”

The Escalade speeds out of the lot and down the dark street. Once we get to the corner, flashing red lights fly past us in the opposite direction.

I let out a shaky breath and shoot off a text to Chase letting him know I’ll meet him back at my place after we get dropped off at the hotel.

“Fuck, that was close,” Ben mutters, pulling out his phone. He lifts an eyebrow at Brixton. “You want to tell me what that was all about so that I’m prepared for the social media fallout that I’m sure is only seconds away?”

Brixton lounges back against the leather cushioned seat. “Mr. Clean came at Lane for staring at his girl. I walked out of that hallway and saw him smash Lane in the jaw. Lane went down and I went after the guy and his buddies. I was defending my friend. Fuck anyone who tells it differently.”

“It’s all perception,” I say. “You know what happened to Jase and Lucas. What makes you think you’ll be saved when you just beat the hell out of a guy so bad, he couldn’t even get himself off the floor?”

“He’s lucky I didn’t yank out any of the metal hanging off his face.” Brixton’s lips curl upward into a nasty smirk. “Next time I bet he’ll think twice about taking a punch at someone. His dick must be the size of a peanut to be that wound up over a skanky ass girl checking out another dude.”

“You’re really twisted, you know that?” I roll my eyes.

“Whatever, choir boy. I protect the people I care about. Wouldn’t you have done the same thing? I mean, you are a do-gooder, yeah?”

“Screw you. How the hell am I the one on trial when it’s you who assaulted that prick?”

“It’s not assault if you’re defending someone,” he shoots back. “It’s self-defense.”

“How the hell is it self-defense when nobody attacked you ?” I narrow my eyes. “Although, if you’d given the guy a minute, I’m sure he’d have found one of many reasons to pummel your ass, too. ”

Rex snickers. “Can’t argue that.”

“Brixton’s actually right,” Ben says. “California law permits you to act in defense of not only yourself but others.”

Brixton chuckles. “Gotta love this state. And fuck you very much, Rex. Just so you know, I’m not gonna defend your scrawny ass if someone comes for it.”

A loud pinging sound rings out. Then another. And another. Suddenly, it sounds like a slot machine hitting a jackpot at a casino in here.

“Jesus Christ,” Ben moans, staring at his screen. “It’s already trending on X and the videos are being uploaded everywhere. YouTube, TikTok, Instagram.” His phone bleeps, over and over and over until my ears ring.

“The label is going to flip the fuck out.” Rex shakes his head, staring at his own phone. “It may not be assault, but it still doesn’t look good for you, and that reflects on the band and the label. The lawyers will have to get involved, you’ll need to do a press release, then a press conference making a formal apology.”

“Fuck that.” Brixton stretches his arms overhead. “I’m not apologizing to anyone. I don’t have a damn thing to be sorry about except that I didn’t knock the guy unconscious.”

“You’re so sadistic,” I mutter.

“Some guys like that about me,” he murmurs back. “Don’t be so quick to judge if you don’t know what you’re missing, choir boy.”

Rex and Ben are too busy strategizing to listen to us.

My throat tightens when Brixton’s eyes, glittering with intent, capture mine.

“Holy shit,” Ben says, looking up from the screen. He hands his phone to Rex, whose jaw drops.

“Wait…what the?—? ”

Suddenly, he picks his head up, his eyes wide as he looks from me to Brixton.

That look.

I don’t like it.

And I definitely don’t trust it.

Rex holds up the phone.

“Brixton’s ass kicking isn’t the only thing trending right now.”