Wild Secret

requisite elements of stardom. They wore short skirts and lacy bras. T-shirts and tank tops cut up and tied tight, exposing flat midriffs. Their makeup was severe and sexy with heavy liner and smoky eyes. They looked like a gang of vampire hunters or a group of girl spies in a B-movie action flick—each with a special power.
Faye greeted us both with a hug. "Thanks for coming!"
"Gotta do our part to support," I said.
"You know the rest of the girls… Sadie, Lexi, Katie.”
JD and I smiled and waved. The girls gave a perfunctory smile back. We weren’t their favorite people. We’d taken their bass player, and there was an air of suspicion and distrust toward us.
"Are the rest of the guys coming?" Faye asked.
"Dizzy and Styxx should be here soon,” I said. "I take it you haven't talked to Crash?"
"I haven't figured out exactly what to say yet. I don't want to make things worse. I need to sort out how I feel. Have you spoken with him? How’s he doing?”
“He’s upset with me, but he’ll live.”
“Why you?”
I filled her in on the situation.
Faye rolled her eyes. “That’s stupid. You gave him good advice.”
It wasn’t long before Dizzy and Styxx showed up.
Shadows of Saturn finished their set and loaded their gear offstage. We helped Lip Bomb set up their gear, then hung back and enjoyed the show.
The crowd swelled towards the stage, and Sadie belted into the microphone while the band rocked behind her. Crush was a small venue, and it was packed full.
The girls put on a damn good show. Afterward, we helped them break down the gear and load it out. I think that's the main reason they invited us to see the show.
We loaded the gear into the back of Sadie's SUV. It was big enough to hold a few amps, speaker cabinets, and guitars. Katie had a system for fitting her entire drum set into the back seat of her car, utilizing the front passenger seat as well.
"You know, you guys aren’t half bad," Sadie said in the parking lot as we finished up.
The glow of a mercury vapor light painted her face. Music seeped out from the club, and the stars flickered above.
"At first, I thought you guys were the typical asshole musicians. But you guys are alright."
Dizzy smiled.
"We ought to do a double bill sometime," Sadie suggested.
The guys looked at each other and, after a brief nonverbal conference, gave a nod of approval.
"I'm sure we can arrange a show where you open for us," JD said.
Sadie laughed. "I was thinking maybe you guys could open for us."
JD frowned at her playfully.
Sadie let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. I guess we can open for you guys. If you twist my arm."
"Talk to Tyson," JD said. "He's the manager."
"I'm all for the idea," I said. "But… I'm not gonna schedule anything until a certain situation gets worked out." My eyes found Faye.
She huffed. "Is he really gonna be that much of a bitch about it? Is he really at the point where he can't be around me at all?"
I shrugged.
"I told you this was a bad idea," Styxx mumbled to himself.
"Excuse me?" Faye said.
"Nothing."
The two exchanged a look.
"Party on the boat?" Dizzy asked, changing the subject. "What do you say, Tyson?"
I shrugged. "Whatever."
Dizzy turned his attention to the girls. "Ladies?"
The girls exchanged glances, communicating telepathically.

20
"Sure,” Sadie said. “Why not? We'll meet you at the boat after we load the gear back into the practice studio.”
The girls hopped into their cars and drove away.
We hung out in the parking lot for a moment.
“Do me a favor,” I asked. “Keep it tame tonight. Don’t do anything that’s going to make the current situation worse.”
“Relax. It’s just a few drinks,” Dizzy said with a disarming smile. “Faye’s off-limits. We get that. But the others…” he had a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“We’ll see you at the boat,” Styxx said with a pat on the back and a mischievous grin.
They headed toward their car, and JD and I walked back to Oyster Avenue. We hustled down the sidewalk. We had parked on a side street a few blocks away. We found the Porsche and drove toward the marina. We cruised with the top down, listening to music, the cool night air swirling around.
“We need to improve the ratio,” JD said. “We’re going back to the boat with four girls, and two of them are off the market.”
“Two?”
“The drummer. She dates the singer for that death metal band, Malice Eternal. We might have to round up a few more prospects. Just say’n.”
The light ahead flashed from yellow to red, and we pulled to a stop at the crosswalk.
Two cars revved their engines, squealed their tires, and launched across the intersection as the light turned green for them. White smoke billowed from wheel wells, and the cars rocketed forward. The Mustang got the jump off the line, but the Corvette quickly made up ground.
The rip of exhaust echoed through the night air.
At 2nd gear, the driver of the Corvette lost control.
The car spun out and careened across the oncoming lanes of traffic, narrowly missing a vehicle. Rubber tracks stained the asphalt. The Corvette plowed into a telephone pole on the corner, and the hood cracked and crumbled, splintering fiberglass. The brand-new pumpkin orange sports car was a mess.
As soon as the light turned green for us, JD banked a hard left and sped to the crash site a block away.
The Mustang was long gone.
The driver of the Corvette tried to get the car started but couldn't get the engine to turn over. It was a prior model with a front engine before they switched to a mid-engine design.
I hopped out of the Porsche and stormed toward the driver’s side of the Corvette. With my weapon drawn, and my badge displayed, I shouted, "Coconut County! Out of the car, now!"
The kid kept trying to get the car started, but it wouldn't turn over. The airbags had deployed, and the kid was dazed.
"Out