The Sirens of Catalunya Pt. 03

Author's Note:

I've split this novel into four sections for publication here. If you haven't read parts 1 & 2, I strongly suggest doing so before proceeding. All sensuality (on page or otherwise) takes place between characters who are eighteen or older.

Twenty-Two

"What was that?" Izzy muttered worriedly, interrupting a lengthy debate between his companions about whether progressive rock should be classified as rock, or forced into its own distinct genre.

"I was just saying that concept albums aren't necessarily limited to prog rock." Sofi replied reasonably.

He shook his head. "I meant why did the engine catch." He then felt the engine power dip once more. "See! It did it again."

"Are we out of gas?" Liv asked from the back seat.

He double-checked the gage. "Nope. Two-thirds full. And we've got no warning lights."

"Do you think we should pull over?"

"Maybe. Although, I'll warn you, I'm the shame of males everywhere with my complete lack of automotive acumen."

Ali raised her hand like a primary schooler with a question, and declared, "I can state with absolute confidence that you are more male than every petrol head in the world combined."

"So jealous," Sofi grumbled.

"Soon the wonder that is Izzy's cock will you know," Ali rasped in a reasonable approximation of a diminutive space wizard.

Sofi's response was interrupted by another, more noticeable, catch from the engine followed by an eerie silence.

"Oh, no," Liv murmured worriedly. "Not again."

"At least we're on the ground already," Izzy observed as he pulled off the state highway onto an empty side street.

They had been travelling through the mountains of western Virginia since leaving their hotel an hour prior. The roads they travelled offered unlimited access, with frequent side streets being heralded by endless signs alongside the road, but they were still unquestionably highways which permitted speeds in excess of one-hundred kilometers per hour. Izzy found a small side-street which appeared to be an abandoned single-family home development and put the large sedan in park.

For want of a better strategy, he pulled the bonnet release and climbed from the car. His companions soon joined him to gaze upon the mystery that was the engine bay. Izzy started touching random cables but found nothing which seemed to be disconnected. Liv located the fuse box and also seemed to find nothing amiss.

"How far have we gone since we bought this thing?" Sofi asked suddenly.

"I'm not sure," Izzy replied as he experimented with one of the dipsticks.

"Hang on," Sofi grunted before he heard the door to the car open. She returned a moment later holding the paperwork from the sale of the car. "This delightful chariot has a six-liter engine. According to the owner's manual, it gets a bit over eight kilometers per liter and has a seventy-liter tank. If the engine was brimmed, we'd have been good for about five-hundred-and-fifty kilometers. We've only gone about two-fifty, but does anyone think they actually topped off the tank when we bought this thing?"

Izzy shook his head. "No way." He sighed and added, "I can't believe I was so stupid. That dumb gage has had the same reading for two days and I didn't notice anything amiss."

"Come on, Izzy," Ali chided. "You almost never drive anymore. None of us do. We go everywhere in buses or hired cars. In any case, none of us noticed anything wrong either."

He pulled his phone out and glanced at it briefly before muttering, "And of course there's no service here." He shook his head woefully before adding, "I guess I'm walking. That last town we passed wasn't too far back."

"We'll come with you!" Liv announced.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Izzy retorted. "You three are just too recognizable. It's not hot out today and this place is sufficiently remote. You all can just stay here and lock the doors. I'll be back in no time."

"Are you nuts?" Sofi yelped. "We're not letting you go by yourself. What if something happens? We should practice the buddy system."

He snickered. "What are you proposing?"

"I'll go with you. That way I can carry you to safety if something goes wrong."

Ali guffawed. "I'd pay to see that."

Sofi whirled to face her and snapped, "You! Shut up. You already got yours. I'm not letting him out of my sight until I've gotten mine."

"What if I have to hit the head?" Izzy quipped.

"Then you'll have help" Sofi retorted firmly. "With that gentleman's sausage you're packing, it's little wonder you don't injure yourself daily just trying to wrangle it." This earned her a laugh from her companions, but her face remained earnest. "I'm serious Izzy. If you intend to walk to civilization, then I'm coming with you." She gestured at her companions and added, "They can stay here and guard the car."

He looked to the two taller women questioningly, prompting Liv to say, "Go ahead. We'll be here when you return."

Izzy took a moment to grab a knapsack out of the trunk, and toss in a few water bottles and snacks to go with a Sofi-sized hoodie, before they set off. He set a deliberately sedate pace in deference to her smaller stature. She quickly started to outpace him, forcing him to accelerate to a more typical walking pace.

After several moments of silence, she murmured, "I'm not a child, Izzy."

He looked at her in confusion. "I know that."

"Do you? I'm only seven months younger than Ali. As for the hobbit thing, I'm the same number of centimeters shorter than Liv."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because sometimes I'm not sure if you see me as a woman, as opposed to a girl."

He frowned in frustration and thought for a moment before saying, "There is a world of difference between doing something for you because I care about you and doing that same thing because I think you're incapable of doing it yourself. Being a gentleman isn't about reinforcing the patriarchy, it's about showing all of you how special you are to me." She made no response for several long moments, prompting Izzy to add, "Ali told me one of the reasons she and I..."

"Had the greatest evening of her life and gave her permanent bragging rights?"

He sighed before continuing, "Indeed. She said the reason she was nominated is because you all thought I might be concerned about... um... making love to you."

"Are you?" she asked primly.

"It's not inconceivable that I could potentially hurt you, honey. And not just you. I outweigh any one of you by a significant margin."

"You think I care?" she barked angrily. "Do you honestly think there's anywhere in the world I'd rather be than between you and a comfy mattress? The thought of your sweet body covering me fills me with both yearning and serenity. Not dread."

"Spoken like a generationally talented lyricist."

"Don't change the subject," she snapped.

"I don't think you're too little for me, honey," he groaned. "You're perfect."

"Then why are you refusing me?"

He threw his arms up out of sheer frustration. "I'm not! I never said anything of the sort. It was you three who decided to try to engineer things based on assumptions you made about my fears and motivations."

She fell silent for several minutes. As they walked, his peripheral vision reported several instances of her glancing in his direction. But every time he looked her way, she was pointedly looking straight ahead. He felt the repeated instinct to say something to alleviate the awkwardness, but nothing felt sincere. He was thus left with no choice but to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

At long last, she broke the silence with a tangent, "Why do you always refer to me as a lyricist?"

He looked down at her. "Is there another term you'd prefer?"

"I'm more than just a chick that writes words that rhyme."

He came to a stop and stared at her in wonder. After several deep breaths, he managed to stammer, "I know that. Of course I know that. You are a million incredible things, and only a few of them have anything to do with your music. The fact that you're one of the best drummers, and best singers, and best lyricists, I've ever even heard of, is only part of the amazing person you are."

She pouted up at him and whispered, "You really don't think I'm too little?"

"Hell no!" he insisted angrily.

She snuggled up against him and sighed in contentment when he wrapped his arm around her. They walked in silence for several moments and quickly found how they fit together despite her significantly shorter stride.

After a comfortable pause, Izzy said, "You really think progressive rock is superior to, say, grunge. Or British Invasion punk?"

"Don't get me wrong. I'm a huge fan of punk music. Just not for the lyrics. That's the trouble with most of what's called rock on the mainstream charts. It's all about such uninteresting drivel. Songs about getting laid or getting paid just can't move the needle for me."

Izzy nodded. "Agreed. Although, as you said, there are exceptions. I think most lyricists just can't tap into the soul. And most of those that can, either can't write complimentary music, or weren't lucky enough to be paired with someone like Liv. That's why I knew immediately how special you guys are. Song writing is a mystical incantation that, in my opinion, can't be taught. You've either got it or you don't. Hell, Roger Waters only writes about three things: his parents; the war; and Syd Barrett going insane. And he wrote some of the best songs of all time. Every Layne Stanley song is about the drug addiction which would eventually kill him, but they're incredible. You don't have to be like Neil Peart, writing about Ayn Randian dystopian futures being saved by the discovery of a guitar, to be a great songwriter. Your song How Could You brings tears to my eyes every time I hear it."

"Same," she replied softly.

"So," he prompted playfully. "Does all this lively debate mean you're considering writing a concept album?"

"Thinking about it," she confirmed teasingly. "But Liv is freaking out about it. She's worried we can't draw the whole album together thematically."

"It's a daunting task. Especially for someone with no training in composition."

"I know," she sighed. "She's such an instinctive song writer, but she can't ever admit it. She does things without knowing the science or theory behind why they work. It just sounds right to her, and it's amazing."

He smiled. "Perhaps we could make use of a silent partner for the next album. I happen to know someone with a masters in music composition."

Sofi shook her head. "I'd rather toss this whole album in the bin than risk messing up our dynamic by bringing someone else into our inner circle."

He snickered before responding, "And who makes up this vaunted inner circle?"

She looked at him quizzically before saying, "Well, the three of us... and you... and that's it. I know so many historic bands collaborated with..."

"Sofija?" he interrupted gently, causing her to fall silent and look up at him expectantly. "Do you honestly think I spent the decade during which I ran that shitty recording studio just mindlessly booking one doomed band after another?"

She shook her head somberly. "I always figured you were sitting in with most of them. I mean, they'd be crazy to not want to use you. You're incredible."

"None of those bands could have cared less. They were all irretrievably convinced as to their own greatness. No, I spent the time a bit more productively. Most bands want to work late, so I took classes in the morning. It started off as something to fill up my time, but it quickly turned into something I was genuinely intrigued by."

"Did you write anything during your studies?"

He smiled. "Tons of stuff. But none of it is worth a damn. My gift, if you could call it that, isn't composing. Oh, don't get me wrong. I can improvise a decent enough guitar solo, but that's not the same thing. I'm like the kid who grew up obsessing about movies, then went to film school, then spent a decade making trash student movies; only to ultimately give up and go into editing to make enough money to buy groceries and discover, to their complete amazement, that they have a genuine gift for it. Not everyone was destined to be in the limelight, but there's serenity in discovering that your place in life is to support those that change the world."

"I'm not sure our music rises to that level, babe. And saying you support us feels so hollow when compared to how much you actually do."

He shrugged. "Like I said. We each have our role to play."

"Perhaps?" she countered playfully. "But that all changes now. Because your name is going on our next album."

"I was on the last three," he replied, referring to the acknowledgements section printed in tiny font at the end of the liner notes."

"But not as a producer, and writer, and feature soloist."

"Honey," he complained. "That's too much. It's not self-deprecation, or whatever you want to call it, when I say that all I want is for you three to know every bit of success you deserve. You don't have to elevate me to make me feel appreciated."

"Izzy!" she snapped angrily. "I'm not suggesting we prop you up out of some misguided sense of altruism. I'm saying you're far better qualified to do all those things than anyone else we could hire. This isn't charity, this is us asking for your help."

Another long silence stretched between them before Izzy finally murmured, "Thank you."

"You're welcome!" she yelled in obvious frustration.

He smiled at her. "Are we arguing right now?"

"No!"

"I see," he replied with a chuckle. He then noticed something ahead of them and huffed, "Well, would you look at that?"

"What?" Sofi asked softly.

He gestured toward what was unquestionably their sedan slowing and pulling off onto the emergency lane as it approached them.

Twenty-Three

"Um... did one of you secretly learn to be a master mechanic in the last hour?" Sofi quipped as she climbed into the backseat beside Izzy.

"Are you nuts?" Ali retorted playfully from behind the wheel. "I needed help to figure out how to adjust the seat."

"A very helpful member of the state patrol happened by and gave us a few liters of gas," Liv supplied. "We then drove to a town which was just a few klicks down that side-road to fill up before coming back to pick you guys up."

Ali put the car back in gear and pulled onto the highway. "The cop suggested we stop again in, like, an hour. That way we can top off again and figure out our actual efficiency, so we'll know how often we have to refuel."

Sofi, who had buckled herself into the middle seat, snuggled comfortingly against Izzy and said, "So... this cop. Was he hot? Did you guys need to reenact a porno scene on the side of the road where Liv caused her tits to accidentally fall out while she pretended to look at the engine? Or maybe Ali stuck that spectacular ass out and the cop nearly t-boned an embankment because he was so distracted?"

Liv laughed out loud. "She was very attractive, but I suspect she was just being a good public servant rather than acting on a belief that we'd show our thanks by climbing into the backseat with her to show her why our strap-on will one day be inducted into the sex toy hall of fame."

"No!" Ali barked. "That one's mine! It literally says 'Ali's Fuck Stick' on it."

Izzy chuckled before saying, "I'm not sure if I'm meant to be concerned or turned on."

"Why not both?" Sofi quipped.

Liv swatted Ali playfully. "I figured you'd be in favor of retiring it after last night."

"Izzy's perfect penis is unquestionably the only living thing which will enter this girl's hoo-hah from now on," Ali declared loudly.

"What about fingers?" Sofi asked.

"Or tongues..." Liv added.

"Or whole hands if you're turned on enough..."

"Or..."

"Fine!" Ali shouted. "Any of you are welcome to stick anything you like, be it part of your anatomy or otherwise, inside any and all of my holes at your leisure. Bonus points will be awarded for combinations. But no one else!"

"Score!" Liv announced. "Dibs on the strap on."

"Why?" Izzy asked before his higher brain functions could initiate an executive override.

Sofi leaned over and murmured, "Because my hands are smaller."

"Oh," he grunted.

Sofi held up one of her hands and pushed her fingers and thumb together to form the shape of a point before adding, "Just let me know if you want my help finding out if prostate play is as awesome as you've heard."

"I'm good," he barked immediately.

"The offer remains open," she replied with a laugh.

She then dropped her hand into his lap in such a way that it nestled against the not insubstantial bulge in his pants. Rather than taking issue with his erection, she seemed comforted by it. She leaned her head on his shoulder as she languidly stroked the outline of his shaft.

She gripped him briefly before murmuring, "Is this ok?"

He smiled down at her. "It's wonderful."

