Book 1: Lost In Translation (Another Reason To Cry) (Izzy Stradlin FanFic)

Ch. 13: Lost In Her Arms

My heart was pounding as I pulled up to the Whiskey. It's not like I was scared to see my bandmates, or even that I was scared for Melody to meet them. On the contrary, I was kind of looking forward to it. If my best friends approved of my girlfriend-which they will, because Melody is amazing-that would just be the icing on the cake.

No, I wasn't scared for either of those reasons. However, I was anxious to see what Duff had had in mind in order for the band to be able to communicate with Melody. As Duff had said, I didn't need to protect her, and I knew that. But, that wouldn't stop me from worrying about her or still wanting to protect her any way that I could.

I felt a soft touch, as light as a feather, pulling me from my thoughts. Coming to my senses and looking down, I saw Melody's tiny hand resting atop mine on the steering wheel. Her hand looked so miniscule compared to my own, it only seemed to confirm my belief that I should continue to protect her for as long as she was mine. As long as she had me wrapped around her infinitesimal finger, I would walk through Hell and back for this girl.

"Are you ready?" Melody mouthed to me, her lips parting into a toothy grin.

I shrugged slightly, my eyes roaming passed Melody, looking through the window at the bar behind her. Big men clad in studded leather seemed to be crowding the place, their bikes parked outside, smoke lingering above their heads. Funny how before I had Melody to worry about, I'd never seemed to notice these guys before.

"Are you?" I asked, my eyes flickering back to her.

She nodded enthusiastically, her eyes seeming to light up at the question.

I had forgotten that she never got out much. Places like this were simply another dot on one of her many LA skyline paintings. Born deaf and with a silver spoon in her mouth, she had probably never even drove through a neighborhood as seedy as this one. It showed in her outfit: a tight, black party dress with lace running all along her arms. A contrast to the ripped denim skirts and leather jackets the other girls in the bar would be wearing. Still, she looked better than all of them. And she was mine.

Well, if she wanted to live life, who was I to stop her? I'd have to just do what I've been doing since I met this spitfire; let her do as she pleased, and follow close behind.

"Then let's go," I said, forcing a smile to look as excited as she must've felt.

With a cheery squeal, Melody leapt out of the passenger's seat and bolted for the bar. When I realized that Melody wasn't waiting for me to catch up, I picked up my pace, jogging to chase after her.

As she passed through the crowd of men surrounding the front door, various cat calls and whistles were made at her. Of course, she heard none of them, and stepped through the army of creepy men with her head held high, a smile on her face, and a skip in her step.

God, she was cool.

I reached the entrance just as the door closed behind her. I pulled it open once more and stepped inside, my ears immediately taking in the sounds of hard rock and people shouting. The pub stunk of alcohol, cigarettes, and the faint stench of weed.

"Melody!" I groaned. For about the millionth time since I'd fallen for her, I was being forced to chase after her. But damn, did I love it. This girl really knew how to keep me on my toes.

I stumbled through the dimly lit dance floor, ducking and diving around dancing bodies, searching for a flash of red hair in the crowd. I probably looked like an idiot, standing on my tip toes and whipping my head around every which way.

Through the music, I thought I could hear someone shouting my name. I turned on my heel and saw four figures seated at a table, their arms up and waving at me. Squinting, I could just make out Melody, seated beside Duff, her smile wide and her eyes bright.