Page 105

“What the hell were you thinking?” Diego yelled, beside himself, grabbing Leaf’s shirt and doubling down. “We both know you can’t take me on! You damn junkie! And besides, I didn’t do anything!”

Leaf felt warm blood running down his neck, but in his daze, he began to laugh. “No … For years, you’ve been flying under the radar with your dealings. But that ends now.” A sudden kick to Leaf’s stomach made him gasp, followed by a blow to the shoulder that brought him to the ground.

For a moment, Leaf lost consciousness. When he came to, he only vaguely perceived his surroundings. Tristan and José were tending to him, while a security guard and the bouncer dealt with Diego. The intensity of Diego’s stare revealed that he was aware he had lost.

Even if Leaf ended up in prison for fighting Diego, it was worth it. Finally, Diego would have the cops on his tail. With a few tips, they would stick to him until they caught him. It was only a matter of time before the man went to jail. Just the thought made Leaf laugh. However, the kick to the stomach had left deeper marks than he would have liked, and he immediately grimaced in pain, doubling over.

More security guards stormed into the hall, attempting to calm the agitated crowd as chaos erupted. José and Tristan helped Leaf to his feet. Tristan appeared tense, eager to escort Leaf backstage, but amid the crowd, it seemed impossible. The path to the stage was blocked, leaving them stuck in the middle of it all.

When Leaf turned his head and saw Diego angrily arguing with a security guard, their eyes met. Leaf couldn’t help it, and a grin spread across his face. That’s when Diego snapped. He pushed the security guard aside and rushed toward Leaf, delivering such a powerful blow that Leaf blacked out. His knees buckled, and he collapsed.

41

–––––

O Captain!

Elbows propped on his knees and face buried in his hands, Tristan sat on the couch in the dressing room, peering through his fingers at the bottle of Jack Daniel’s and the half-full glass in front of him. It was already the third glass. Not that the previous ones had been full, but one hadn’t come close to enough, and two weren’t sufficient. So now there was a third, waiting for him.

O Captain! My Captain!

If only you could see this mess.

He had retreated here after the police had come, cleared out the Whisky, and taken Leaf and Diego into custody. Loud voices could be heard in the hallway. The excitement among the organizers, the bar staff, and the musicians was greater than ever. After all, this time they had made it to the second-to-last song. It was a shame they couldn’t properly thank and bid farewell to the audience, but all Tristan could think about right now was Leaf.

Keeping an eye on him. How is that even possible now?

He heard a click and looked up. Nathan was standing in the doorway with his camera. Apparently, he had just taken a few photos of him.

Sure, and he’s got the exclusive rights to the second disaster.

How much more can Nightstalker take?

“Sorry about what happened,” the photographer said, sitting down next to him on the couch. “Really messed up.”

Tristan reached for the glass and downed it in one gulp. The heat ran down his throat, and he grimaced. Then he poured himself another finger’s width of whiskey while Nathan lit a cigarette.

“Can I sell the picture?”

“Which one?”

“The one just now with you and Jack Daniel’s? Totally iconic for tonight.”

Tristan let out a deep grunt. He then recalled what José had told him. “You were with Leaf yesterday.”

“Yeah.”

A brief silence ensued until Tristan finally spoke. “Fuck, I don’t know whether to hate you or thank you.”

“It’s alright. It was too close. If José hadn’t shown up in time, I, the idiot, wouldn’t have even noticed.”

The voices in the hallway grew louder, and it sounded like a heated argument had erupted between José and Andrej.

“An overdose?” Andrej shouted, upset. “Why am I just hearing about this now?”

“Why do you think?” José retorted. “You wanted to kick him out!”

“And from the looks of it, we have every reason to! God! When did we stop talking to each other? These things need to be communicated—before we go on stage together. I have the right to know what’s going on.”