Protective Shadows (The Protective Series, Book 2)

Chapter Ten

[Jarmo's P.O.V]

Colorado Springs had a wide range of bars, cafés and night clubs. Janne and I walked along the sidewalk, debating over whether we should go back to the hotel, or actually live up our rockstar lives and start a party just by walking into a club.

The streets at nighttime were bare, except for the occasional teenage hookups stumbling all over the footpath and bashing into shop doors in the fight to remove clothing in record time, and drunk men arguing over the football match that had been screened in the pub, yelling unintelligibly which side won, and which side should have won.

Being in the United States felt very foreign. I had been in Finland all my life, and had chanced it big time by replying to Jed's advertisement on Facebook and YouTube, calling for three muscular men to help him form what was now Protective Services. The food here was more than half the size of food in my home country, which meant I had to share it with Janne, and Jed shared his with Asko. How Americans could eat what they did, without being sick afterwards, was a complete and utter mystery to me.

"Let's go into this one," Janne suggested, halting outside a club with a white brick exterior, featuring a long stretch of white along the front, with a white lit sign reading 'for sale: beer, lots of it'. "Hey, how are you and that guy from Australia going anyway?"

We walked in unison through the electronic doors, stopping dead centre in the room to observe our surroundings. The first floor was massive, featuring a darkened dance floor in which people line danced, placing their knuckles on their hips, twirling in circles, wearing different coloured cowboy hats. Further up ahead, an antler chandelier cast golden light down onto the bar beneath. An illuminated star behind the bartender read Cowboys night club, confirming in the deepest recesses of my mind that this was a country style club.

"Dylan? We broke up," I replied, heading around the dancers towards the bar, squeezing my frame through the large crowd of onlookers. "It wasn't working out."

"Meaning...?" Janne babbled on, staggering beside me through the crowd.

"Meaning he only wanted money," I sighed, dropping onto a stool just in front of the bar. "I've concluded that it's better to stay single. You have less dramas than you would being in a relationship."

Janne pretty much fell onto the stool beside mine, swivelling around so that he was facing the bartender, a smile plastered across his face. "Two Heinekens please."

Both Janne and I had changed out of our uniforms. After a quick shower two hours before, I threw on a plain white t-shirt with a black neckline, matched with my favourite pair of black gothic metal type pants, with a chain dangling just below the thigh. Janne wore his black Hanging Garden t-shirt, and plain blue jeans, his slick brown hair pulled out from its earlier ponytail, spilling freely over his shoulders.

The young bartender placed two green bottles on the bar, offering a friendly, courteous smile. "Enjoy, Protective Services, it's on the house."

"Cheers," Janne held up his bottle in the air, "to rescuing Asko, successfully."

I picked up the remaining bottle, gently clicking it to his. "Cheers."

Both of us threw our heads back, downing a few long gulps of the sparkling liquid. I exhaled a relieved, content sigh as the beer burned down my throat, giving me a good buzz.

"Remember the good old days in Naildown?" Janne asked, taking another gulp. "Those were the days, hey?"

"They sure were, buddy boy," I smiled, throwing back another gulp. "Back when being in a metal band was hip and cool, and we had the most amazing friend in the world, Dane."