She sighed contentedly and resumed her gentle massaging. Her movements felt to him to be more of a thorough effort to memorize his anatomy as opposed to actively trying to pleasure him. Her fingers purposefully traced the head of his manhood before sliding toward his root to gently fondle his balls.

Looking up again, she whispered, "You can touch me too. If you'd like."

Izzy slid his hand from her arm to cup her firm B-cup breast through her faded t-shirt. He gazed down at her in wonder in response to what he felt there. He leaned in and murmured, "When did you take your bra off?"

She smiled up at him. "Who said I ever put one on this morning?"

Liv snickered. "I think we're all in the no-bra-club from now on. Unless we're going to be in public for extended periods of time."

Izzy looked up to discover that the busty beauty was watching them unapologetically from her spot in the front passenger seat. He winced in embarrassment at the notion that their petting had been observed.

Sofi responded by sliding her hand down to his knee and then slipping it inside his shorts to begin a tantalizing trip back up his inner thigh.

Liv sighed softly as she rested her chin on the back of her seat, a wistful expression on her face.

Izzy looked at her worriedly. "We can stop..."

"Why?" she asked in genuine confusion.

"Because you might... I mean... I know you wanted to..."

She smiled brightly. "You still doubt us?"

"No," he protested with a squeak which was helped, at least in part, by the sensation of Sofi's nails dragging deftly along his scrotum.

"Then why would you think I wouldn't want you and Sofi to make each other happy?"

"Because I know you want..."

Her smile widened and she said, "Are you suggesting you've changed your mind about making love to me?"

"Of course not."

"Then make us both happy, Izzy. Unless it would make you uncomfortable for me to watch."

"No..." he replied quickly. "That's... I mean... it's fine. I mean... that would be lovely."

Liv shifted around slightly to look at them from the other side of her headrest. "Are you sure? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Really, really. I'm not sure what you call this relationship you lovely ladies have devised..."

"I think we should call it a harem," Ali interjected from the driver's seat. "Although I think we're more of a polyamory since we all fuck each other interchangeably."

"Been doing some research?" Sofi quipped.

"I'm a Virgo," Ali retorted with a shrug. "I'm not comfortable when things are undefined."

"In any case," Izzy continued. "I think Ali kind of made my point for me. If you all desire to be with me..."

"I thought we'd finally moved past this," Sofi groaned.

"I'm not doubting you," Izzy hastened to add. "Just recapping for those who missed last week's episode."

Liv smirked. "Is this a reality show, or are we talking prestige television which stops just short of showing penetration?"

Sofi's hand slid further up the leg of his shorts to grip his shaft before saying, "No reason it can't be full-on porn. Some of the studios produce narrative series, after a fashion."

"Gods, that feels amazing," Izzy groaned.

"Good."

He took a deep breath before continuing, "All I was trying to say before is that if we're all going to be with each other, then there can't be anything which isn't common knowledge. Everyone has the right to know all the comings and goings. I can't stand the thought of ruining your cohesiveness out of jealousy."

Liv gave him a curious look before saying, "You can't possibly think we haven't thought this through completely. We love each other, Izzy; we have for nearly a decade. And we've been intimate with each other for nearly as long. The only thing we had to figure out was how to integrate you into our throuple to make it a fully functioning four-sided relationship."

Ali added, "We know you won't make things weird, Izzy. That you could never be jealous of us being together when you happen to be away, or when you're completely bushed because you just saved us from certain death. You're just not wired that way."

"So, trust us," Sofi continued. "We've spent years working out the details for this."

"We're not asking you to sacrifice your judgement here, babe," Liv said. "If you're uncomfortable with something, you must tell us. For instance: if the thought of me jilling off while I watch Sofi suck your dick does anything but turn you on, please say so. Sofi will still suck you off, but Ali and I will be thoroughly focused on the road ahead. You won't even know we're here."

"That strikes me as particularly unlikely," Izzy huffed.

"But..." Liv began, but she fell silent when she realized he was still speaking.

"Which is why it's so fortuitous that I'm fairly certain I love the idea of you watching."

Liv smiled teasingly at him. "Fairly certain?"

"Well... I'm still trying to wrap my head around the concept of any human wanting to see me without clothes on, although you ladies are doing a wonderful job of reorienting my thinking. Plus, the thought of you pleasuring yourself to anything is super sexy. I'm not even sure my mind is capable of contemplating you doing that so close to me while Sofi..."

"Sucks your incredible cock until you explode down my throat?" Sofi whispered as she used the hand not currently ensconced in his shorts to open his fly.

"Jesus," he hissed as she pulled his throbbing manhood free of its confinement.

Without removing her hand from his shorts, she lowered her head to his lap and took his pulsing cock into the heated confines of her mouth. She continued her patient study of his penis, her tongue slowly swirling around his tip. Far from being dainty, her efforts soon led to a stream of saliva cascading down his towering shaft.

Sofi pulled back and gulped in a chattering deep breath before saying, "Take your pants off."

He looked around at the lonely, but by no means empty, highway on which they travelled and said, "But we're still in public."

"Trust me when I tell you," she huffed. "If you don't take them off, you'll look like you pissed yourself. As far as I'm concerned, the word sloppy is assumed where the topic of blowjobs is concerned."

He complied without complaint. As he was kicking off his boxers, he said, "This seems awfully one-sided."

"Check you out. First you don't want to take your pants off in the discreet confines of our rad sedan's backseat, now you want me to sit on your face in broad fucking daylight."

He shrugged. "I'm game if you are."

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Consider your bluff called, sir."

He unbuckled his seatbelt as he said, "I wasn't bluffing."

Izzy released her belt as well and pulled her into his lap for a moment before he twisted sideways and laid across the seat. Sofi shifted her hips around until she was kneeling in the footwell next to his shoulder. This allowed her to crawl back onto the seat with one knee on each side of his head. His body spasmed in pleasure, both in response to his cock sliding between her lips and at the discovery that her perfect pussy was visibly drenched beneath her demure skirt.

Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her hips and gripped her firm ass to pull her smooth slit down to meet his lips. Her taste was like a drug, their lengthy hike creating the perfect mix of musky and sweet dripping from her exquisitely tight folds. Pulling her even closer, he sank his tongue into her core.

Despite his focus on her pleasure, it was impossible for Izzy to completely ignore the spectacular things she was doing to his penis. Her deliberate technique had transcended languid pleasure to a new plane of ecstasy. One of her hands was focused exclusively on his testicles, gently caressing them and soaking the soft skin in the saliva that streamed down his shaft, while the other maintained a firm grip on the base of his shaft as though to make certain that he would achieve release at precisely the moment of her choosing. Her mouth continued to focus the majority of her attention on the head of his cock, sluicing copious amounts of saliva around his tip as she alternated suction with taking his manhood to the entrance to her throat.

Sofi shifted slightly to give herself a better angle as she loudly forced him deeper into her mouth. This allowed him to regain a small measure of his hearing, at least enough to hear Liv's anxious panting over the sound of the road and the guttural sounds of Sofi's efforts. In that instant, his efforts to forestall his own release were shattered in a tsunami of shared pleasure. He desperately sank two fingers into Sofi's core and lathed her clit with his tongue in what he feared was a futile effort to help her join him in release.

"Oh, God," Liv moaned insistently.

The sound of her pleasure shattered the last of Izzy's resolve. His hips jolted as the first eruption of his orgasm filled Sofi's pleading mouth. She squealed in delight around his pulsing manhood and ground her glistening pussy onto his lips. Her essence bathed his face as she joined him in release. The pleasure was overwhelming. For every spasm of pleasure coursing through his body, there was a corresponding shudder of bliss from his lover.

As Izzy's orgasm crested and began to subside, Sofi crawled down his body in an effort to lap up the last remnants of his release. His body jolted with each flick of her tongue until she relented and rested her weary head on his thigh while she recaptured her breath.

After she climbed off him to give him a chance to sit up, he spotted Liv intermittently panting breathlessly and sucking the glistening moisture off her fingers. She smiled at him and murmured, "Thank you."

He gaped at her in amazement. "Why are you thanking me?"

"That was beautiful," she replied simply.

Sofi tucked herself into his lap and looked up at him expectantly. He ducked his head to kiss her passionately, heedless of his taste on her lips. At length, she sleepily whispered, "I love you, Izzy."

He pulled her close and said, "I love you too."

Twenty-Four

Izzy's comfortable slumber was interrupted by the gradual diminishment of motion and sound in the aged sedan. He shifted around minutely to ease the tension in his back, a movement which highlighted the fact that Sofi was still nestled against his side. He opened his eyes to spot that they were stopped in choked traffic on an expressway.

"Where are we?" he rasped.

Ali glanced at him in the review mirror, and he could see the weary smile in her eyes. "Northern Virginia. It would seem that our unscheduled fuel stop, for want of a better term, dumped us right into afternoon rush hour."

"Shit," he grunted. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing, babe. I have been thinking, however, about getting out of this slop for a little while. It's not like we're in a hurry."

"Definitely. Let's do it. Did you have anything in mind?"

"I honestly don't care at this point."

Izzy glanced at the clock on the dash to discover that Ali had been driving for over four hours and hissed in frustration. "I'm so sorry honey. I never meant to sleep for so long. I didn't really even intend to sleep at all."

"It's cool, babe. I'm glad you got some decent sleep for once. And it's good to know that all it takes to knock you out is a God-tier blowjob."

He smirked at her in the mirror. "I slept perfectly last night, as you well know."

"You make my point for me," she retorted with a teasing grin. "Does that mean you're not pissed that I woke you up for round two at four in the morning?"

"You could have kept me up all night, and I would still have greeted the dawn an impossibly happy man."

"Regardless, I'm glad you got some extra sleep."

"I just hope I didn't snore too much."

"Are you kidding? I couldn't hear anything over Liv sawing logs up here."

"Did not," Liv groaned sleepily as she sat up in the front seat.

Sofi straightened up and stretched like a cat who had just lost its favorite sunny spot on the living room floor to the scourge of a passing cloud. "We're all going to owe Ali big time. Not only was she the only one who didn't get off, but she also had to deal with a car full of people in orgasm comas all afternoon."

Ali shrugged. "It's cool. As you pointed out earlier, I topped off my orgasm-o-meter... orgas-mom-eter... or-gaz-meter... last night."

Sofi laughed out loud gregariously, her head tilting back as her cackling filled the car. "That last one's definitely a keeper. Zero chance someone will think you spent the night on the toilet if you drop that polysyllabic monstrosity."

"Shut up," Ali hissed as she looked in the review mirror anxiously.

Liv leaned over and whispered sotto voce, "He's been in our lives since we were all too young to drink. I think he's likely figured out by this point that you, occasionally, need to make use of the bathroom for purposes other than having sex in the shower."

"But..."

"Fine," Liv quipped. "Butt sex in the shower." She took a moment to laugh at her own joke before continuing, "Come on. That's a little funny." Another pause for dramatic effect only earned her a deeper frown from her lead guitarist. She sighed and said, "Anyway... it's cool. You know he loves you in spite of the fact that you are, in fact, human."

"I love her because she's human," Izzy interjected. "All of you, in fact. And, if anyone should be apologizing for being all too human, it's me."

"Says the sexiest man I know," Sofi enthused with a none-too-gentle bump to his shoulder. "Who just happens to possess the world's most perfect penis."

"I won't try to dissuade you of that opinion..."

"Hold it!" Ali barked. "You will not add a 'but' to that sentence, sir! Unless of course you're speaking of where you wish to stick the aforementioned penis."

"Fine," he conceded with a smile. "As to your earlier statement, why don't we just get off the highway and see what we see. We could always just find a hotel."

"I'm not really tired... just sick of being in the car."

"Also apparently tired of not being sodomized," Sofi murmured.

"Hey!" Ali shouted angrily.

"Why don't we hit a music store?" Izzy offered in a desperate bid to stave off an argument.

Sofi peered up at him worriedly. "If we're trying to keep a low profile, I'm not sure that's the best idea."

"Perhaps," he allowed. "But we do have the advantage of it being impossible for anyone to predict that we'll do this. Especially considering we still don't know exactly where we're going. I figure we could just be in and out in an hour or less. Just enough time to noodle around on a few instruments and pick up a couple things. I know well how hard it can be to go from playing for hours every day without fail to suddenly going cold turkey."

Liv turned to rest her chin on the back of her seat so she could regard him with her devastatingly soulful blue eyes. "But isn't that what you did?"

"The route I took was more analogous to that of a lifelong smoker who gradually cuts back until he's kicked the habit. Or mostly kicked the habit. But there's no reason you three should ever put yourselves through that. We don't need to pick up much to make it so you can at least get your practice time in."

"And then we could write while we drive," Sofi said excitedly.

Liv favored him with a brilliant smile before turning back to the road. Within moments, Izzy heard her start to offer directions toward a nearby music store.

***

"I suggest you three hang back for a bit," Izzy suggested as Ali pulled into a parking space in front of a surprisingly massive music store just off The Beltway. "Maybe I can arrange to rent a few outfitted practice rooms so you can get some real practice in while we're here."

"Won't they still recognize us?" Liv asked worriedly.

"Perhaps, but it'll be less likely if you don't come in together. Hopefully I can arrange all the rooms and then you guys can come in separately. There's a much smaller chance of anyone taking notice if you're not together."

Ali shrugged and said, "Let's give it a shot. But only if you agree to grab a room for yourself as well."

"Oh, no. I need to hang back and make sure no one is taking undue notice."

"Izzy," she complained loudly.

"What if I promise to pick up something as well so we can play together tonight?"

Ali's frown quickly morphed into a brilliant grin. "Ok. But you better not try to pull any Izzy bullshit on me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know damn well what I mean, sir. Promising to include yourself in something nice you're doing for us than then conveniently forgetting. If there aren't at least three guitars in our trunk when we leave..."

"Yes?" he asked with great trepidation.

"Then we'll all three gang up on you tonight to overwhelm you with the most epic threesome in history."

"I'm failing to spot my motivation here for not making certain that I, as you say, pull an Izzy."

