Nightchild

Chapter 70

The opening act began another song and Nate felt the vibrations of the wooden stage floor and rafters above him. Standing, he shook his head and brushed the dirt and webs from his clothing. Soon, it would be time to go on and he thought with amused satisfaction of the panic Vega must be going through, wondering if he'd show up at the last second.

He'd postponed it as long as possible and taking a couple of deep breaths, left the shelter of his cubbyhole and mounted the short steps leading backstage. The hustle and bustle was normal and from the corner of his eye he saw Heathe going about preparations as though he fully expected Nate to appear.

"Where in the fuck have you been?" a voice screeched behind him. Nate turned to face his soon to be ex-manager. "Shit you've got to go on in five minutes! Look at you! Dammit, you're a fuckin' shambles!"

Nate stepped to a broken mirror tacked on a post and gazed at his image. His hair was long and disheveled, stubble had grown above the usually trim beard. His bloodshot eyes were dark, nondescript and there was a heavy peppering of gray in his hair he'd not noticed before. The creases around his eyes and the scar along the brow and cheek gave his face a rugged nefarious look and he smiled at the word. Nefarious was what Blythe had used to describe him, what she claimed had attracted her.

He straightened the collar of the frayed white cotton shirt he'd thrown on in Chance's hotel room, leaving it open at the throat. There was no time to change from the worn jeans or the old comfortable tennis shoes he wore. The opening act was coming backstage now, exchanging compliments and good-luck wishes with Chances Are as they started taking their equipment on stage to set up. Jake walked past, cables in one hand, Nate's leather jacket in the other, shoving it at him, joking casually, "Hell, boss, the more successful you get, the more like a bum you look."

Glancing at him, Nate returned the smile and slipped on the jacket.

Eddie couldn't stand another second. "Jake's right, buddy. You gotta pull yourself together. Tonight's fuckin' important. You're gonna be okay, aren't ya? I mean, fuck, this thing is bein' taped...shit, if nothin' else, think how much this means to the rest of us."

Nate slowly pivoted, his eyes cool, dispassionate. "You just don't get it, do you, buddy? This is it! This is the end of the line. There's no more us!"

In the background, Chance Jennings was going into his introduction of their band, Chances Are.

"Come on, Nathan, you can't mean it. You can't break up a relationship like ours over a broad. Fuck, she wasn't worth it. The kid probably wasn't even yours." A fire melted the ice in Nate's eyes and his temple began to throb. "Shit, be fuckin' reasonable! The bitch even put the make on me. The kid could have been any—"

Nate grabbed Eddie by the shirtfront, lifting him off his feet. He saw Heathe look over and take a step towards them but he shook his head and the giant stopped in his tracks.

"You're not good enough to speak her name, Eddie...you understand that? You disgusted her cuz she knew what you were really about. That's why you hated her. She had you pegged from the moment she laid eyes on you. She couldn't stand being in the same room with you and you knew it. And you expect me to believe she hit on you? She'd rather have died than let you touch her." Nate raised his fist then brought it slowly back down as Eddie cringed. "Shit, you're not worth putting my fist down your slimy throat!" He set the squirming man down then, the murderous look still blazing on his face.

Eddie sighed in relief and a self-satisfied smirk twisted his thin-lipped mouth as he started straightening his clothes. The fury that engulfed Nate at his smug indifference burst like an explosion in his brain and in one deft movement, he grabbed a handful of shirt and gold chains, jerking Eddie forward as his knee came up and slammed into his testicles. With an expulsion for air, he doubled over Nate's arm to be slung back up, pulling on the glob of gold that tangled in the dark mass of chest hairs. Instantly, Nate's fist smashed into the pudgy jaw and Vega's head flung back, the body limp as chains entwined themselves in Nate's fingers and snapped with the force of the blow.