Author's Note:
All characters are at least 18 years old in this story. There is incest and graphic sexual content, if that's not your thing, then you have been forewarned.
This part picks up immediately following the events in Part One of the story. It is highly recommended that you read Part One first so that you know what is going on. I hope that readers enjoy it.
Constructive feedback is appreciated and I respond to all reasonable email.
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My alarm snapped me awake well before dawn the morning of the show. I sat up on the edge of the bed and stretched for a moment, collecting my not fully coherent thoughts. After a quick shower, I got dressed in khaki cutoffs, a faded gray Built To Spill shirt and sneakers. Grabbing my backpack and double checking to make sure I had the tickets, I wandered down the hall to make sure Skye was up and ready.
She was no more of a morning person than I was and answered her door while mid-yawn. I paused a moment to take in her look. She was wearing a loose skirt with black leggings and a white sleeveless t-shirt that had SPC ECO printed across the front in black letters. The straps of a black bra peeked out beneath the shirt at her shoulders. All of that combined with her black Mary Jane shoes gave her the look of a hot chick that would no doubt turn heads at a rock concert. Hell, she had my attention already and it was not yet six in the morning.
"Too early," she yawned.
"It's a long drive. We gotta get going."
"Coffee."
"Not enough time. Gotta get going. We'll stop somewhere closer to Edgerton and grab some breakfast."
She peered at me through one squinted eye as if contemplating whether or not to take a stand on the coffee issue but found herself interrupted by another yawn.
"Move it, zombie." I stepped aside and followed her as she shuffled down the hallway.
She fell asleep in the passenger seat before we got to the first red light leaving the house.
I didn't wake her until we pulled into a Waffle House about an hour outside of Edgerton. We sat across from each other in a booth and sipped coffee while we waited on our order to arrive. She folded her arms on the table and laid her head down on them, looking up at me with a tired crooked smile.
"Thanks for letting me sleep in the car."
"Just remember you may have to help keep me awake for the drive home tonight." I chuckled.
Skye sat up as the waitress dropped off our food and scurried away to help the next table. I watched her coat her chocolate chip waffle with syrup and wondered what sort of defect was going on in her taste buds to make her want to order such a thing. I had a feeling the sugar rush she was about to experience might be bad enough to need to lock her in the trunk for the rest of the ride to the venue just so she wouldn't be bouncing around the car like a lunatic.
"So listen," I began, pointing a piece of bacon at her. "When we get there, You need to stay with me, okay? Don't wander off."
"Sure, daddy. Do you want me to hold on to your belt loop, too?" She gave me a smirk.
"I'm being serious, smart ass. Sometimes things get kind of out of hand at these shows."
"Like what?" She shoved a piece of waffle in her mouth but was paying attention now.
"Like sometimes, in the crowd, some asshole decides to take advantage of the anonymity to feel up a pretty girl. Grab her ass. Especially the girls that decide to crowd surf. I've heard of much worse things, but if you stay with me, you'll be fine. It's not that I don't think you can take care of yourself, it's that these assholes I'm talking about tend to be chickenshits and usually won't try anything if the girl is with someone."
"Whoa. I didn't think of that."
"I probably make it sound worse than it is, but I've seen it happen before. Never saw anything as bad as a rape, thankfully. But I've seen girls get felt up and stuff. One girl last year punched me thinking I was the one who did it. I hadn't, but I think the guy next to me may have grabbed her. I don't know. I felt like shit regardless, even though I hadn't done anything. Just being accused of it sucks. But the thing is, I don't want anything bad to happen to you. Pretty girls are targets for these shit heads."
"You think I'm pretty?" A shy smile crept across her face.
"You're beautiful and you know it. Stop fishing for compliments." I sighed in mild annoyance at the selective listening habits of girls.