She turned to regard him with a fierce expression. "Because we'll edge you into unconsciousness. We'll commit every lust-filled, lewd, lascivious and lurid act under the sun; but we'll make absolutely positive that you don't get off. You'll be rocking a case of blue balls that will make men you met in grade school wince in abject terror."

"Christ," he muttered in shock.

Sofi turned to look up at him with hooded eyes. "Alternatively, if you do decide to keep your promise, then you'll still get everything she described. The only difference will be that all three of us will be absolutely dripping in your delicious semen."

Liv sighed lustily. "At least until we, oh so thoroughly and carefully, lick each other clean."

Izzy moaned helplessly and surreptitiously shifted his hips to relieve the pressure at the front of his shorts. "Fine! I swear to all the prophets; past, present and future; that I'll get stuff for all of us."

Ali chuckled and reached out to take his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before saying warmly, "I merely wanted to make sure we understood each other, lover."

Sofi slid her hand over his bulge and murmured, "Would you like me to take care of that before you go inside?"

"You guys are absolutely going to kill me," Izzy grunted as he shoved the door open.

He heard Sofi tease, "Was that a 'no'?" as he closed the door.

Taking a long moment beside the sedan to calm his racing heart, and hope his gallant reflex would calm down, Izzy scanned their surroundings. In truth, the place seemed reasonably ideal except for the hour. Mid-morning would have been preferred, since it happened to be a weekday. The late afternoon hour meant plenty of students would likely be showing up for practice sessions, but this brought with it a different kind of safety. His beautiful companions would blend more easily into a crowd than they would in an empty store.

Squaring his shoulders, Izzy stalked into the store and made his way to the practice area in the rear of the store. He scanned around and was relieved to spot a couple of rooms with drum kits in them, one of which was unoccupied. Making for the adjacent counter, he steeled his resolve for a potentially difficult negotiation (especially if it involved bribing some thirteen-year-old to buy out their time slot).

To Izzy's surprise, the only thing required to rent the rooms he needed was quite a bit of money. The establishment had an a-la-carte menu wherein he was made to pay for, in addition to the rooms: instruments, amps, headphones, chairs, privacy screens for the room's windows, and a cleaning fee. His shock at the rooms' availability diminished markedly as he forked over nearly five-hundred dollars for everything they needed. Sofi's kit alone cost over one hundred dollars for an hour of use; the store's pricing plan being configured so that each component of the drum set was its own line item.

Izzy texted the band one at a time, summoning them inside. He watched the other customers, and especially the staff, carefully for any sign of recognition. Thankfully, everyone seemed to accept without undue notice the three women folded into their hoodies and shuffling back to the practice rooms. He took a long moment to appreciate the auditory cacophony of Sofi's blistering warm-up routine, easily audible even through many layers of soundproofing, before he started browsing.

Confident all was well with his... he paused amongst the racks of primary school band instruments to smile to himself. For so long, he had been in the habit of referring to the collective of Alise, Sofija, and Olīvija as either his charges or simply 'the band'. Part of this was maintaining the mental discipline to avoid calling them something more problematic, such as 'the girls' or (far more honest) 'the women I love with every fiber of my existence, and for whom I would gladly lay down my life'. But after the previous week's events, such concerns had been erased. The part of him which still rebelled against thinking of them in terms such as his girlfriends, or his lovers, was rapidly being extinguished. In its place was blooming the spirit of a man who was finding a small measure of happiness for the first time since he had ultimately abandoned his dream job a decade prior when confronted with the harsh reality that no amount of talent could overcome the simple fact that no one was interested in sharing the stage with an aging, overweight guitarist.

He shook off the melancholy memories, choosing instead to focus on the fact that his journey had led him to somewhere far superior to the dreams of his youth. Proceeding through the store to the section a large banner proclaimed to be the 'Wall-O-Guitars, he sought out the great white whale of music stores: a guitar that was already strung for a lefty. Finding an acceptable option, he slid an item he was never without from his pocket as he made use of one of the nearby stools. He fitted the small glass bottle onto the ring finger of his right hand and, after connecting to a small amp, started playing without a clear plan in mind. His eyes slowly drifted closed as he lost himself in the music and the retail surroundings faded from his awareness.

When Izzy next opened his eyes, he was astounded by two discoveries. The first was that ninety minutes had passed since they had initially arrived at the store. The second was that he was surrounded by several dozen people, including his girlfriends, all of whom were clapping appreciatively (more than of few of them were also happily wiping tears from their eyes).

Twenty-Five

"Oh my God!" Ali gushed quietly as the crowd began to disperse.

He looked up to his girlfriends with an apologetic expression. "Sorry about that. I guess I got a little carried away."

"Are you insane?" Sofi hissed.

"I know," he huffed. "It was reckless."

"It was fucking awesome," she retorted.

Liv turned to him, a disapproving expression on her face. "I can't believe you haven't played for us before now. I feel like you've been depriving us of so much, for so long."

He smiled ruefully. "I just didn't want..."

"We know. You didn't want to unfairly influence us."

Ali moved closer to him and murmured, "We will agree to forgive you, so long as you promise to play for us from now on."

Sofi nudged his other side. "He already agreed, in addition to producing our next album, to also be a feature soloist on the prog epic we're going to use as the closing number."

"More bullied into it," he allowed with a smile.

"I don't know if I can write a prog song," Liv interjected worriedly.

"Don't worry," Sofi replied. "He's also apparently a literal master at composition and he's offered to participate in as many private, intimate, writing sessions with you as it takes to compose our masterpiece."

"Works for me," Liv said as her concerned expression was replaced by something closer to eagerness.

Following Izzy's unintended concert, several shoppers had respectfully asked the band for autographs and not a few pictures were snapped. Izzy suspected the music store was thrilled at his prior lack of restraint as several people had decided to purchase instruments for whom one of the band members was a brand ambassador so that they could get it signed. He had little doubt that the bass Liv signed, which retailed for over five-thousand-dollars, had likely been on display for quite some time before the mid-twenties man with wide eyes (which he was unable to tear from Liv's curves) purchased it.

For their own part, Izzy and the band dropped a significant chunk of change on a pair of acoustic guitars, an acoustic bass, a few drum pads, and a small electric piano. The instruments, along with the large array of bits and bobs required to make them functional, meant Izzy and the band left the store nearly five thousand dollars poorer than when they arrived.

"Are you sure all this stuff is going to fit?" Sofi asked suspiciously.

"Sure is a strong word," Izzy replied with a shrug. "But all of our current stuff takes up less than ten percent of the available room, so I suspect we'll be fine."

"Why did they make the trunks so big in these things? You could fit the car my family had when I was a kid inside it."

"I have no idea. I can only guess that it's a holdover from old gangster movies. I guess American car manufacturers assume that any random lower middle-class drone might, at some point, need to move either several bodies or a reasonably sized apartment."

"Or a band," Liv offered with a smirk. "Shall we?"

Izzy steered the dolly the store had loaned them to carry their purchases toward the door. Liv and Sofi sped up their steps to beat him to the doors so they could hold them open. As the former reached the door, a man in a hoodie approached from the parking lot. He glanced suspiciously at each of the girls before his hand shot out to grab Liv's wrist.

"What are you doing?" she asked, more annoyed than concerned, as she tried to pull away. However, the more she struggled, the tighter the man gripped her arm. "Let me go," she gasped, the panic now evident in her voice.

"You're coming with us," the man growled. "All of you."

"Fuck you!" Sofi shouted as she started to move to aid her band mate.

"Get out of the way!" Izzy shouted.

Just in time to prevent permanent injury, Sofi jumped clear of the path of the fully loaded dolly which Izzy was pushing at full speed toward the shins of the attacker. A guttural scream was ripped from the man's chest, along with a sickening crunch from the man's lower legs, when the labor-saving device slammed into him. He lost his grip on his quarry as he pitched forward onto the pile of musical equipment.

Izzy grunted, "Get back inside! Call the cops!" in the direction of his girlfriends as he leapt onto the attacker's back and used his forearm to slam the man's head down viciously. Hoping the sound of receding footsteps meant that his companions had deemed this an inopportune time to argue, Izzy focused on the man beneath him and snarled, "Who sent you?"

"Fuck you!" the man spat with a heavy accent.

Izzy dug his knee into the man's kidney, earning a sharp hiss of pain from his adversary. He debated doing further damage, but he could already hear the clarion call of the authorities' approach. He eased up the pressure on the man's back to 'intensely uncomfortable', rather than 'likely to cause permanent damage', and scanned his surroundings. The band was standing by the register watching him worriedly as the store's other customers were alternating between pointing their phones in his direction in the universal sign for 'you're being recorded', and streaming out through the emergency exits. Looking to the parking lot revealed no obvious accomplices for his prisoner, but he knew that any such individuals were likely to have bailed the moment it became clear their partner in crime would not succeed in taking the girls hostage.

At his look, Ali started to approach but he waved her back with his free hand. His mind was spinning with possible explanations for the seemingly constant expansion of the threats aligned against them, and he intended to do whatever it took to keep them as far from harm as possible until someone could come up with an explanation for why they were suddenly under constant threat.

"Sir," a calm, but authoritative voice called out behind him. "I'm going to need you to get off the perp very slowly."

Izzy looked back to see a notably large cop standing with his hand on his still-holstered sidearm; his eyes locked on Izzy's captive. Izzy nodded and stiffly got back to his feet. As soon as he moved, the would-be captor jolted forward as if to escape. Izzy and the cop dove for him simultaneously, with the former snaring an ankle and the latter gaining a firm grip of the hood of the man's sweatshirt.

"Not so fast," the cop drawled as he snapped handcuffs on the man's wrists. "I've got a few questions for you."

***

"You're telling me this is the second time this has happened in the last week?" the gruff appearing federal agent huffed in disbelief.

"Yes!" Ali replied animatedly.

"And why didn't you make a report the last time?"

Izzy interjected, "The cops in the small Tennessee town where the last near-abduction took place apparently believe in a higher burden of proof for the victim."

"To be fair," Liv offered. "There were a bunch more witnesses this time." She turned to the agent. "The last time, no one but the four of us saw anything until Murdock had already taken off."

"Strictly speaking, we can't do much more if there isn't any evidence."

"Shit," Izzy grumped.

"However," the agent added with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. "He does have a few unpaid moving violations in Texas. It's a stretch, but we can use that to issue a warrant. If it turns out that he's involved in today's attack in any way, that's a federal conspiracy charge since we've got crimes in both Tennessee and Virginia. If you see him, call me right away. I'll get local PD on scene ASAP. And, regardless of where you may happen to be, I can assure you cooperation from the boys in blue."

"But what are we supposed to do?" Sofi complained.

"We can offer you federal protection."

"All four of us?"

The agent looked at Izzy with an apologetic wince and said, "We have no reason to believe that Mr. Catalunya is a target at this time."

"Then forget it!" Sofi snapped. "We go where he goes."

"It's your choice. But, please, program my number into all of your phones. If you see anything, day or night, you call me."

"Shit," Liv whispered disconsolately. Everyone turned in her direction questioningly, prompting her to add, "Press."

She nodded toward the parking lot where a local news van was just beginning to disgorge the obligatory former cheerleader turned reporter paired with a cameraman (who strongly resembled Izzy).

"Damnit," Izzy grunted. "We've got to get out of here."

"You can try," the agent allowed. "But I wouldn't count on them not figuring out what happened here. And to who."

Izzy shook his head firmly. "There's no upside in giving any interviews." He turned to the agent and said, "Are we done here?" Upon receiving a nod in reply, he looked to the band and said, "Let's go."

A member of the store staff had loaded their gear up while Izzy and the band were dealing with the authorities. The store had even insisted on replacing the three pieces of equipment ruined when Izzy slammed the perp, who was still refusing to say a word to anyone, into the fully loaded dolly. Glaring in the direction of the parking lot where an additional news van was just arriving, Izzy had little doubt as to the motivations of the store manager. He also would have been completely unsurprised to discover that the same manager had been the one to notify the media.

Izzy led the band into the parking lot, politely ignoring the shouted questions from the press as he handed them into the car. One of the camera men moved to stand in front of the car, as though to block their escape, but Izzy glared at him icily and seethed, "Don't."

"What are you gonna do?" the burly cameraman sneered as he brought his camera to his shoulder and caused the ominous red light to flare to life.

Izzy stared down the barrel of the camera and said, "These people are in imminent danger, and you're standing between them and safety."

"So?"

"I have notified you of the facts as we see them. We are leaving. If you choose to remain where you are, we cannot be held responsible for your inevitable injuries."

Izzy dropped into the driver's seat and started the car.

"Izzy," Liv warned. "What if he doesn't move?"

Without looking away from the cameraman, Izzy said, "Then he'll get the chance to do an unplanned exposé on the efficacy of this area's emergency department." He then dropped the car into gear and released the brake.

Just before the car connected with the cameraman's shins, he jumped aside and shouted, "Asshole!"

"Sometimes," Izzy agreed as he unleashed the power of the car's V8 engine and sped off into the late afternoon gloom.

Twenty-Six

The music store shopping trip, in addition to the lengthy discussions with the authorities, meant that the traffic had completely dissipated by the time they once again got under way. As they crossed into Maryland and started to see the suburbs gradually thin out, Izzy finally felt himself begin to calm somewhat. The girls had been quiet since leaving the music store, but he was heartened to realize that they were pensive rather than petrified.

He glanced around the darkened interior of the car and said, "Thoughts?"

Sofi, who had taken the seat beside him, said, "This might sound insane, but I really hope that guy is working with Murdock."

"I know, right?" Ali agreed loudly. "I mean, it's not like we know why Murdock is after us either. But I just can't wrap my mind around every criminal within five hundred kilometers suddenly deciding to abduct us."

