Don’t Try This At Home
Nick was in a fantastic mood. He hummed to himself as he nearly skipped down the long hallway that stretched down one side of the arena that the Backstreet Boys were going to perform their first show of the newest tour in later that day. He’d woken up feeling energized and righteous, and he’d known that today was going to be a great day.
The last tour had been phenomenal, despite the constant dying, and he had immensely enjoyed spending so much time with the guys from New Kids on the Block. He’d been the youngest member of the group, as usual, but they’d all treated him as though he wasn’t nearly ten years younger than them.
The NKOTBSB tour had also revitalized the Backstreet Boys’ passion for the group as a whole, Nick thought, as he waved cheerily to one of the crew members as he passed. Sure, they loved the group and were crazy about their work, but going nuts on stage and having as much fun as possible? Well, that had been lost until the summer of 2011.
And, now, they were back, and Nick felt freaking on top of the world! He had a mission, and he knew that this tour was going to help him fulfill it.
“Somebody got laid last night,” a wry voice called out behind him, and Nick turned to find Howie walking towards him, his three year old son, James, running ahead of him.
Nick caught the little guy as he nearly plowed into Nick’s legs and tossed him in the air, making him giggle gleefully. “Hey, there, Jimbo!” He ignored Howie’s annoyed growl at the nickname Nick had given James as a way to piss Howie off. “Are you going to take the ladies on the backstage tour with your dad? Show the girls what you got?”
James clapped his hands excitedly and grinned. “It’s gonna be awe-some. But Daddy said not to let the girls too close.” He leaned towards Nick and whispered not quietly at all, “How comes the girls can’t gets too close? I like the girls! Mommy’s a girl, and she and Daddy are always close. Yessirday, Daddy even let Mommy puts her hands-”
Howie clamped a hand over James’ mouth and glared at Nick. “I don’t know how you do it, Carter, but you’ve managed to corrupt my kid. He’s supposed to think girls have cooties until he’s at least ten!”
Nick rolled his eyes but managed to stifle a laugh. “Oh, Howie, Howie, Howie. You have so much to learn.”
Growling at Nick, Howie tucked James under his arm and stalked off, leaving Nick to chuckle to himself before he focused his mind on the task at hand. He checked the little Wylee tote he’d let Leighanne talk him into carrying—she’d designed a more manly one just for him—and made sure that everything he needed for the afternoon was inside.
Smirking to himself, he headed off towards the main stage where he was supposed to meet up with the rest of the group to start the backstage tours for their fans. He loved showing off for his fans, and he knew that this was going to be an event to remember.
An hour later, Nick wrapped up his tour, answering the dozens of questions that were pitched at him by his tour group of fifteen women, young and old alike. One of them had caught his eye, and he couldn’t help but let his gaze drift to hers, making her blush and smile each time.
She was pretty, her long dark hair curling loosely down her back. Her green eyes sparkled at him, and—he raked his eyes down her body—she had a hot body.
She was perfect, Nick thought slyly and winked at her. His smile widened when her blush deepened.
As he led the rest of the group back to the main area of the venue, he hung back a little, letting all of them walk ahead of him. As the brunette he’d been eyeballing walked slowly past him, he stealthily reached out and let his fingers caress hers. He quite enjoyed the way she jumped a little before she glanced his way and smiled at him.
“Read the note,” he murmured, giving her a sexy look as he palmed a piece of paper off to her. “I’ll see you soon.”
The fan looked like she was going to faint from excitement, but Nick knew her enthusiasm was no match for the fervor that was building in him.
It was nearly time.
By the time soundcheck was over, Nick thought he was going to die from anticipation. When he found his chosen lady waiting exactly where he’d asked her to, he grinned ecstatically at her and knew he’d made her pulse bump considerably since he could practically feel it racing under her skin when he wrapped an arm around her to lead her right where he wanted her.
He smiled to himself at the thought of her blood, all that pretty, pretty red pulsing so close, so very close. To distract her, he nuzzled his nose against her neck as he steered her down an empty corridor towards a room he’d already picked out.
When he kicked open the door and backed her through it, she giggled, not caring that the place was dark, dank, and smelled like machinery, and Nick realized that this was going to be even easier than he thought.
“Close your eyes,” he told her in his sexiest voice and smiled when she complied. “Do you trust me, baby?”
She giggled again. “Of course, Nick. Why wouldn’t I trust you? I’ve been in love with you since I was twelve!”
“I like that,” he told her as he reached into his tote for the Wylee bandanna Leighanne had insisted he take, too. “What’s your name?” he asked as he tied the strip of cloth around her eyes.
“Rachel,” she replied breathily. “Are we playing a game, Nick?”
Nick eased her back to where he wanted her against a wall and stroked a finger down her arm, making her shiver. “I like games, don’t you?”
“With you? Of course!” Rachel tried to reach her arms out for him, but he caught them and, lifting them over her head, wrapped another bandanna around her wrists and looped it over a hook on the wall.
“Be patient,” he whispered in her ear. “I promise, you’ll love it.”
Quickly now, he spread her legs and trapped them both against the wall, all the while assuring Rachel that this was a game that they were both going to win.
When she was positioned just the way he wanted, Nick walked over to the bank of switches on the opposite wall and flicked a few of them. The sound of music filled the air and drowned out the hum of the industrial drill, which sat on a rolling cart in the center of the room.
Rachel’s expression flickered into a frown now. “Nick, what-”
But her question was drowned out when he pushed the cart against her, pinning her legs to the wall to keep them from thrashing as the drill ground through her sternum, spattering him with blood. He was lucky, he mused, to have found an industrial drill because the handheld one that one of the confused crew members had found for him would’ve taken a lot more energy and strength to crack through her bones. It was more suited to home improvement projects, rather than more… macabre “project” Nick had in mind.
When Rachel’s body had stopped moving for the most part—Nick didn’t mind the twitching much—he pushed the cart aside, unhooked her from the wall, and, dragging her body to the ground, got to the fun part.
Three days later, when a member of the arena’s maintenance crew entered the repair shop to find a toolbox to fix some of the chairs that a bunch of crazy boy band fans had trashed in their excitement, he was shocked and horrified to find a mutilated body, lying in congealed blood, in the center of the room.
Her torso had been gutted viciously, and her limbs stuck out at odd angles. Curiously enough, the number “2” had been carved into her skin several times, the most prominent being on her forehead.
Three hundred miles away, Nick heard the news report as he poured bright red ketchup all over the French fries he was eating—his one weakness—in a diner. While Brian exclaimed over the coincidence of the murder happening in the same arena that they’d played in just a few days earlier, Nick smirked to himself.
Two down…so many more to go.