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Yeah, good save.
“I’m not sick.”
Crap. He was at a loss here. “Talk to me, then.”
She shook her head.
His hands tightened into fists as something else occurred to him. “Did someone fuck with you?”
“What? No!”
“Are you sure? If they did, you can tell me.”
And then he’d hunt them down and fucking kill them.
She breathed out. “No one did anything to me. I’m not s-sick. I just… I can’t play tonight. I just… I can’t.”
He didn’t get it and he wanted to press her further. Demand that she answer him.
Yeah? And how is that working for you so far, asshole?
Not so great.
Taking a deep breath, Brand forced himself to stop and think. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“W-what?”
The surprise in her voice was kind of insulting. But probably no less than he deserved. “Can I help? Is there something you need?”
“B-because you want me on stage. I get it. I’m trying.”
Fuck.
“No, Bumblebee. I mean, is there anything that I can do to help you. Nothing to do with getting you on stage.”
“I’m late.”
“Don’t worry about that. Your guys will sort it.” He’d seen how protective her band mates were of her. It sent a flash of jealousy through him and he tamped it down. From what he’d observed, they treated her like a sister.
Not like they wanted to fuck her.
“I’m m-making a mess of everything.”
“Hey, no you’re not. Stop talking that way.”
He wished he was better at talking to her. At being… softer. Closing his eyes, he took in another breath. He wasn’t good at talking to people. Not unless he was ordering them around.
Either for work or at the BDSM club he belonged to.
Yeah, he was a bossy bastard. But none of the subs he’d played with had ever complained.
At least not to your face.
And if anyone in the band or crew had a problem with him… well, they probably went to Mikey.
“I want to help, Bumblebee. Something happened and I need to know how to fix it.”
He was practically begging by this stage.