"Agreed," Izzy said regretfully. "Which just leaves the far more critical question of: how did they find us? I know some of the people there might have posted something on social media, but that's an insane turnaround if that's what it was. I was watching carefully and I'm confident no one recognized you when you entered the rehearsal rooms. That means this conspiracy, for want of a better term, went from having only the vaguest idea of where we were, to the bad guy pulling into the parking lot, in... what, a half hour? Maybe an hour? That's crazy. Even if we were to assume that Murdock is in league with a massive evil empire with sufficient financial resources to have henchmen on call all along the eastern seaboard, that would be hard to facilitate."

"What else could it be?" Liv murmured with wide eyes.

"What if they knew earlier?" Ali whispered hoarsely.

"But... how?"

Ali held out her phone and said, "The group text."

"The one with your friend from back home?" Izzy asked with growing dread.

Sofi turned in his direction. "Yes, although a few others have been added over the years. Like Faye. And Chloe."

"And Hannah," Liv said, referring to the woman who had been their personal trainer since they began touring in the U. S., but with whom the band had not worked since the beginning of their recently aborted tour.

Ali snickered and said, "We even had Oscar on there for a while, but he bailed about two years ago in the midst of an extended debate about cycle synching."

"Speaking of which," Sofi interjected playfully. "Good news, bad news, for our newly minted boyfriend. We decided to sync everything up, no big deal since we're all on the pill, but things can get a little contentious when shark week comes around."

He chuckled and smiled down at her. "I find it hilarious that you're mentioning this as though I wouldn't have figured this out years ago. But we're getting off topic. Anyone else on the distribution list?" He glanced around and received three shakes of exceedingly beautiful heads in return. He looked in the mirror at Ali and added, "Ok, so I'm assuming based on the fact that you brought this up, some mention of our destination was made in the aforementioned group text?"

She frowned apologetically. "I was kinda gushing about how awesome you were for helping us get our fix."

"No reason you should have known to do otherwise, honey," he answered in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. "But I think we should obviously refrain from telling them our comings and goings moving forward."

"No!" Liv said excitedly. "We should use a canary trap."

"How revolting," Sofi groaned.

"No, it's something I read in a spy-themed romance thriller once. If you think you've got a leak, you give each person a different story. Then you can find out who the mole is based on which story makes its way into the hands of the bad guys."

"That's pretty brilliant," Izzy agreed.

"But how do we figure out which story makes its way to Murdock? It's not like this is a dumb spy movie where the villain will helpfully explain everything to us in the third act."

"I may have an idea there," Izzy allowed. "But, before I get into it, I need assurances from each of you that we won't have a repeat of the conversation about the recording studio time."

Sofi crossed her arms angrily. "Meaning you did something else out of your own pocket, assuming we'd be too dumb to ever figure it out."

"This was before we... redefined the nature of our association. If I swear to submit an expense report like a good little boy, could we agree to move onto the heart of the matter?"

Sofi's features brightened. "Of course. All we ever want is for you to be treated like the incredible person you are. By everyone, including you. However, I do wish you wouldn't call yourself a little boy." She snuggled closer and dragged her nails up his inner thigh seductively before adding, "Please?"

"Agreed," he stammered as her nails reached their destination and cupped him appreciatively.

"So, what is it you did that you'll now be reimbursing yourself for?" Liv prompted.

"Oh," he grunted. "I hired a digital security firm before Gus ever thought to hire Murdock. That's one of the reasons I was so angry with myself after the crash. Because the guys I hired are top notch, and they hadn't heard word one of this threat Murdock was on about. I thought I was erring on the side of caution. As it turned out, I was leading you three into the dragon's lair."

"You can't blame yourself, Izzy," Ali said firmly. "After the thing in Mexico with the stalker, you'd have been crazy to insist Murdock was peddling a fantasy."

"Perhaps," he allowed. "In any case, I've pinged the guys I hired a few times since we came out of the woods. The last time was right after the incident at the hospital, where they told me to go to the cops, and make a formal report. I think, however, that we could coordinate with them on this pigeon trap..."

"Canary trap," Liv corrected.

"That," Izzy continued. "We could possibly even use the messages themselves as sort of digital breadcrumbs."

"Brilliant," Sofi enthused. "And then, let's figure out a strategy for lunch."

"But it's nearly dark out..." Ali retorted good naturedly.

"Exactly! And we burned a lot of calories today."

"You burned a lot of calories," Liv retorted heatedly. "Be honest, how many bucket list items did you check off today?"

Sofi turned to regard her lover warmly. "Not as many as you will once we stop for the night."

***

"Swing and a miss," Izzy announced with feigned enthusiasm as he dropped into the passenger seat much later that night after having been told by the fourth consecutive hotel that it was against their policy to rent a room without a credit card.

Liv sighed wearily. "We could always just give in and use one. What's the worst thing that could happen?"

"Um... lemme see," Sofi began. "Masked men kick in the door in the middle of the night, just as you're on the precipice of consummating our relationship with Izzy, to abduct the three of us and kill him. That bleak enough for you?"

"Jesus," Liv whispered somberly. "Way to kill the mood."

"Just being honest," Sofi offered apologetically.

"She's right," Izzy intoned gravely. "I'd vote for us staying in the car before we send up a digital signal flare announcing our presence."

"There is another option," Ali interjected. "We could hit the S-Mart a few klicks up the road and get the proper equipment. There are several campgrounds along the Chesapeake we could make use of."

"You're suggesting we go camping again?" Sofi yelped. "After we conclusively proved just a few days ago that we're rubbish at it?"

"I'm not proposing that we make a habit of it. It's just an option for us to get some sleep. I also suspect that we'd have fared far better with the right equipment. How hard can it be to set up a tent and zip a few sleeping bags together so we can all snuggle up for warmth?"

"What about Izzy's machine?" Liv asked worriedly. "He can't sleep without it."

"It's fine, honey," Izzy deflected.

"No! If Izzy can't sleep, then neither should any of us."

"I found one that has power at each campsite," Ali spoke up excitedly, holding her phone up triumphantly. "S-Mart also sells a gizmo which says it'll power Izzy's machine for eight hours and can be recharged from the cigarette lighter. Apparently, those machines are super common now."

"Very well," Liv assented regally. "We can go camping."

The execution of Ali's plan meant yet another difficult decision for Izzy, as it meant again having to choose between staying with the girls (which dramatically increased the likelihood they'd be recognized and have their location broadcast) or splitting up. In the end, the inexorable march of time forced their hand due to the impending closing times for both the store selling the items they needed and the campground itself. Izzy and Sofi were charged with buying the necessary equipment while Ali and Liv handled food and beverages. Everything was purchased within a single building, but they did not enter together and were never within twenty meters of each other while in the store. They set about their appointed tasks with all possible haste and managed to rendezvous back at the car a mere twenty minutes after their arrival.

The additional equipment strained the capacity of the sedan's admittedly enormous boot, meaning that much of the camping gear ended up between Ali and Liv in the backseat. Fortunately, they made it to the campground without delay and they were unloading their equipment within the hour.

The setup of the campground was relatively straight forward, despite being accomplished long after the sun had set. The sedan's headlights provided all the illumination they needed and, as Izzy remarked more than once, tents had come a long way since he was a boy. Once the tent was erected, Sofi announced that she would handle 'getting things squared away' and was soon enveloped in the cacophony of the battery-powered air pump for their inflatable mattress. Liv handled getting a campfire started, a task made far simpler by a few modern conveniences (notably a couple of logs which could be lit by a cigarette lighter and would burn for an hour). Ali and Izzy were told to find firewood, but this task was made easy by the fact that the campground was essentially deserted since it was mid-week and several neighboring campsites had carefully collected stockpiles of perfectly serviceable wood which had been abandoned.

Less than thirty minutes after their arrival, the group settled in around the fire to enjoy the steady pop and crackle of the burning logs beneath clear skies. Liv put a kettle on one side of the fire to warm up water for tea while Sofi groused at Ali over the choices the latter made for their nourishment.

"Going camping without roasting marshmallows is un-American," the drummer loudly complained.

Ali quirked an eyebrow at her. "But we're not American."

"True. But we're camping in America. There are rules to these things. Let me guess, you went with themes from the old country and we're going to be whipping up beetroot soup with some rye bread dark enough that it sucks in all nearby light like a black hole?"

"I fucking hate beets," Ali seethed. "They taste like the bottom of a purse."

"Same, honestly," Sofi agreed. "But that doesn't answer the question of what we're going to eat."

"They don't have a fun name like s'mores," Liv interjected from where she was keeping close watch on the kettle. "Honestly, the idea just came to me because I kind of hate marshmallows and I knew somebody would flip out if we didn't have something unhealthy to snack on. So, we got canned cinnamon rolls. You just wrap them around a stick and roast them over the fire like marshmallows. When they're done, you drizzle some icing over it and Bob's your uncle."

"That... sounds intriguing," Izzy announced as he got to his feet to locate four appropriately shaped sticks. "Methinks camping might start to become a thing for you guys."

"It'll become a thing for us," Ali corrected definitively.

Twenty-Seven

"What is it about fire that makes staring at one more addictive than heroin," Izzy mused softly as the group sat around the slowly dying fire. "I feel like I could just sit here and gaze at it until the sun grew cold without ever getting bored."

"I know what you mean," Sofi agreed dazedly. "It's mezz-mur-eye-zing."

"I think you drugged me with sugar," Ali said drunkenly. "How many cinnamon buns did I eat?"

"A whole tube," Izzy chortled. "I'm frankly stunned. I can't imagine where you put it."

"I know," Ali groaned. "Hannah's going to fucking kill me when all of this mess is finally behind us. It'll be burpees for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for a bloody month."

"At least she's not trying to literally sweat your tits off," Liv complained. "I swear, that woman won't rest until I drop the 'double' off my cup size."

"She's just jealous that she had to drop five figures to get tits that look half as good as yours."

Sofi shook her head sadly. "She should have saved her money. I've seen her 'before' pics, and she was gorgeous. And I don't just say that because her tits looked then like mine do now."

"Indeed," Ali agreed. "I don't begrudge her changing her body, I just wish it didn't feel quite so much like she resented Liv."

Their conversation lapsed into comfortable silence as they once again became lost in the dancing light across the dying coals. The evening was cool, but they were prepared with coats and blankets. It was not lost on them that all of their possessions not currently secured in the sedan would smell like smoke, but they had already scouted the shower house which seemed to be in working order (and which was also of the 'gang shower' design, something they intended to enjoy to the fullest the following morning).

At length, Liv leaned over to look up at Izzy adoringly. He wrapped an arm around her to pull her close, earning a soul-melting smile for his troubles. She murmured, "Would you do me a favor?"

"Almost certainly."

"Would you play for us?"

"No. But I will play with you."

The brief frown he spotted after uttering the first syllable was more than balanced by the childlike joy he saw in her expression after he finished speaking. He climbed from his seat to open the boot of the sedan, extracting two handfuls of instruments. After handing a guitar and bass to Ali and Liv respectively, he offered Sofi a few drum pads and her new stick bag.

As he took his seat, guitar in hand, he said, "What shall we play?"

He had been expecting to receive three shouted replies as each member of the band lobbied for their favorite. What he instead got was three pensive, and notably silent, faces staring back at him.

"What?" he asked worriedly. "Is this ok?"

Liv nodded solemnly and he spotted a tear on her cheek in the flickering light of the campfire. "Yes. A million times, yes!"

"Then why the long faces."

"It's all really happening," Sofi gushed.

Ali wiped her eyes. "We spent so long wishing this would happen. I mean, not the deadly plane crash, obviously. And I could do without the maniac trying to abduct us. But the rest is all a dream come true."

He looked at each of them intently before huskily whispering, "You must believe I feel the same way. Except this wasn't even a dream for me. It was an impossibility. Winning the lotto looked like a safe bet next to what you three have given me."

"Oh, babe," Sofi enthused before rushing over to hug him.

Her bandmates quickly joined her, and it was only through quick action that Izzy's guitar survived the encounter. Their shared embrace charmed his soul and severed the last vestiges of imposter's syndrome from Izzy's consciousness. At length, the tightness of his girlfriends' embrace eased, and they pulled back to look at him with misty eyes.

He smiled down at them and repeated, "You still haven't said what you want to play."

The silence stretched until Izzy realized they expected him to pick. While he had no doubt that they would gladly play along to any of their songs, he suspected they would much prefer to stretch their legs a bit. Thinking hard, the answer came to him in the guise of a song the band had discussed covering on several occasions, and to which he had heard each of them listening from time to time. He retook his seat and began picking the opening riff from a song about the nature of rock radio written by yet another power trio which had come to America to find their eventual success, albeit from north of the border.

"Yes!" Liv shrieked as she took her own seat and started to play along flawlessly.

Ali strummed along, fashioning a rhythm line as she went, while Sofi used every surface in reach to approximate the Professor's notoriously expansive kit. Ali came in strong with the vocal as the first verse began, her powerful voice filling all the thankfully empty surrounding campsites. When they reached the solo section, the band's playing faded as they watched in undisguised awe at Izzy's effortless musicianship.

As soon as the song ended, Liv led them into a mainstay of the Seattle grunge scene. This set the pattern for a concert with no audience which lasted over an hour and was the most fun Izzy had had with his clothes on for more than a decade.

For the last song, he led them into a track from a southern rock band which was widely credited with birthing the jam band genre. Ali looked at him helplessly as they neared the end of the first verse, so he gave her a reassuring nod and took the vocal lead. This led to each of the band members gaping at him in amazement, although they were far too professional to stop playing. He kept the solo short, because he knew everyone was getting weary, and led them into the coda.

As echoes of the final chords faded from their empty surroundings, Izzy looked around to find his companions still staring at him with intense scrutiny.

Confident nothing was seriously amiss, he grinned at them and asked, "What?"

"You never told us you could sing!" Sofi shouted excitedly.

He shrugged. "I never told you I couldn't. Besides, I'm merely..."

"Fucking awesome?" Ali enthused. "This is great. We're totally adding backing vocals to producing, feature soloist and co-writer credits on the next album."

