Pia blew her sister kisses as the band swung into the next song. They were in the front. Naturally, Taviano had gotten them the best seats possible and they could dance right up to the stage where the bodyguards allowed them close. The lights played over them and cameras panned, throwing images up on the huge screens behind and on each side of the band. That way even in the far back, everyone could see Kain and the incredible sexy movements of his body as he made his way across the stage with his blend of hip-hop and R& B.
His music was at times elegant and dark, but always hypnotic. The atmosphere he created with his songs and voice was mesmerizing. When he added in his stage presence and lighting, the moody colors and pounding beats, he enthralled an entire audience from the moment he stepped on stage.
Nicoletta turned her face up toward him, arms reaching, basking in his magic, needing his dark, twisted lyrics that always spoke of the worst of times somehow finding their way to becoming right. The steps were long, the road rocky and painful, the losses heavy, but the agony was worth it in the end. She knew that road. She’d traveled it. She was coming out the other side.
She always felt as if Kain had journeyed similar paths, or how could he write songs so filled with the truth of exactly what it was like to suffer the worst that humans could do to one another and then give hope? He gave hope to millions of listeners through his lyrics. When she closed her eyes and just let his voice and the sounds of his band bathe her skin, flow into her veins, taking her further and further from those few short years when she lived in New York with her three step-uncles …
“Nicoletta?”
She blinked, trying to make the voice Pia’s or Bianca’s. It was too deep. A man’s voice. One with an accent. One far too familiar. She turned her head and found herself staring into a pair of speculative dark brown eyes. The man was close to forty. She recognized him immediately and her heart dropped—nearly stopped beating. Armando Lupez. He was Benito Valdez’s right hand.
Benito Valdez was the head of the bloodiest gang, the Demons, with headquarters in New York. Unfortunately, Benito, just out of prison, had fixated on her and demanded her step-uncles turn her over to him. Right before that had happened, she had been rescued by the Ferraros and just disappeared. No one knew where she was or what had happened to her. She’d been living in Chicago and just assumed that over the intervening years, she’d been forgotten.
All around them darkness embraced the crowd, and lights pounded on and off, the colors once again spreading like a magical web. The pulse of the music should have made those colors bright and harmonic, but instead, they felt sinister and threatening. She glanced past Armando to see two more men she marked as gang members, flanking him. She didn’t recognize them, but that didn’t matter; she knew the Demons had chapters in other cities.
Armando smiled, a slow, evil smile. He had his phone out and showed her a text. “Saw you up on the screen looking so fine and sent Benito a pic. You just get better with age. He said to bring you on home. He has special plans for you.”
Nicoletta didn’t wait. She kicked him hard, smashing her boot into his groin and pulling out her phone as she did so. She didn’t wait to see Armando fall. She shoved at Pia and Bianca to get them moving. “Come on, Clariss, we have to go now. Run. Get to the other side of the aisle.”
They were slow, not understanding, but she grabbed at Clariss’s arm and dragged her as she ran toward the other side of the venue, thankful they were in the very front. There was a crowd they had to thread through, but most were standing. As she ran, she texted Taviano with one hand. Demons here. Spotted me. Chasing me now. Tell me what to do.
Get to west exit. I’ll be there. There was no hesitation. None. He answered her as if he’d been waiting for an emergency.
She sent the thumbs-up emoji.
Could Taviano get there that fast? He hadn’t come to the concert. He was waiting on the plane. She had to believe him. She risked a quick glance to see the exit sign shining in green on the west wall. The distance seemed insurmountable, especially since Pia, Bianca and Clariss insisted on turning back as Kain and the band swung into one of his biggest hits.
“Nicoletta,” Pia wailed, “what are you doing?”
“Run,” Nicoletta said, pushing her again, pouring urgency into her voice.
She glanced over her shoulder. The two men who had been behind Armando were shoving women out of their way and coming after them. A few women screamed, but with the screaming of adoration for Kain up on the stage, it was impossible for security to tell that anything was wrong.
“I’m in heels,” Bianca complained. “What’s wrong?”
“Those men are after us and they’ll kill us,” Nicoletta hissed. “Before they do, they’ll rape and torture you. They’re members of the Demons gang. Now run.”
“Is this a joke?” Pia asked.
Bianca slipped off her heels but paused to look back at the two men coming toward them. One of them shoved a woman so hard using the flat of his hand between her shoulder blades that she went flying over the back of a seat. Bianca gasped and sprinted around Clariss to take the lead. She had no idea where she was going.
“The exit! The west exit!” Nicoletta shouted, trying to be heard above the music and the screaming of the crowd.
“Which way is west?” Pia asked, following her sister.
They were running straight down the aisle now, trying to avoid those standing and dancing. Weaving their way through the tight crowd was difficult and slowed them down. Pia, Bianca and Clariss were hesitant to push their way through. When Nicoletta glanced over her shoulder, the two men were closer. She could see their features now. One man was definitely younger, closer to Taviano’s age, and the other was around Armando’s age. Both looked scary and determined. She knew that if Benito asked for something and he didn’t get it, he was a very vindictive and dangerous man. If he got it, he always returned favors. They would want favors from the leader of their gang.
Abruptly, the three women in front of her stopped moving. The crowd was thick and refused to part to let them through. Bianca looked back at the two men, saw they were close and ran into one of the rows of seated people, pushing through, trying to get to the other side. She murmured, “Excuse me, excuse me,” over and over. Pia hesitated and then followed her sister.
“Bianca, Pia, no! Come back this way!” Nicoletta shouted. Neither even looked back. She doubted they heard her over the loud screams and the pounding beat of the music.
She made a grab for Clariss, who chose a different aisle to do the same thing, making her way toward the middle, where the three women hoped to run back toward the entrance doors.
Nicoletta had to make a choice: follow them, or make her way to the exit and get to Taviano. She inserted her shoulder between two women who seemed to be glued together and pushed between them, ignoring their angry outburst at her. She felt someone grab at her arm, but she pulled it through, keeping the two women between her and the men following her as she tried to get between several more women bunched together. They were jumping up and down, clutching one another and having fun, just as she’d been doing up front.
These women were much more aggressive, not wanting to move and angry that she would try to invade their space. She tried several different ways around them, and none would relent and give ground. She glanced back, and not only had the two men gotten past the first two women, but Armando was with them and he had a gun out. One of the women spotted the gun and his evil smile.