Yes, but was it even possible for him to go it alone? The metal genre consisted of bands, not solo artists. Xane Geist belonged in a rock band. And that band had to be Black Halo, because when it came down to it, it wasn’t only Xane who made up the group. Ash, Spook, Rock Giant, Elspeth, even Steve Matlock on drums, they all had their roles to play. It was their combined influences that made the band. Wasn’t it?
‘Will you speak to Ash tomorrow?’ she asked, recalling the lead guitarist’s attempt, when they were leaving the arena, to set a timetable for negotiation. Not that she’d understood at the time that’s what it was.
‘No.’
‘Why not? He might have a plan to get you through this.’
‘He won’t.’
‘But how do you know if you haven’t talked …’ She stopped, Xane wasn’t listening, and he’d returned to the bottle. Only a small dribble remained in the bottom, most of the contents having spilled onto the floor. He stared morosely at the dregs, then swallowed them.
‘You know getting plastered isn’t going to help. You need a clear head to patch things up.’
‘And you need a hearing test. It’s over. And you still haven’t given me a surname.’
‘It’s Fosbrook, OK, and I’m not about to pass out.’
‘Next of kin?’
Dani shook her head. No. They weren’t going there. Xane was never, ever, ever meeting her mum, talking to her mum or getting anywhere near anyone who could be vaguely construed as her family. If something happened to her while she was with him, then it was better they weren’t informed.
You’ve kissed the devil, Dani. You’ll have to atone.
She quickly shut out the voice of Sister Anna in her head.
She hadn’t kissed the devil, only a man. And really he’d kissed her. She hadn’t initiated anything. They couldn’t chastise her for that. It was totally in the spirit of St Agatha. She’d been passive and meek.
But you enjoyed him kissing you. You want him to do it again. Admit it, you little whore, you’re dying for him to take off your shirt, fondle your breasts and pull down your knickers. You want him to shove his great big dick inside you. You’re turned on just by the idea of looking at it. That’s why you keep sneaking glances at those photographs.
Not to mention the ones she was stealing at his crotch. He might have an overly high opinion of himself and a sucky attitude, but, whether he understood it or not, he’d seen her through many lonely nights. Perhaps it was only fair that she saw him through this one in return.
‘I’ll sleep on the couch,’ she announced.
‘Will you now? I don’t remember offering.’
‘You just handed me a duvet.’
‘I’ll be needing that back on my bed. Maybe that’s what you’re angling for.’
‘No.’ She pushed herself into the corner of the sofa away from his glorious body and his heady scent, fighting the near irresistible urge to say ‘yes’ and jump right on top of him. ‘I’ll be fine here.’
‘I’m not fine,’ he said as though he didn’t expect anyone to acknowledge he’d spoken. For a moment, his mask slipped and she saw right into his heart, knew his pain, recognised him as the man who’d written all those lyrics that made so much sense to her.
Taking a deep breath, she asked, ‘Why have you split up?’ Maybe if he shared the problem it wouldn’t seem so insurmountable.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Xane huffed, shaking his head. He chucked the empty vodka bottle in the direction of the waste bin. It missed and rolled back towards him, so he kicked it under the sofa. ‘It’s just how it is. Everything has to end sometime. Now’s that time for Black Halo.’
She didn’t buy his attempt at being philosophical.
‘But something must have caused it. Maybe if you told me what it was I could …’
Xane’s jaw locked so rigidly she could see the tick of his pulse beating beneath the skin.
OK, scratch that idea. He wasn’t going to get into the nitty-gritty of why he’d taken a machete to her dream band, because – and she had to remind herself of this fact – they weren’t actually friends. Xane didn’t know her from any of the other countless women who fought their way backstage on a nightly basis to meet him. The nights they’d spent together supporting one another through untold woes were fantasies, nothing more.
Contrary to what Ginny believed, and what Xane himself had assumed, Dani’s primary fantasy about him didn’t involve sex, although she wasn’t entire guilt-free in that department. Certainly, if he kissed her again she’d probably make a complete twit of herself, by not being able to keep her hands off him, thus destroying the façade that she wasn’t interested in screwing his pants off.
Primarily, Xane was her silent guardian. The person she spoke to in the dark when she was alone. Xane was the one who understood her pain. When he sang, he expressed all the things she couldn’t: her fears, her stolen childhood, the hollow ache left behind by her father’s departure. Xane held her hand and chased the monsters away.
One could hardly blame them for running. He was pretty scary in all his stage paint. Even now, when he was so obviously hurting, his shocking visage still had the power to scare the beejeezus out of somebody.
‘Should I phone someone for you? Maybe if you had a close friend come over, they’d be more help.’
‘I don’t have any close friends. I spend all my time with the band.’
‘OK.’ It looked as if it was her or nothing. She lifted one corner of the duvet, inviting him in. If he refused to communicate, maybe they could sit in companionable silence. They didn’t have to talk, or drink or kiss. They could simply be here together for a while. ‘How about we forget the band for a while. Why don’t you tell me what you’re feeling instead? And why you’re so chewed up inside.’
Xane contemplated her invitation without moving. He stared at her as if he wasn’t convinced she was real. After a long, uncomfortable pause he asked, ‘Do you know what it’s like to have to give something up because it’s so bad for you it’s destroying you? Has anyone betrayed you like that? Someone you thought you could trust? Someone you really loved?’
‘Yes,’ she admitted. Yes to all of it.
They way he looked at her with those pale-grey eyes, like he could see right into her, made her feel horribly exposed, but she endured it, and fought the urge to clam up.
‘I’m not suggesting what we’ve been through is the same, but you’re like me – you’re hurt in the same way. You’re tearing yourself apart trying to please people, while utterly failing to please yourself. It’s all in your lyrics. That’s why I liked you.’
She’d said it now, everything she’d ever really wanted to say to him. Admitted it all, and there was no way of taking it back.
‘I see,’ he said, biting his knuckles. He turned away.
‘Xane,’ she said tremulously.
He froze with his shoulders hunched. Very slowly, he looked back at her. ‘I need a shower. And to wash this crap off my face.’
Dani caught hold of his hand. ‘I like it, even if it’s smudged.’
His fingers curled against hers and briefly squeezed tight. She thought he was saying thank you, until she looked up and realised he was swaying and was probably just holding on for support.
‘Are you going to manage?’
‘Don’t know. Are you offering to give me a hand?’
Somehow,