"Settle down, now," Izzy complained. "I'm crazy about all of you, and I appreciate your faith in me, but this is still your band. I have no interest in becoming the fourth member of Siren. Besides, you don't need me."

"But what if we want you?" Liv asked softly.

He favored her with a warm smile. "How about we wait until we're in the studio and see how things go?" She frowned slightly, so he quickly added, "But we can jam as often as you like. That was incredible."

"Agreed," Sofi said with a sigh. She stood and stretched languidly to ease her weary muscles. "And now... I think I need to go for a walk to cool down a bit."

Izzy stood and set his guitar aside. "I'll go with you."

"No, you won't."

"I don't feel comfortable letting you walk around in the dark by yourself, honey."

"Then Ali can come with me. Right Ali?"

"I don't know," Ali replied with a yawn. "I'm pretty bushed."

"No, you're not. You really need to let your muscles cool down."

"It's ok," Liv interjected softly as she got to her feet. "I could use a walk as well after all we've been through today."

Sofi glared heatedly at Ali and hissed, "You need to come with me, Alise."

"Why? Liv and Izzy both want to go. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is that Liv hasn't had the chance to be with Izzy yet, you obstinate jerk! So much for me trying to deftly give them some alone time. Jeez!"

"You know?" Ali enthused as she leapt to her feet. "You're right! I could use a walk. Thanks for convincing me, babe. You kids stay behind and relax. I'll keep an eye on Sofi."

"Remind me to sign you up for that context clues class I saw online," Sofi muttered as Ali joined her and they walked into the darkness.

Izzy turned to Liv, who was matching his awkward stance on the opposite side of the fire, and shrugged helplessly.

She grinned crookedly at him. "Well, that was subtle."

Izzy stammered, "I'm going to... stow our gear."

Liv moved to help him and within no time all of the instruments were safely loaded into the sedan's boot. They also policed up their garbage and generally made their campsite neat and tidy. Tasks done; the couple once again found themselves standing motionless less than a meter apart.

Izzy called upon the entirety of his admittedly limited charm and reached out to take Liv's hand. She smiled tentatively at him, which he found unexpectedly comforting. Returning her smile, he said, "I hope you won't let Sofi pressure you into anything you don't wish to do, Olīvija. Or anyone else for that matter. Including, and especially, me. You hold all the cards here." She nodded gratefully at him and opened her mouth to speak, so he hastened to add, "But know this: there's no one on this planet who I'd rather be with in this moment than you. I love you, honey. You and your two manipulative lovers who are, as likely as not, hiding just out of the light to see what we do. Regardless, my cheerful and willing answer to whatever you're about to say is an enthusiastic and unreserved yes."

She smiled teasingly at him and said, "What if it was something embarrassing or uncomfortable?"

He pulled her close and placed a hand on each of her gently curved hips. "I'm not sure you're capable of such trickery. But it matters not. You know I'd do anything to make you happy."

"Oh, babe," she sighed as she fisted her hands in his shirt to tug him closer.

Their lips met eagerly, and Izzy was nearly overwhelmed by a sense of undeniable rightness. Clinging to him with an almost desperate strength, she drove her tongue between his lips to taste him. One of her legs rose from the ground as though in a subconscious effort to do anything it took to get closer to him. Her contented sigh filled his lungs as he cupped her ass to lift her free from the ground.

"Yes," she hissed in response to the way her clit ground against the proof of his arousal, despite the too-many layers of clothing separating them.

"Tent?" he whispered as he peppered kisses along her collarbone.

"I don't care," she grunted as she ground herself libidinously against him.

"Tent," he repeated confidently.

He carried her across the campsite, making certain he did not drop her in the midst of her wanton writhing. Upon reaching the edge of their shelter for the evening, he realized he faced an impasse: he could not open the tent flap, the portal beyond which his wildest fantasies were likely to become reality, without separating himself, at least momentarily, from the remarkable woman whose moans filled the surrounding campsites as she ground her core against his throbbing manhood. Izzy tried to bend over and blindly fumble for the zipper, but he only succeeded in nearly dropping his soon-to-be lover.

She chuckled and murmured, "Something the matter?"

"Stupid tent," he griped as he continued to flail helplessly.

"Put me down."

He carefully placed her on her feet. But before he could reach for the troublesome opening to the tent, she reached for a different zipper. He sighed in bliss as she cupped his pulsing cock through his shorts with one hand while she deftly opened his fly with the other.

"That wasn't why I..." he said hoarsely, but his words failed him as she extracted his manhood and wrapped her full lips around his tip.

Even in the dim light of the campfire, he could see the twinkle in her startling blue eyes as she slowly sucked him deeper into her mouth. Like a superhero on the way to save the day, she yanked desperately at her clothes until her shirt and bra lay (likely ruined) between her knees and she had freed her legendary breasts.

"Honey," he gasped. "You don't have to..."

She reached up to grip his shaft before pulling back until the head of his cock was just barely touching her bottom lip. She stroked him slowly as she gazed up at him adoringly.

"I've spent the last five years dreaming about this moment."

With each syllable, the warmth of her breath mingled with the remnants of her saliva dripping from his cock to nearly overwhelm his dwindling control. Even more miraculous, her proximity meant that each word she spoke tantalizingly whet her lips with the liquid pleasure pooling at his tip. She slid her hand deliberately up his shaft, causing a large dollop of precum to well up.

She slurped him clean before sighing libidinously and whispering, "So good."

"Liv," he sighed desperately.

Ignoring him, she continued to milk him as she mewled appreciatively with each additional treat she drew forth.

"Please, honey," he begged. "I need you."

She rose up on her knees to capture his cock between her tits. Her previous efforts provided all the slickness required for her to stroke him with her magnificent breasts. She gazed up at him adoringly and murmured, "I'm yours, my love."

"Then get in the tent."

She smiled at him coquettishly. "Yes sir."

Ignoring the garments encircling his ankles, he dove into the tent after her and captured her foot. She yelped playfully and rolled onto her back to watch him reverently remove what remained of her clothing. The way she bit her lip as she watched him unbutton her jeans and roll them down her thighs brought Izzy right back to the precipice.

Unwilling to take the time to remove her thong, he pressed her thighs wide and ran his tongue lightly along the piece of satin already soaked with her arousal. He moaned into her at the intoxicating scent of her desire and tugged the fabric to the side so he could truly taste her for the first time.

"Oh, God," she panted as he sank his tongue into her soaked core.

A distant part of his consciousness reported that, based on the way she felt against his face, it was quite likely that she had shaped her pubic hair as she had previously threatened. He reached a hand up to stroke her short curls as his tongue teased her glistening folds.

"Do you like it?" she whispered hoarsely.

"I love it. I love you. You're fucking perfect."

"Izzy!" she yelped as he sucked her clit between his lips and teased it with the tip of his tongue.

Her responsiveness to him was absolute and she was quickly writhing beneath him. Her hands threaded in his hair, urging him onwards.

Just as he intuited that she was on the brink, she gasped, "Wait."

He looked up at her anxiously as all manner of possible calamities flitted through his head. He whispered, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she panted. "I just... need you... inside me... the first time... you make me cum."

He climbed up her body, kissing along her pale skin which seemed to shine in the dim light of the fire behind him. As he reached his destination, he kissed her chastely in deference to the fact that his face was literally dripping with her arousal. She chuckled at his reluctance and pulled him into a passionate kiss.

As their lips parted, she quipped, "Somebody forgot that I also like eating pussy." She kissed him again before murmuring, "But, don't worry. Your magnificent cock is definitely my favorite."

He kissed her again before murmuring, "I'm not trying to win a competition, honey."

She pulled him close, wrapping her arms and legs around him languidly. "I know."

His manhood found her entrance as if by fate and he could feel her core pulling him toward nirvana. He gazed down at her lovingly and whispered, "Are you ready, honey?"

"So ready," she gushed. "Make me yours, Izzy."

Her legs tightened around him, urging him onward, and he sank into her silken embrace.

"So full," she whispered reverently. "So perfect."

"Gods, honey! You feel incredible."

His thrusting increased in time with her soft moans. The dim light of the fire was sufficient to gift him with the awe-inspiring sight of her spectacular breasts swaying in time with their coupling. She noticed his gaze and lifted her arms above her head to allow her bountiful assets to jiggle unrestrained.

"How long have you fantasized about this?"

"Too long."

"No," she corrected gently. "Because I have wanted you for just as long. I was always going to be yours, Izzy. We just had to wait for the fulness of time."

"I love you so fucking much."

"I love you too. And I want you to cum for me."

He shook his head and grunted, "You first."

He ducked his head to suck one of her prominent nipples, causing a throaty moan to escape from her lips. He suckled eagerly, savoring her absolute perfection. Every fantasy he had ever had about Liv's legendary breasts fell so far short of reality as to leave grave doubts about whether or not he was in fact already in the mythical afterlife. They were, put simply, the most exquisite thing he could imagine; not only touching, but existing in the first place.

The pace of her panting increased, and she sighed, "Oh, babe. I'm so close."

"I'm with you, Olīvija."

"Izzy?" she gasped as he felt the grip of her inner walls tighten impossibly around him and he happily joined her in bliss.

Their lips crashed together as he emptied himself into her welcoming core. Each spasm of her thighs prompted another thrust of his hips, another eruption of his essence into her eager womb. Throughout their extended release, she gripped him with a strength born of years of hope and want.

When they were spent, Izzy rolled to the side lest he allow his full weight to harm her. She rolled with him and laid her sweat slicked face on his still-clothed chest.

He whispered, "Are you ok?"

"I'm perfect. You don't mind if I sleep here, do you?"

He chuckled softly. "Of course not."

"I just want to keep you inside me for as long as possible. I swore to Ali and Sofi that there'd be no jealousy, but they can't take you from me if we're still joined. Right?"

"I'm not sure that's physiologically possible, honey. But you're certainly welcome to try."

She sighed contentedly and seemed to drift off to sleep.

Izzy was well on his way to joining her when Ali and Sofi climbed into the tent. They shifted the covers around so they'd all stay warm and helped him don the mask for his infernal sleeping apparatus. Tasks complete, they happily nestled against either side of him.

"Well done, babe," Ali whispered after kissing his cheek.

Sofi matched her gesture before murmuring, "By the way, everything Liv just said is bullshit. We aim to share you even if I have to tackle her off you."

"Good to know," he replied with a chuckle.

She kissed him again before saying, "You did good, Izzy."

He sighed contentedly. "I assure you, it was my pleasure."

Twenty-Eight

"Ok, I can't keep quiet any longer!" Ali declared from her spot in the passenger's seat the next morning, a few hours after they had broken camp and gotten under way.

"Oh no," Izzy muttered. "Here it comes."

"Why do you finger pick when you're playing slide but use an actual pick the rest of the time?"

"What?" he gasped.

"I want to know. Is it just being a sheep and mimicking the greats, or is there an actual reason?"

"What'd you think she was going to ask?" Sofi piped up from the back seat.

"I can't even imagine. But not that."

"But why?" Sofi pressed. "This isn't more weird sex stuff, is it?"

"Huh?"

"You know... you getting jittery because you gave Liv the literal fuck of her life last night while Ali and I pretended to go for a walk?"

"Pretended?" Liv murmured sleepily.

"Oh, we totally watched every second, babe. That thing you did with treating his magnificent dick like a thing of lip balm was so fucking hot. But I was speaking about how our noble boyfriend might be once again doubting our ability to not get jealous of each other."

"There's an obvious solution to his quandary," Ali offered. "He just has to sleep with all three of us now that he's had us each individually."

"Hold up!" Sofi retorted firmly. "He has not had me."

"You guys sixty-nine'd in the backseat literally yesterday," Ali fired back good naturedly. "You were blowing cum bubbles all afternoon."

Sofi's bark of laughter left Izzy's ears ringing. "I was not!" She was silent for a long moment before adding, "Unless it was in my sleep since I was basically in a coma, thanks to Izzy's delightful tongue. But that does not change the fact that I've yet to experience the exquisite sensation of Izzy's remarkable cock filling me up."

"So full," Liv whispered.

Sofi reached over to rest her head on Liv's shoulder and murmured, "I'm so happy for you, babe." She then looked to Izzy via the rearview mirror. "See? Not jealous. Just crazy happy that two people I love made each other happy. Sure, I can admit that I'm really anxious to make love to you. But that's not the same as being resentful of either of them."

Ali sighed wistfully. "I maintain that my proposal would solve all of this debate. We can just present ourselves like a stack of sexy-as-fuck pancakes and Izzy can fuck us all interchangeably. I'll even volunteer to be on the bottom."

"Top!" Sofi declared.

"Obviously," Liv retorted with a snicker.

"You guys don't have to do anything so performative for me," Izzy interjected. "I don't want any of you getting a virus on your phone because you're researching insane sex acts in the hope of impressing me. All I need is you. All of you. The rest is all just details. We could hit the sack every night dressed head to toe like Ward and June and I'd still be a million times better off than I was a month ago."

"Who are Ward and June?"

"It's not important," Izzy replied quickly at the realization that the show he had referenced had been old enough to qualify for a pension by the time his companions had been born. "The point is that I don't love you because of either your eagerness or your creativity in the bedroom, or because of your incredible beauty."

Ali held up her phone and yelped, "These goddamn maniacs slept in different beds! What the fuck?"

Izzy shrugged. "Americans were a weird lot in the fifties. Still are, now that I think about it. Some dumb censor apparently decided that the implication that married people might, possibly, entertain the idea of, maybe, having sexual intercourse was far too shocking for suburban audiences."

"Didn't they have children?"

"They did indeed," Izzy replied somberly. "As I said, indefensibly foolish thinking is hardly a new thing with our species."

"We know you're not with us just for our bodies," Liv reassured him. "But I hope this doesn't mean you expect us to keep our clothes on when we're en famille."

"Or that you won't bend us over the back of the couch and fuck our brains out if the mood strikes you," Sofi added playfully.

