Walking across the room, Storm picks up his drumsticks. “Your girl’s not wrong.”
I give Storm a smile. “And right after Phoenix’s a cappella, there’s a dark and hypnotic drum segment that you’ll make your bitch before you both merge and slaughter it together.”
It’s the best of both worlds.
“Just try it,” I urge when Phoenix starts to protest again.
“Fine.”
Storm gets back behind his drum set and a moment later, Phoenix’s deep, dark voice surrounds me like a fog before the drums kick in.
I’ve always loved this song, but what’s happening now is absolutely captivating. People are going to lose their shit. If there were actually seats at Voodoo…they wouldn’t be dry after this performance.
Midway through, Phoenix looks back at Storm, who gives him a nod. All the anger from before vanishes and their amazing chemistry is back.
I have to stop myself from jumping up and down like a fangirl when they finish. “I vote hell yes.”
Not that I get a vote in this, but dammit. They should do this song.
Phoenix looks at Storm. “What say you?”
Storm rubs his chin. “I’m with her. We’re already doing cover songs, so fuckers are gonna think we’re unoriginal anyway. Might as well go up there and make them eat shit like Lennon said.”
“Exactly.”
“All right,” Phoenix agrees. “Voodoo it is.” He juts his chin at Storm. “Let’s go again.”
I take a seat on the futon as they rehearse it a few more times, each rendition sounding better and better. However, halfway through practice number five, the power flickers on and off due to the storm.
They manage to make it through to the end, but when it happens during their next run-through, Storm throws his drumsticks on the ground. “Fuck this. I’m taking a break.”
I assume he’s going to grab something to drink or smoke, but he takes out his phone and starts texting someone.
Then he pulls out his keys and walks toward the door.
Phoenix must be wondering the same thing I am because he grunts, “Where are you going?”
Pausing midstep to text again, Storm says, “Sasha’s.” He shrugs. “We won’t be able to practice until this shit dies down. Might as well do something fun.”
It’s clear by fun he means hooking up with Sasha.
I can’t help but wonder if Storm knows about her trying to get with his friend first.
Phoenix snorts. “Won’t be having all that much fun, bro. I told you she—” Glancing my way, he stops talking. “Text me when you’re done.”
“She what?” I urge, more out of curiosity than anything.
Storm waggles his eyebrows at Phoenix. “I’ll be having more fun than you.”
Then he ducks out.
Crossing my arms, I look at Phoenix. “Why do I feel like the butt of a joke I’m not in on?”
He reaches for his bottle of water. “It’s nothing.”
I don’t buy that for a second. “If it’s nothing, then why won’t you tell me?”
He stops gulping his water. “You really want to know?”
I nod.
“I gave Storm a heads-up that Sasha was a lousy screw, but I guess he wants to find out for himself. Either that or he’s into chicks who lay there like a corpse.”
Safe to say I’m seriously regretting inquiring about it now.
“Oh.”
He finishes the rest of his water. “You asked.”
He’s right. I did. And now I know better.
We’re not a couple, but it doesn’t mean I want to hear about his hookups.
I’d also be lying if I wasn’t questioning whether him warning Storm about Sasha had more to do with him feeling resentful over his friend sleeping with a girl he once did.
“Kind of sounds like you might be bitter that he’s hanging out with her.”
He laughs, but there’s not an ounce of humor. “Trust me, I’m not.”
“You sure about that?” I press, fully aware I’m provoking him.
His shoulders tense as he stares down at me. “I’m not the jealous type, Groupie.” The punishing look in his eyes cuts me to the bone. “That would require me actually giving a fuck about a chick and I never do.”
It would hurt less if he punched me. “Got it.”
For a brief second, remorse flashes in his eyes, but then it’s gone, and he changes the subject. “Thanks for your help tonight.” Lifting his T-shirt, he wipes the sweat off his face. “I probably would have decked him if you didn’t intervene when you did.”
My eyes fall to the bruise on his hip. It’s no longer dark blue, but colorful…like a vibrant sunset.
Only unlike a sunset, it’s not beautiful. It’s ugly and cruel.
Because someone hurt him.
“Have you been back there since?”
Once again, he freezes me out. “I’m gonna grab a bite to eat. Want anything?”
Disappointment punches through my chest. Every time I try to get under the surface, he puts the lock back on and throws away the key.
I wish he’d open up to me. Because all I want to do is help him.
“Yeah. I want you to stop shutting me out whenever I ask about your dad. I know what you’re going through is hard, but—”
A sound of repugnance cuts me off. “You don’t know shit.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
The lights flicker as he takes a step in my direction. “You sit there in your ivory tower, loved and cared for by your daddy.”
My heart pounds painfully as he continues.
“You don’t have to lock your door to avoid getting hit by the bat your drunk father is wielding because he wants to kill you in your sleep. You don’t have to live in a shithole where every day is a constant reminder that one wrong move means you’ll end up just like him. You don’t have to wonder where your mom is and hope like hell she’s doing okay, even though she didn’t give a fuck about you because she left you behind.”
His declaration rips through my chest. “Ph—”
“You don’t know what it’s like to be hungry. And I don’t mean a few stomach growls.” His upper lip curls. “I mean the kind of hungry that hurts and makes you pray to a god you’re not so sure exists anymore that you find a way to get something to eat before your body gives out.”
A tear rolls down my cheek but that only makes him angrier. “You don’t know shit, Lennon.” Advancing, he corners me into a wall. “Because you’ve never had to want for shit. You have things people like me would die for.”
Inclining his head, his lips ghost over my ear. The threatening tone of his voice sends a shiver through my body. “Don’t you dare cry for me.” I wince when he grips my chin between his fingers, forcing me to look up at him. “I don’t want your bullshit martyr tears. And I sure as fuck don’t want your pity.”
The despair brewing in my gut turns to anger.
I want to help him, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be his punching bag.
“Fuck you. Just because you have a shitty life doesn’t mean it’s okay to push away the people who care about you and treat them like trash. Neither of us had a choice in the hand life dealt us. I hate that yours is so awful, and if there was a way I could swap with you, I would. However, I also know you’re not the first person who’s had to crawl their way out of the gutter and you won’t be the last.”