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The next few hours were relatively uneventful. Mel and Joey set up his kit and the band played their show without any major hiccups.
Mel kept herself posted close behind Joey's kit the entire show, closer than she usually stayed but still out of eyeshot from the crowd. She could tell he was keeping an eye on her; even in the middle of a song sometimes he'd turn to her and watch her for a few seconds before focusing back on the drums in front of him.
Mel was almost done loading Joey's broken down kit into the band's trailer after the show when she caught sight of what didn't look like more than a mere shadow skulking towards the bus from somewhere down the street. She told herself that it didn't mean anything; there were people all over the place since the show had recently ended and it was a Saturday night. It wasn't unusual to see someone walking down the street. It didn't mean anything. It was fine.
She hauled out a couple of more cases, checking to make sure Mick was still sitting just outside the back door of the venue in a folding chair taking slow drags off of a cigarette where he'd been before. He was. She was safe. She was fine.
She was buried in the trailer a few minutes later, stowing the last drum case so that it was snugly fit amongst everything else when she heard Mick's distinctive deep voice yell something in an aggressive tone. She couldn't make out what he'd said, but the force and volume of his voice startled her and made her hit her head on one of the cases she'd just packed so carefully.
"Fuck," she mumbled, shoving the case back into place and making her way towards the open trailer door.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Mick asked someone, and she could hear some sort of scuffle. She hurried to the end of the trailer and gasped at the sight of Mick having someone pinned up against the wall, his hand on their throat. His hulking figure blocked the person in front of him, and Mel watched as a small crowd of other members of the band surrounded him.
"Mickael, what the fuck?" Mel questioned in a dumbfounded tone, baffled as to why the hell her brother had someone pinned up against a fucking wall and why he seemed so angry about it.
It wasn't until Mick turned his head toward her, the movement letting her catch a glimpse of the face in front of him, that she realized what was going on. It was him. Somehow, Mick had the guy who'd raped her by the throat, pushing him so hard into the wall that his face was turning a sickly shade of purple.
She gasped, not even knowing what the say. A couple of the band members that had appeared nearby were asking what was going on, but none of them were making any moves to back Mick down. Mel suspected that they all knew better than to question him when there was such pure rage flashing through his eyes.
"This fucker was trying to get into the trailer behind you. He was watching from down the street and made a move when he thought I wasn't looking. This is him, isn't it?" Mick asked, and though she wasn't quite sure how she knew he already knew the answer. She nodded slowly anyway.