Izzy bowed his head briefly at the now familiar feeling of having achieved nirvana. "I feel like we've gone far afield of the original topic. The reason I don't use a pick when I..."

He was interrupted by the insistent warbling of his new cell phone through the car's speakers. He glanced around questioningly and received encouraging looks from his companions. Retrieving the device from his pocket, he saw that the caller was the internet security firm he had hired after the stalking incident in Mexico.

He thumbed the answer switch and, after receiving the expected beep of the call connecting, said, "This is Izzy."

"Mr. Catalunya? This is Doris with..."

"I remember," Izzy interjected.

"Indeed," she replied primly. "I'll get right to the point. Looks like your canary trap idea produced results. We got a hit about thirty minutes ago on one of the links you sent out. We've got a fix on the recipient's location."

"Wait," Ali cut in. "How do you know it's him?"

They heard a weary sigh over the call. "Several data points suggest that it was Mr. Murdock who ultimately received, and opened, the link we created. The first is that it was most recently accessed in the Washington D. C. area, while the original recipient of this specific link currently resides in Latvia."

"What!" Ali shrieked at once with Sofi muttering, "How could she?"

Doris said, "Our data indicates the original recipient was one Emīlija Kira; twenty-nine years old and resident of Jūrmala."

"That's not possible," Liv whispered. "Emi wouldn't do that to us."

Izzy was gutted to witness their heartbreak but pressed on. "What else can you tell us?"

"The link has been accessed on a total of five devices spread across three geographic areas. The first, as I said, was in Jūrmala. The second was in Manhattan. The rest were all in the D. C. metro area."

"Can you tell the identity of the people who accessed the link?"

"In some cases. It depends in large part on what type of device they use. We presume the original person who accessed it was Ms. Kira. We have identified the second as Mr. Gustavs Zarina, thanks to the pop up he helpfully clicked which installed a convenient bit of software on his phone that allows us to track his location and usage."

"I'm going to fucking kill him," Ali hissed darkly.

"We have yet to get any strong intel on the remaining devices," Doris continued.

"What else?" Izzy prompted.

"That's all the information we have at present. We recommend, however, that we continue to utilize this conduit through Ms. Kira in the hopes of developing more intel on Mr. Murdock's intentions."

"Fuck that," Ali snapped. "That bitch is dead to us. We're blocking her ass!"

Sofi slammed her hand down on the seat in frustration. "I'm putting the word to the street in Jūrmala that she's a backstabbing, conniving, deceitful..."

"Hang on," Izzy cut in. "She obviously forwarded the message to Gus, who then forwarded it to other people... likely including Murdock. Had you told her that Gus was, if not explicitly involved in this mess, at the very least generally malignant?"

"I mean," Ali began. "We mentioned that we'd fired him as our promoter."

"Wait a minute," Liv said softly. "Have you guys seen what she's been sending us? It's mixed in with a lot of back and forth amongst all of us. Not surprising since there are so many people on this thread. But she's said several times that she's really worried about us. The last few begged us to go to the feds and ask for protection. Is it possible she's just not feeling heard and reached out to Gus in desperation?"

"But why?" Sofi grumbled. "She knows he's a miserable bastard."

"Like I said, she's stuck seven thousand kilometers away with an ocean between us and all she hears is news about plane crashes and attempted abductions."

"To be fair, there was also the part about finally closing the deal with Izzy."

"Right, but maybe that's part of the problem. At least for her. She keeps asking about our safety, but all we want to talk about is getting laid. She probably thinks we've taken leave of our senses, perhaps even that we're still in shock. I'm not excusing her behavior... just suggesting that there is perhaps an explanation other than her being our enemy now."

"Regardless," Doris, who was to Izzy's surprise still on the phone, interposed, "you need to continue to make use of this conduit."

"I'm not so sure," Ali offered. "It sounds like I could just as easily message Gus directly and beg him to keep it secret, likely effectively guaranteeing that that sack of shit would immediately forward whatever I send to Murdock."

"And we also reach out to Emi," Liv added. "And try to reassure her that we're ok while begging her to keep information about us secret."

"If you must," Doris allowed. "But you should continue to message her similar to what was done previously."

"You mean to figure out if she continues to pass along what we explicitly ask her to keep secret?" Liv grumbled.

"It's up to you," Doris replied. "Sending information to Mr. Zarina should suffice for our counter-intel efforts, assuming he continues to funnel said info to Mr. Murdock. Continuing the canary trap efforts with Ms. Kira would just be for your peace of mind. I suggest, however, that you don't pass up this opportunity to verify your assertions about Ms. Kira's motivations. It isn't often that you can test a friend's loyalty without raising their suspicion. And this likely won't be the last time you find it necessary to know for certain whether or not you can trust this person."

"Very well," Ali allowed disconsolately.

"Remember to be cautious in the language you use for contacting Mr. Zarina," Doris warned. "You want to gently discourage him from passing along information about you while still maintaining a demeanor in keeping with your recent interactions."

Izzy asked, "Where will we be telling them we're headed?"

"The last link said you were going to lay low in D. C. after the incident at the music store and included a link to a hotel in the area. I suggest we continue the ruse; perhaps with an addendum mentioning a new location. But you must do everything you can to make this as believable as possible."

"Find a concert in the area, preferably a rock band of some renown," Izzy offered.

"Oh, yeah," Sofi gushed. "Anyone who's known Izzy for more than five minutes would totally buy that."

"Send us the text of the messages you wish to be sent to each, and we'll send them within the hour."

Sofi quirked an eyebrow. "You never told us how you can send a message and make it appear as though it's from us."

"Secrets of the trade," Doris replied shortly. "We'll be in touch."

After the call disconnected, Izzy looked around to find pensive expressions all around. He glanced at Liv. "Do you really believe that Emi's just worried about you guys?"

"I hope so. I know I would be worried sick if I was in her shoes. It's just been so long since we were home that maybe she's a little less willing to believe that things are copacetic despite all the crazy shit that's happened recently."

"I'm not sure I believe it sometimes," Ali murmured. She then leaned over to rub Izzy's shoulder affectionately. "All available evidence to the contrary."

"You don't have to convince me," he enthused. "I've spent the last couple weeks convinced I died and went to the heaven in which I previously insisted I didn't believe. It's not hard to imagine someone not physically with us day to day would be very suspicious."

Sofi nodded. "Even Chloe and Faye are kind of freaking out, and they've seen us far more recently."

"The only real outlier is Hannah," Liv grumbled. "She couldn't give two shits about the fact that our dreams have come true. She just keeps demanding to know what we're eating, and how much we're exercising."

Ali nodded in agreement before giggling. "I think I'm going to send her the video I took of you fucking Izzy into unconsciousness last night to shut her up about you not being active enough."

"You didn't!"

"Take the video? Are you nuts? Of course, I did. That was hot as fuck. As to whether or not I share it with our exercise dictator, that depends in large part on you, Madame."

"How so?" Liv asked worriedly.

"Let me put it this way... I'll send that video to you and delete it from my phone if, and only if, you film us while Izzy is fucking me tonight."

"Oh no!" Sofi hissed. "I've got next. You two exhibitionists can do whatever you want, but I've got dibs on the dick."

"Is that all I am to you?" Izzy mocked.

"You are so much more than that, babe," Ali said warmly before kissing his cheek. "But you're also the dick these Sirens can't get enough of."

Twenty-Nine

"Is that it?" Ali asked hopefully.

"I don't think so," Liv replied dispiritedly.

"What kind of hateful maniac designed this place?" Izzy grunted as he started to execute his fifth U-turn of the last twenty minutes, no small feat on tiny residential streets when piloting a vehicle which was nearly six meters long. "Every goddamned street has the same fucking name."

"I mean?" Sofi offered gently. "Not exactly? For instance, this road is Seaside Court and the last one was Seaside Circle."

"Point taken," Izzy allowed. "It's still ridiculous. Also, what'd they do... block the GPS street mapping cars from entry? Why can't any of our phones make heads or tails of this place? I swear, I'm going to feed Oscar his ears for this."

"You will not," Liv retorted firmly. "It was incredibly generous of him to invite us, and we will make sure he knows how appreciative we are."

"Especially considering we're probably interrupting a week-long sex-a-thon between them," Ali added sotto voce.

Izzy took a calming breath upon realizing he had once again turned down the wrong street. "Oscar said he got a place with five rooms. Goodness' knows why."

"It was for us," Liv responded confidently. "Just in case we needed a place to lay low. He even got a place big enough to accommodate all of us if the four of us weren't sleeping together." She shuddered visibly at the thought before continuing. "We should have brought them a gift."

"Well," Izzy grunted. "It doesn't look like we'll get there any time soon. You three likely have time to write a song for them. Or sew a quilt. Or wait for the half-life of plutonium to expire."

Sofi chuckled and reached forward to rub Izzy's shoulders. "I'm sorry babe. We let you drive for too long."

"It's fine. It's not even late afternoon."

"Are you denying us the opportunity to make it up to you?" she murmured softly, just behind his ear. "I promise we'll make it worth your while. Just imagine a river of your awesome sauce flowing from my wrecked pussy..."

"There it is!" Ali yelped.

"Well," Sofi murmured coquettishly. "I guess you'll just have to imagine the rest. At least... until tonight."

The house Ali had pointed out was modest compared with many of its more ostentatious neighbors, but it still dwarfed any house in the upper middle-class suburb of the Latvian capital in which Ali and Sofi had been raised. Where the surrounding beach houses all had a decidedly, for want of a more elegant term, 'beachy' feel; the house Oscar had rented looked more akin to a traditional single-family home. It was two stories with a two-car garage and a lawn. The only nod to the fact that the Atlantic Ocean lay a few hundred meters to the east was a welcome mat in the shape of a shell.

Izzy pulled into the open garage, as Oscar had instructed, and Ali hopped out to close the door behind them. As Izzy climbed from the driver's seat to stretch, Oscar burst from inside the house with a panicked look on his face. Upon spotting his once-and-future boss, his grimace turned to a smile, and he crossed the polished concrete floor to offer his hand.

"What kept you?" the smaller man griped good naturedly.

"Are you serious?" Izzy groaned. "This place is a fucking maze."

Oscar shrugged and offered a sly smile. "All the better to avoid notice. Am I right?"

"Fair enough."

"What I'm sure Izzy meant to say," Liv interposed firmly. "Was to tell you how much we appreciate the offer to stay with you for a few days. It was extremely thoughtful."

Ali grinned gleefully and punched Oscar's shoulder affectionately. "Especially considering we're interrupting your honeymoon."

"What!" Oscar yelped. "We didn't... I mean... we're not..."

"I meant your relationship's honeymoon phase, you dork. You know... the have sex twenty times a day on every horizontal surface and have to give serious thought to things like hydration and chafing?"

Oscar's anxious expression faded, morphing into something more conspiratorial. "You sound as if you speak from experience."

"Well," Ali admitted. "We've been a little busy escaping from a vast criminal conspiracy to abduct us, but the desire to fuck ourselves into unconsciousness repeatedly until some weakling taps out is definitely still there."

"Well then," Oscar replied happily. "I guess congratulations are in order, in that case."

He shook Izzy's hand again, prompting the latter to say, "Don't get too excited. I'm old and decrepit, meaning I'd definitely be the one begging for mercy in the scenario Ali outlined."

"Not a bad position to be in, my friend. I'm happy for you. For all of you."

"Thanks," Izzy replied sincerely. "Same to you."

"Where is the lucky lady?" Sofi inquired.

"She's still recovering from surgery, so she's on the couch in the living room."

"Likely fit to be tied over the fact that we're having our reunion without her."

"Probably," Oscar admitted. "Can I help you with your stuff?"

"Let's leave it for now," Izzy replied. "We'll likely only unpack a tiny fraction of it in any case."

"Fair enough. Chloe's this way."

Their reunion was more tearful than Izzy had been anticipating, although hardly surprising once he took a moment to ponder the reason. The group huddled in the living room of the unremarkable house on the Jersey Shore had been through something traumatic together. They had known the death of a compatriot and had more than a few moments when their own survival was far from certain. Such a shared experience makes people blood brothers, regardless of gender.

The revelation was so profound that his mind began immediately scrambling for a way to redefine Oscar's role with respect to the band considering it no longer felt appropriate to consider the man a subordinate. But, as he pondered the possibilities, he realized that it had been years since Oscar was merely his employee. Their relationship had long ago transformed into something far more akin to that between a leader and a thoroughly trusted lieutenant. Along with this epiphany came the understanding that Oscar loved the band as well, just more akin to a brother rather than a lover. It was why the purported roadie had always insisted on doing so much more than merely setting up equipment. Izzy made a mental note to officially reclassify Oscar to... something more glamourous than roadie: something more in keeping with his profound import to the living, breathing entity that was Siren.

Once all the tears were dried, the group fell into an easy rapport. An American college football game was playing silently on the TV and the band found enjoyment gently grilling Chloe as to the sport's incomprehensible rules while Izzy began poking around in the kitchen with thoughts of preparing dinner for everyone.

Oscar found him peering into the fridge and said, "What's up? We don't have much on hand that you'd likely find appealing for a snack, unfortunately."

Izzy chuckled at the veiled reference to the fact that Oscar had the body, and the diet, of an Olympic athlete, whereas Izzy's own historical eating habits tended more toward the four major food groups of: fried, carbs, dairy and dessert.

"I've been trying to eat better, you know."

"Good for you."

"It's amazing how much easier it is when you're around people who naturally eat impeccably."

"Hey," Oscar complained. "I've been trying for half a decade to lead by example."

"No offense, my friend, but you're not near as fun to look at as they are."

"An assertion I will neither confirm nor deny."

Izzy shrugged and peered into the living room. "Not that you've done at all bad for yourself in the looks department. I'll be honest, I never really got a look at Chloe before we took off. After that..."

"She was all banged up," Oscar agreed.

"But she's really gorgeous. I'd make further comment about crude things like what a lug like you deserves or... how do you Americans put it?"

"Outkicking your coverage?"

