AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Have Anna share a song she likes.” I pass people with badges and cameras, security clad in all black despite the scorching sun overhead, and talk into the phone about As Above’s PR rep.
“Anna doesn’t do that, stupid.” I can hear Leo’s eyes roll. “I do.”
“So.” I shrug my way through a conversation that’s taking place right in the middle of the walkway and stomp around a woman carrying a tray of drinks—one of which I snag as I pass. “Share a fucking songyoulike then, genius.“ Shaking my head, I tip back the drink and growl when the bitter shit hits the back of my throat. “I have no idea what that was, but it was not good.”
“Stop stealing people’s shit, then,genius.”
I stop, right in the middle of a walking horde, and swing around in search of the wily band manager. “How’d you know?”
“I do now.” Leo’s chuckle filters through the phone. “Did you tell ’em to come—“
“Yeah,” I cut him off and resume walking even though I have no idea where I’m going. “Dreadful Souls. Work your magic, Le.” I pull the device from my head to end the call before he can give me shit for the nickname he hates and look around me.
The pathway is lined with more canopies, similar to the ones out in the venue, and boasts all kinds of shit, just like they do on the other side of the stage. Just on a smaller scale with smaller lines and fewer bodies.
And, well, better quality shit.
Like the VIP of VIP sections.
My stomach growls at me when the scent of food wafts through the air and I follow with a lifted nose to the one that subtly advertises street tacos and margaritas.
I wonder if Cedar likes margaritas …
I pause. Once again stopping in the middle of a crowd that walks around me like I’m a tree rooted in the spot and growl at myself.
Goddamn, I’m thinking about her again.
I can feel the heat rising up my chest, whether from feeling like Cedar’s playing me, or because I really am fucking curious, I’m not sure. Either way, itpisses me off so much I almost forget I need a damn shirt since I lost mine in the pit.
I step to the right and snag a band tee from the table next to the tacos without a care as to who’s advertised on the thing. Holding the folded fabric up, the tenant waves a dismissive hand at me.
“On the house, man.” His waving hand gestures to the small tv mounted in the far corner of his tent, the screen showing the current band on stage. “Great show.”
“Thanks.” I jut my chin but pull out my wallet and throw a fifty on top of the pile of shirts anyway.
I step back to stand in the two-person line at the taco stand and unfold the shirt. Shoving my arms and head through, the fabric stretches tight over my chest and hangs loose around my narrow waist and I glance down as I smooth the wrinkles out of the design.
In scrolled lettering, a skull stares back at me with flames shooting from the orifices, the band name repeated throughout the design in gold lettering to make the shape.
And I snort when the name registers.
Dreadful Souls.
“Next?”
Chapter Eight
Cedar
God,IhatethatI want to like Fin.
That a single touch from him can make me forget all my reasons why being anywhere near him is a bad fucking call.
And I also hate that my passion and talent leave me with a sore body that just wishes it could be massaged by rough, calloused, guitarist fingers …
Hell no.
I growl my frustration out loud and sink farther down into the tub of hell hot water that’s so high up, it threatens to lob over the sides with each move I make.
