Someone needed to teach the guy a lesson.

Sed entered the tour bus first, his bruised and bloodied band mates behind him. Myrna sat at the small square dining table working at her laptop computer. She glanced up and her pretty hazel eyes widened in surprise.

Sed massaged his scalp. Fuck, what a night. Topped off with telling Myrna he’d broken his promise and failed to keep Brian safe.

“What are you guys doing back so early?” Myrna asked. “I thought you’d be out until dawn.”

Sed blew out his cheeks as he tried to think of the right words. “I have to apologize to you, Myrna.”

Her brow furrowed and she glanced behind Sed to Eric. Her eyes widened. “Oh my God, Eric. What happened?”

She jumped from the bench seat and pushed Sed aside. Easing Eric onto the cream-colored leather couch, she inspected the bleeding gash over his left eye. She turned, hurriedly wet a dish towel in the small stainless steel sink, and moved to dab at the blood running down the side of Eric’s strong jaw. Eric winced, but smiled with pleasure as she fussed over him.

“Were you in an accident? Wait…” She looked at Sed. “Why are you apologizing to me, Sed? You didn’t wreck my car, did you?”

He opened his mouth to explain, but she lifted a hand to stop him.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter. It’s just a car. At least you’re all right. Where’s Brian?” She glanced at Trey, who was searching the freezer for ice. And then Jace, who was trying to realign his jaw by shifting it back and forth with his horribly swollen and bloodied hand. “Where’s Brian?” she repeated, a panicked edge to her voice.

“Brian’s safe. We weren’t in an accident, Myrna.” Sed cleared his throat. It hurt to talk. How in the hell was he going to sing tomorrow?

“Then what happened?” She headed for the bus exit, anxiety marring her lovely face. “Brian?”

Brian stepped around the corner wearing Sed’s mirrored sunglasses. “Hey, sweetheart. How was your evening? Did you get a lot of work done?”

Sed chuckled and shook his head. He’d wondered why Brian had wanted to borrow his shades. Like Myrna wouldn’t notice his two black eyes at the altar tomorrow.

Myrna flew into Brian’s arms. He winced in pain, but she had her face pressed against his neck, so didn’t see his expression. “You scared me,” she said. “I thought you were hurt.”

Brian wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “I’m okay.”

Sed glanced at Trey, who was now holding a towel full of ice to the back of his head. “You need to call your brother.” They were opening for his brother’s band the next evening. Or they were supposed to. They weren’t fit to perform now.

“I’ve had enough ass whippings for one day, thank you very much,” Trey said. “You call him.”

Myrna removed Brian’s sunglasses and looked up at him. He avoided her gaze. “You’ve been fighting?”

“Wait, wait. I can explain.”

She shoved him hard in the shoulder. “Am I marrying a seventh grader? I can’t believe this.”

She spun on her heel and stalked toward the bedroom at the back of the bus.

“Myrna.” Brian started after her.

“Do not talk to me.” She pushed Sed aside. “You were supposed to make sure he got home safely,” she spat at Sed.

“Myrna,” Sed said, but she brushed past him and entered the bedroom. The slam of the door echoed through the entire bus.

Brian rushed down the hallway and knocked. “Myrna? Sweetheart…”

“You should let her cool down,” Sed advised.

“Go away!” she yelled from inside the bedroom.

There was a thunk as something hit the other side of the door.

Brian opened it, sidestepped an airborne high-heeled shoe, and closed himself in the room with the angry tigress. There was a whole lot of high-pitched yelling for several minutes, and Brian’s lower pitched voice, calm and consoling. The rest of the band sat quietly nursing their injuries.

“What are we going to do about the concert tomorrow?” Eric asked. “Can you sing, Sed?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. My throat is bothering me. I can call Dare if you want, Trey.”

“They won’t have time to find a replacement to open for them. We might as well wait until morning and see how we feel,” Trey said. “God, my head hurts. Do we have any aspirin?”

One of the bouncers had whacked Trey in the back of the head with an aluminum bat. By the time Sed had entered the fray, it had been over. He hadn’t even gotten to throw a punch.

“Do you need to see a doctor? You blacked out for a couple of minutes.”

“My head’s harder than a bat. I don’t think it’s even bleeding.” Trey fingered the goose egg on the back of his head and examined his fingertips for signs of blood. “I do need an aspirin though.”

Sed retrieved a bottle from the tiny bathroom near the bedroom. The sound of Myrna calling Brian’s name in ecstasy had already replaced the angry yelling.

Sed grinned and nodded toward the thin bedroom door as he handed a bottle of aspirin to Trey. “I guess they made up.”

Trey chuckled. “Who can stay mad at Brian?” He swallowed several pills and passed the bottle to Eric.

“I’m glad they made up,” Eric said, holding the dish towel to the gash above his eyebrow. “I’d have felt terrible if she called off the wedding.”

“You should feel terrible,” Jace said, his voice quiet, his brown-eyed gaze focused downward. “You started the whole thing.”

“Well, I didn’t ask for your help, little man, now did I?” Eric said.

Jace pursed his lips and nodded slightly. He left the bus without a word. Outside his Harley roared to life and the motorcycle’s rumble faded into the distance.

“Why do you always torment him, Eric?” Sed asked.

Eric shrugged.

“He didn’t hesitate to jump into your fight when you were outnumbered.”

Eric rubbed a hand over his pursed lips and then squeezed his cleft chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, I know. It’s just… He’s not Jon, you know?”

Thank God for small favors. Sed knew that Eric and their previous bassist, Jon, had been close friends, but the guy had been bad news. They were much better off with Jace in the band.

Trey licked at the blood at the corner of his mouth. “Did you see the way Jace fought? I’ve never seen him fight before. I was like, holy shit. He pounded the crap out of three bouncers all by himself. I’m pretty sure little man could kick your ass if he wanted to, Eric.”

“Shut up, Trey.” Eric scowled.

Trey shrugged and glanced up at Sed, who stood leaning against the back of the booth. “So what are you going to do about Jessica?”

Sed’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of her name. “Nothing. Obviously.”

“Obviously?” Trey turned over his towel of ice, pressed it to the back of his head, and winced. “You pulled her offstage at a strip club. There’s no obviously about that.”

“I was just… surprised. I don’t give a shit what she does with her life.”

“Uh-huh.” Trey sounded almost as convinced as Sed felt.

Jessica’s heart sank. “Fired? You can’t fire me over this. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Roy, the club owner, cleared his throat, refusing to look at her. He reminded Jessica of a bloated Elvis, minus The King’s good looks. Men should not wear white spandex or sequins—separately or in combination. Especially not hairy, overweight men. “Have you seen the condition of my bouncers? Your friends—”

“They aren’t my friends.”

“Then why are you protecting them?”

Jessica shook her head, her eyes wide with feigned innocence. “I’m not.”

“By the time the cops got here last night, they were long gone. If you’re not protecting them, tell me their names and where to find them, so I can press charges.”

“I don’t know them.”

“I don’t believe you.” He considered her for a long moment. “Clear out your dressing table, Feather. I don’t want to see you in my club again.”