"That's it. In any case, I can hardly talk considering..."

Oscar put his hand up to cut Izzy off. "Let us just say that we're both incredibly fortunate to be with a woman, or women, who, in addition to being spectacularly beautiful, are also amazing people."

"Hear, hear," Izzy toasted with an invisible glass. "Speaking of which, are there any potential minefields with respect to your status?"

"How do you mean?"

"The gorgeous Latvians in the other room have decided they are my girlfriends, and I am their boyfriend. The fact that they're all quite obviously mad as the infamous hatter is, apparently, something which is not to be discussed."

"Congrats!"

"Thanks. However, the point I was trying to drive toward was that I didn't want to put my foot in my mouth by mislabeling you two."

"Totally get it," Oscar responded effusively. "As long as you steer clear of things involving jewelry, I think we'll be golden."

"Got it."

"Which leaves us with you looking into the fridge helplessly like you're Frodo gazing into the Eye of Sauron."

Izzy chuckled and reopened the fridge. "I swear I wasn't grazing. Just thinking about making dinner for everyone. We haven't had a meal that wasn't either prepared by a stranger, or cooked under (to put it gently) trying conditions, in weeks."

"We had a fair number of staples delivered when we got here a few days ago. As long as whatever you've got in mind doesn't involve processed foods, we should be able to accommodate you."

"Do we have a grill?"

"Of course!"

Izzy finally took in the supplies in the fridge and noticed at once that there was far more food than two people could have eaten in a month. He pulled out a half-dozen steaks, along with the makings of a marinade, and set them on the counter before returning his attention to his companion. "What would you have done if I hadn't called?"

Oscar grinned at him slyly. "Stayed here until we ate it all." His expression then fell, and he lowered his voice. "Chloe's a lot more shaken up by the crash than she lets on. Her apartment in Asheville is right next to the airport. Every time she heard a small plane taking off or landing, she'd break out in a cold sweat. Half the reason I suggested we come here was to get her away from all that."

"How can we help? You know we all feel a level of responsibility about what happened."

"Why?"

Izzy sighed wearily. "Would it honestly surprise you to learn that Murdock had some hand in the crash? This never would have happened to her if I'd held firm and refused to allow Gus to hire that clown."

"That doesn't make this your fault, my friend." Oscar shook his head sorrowfully. "Whether it was an evil act on his part, or just bad luck, it certainly wasn't your doing. You helped save her, as she well knows."

"You did far more than I did."

"Something she reminds me of frequently," he quipped slyly.

"Good for you," Izzy replied in kind. "But you've got to let us help you out with the cost of this place."

"What the hell for?"

Izzy gestured around them wildly. "Because you obviously chose, and provisioned, this place with the thought that we might join you. Why else would you rent such a big house when clearly the two of you just need the one bedroom."

Oscar winked suggestively. "Variety is the spice of life."

"Just tell me you changed the sheets."

"We left one room untouched. Just in case you guys showed and you had finally seen the error of your ways. You'll notice it's the one with the biggest bed."

"Oh yeah," Izzy announced. "We're definitely reimbursing you for this place."

"No," Oscar replied firmly. "You're not."

"Very well," Izzy deflated. "But we're definitely giving you a signing bonus as part of your promotion to associate manager for logistics and security."

"What! I don't want that."

"Why not? You've been doing it for years already. Besides, are you really turning down the chance to make five percent on their next album? Not to mention next summer's festival circuit schedule where I suspect they'll headline not a few events. You've been an integral part of the Siren family for years, Oscar. It's long past time we recognize that."

Oscar gestured toward the living room with his chin. "They on board with this?"

Izzy shook his head in wonder. "What do you think? You know as well as I do that they're not like other rock stars. They don't care about riches and material possessions. They just want to be able to take care of the people they love and share their music with the world. You've helped immeasurably in getting them to where they are. Think of this as us showing you how appreciated you are."

Oscar sighed happily and swiped at his eyes. "Crazy business we're in, my friend. Can't imagine suits who spend their days figuring out how to profit off the labor of people working three jobs to put food on the table ever fight against a promotion."

Izzy nodded knowingly and wrapped an arm around Oscar. "One of many reasons why I've always maintained that it's a shame no one will trust artists to run the world."

Thirty

"Oh, my goodness," Chloe enthused later that same evening as Siren-plus-Izzy finished a well-known pop standard to which they had added an intriguing rock twist. "You guys are amazing!"

Oscar pulled her close and murmured, "They have had three different singles hit the top ten on the rock charts, not to mention two gold albums."

"I know," she huffed. "But sometimes there's a lot of computer wizardry taking place when albums are being recorded. I kind of stopped going to concerts after I went to see this one quote, unquote, pop diva and she could barely remember the words to her songs, much less actually hit any of the notes."

Izzy shook his head sadly. "It's something that's all too common. The music industry is, first and foremost, a business. Labels will always follow the money. In my opinion, it's becoming increasingly rare to find artists that are actually, you know, musicians?"

"That's why Izzy always threw a fit when my sperm donor tried to doll us up, or otherwise prioritize anything about us over our music," Ali added with a scowl.

"The good news is," Oscar interjected. "I'm pretty sure you get lifetime tickets and backstage passes to any Siren show you might wish to attend."

"Obviously," Sofi agreed. "She's family now."

"You guys don't have to do that," Chloe deflected.

"It's not about what we have to do, it's about what we want to do. Besides, we're playing two huge festivals next summer not far from you. You should definitely come check them out and find out why VIP passes to those events are so hard to come by."

"Not to mention," Liv added. "It'll be a great excuse to see Oscar."

Chloe blushed and, after leaning into her newfound boyfriend, murmured, "Oh, all right."

"You guys are so cute together," Sofi gushed.

"Um?" Chloe retorted playfully. "Ms. Pot... there's a Ms. Kettle on line three? You guys are, like, way cuter than us."

"They are," Izzy muttered. "I contend that I bring our average score down significantly."

"Izzy," Ali growled. "We talked about this."

"Are you nuts?" Chloe interrupted. "It's amazing how unguarded you are with them, how much you... I don't know... is it weird to say you worship them?"

Izzy shrugged. "I love them."

"See? That's amazing. And they obviously feel the same about you."

"Guilty," Ali agreed. "Even when he's being a self-deprecating jerk rather than recognizing that he's devastatingly handsome."

"And dead sexy," Sofi murmured.

Chloe smiled happily and burrowed further into Oscar as she stifled a yawn. Izzy stood and said, "I think we've kept our hosts up long enough."

Oscar signaled his agreement by standing with Chloe in his arms. She yelped softly, but the fact that her exclamation was more delight than surprise signaled that such a move was not uncommon on the part of the now-former roadie.

"Good night!" Chloe called over Oscar's shoulder as the pair headed up the stairs.

Sofi quirked an eyebrow suggestively and glanced in the direction of their own bedroom. "Shall we?"

Izzy hurriedly stowed the last of their instruments in its protective case and followed the trio of devastatingly desirable derrières up the stairs. Upon reaching the bedroom, he found each of his lovers standing shoulder-to-shoulder before the bed like history's sexiest Praetorian guard. He took a step toward them but Sofi, who was in the middle, held a single finger aloft to bring him to a halt.

She winked at him and sultrily murmured, "Your patience will be rewarded," before turning to her left to nod emphatically to Ali.

Siren's stunning frontwoman strutted toward Izzy in a fashion which teased an amazed grunt from his lips. Reaching him, she leaned up to flick his earlobe with her tongue before whispering, "Don't move. Let us do everything."

"Fuck," he whispered reverently.

Ali took a step back before slowly lifting her shirt over her head. Izzy's eyes bulged in amazement to spot the negligee she now wore, considering it was most definitely not the alluring, but ultimately functional bra she had donned as they dressed that morning. Her full C-cup breasts were cradled by her garment, but her dainty nipples were on full display.

In an instant, Izzy's mind went back to their informal concert earlier that evening in the living room. He had barely noticed at the time, but each of his girlfriends had disappeared for a song or two. Understanding bloomed at the realization that what he had initially dismissed as simple visits to the restroom were something so much more wonderful.

Ali's jeans quickly followed, revealing panties too tiny to even be called a thong. Izzy's mind began the process of wondering if it would be called a G-string when she turned and ground her, as near as makes no difference, naked ass against his groin.

"You honestly expect me to stand here like a statue when you're doing that?"

"Call it a game. If you can't help yourself and are compelled to grab hold of one of us and fuck us into oblivion, we will happily submit and the other two will cheer you on. However, if you're able to overcome your baser instincts and exercise restraint, you'll get all three of us. You're getting lucky either way. The only question is how lucky."

She returned unhurriedly to Sofi's side with a suggestive sway to her hips; each step a demonstration in master-level sensuality. Izzy did not even pretend to tear his eyes from her spectacular ass, delightfully bifurcated by the nearly invisible Y-shape of her G-string.

On Ali's arrival, Sofi turned to Liv and indicated for her to proceed. The latter took a few halting steps in Izzy's direction as her hands seemed to orbit from her hips, to her breasts, to her hair, and back again. Before she made it halfway across the room, she came to a halt and looked back to her companions.

She fiercely whispered, "I look stupid."

"No, you don't!" Ali gushed. "You look amazing."

"But I don't know what to do with my hands."

Sofi hissed, "Stop trying to act like a stripper, then. Just think about what you know he wants to see."

Liv took a calming breath before turning back to Izzy and, after gifting him with a shy smile, tugging her shirt over her head and pushing her jeans to the ground.

"Good Lord!" Izzy breathed at the sight of her fishnet body stocking which stretched from her shoulders to her ankles and showcased her stunning body to perfection. The designer of the garment had apparently felt that sparse fishnet might prevent the beholder from having a clear view of the most alluring portions of the wearer's body and it thus featured cutouts for her breasts and crotch.

"Do you like it?" Liv asked softly.

"How could you even ask that, honey?" he replied softly. "It, and you, are stunning."

She reached down to the playing-card-sized cutout at the apex of her thighs and said, "But you can barely see your pussy."

He grunted and reached down to adjust himself in deference to the painful swelling happening within his shorts. "Gods, you're so fucking sexy."

She curtsied shyly before returning to Sofi's side. Her return trip once again tested Izzy's resolve as the strategic openings in her outfit included the entirety of her luscious ass.

Sofi approached Izzy with deliberate steps. With each movement, more of her body was revealed to Izzy's hungry eyes. Beneath her T-shirt, she wore a bra with cutouts for her nipples. As she unfastened her jeans and bent at the waist to push them to the ground, he heard surprised gasps come from Ali and Liv.

Sofi straightened up and closed the distance to Izzy until she was within arm's length. As she approached, he noticed that her thong was crotchless and gave him the slightest glimpse of her tiny pussy. She then turned to face her bandmates and bent once again at the waist. Izzy's eyes followed her, and his surprised gasp matched that of his girlfriends when he spotted the jeweled end of a butt plug between Sofi's taut ass cheeks.

She looked over her shoulder at him and murmured, "See something you like?"

Izzy gazed between his three lovers in wonder. "It would take a thousand lifetimes to list all the things I see right now that I like."

"Then why don't you..." Sofi began, but she was cut off by the distinctive sound of the intro to Siren's first charting single. Sofi looked around worriedly. "That's the ringtone for my parents."

She looked apologetically to Izzy, who encouragingly waved her toward her phone and said, "Answer it."

Ali glanced at the clock, which indicated it was twenty-three minutes before eleven PM. "Why would they be calling now?"

Liv's eyes went to the ceiling as she concentrated briefly. "It's just after five-thirty in the morning at home. Do you think something's wrong?"

"I hope not."

Izzy had trouble following Sofi's conversation. Despite nearly a decade spent in the company of his companions, he had only picked up a smattering of Latvian. Hearing Sofi conversing in her native tongue once again reminded him of how amazing it was that all three women not only spoke perfect English in addition to their native tongue, but they could also think in either language.

"Is everything ok?" he whispered to Liv and Ali.

"Hard to tell," Liv replied. "She's mostly just prompting them to keep talking."

Izzy shut up and resolved to wait for Sofi to get off the phone so she could update them, but the next sound he heard was another cell phone ringing.

"What the fuck?" Ali grunted. "That's my mom."

Liv huddled against Izzy's side as they watched their lovers conduct trans-Atlantic conversations with their trusted parents. At length, Liv said, "It sounds like they're getting calls trying to determine our location. It's been happening for a few days, but the intensity is increasing."

"Fucking assholes," Izzy grunted. He then pulled his phone from his pocket and added, "Let me know if you hear anything else important. I'm going to call Doris."

Liv nodded somberly and moved to sit on the bed. Izzy crossed to the other side of the room so as not to disturb them. As he was pulling up the number for their contact at the internet security company who was helping them track down both Murdock's whereabouts and his motive, his own phone started ringing. He stared unmoving at it for several long moments before belatedly tapping 'answer'.

"Hello?"

"Inigo?" a tired voice on the other end of the connection replied. "Can you hear me?"

"I'm here, Mother. What's wrong?"

"I should ask you the same question. We're getting calls at all hours suggesting you're in dire danger. We were even told you were in an airplane crash, if you can believe it."

"What did you tell them?"

"That they'd have more luck contacting you, of course. It's not like we ever see you anymore."

"You disowned me," he hissed through gritted teeth.

"That was just a misunderstanding with your father."

"One he's reminded me of on each of the unfortunate instances when we've spoken for the last two decades."

"You know your father, dear," his mother sighed.

"No," Izzy retorted. "I really don't. Not since he told me I wasn't his son anymore when I dropped out of school. The fact that I did it to do something I love apparently didn't matter to him in the slightest, nor did the fact that I had the temerity to defy his prediction by not failing spectacularly."

"But that's all in the past now."

"I'm not the one who's keeping this rift alive, Mother," he hissed. "I've given him every chance to make amends. Seven times in the last twelve years, I've arranged a meeting and given him the opportunity to apologize. Each time, he either ignored my invitation, or jumped so quickly to blame me for everything, that I left before we even ordered our drinks. Face it, Mother, your husband will never forgive me for not bending to his whim."

