The Rolling Saviours

Chapter One

Alyssa bent her head against the rain as she crossed the road, hazel eyes fixed on her destination :- A small, shabby shop on the street corner.

Tucked between a big-brand shoe store and a bustling, all-hours off licence, it's green painted exterior was almost invisible to most people.
Their eyes simply moved from the shoe store to the off licence, barely noticing the little shop.

Alyssa pushed open the door to be greeted by a blast of loud music and warm smile from behind the counter.

"Wet out there, isn't it?" Dominic said, pushing his black hair off his forehead.

Alyssa nodded, returning his smile as she crossed to the stands of records.

As she reached up to begin flicking through the top stand, a flash of pain seared across her side.
A yelp escaped her lips, hand darting to ribs that were bruised purple under her washed-out Rolling Stones t-shirt.

She was used to pain and reached up again, fingers pulling the cardboard-covered records forward in search of Alice Cooper, AC/DC and the Rolling Stones.

Nodding at the speakers, she asked, "What are you playing?"

"Led Zeppelin," Dominic answered.

"Rubbish," said Alyssa, pulling out a record triumphantly and holding it aloft.
"This is real rock."

"Nice to see the next generation being raised on real rock," said a quiet, gravelly voice behind her.

Alyssa froze.
This was a voice she heard almost every night, chiming in with backing vocals as his fingers pulled magic from a guitar.

A hand was laid on Alyssa's shoulder, light flashing on the silver skull ring adorning the wedding finger.

The famous skull ring that belonged to Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones.

Slowly, she turned, her mouth falling open as she saw all four members of the Rolling Stones standing in the record shop.

"Would you like that signed, honey?" asked Mick Jagger, gesturing to the record as he searched through the pockets of his long peacock-blue coat, finally producing a pen.

Her brain and mouth eventually connecting again, Alyssa managed to say, "Yes please," before handing over the record.

Mick glanced at her, pen suspended.
"Tell me baby, what's your name?" he sang.

"Cheesy, Jagger!" Ronnie Wood called from the other side of the record stand.

"Guys, shut up," said Charlie Watts. "Let her answer."

Alyssa smiled shyly at him before replying to Mick.

"That's a beautiful name. How old are you?" Keith asked.

"My father doesn't think so. I'm fifteen, Mr Richards."

"Fifteen and you like the Stones? We've corrupted the next generation!" Ronnie exclaimed triumphantly.

"What do you mean by 'your father doesn't think so'?" Mick asked, passing the record and pen over to Ronnie.

"He-" Alyssa stopped, remembering these were world-famous rockstars who wouldn't care about a random girl's home issues.
Four pairs of attentive eyes urged her to continue.

She took a deep breath and let the words tumble out.
"He abuses me. He abused my mother and when she left, he started on me. I'm not "Alyssa" at home. I'm "girl" or "bitch" or "you shit." He beats me, especially when he's drunk and he's usually drunk now."

Keith held up a hand, a fire of anger igniting in his eyes.
"Your father abuses you?" He asked, wanting clarification.

"Yes but it doesn't matter..."

"Doesn't matter?" Keith repeated, his voice low and dangerous.
"Of course it matters."

"Keith's right. Your record's paid for. Now, come with us."

"What?" Alyssa asked, frowning at Mick in confusion.

"If your home situation is as bad as you say, you're not going back there. We're taking you home, honey."

Alyssa stared at the four men.
"Stop pretending," she said quietly.

"None of us are pretending," Ronnie told her seriously.

"But you've only met me."

"So what?" said Keith. "You're being abused and you love our music. We'll adopt you, unless you'd rather head home again?"

The thought of home, with her father and his alcoholic rages, made Alyssa shiver.

"You're shivering at the thought of home. That settles it. Go get into the car. I've got your record."

Barely processing what was happening, Alyssa left the store with Ronnie and Charlie, who opened the car door.

"Jump in Alyssa," he said with a smile.

She got into the middle seat, thanking Charlie and smiling shyly at Ronnie as he sat next to her.

Mick got in, his coat flying over the seats to land in Alyssa's lap.

They drove in silence, her heart pounding as she tried to convince herself that she wasn't dreaming.

"Don't touch the fucking radio."
Keith slapped Mick's hand away as he reached towards it.
"I'm not fucking listening to you. I do enough of it at home and on stage."

Seeing Alyssa's confused face, Charlie whispered, "There's only one tape ever in this car. It's a solo album Mick did and Keith never lets him play it."

As they drove, Mick tried twice more to put the tape on.
Both times, Keith slapped him without taking his gaze from the window.

"Stop being such a fucking narcissist Jagger," he said, tone bored as he propped his feet onto the dashboard.

"Boots off my dash Keef," Mick said.

Keith ignored him, glancing into the back seats.
"You alright Alyssa?" he asked, his genuine concern almost bringing tears to her eyes.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd been asked that.

Words caught in her throat but she nodded and Keith smiled before turning to face the window again.

Soon they pulled up a tree-lined driveway to a huge house.

"Welcome to Evercreek," said Mick as he turned off the ignition.

A door opened as they exited the car and several dogs came bounding out.

Keith greeted each with affectionate words and gentle hands as they surrounded him, clearly devoted to him.

"Come meet the pack," he said cheerfully, waving Alyssa closer.

Skye was a Husky, Shadow an enormous black Newfoundland, Buddy was a striking black Labrador and Jack, a brown and white terrier of mixed breeding.

"I love them!" Alyssa exclaimed. She'd always wanted a dog and was now surrounded by four.

Keith smiled.
"Good. Now come in. We need approval from the women of this household."

He beckoned her with a wave of his hand, chain bracelets rattling on his slender wrist.

The house was enormous and beautiful, the floors wooden or tiled.

"We'll give you a tour soon," Mick said, "Once was have our women's say-so that you can stay."

A door opened.
"Speak of the devil," he muttered.

A/N
This would have been up faster but my internet's been down.
Hope you enjoy, drop me a comment if you do!