"Why must you be so difficult, Inigo?"

"I don't have time for this, mother. We're dealing with some deadly serious issues right now."

"What are you talking about?"

"We were in a plane crash. About a week ago. Since then, there have been several incidents which make me believe it might not have been an accident."

"A plane crash!" his mother shrieked. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. So is the band."

"The band?" she asked worriedly. "You mean those little girls?"

Izzy shook his head wearily. "Just please don't give anyone any information about me. Or the band. I'll let you know when everything calms down."

"Wait, what about the crash?"

Izzy glanced up to see, much to his surprise, that all three of his girlfriends were off the phone and standing very close to him. He said, "I've got to go. Talk soon."

"Wait," his mother yelped helplessly, but he had already pushed the button to disconnect the call.

"What is it?" he asked worriedly. "Is everyone ok?

"Izzy," Liv whispered affectionately as she flowed against him and hugged him tightly. "I'm so sorry."

Ali joined her and murmured, "I had no idea, babe."

"What happened?" he asked with sincere confusion.

Sofi wormed her way against him as well. "We had no idea your parents disowned you. Was it because of your music?"

Izzy shrugged as well as he could while encircled by his lovers. "My father was stridently against me pursuing my dreams. He issued an ultimatum: I submit to his whim and stay in school... or else. I chose the latter."

"Well then... to hell with them," Sofi declared firmly.

"I don't harbor them any ill will," Izzy countered softly. "They're just not part of my life anymore." He squeezed them gently. "I'm not sure how it happened, how I was so incredibly fortunate, but somewhere along the way I found a new family."

"Izzy!" Sofi gushed.

"What'd I do?"

"How is it possible to love someone so much, and for them to still continually amaze you with how incredible they are?"

He smiled down at them. Each was still dressed (or perhaps they could be more accurately described as not dressed) so enticingly as to defy his capacity for rational thought. Yet the reason he felt completely cocooned by a sense of serenity was how devoted they were to his happiness beyond physical pleasure.

He kissed each of them briefly before replying, "I don't know, but you've succinctly encapsulated the way I've felt every day since you three made all my dreams come true."

More kisses were exchanged, but the specter of what had originally interrupted their evening remained.

At length, Izzy said, "Are your families ok?"

Sofi nodded and said, "Scared for us. But they're fine."

Izzy nodded grimly. "We need to call Doris. This has gone far enough."

Thirty-One

"Are we sure it's safe to be in public together?" Ali grumbled as Izzy pulled into an unremarkable parking garage in Newark.

Their anxious efforts to contact Doris the prior evening had been almost entirely unsuccessful. It was only after multiple calls from each of their phones that an out-of-breath, and obviously distracted, Doris had angrily answered the phone. She had agreed to meet them early the next morning so long as they promised to stop calling immediately.

The building to which she had sent them was a flex working space in a large office park. Izzy had trouble dismissing Ali's fears considering the large number of people present. However, as he studied them, he noticed that nearly everyone around them either had their faces buried in their phones, or were so haggard that they looked as though they were on their way to an audition for a zombie movie.

After parking, Izzy and the band waited in the car until the hour of their meeting was at hand. Then, after the girls donned their oversized hoodies, the group proceeded inside and managed to find their conference room with only a moderate amount of effort (the delay happening thanks in large part to the fact that the building's interior was an incomprehensible maze of dead-end hallways and unmarked passages).

Upon entering the room, they spotted a lone woman. However, the woman's appearance caused Izzy to back up a step and double-check the room number. Seated at the table with her head in her hands was a woman roughly Liv's size with medium length platinum blonde hair. She appeared to be wearing either a tank top or a small dress; as the entirety of her arms were bare. Although, as Izzy studied her, he realized that statement was not quite accurate. From his vantage point in the room's entryway, he could see a hint of the woman's face and neck along with all of both of her arms. Yet Izzy could not spot a space as large as a square centimeter which was not tattooed. Her ethnicity was, in fact, impossible to ascertain.

Their foursome stood rooted just inside the door until their host's Spidey-sense apparently kicked in and she reluctantly lifted her head.

"Catalunya?" she rasped as she blinked her eyes against the not-at-all bright lights of the room. As she straightened, Izzy saw that she was indeed wearing a very small, very tight dress. Her tattoos did not, in fact, cover the entirety of her body. Her face was unadorned save for small flourishes along her hairline. Her neck and chest, however, were as covered as her arms.

"What'd she do," Ali stage whispered, "sleep here?"

"Yes," Doris grunted, "as a matter of fact, I did."

"Why?"

"Because I would have caught hell if I'd missed this meeting. And because it was nearly four by the time I completed last night's... agenda items."

"I hope he at least treated you right," Sofi muttered.

"She was pretty peeved about your repeated interruptions."

"Hey," Izzy retorted. "We're specifically paying for round the clock support."

"They don't pay me enough for this shit." Doris huffed. She then looked up and added, "Hey... um... fuck... you with the tits... how about hooking me up with a coffee, yeah?"

"Excuse me!" Sofi fired back angrily.

"I think she was talking to..." Ali began.

Sofi growled, "I don't give a shit who she was talking to!"

Doris deflated and leaned back in her chair wearily. "I'm sorry. I had a really fucking shitty night. Not your fault at all. She was already working her way up to dumping me before my phone started ringing. So, I'm just in a really shitty mood. But, as you said, you're paying for round-the clock support. Tell me about these calls."

"Are you sure it wasn't our fault?" Liv asked softly as she took a seat next to Doris and delivered a coffee.

"Apparently, her parents think I'm a freak and she was tired of fighting with them over me. So, yeah, I'm sure it wasn't your doing. Just rotten timing."

The rest of the foursome took their seats and shared what they knew of the harassing phone calls made to their families. After just a few moments, Doris whipped out a laptop and caused one of the room's walls to come to life. As Izzy watched, a map came up and he watched what looked like flight paths focused on their part of the northern hemisphere.

"Fuck," Doris muttered as she typed furiously.

"What?" Izzy prompted.

"I should have anticipated this escalation. We could have had your families install apps on their phones which could have done some tracking on inbound calls." Doris turned to the band and added, "By the way, it looks like your friend in Latvia might be in the clear. She hasn't forwarded anything you sent her since our last talk."

"What about my sperm donor?" Ali asked darkly.

"Mr. Zarina has been less respectful of your wishes."

Izzy huffed, "That miserable bastard is a world champion at being disrespectful."

Doris shrugged. "Regardless. He's forwarded the last message you sent him to a recipient in the DC area who we believe with an eighty-seven percent confidence is Mr. Murdock. That device then forwarded the message to two other individuals, one in Maryland and the other in Bogota."

"In Columbia?" Sofi yelped.

"Indeed. Mr. Murdock apparently knows at least a modicum about internet security as he has thus far resisted our efforts to get access to his phone. The other recipients, however, were less careful. The first is a man with a half-dozen arrests for various narcotics-adjacent crimes, but no convictions. The second is a quote, unquote, businessman in Bogota with a not-insignificant number of ties to a moderate-sized crime syndicate."

"You're talking about the cartel?" Izzy replied in amazement.

"A cartel. There are, in fact, quite a few. But yes. I believe that would be an accurate description."

Izzy shook his head in amazement. "What the hell do drug runners want with a rock band?"

"That question stumped us as well until we did a bit more digging into your recent activities, Mr. Catalunya."

His head snapped up in horror. "Me?"

"Let me rephrase," Doris said quickly. "We're not suggesting you did anything wrong. Far from it. It's just that, as you know, you renewed several insurance policies on all three members of the band this past summer. One of those policies was, understandably considering how frequently they play shows in central and south America, kidnapping coverage. Their coverage was amended, in accordance with their heightened level of fame and success, from one million to ten million pounds sterling. Each."

"God damn it!" Izzy whispered.

Doris sighed wearily. "I did not mean to imply that this is, in any way, your fault, Mr. Catalunya. Neither myself, nor my colleagues, believe that to be the case. The policy on them makes perfect sense. The only reason I brought it up at all was the fact that the individual in Bogota specifically mentioned that amount."

"So, what do we do now?"

"We have forwarded the details which were obtained in accordance with international law to your contact with the federal government. They are proceeding on the assumption that the insurance represents motive. They do not, however, have any idea where Mr. Murdock is at present."

"And you can't tell them what you know because..."

Doris leaned back in her chair conspiratorially. "That would place us in a legally dubious position. I warned you this might be the case. Unfortunately, you must wait until Mr. Murdock and his associates are apprehended."

"There must be something we can do other than just sit around waiting for the inevitable."

Doris shrugged. "The only strategy we have come up with to force a resolution is not without risk."

"You mean risk to them," Izzy finished, gesturing to his companions. Doris nodded, prompting Izzy to add, "Forget it."

"Wait a minute," Ali interjected. "Let's at least hear her out first, babe."

"Babe?" Doris queried with a quirked eyebrow.

"What?" Ali retorted. "Did Izzy not mention that he's our boyfriend?"

"He failed to disclose that piece of information."

"Izzy," Ali complained teasingly. "How could you?"

"I thought we were trying to keep a low profile."

Sofi looked to Doris and murmured, "I think he's embarrassed to be seen with us."

The prodigiously inked security expert snickered and, after schooling her features, somberly replied, "I can see why."

"Wait a minute," he protested loudly. "I would never..."

Doris guffawed and slapped the table in unrestrained glee. "You dolt!" She turned to Sofi and said, "Is he always like this?"

"Nearly. Very infrequently, we manage to convince him for a moment or two that he's terrific. We're hoping there's a magic number of orgasms where, once we push him past that, he'll stop thinking he doesn't deserve us."

"At least someone's getting laid," Doris grumbled.

"I don't want to hear it," Sofi snapped. "These fucking assholes have been cockblocking us right and left ever since the crash. Both of them," she gestured to her bandmates frantically, "managed to close the deal with handsome over there. Last night, I was," she held up her hand with her thumb and index finger separated by less than a millimeter, "this goddamn close to getting a seriously overdue deep dicking."

"Well, then. We can Rochambeau over who gets dibs on kicking this Murdock in the testicles when we find him. Because that shithead is responsible for some serious lady blue-balls at this point."

"Regular blue-balls as well," Ali added.

"You guys left him hanging?" Doris retorted in surprise.

"He wouldn't let us do anything," Sofi complained. "Some bullshit about how it wouldn't be quote, unquote, right. So, the three of us were just standing around helplessly as he insisted that we put away our toys and sexy lingerie."

Doris smirked in Izzy's direction. "Hard to figure what they see in you, Mr. Catalunya."

Izzy shrugged his agreement, but a glare from Ali kept him from speaking up. Instead, he rose and refreshed everyone's coffee in addition to handing out a selection of breakfast bars and fruit he found at the refreshment station.

As he resumed his seat, Sofi leaned over to Doris and whispered, "Can I ask you something?"

"I guess?"

"It's about your ink."

Doris sighed wearily. "Yes, they hurt. No, they're not all related. Yes, I always wanted to get this many. No, I don't regret them. Happy?"

Sofi grimaced. "Right. Everyone must pester you about them."

"I'm sorry. Like I said, long night. What was your question?"

"I know they hurt. I mean, obviously. My question isn't really about the process of getting one, I'm more curious about the recovery."

"You have to take very careful care of them, or the colors can fade prematurely. It's especially critical in the weeks right after you get it."

Sofi groaned and shook her head. "I get that too. Look, I'm a drummer. I don't want to fuck up my tattoo or, worse, not be able to drum at all, because I get started on the sleeve I'm definitely going to get. I just need to know if I should wait to get started on my artwork until we have our next break. Which, thanks to dickhead Murdock, probably won't be until next fall."

Doris chuckled and laid her hand over Sofi's reassuringly. "I think you'll be ok. I'd just recommend going slow."

"Because you'll think I'll chicken out?"

"Not so much that, although that's always a possibility." Doris lifted up her arm to show a spiderweb covering her elbow. "I thought this was dope as fuck when I was seventeen."

"Don't you need to be eighteen to get a tattoo?" Liv interrupted.

"Technically," Doris allowed. "In any case, I thought it was rad when I got it. But, three years later when I was nearly out of space on my arm, I really wished I had that real estate back to do something which better fit the overall theme I was going for. No big deal, my artist made it work. I'm just saying don't be hasty."

"Izzy said I have to wait five years first."

Doris glared at Izzy judgmentally. "I thought he was your boyfriend, not your owner."

Izzy held up his hands in surrender. "I didn't say she had to. I said that was my rule... and why I never got any ink."

"Ah. Well, I guess there's some merit to that mindset." Doris glanced down at her arm and added, "Obviously I was impatient."

"Can you give us the name of your artist, assuming he or she is very discreet?"

"Sure. And she's the best. You can be assured she won't put anything she does for you on her socials."

"It isn't that," Sofi replied. "Or not just that. There's also the fact that Liv wants to get one too, but it's in a... sensitive place."

Izzy's eyes widened and he barked, "Oh, hell no!"

Doris leaned over to Sofi and whispered, "What's his deal?"

"God knows," Sofi huffed. She turned to Doris and added, "You're gay, right?" Upon getting an emphatic nod in reply, Sofi continued, "If a woman told you she wanted to get 'Doris's Pussy' tattooed just above her clit, how would you react?"

"Depending on how long we'd been together, I'd either be freaked the fuck out or I'd propose."

"What's it been?" Izzy asked. "Four days?"

"We've been together for eight years," Liv replied firmly as she reached for his hand.

Izzy could not help but smile as he took her hand. He turned back to Doris and said, "Like I said. Eight years."

"In that case," Doris replied with a cheerful grin. "I think you might should do some ring shopping unless you plan to get 'Liv's Cock' tattooed on your dick."

"What about me?" Ali and Sofi shouted in unison.

"Christ," Izzy muttered as he sank back in his chair.

Copyright © 2024 Jake Lazarus

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