Chapter 22
(Rebel)
Hey, I've been waiting for you to get back to me on that idea I pitched you the other night. What’s the deal?
There is no deal. The timing is horrible. I’ve got too much shit on my plate to even think about it right now.
I need you to find a room.
If you insist on an answer right fuckin’ now, it’s no.
Dude! You can’t mean that.
I can, and I do.
Can’t you see how big this could be?
No, because I don’t have time to think about it right now or figure out what kind of time commitment it would be because you can’t wait two fucking minutes for me to fucking give it the consideration it deserves before pestering me for an answer.
Relief swept over me when the dreaded dots of doom didn’t appear at the bottom of the message window.
Maybe the fucker had finally gotten the point.
“Dude, why are you still standing here? We've got to go!” Johnny said, tugging my sleeve to get me moving.
I yanked my arm back, barking at him before I could think about checking my tone. “Cut it the fuck out! I’m coming!”
“Damn man, who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?"
“Just get on the fucking bus and leave me the fuck alone!” I snapped.
“Whoa, hey, let’s take it down a notch and chill for a minute,” Kit said, sliding between me and Johnny.
He didn’t put his hands on me; he just held his up so I could see that he didn’t intend to touch unless I invited him to.
“Yeah, a minute would be good,” I said, fishing in my pocket for my vape.
Kit inclined his head towards the side door, away from our bus, and Sully and Vale followed us outside, where I immediately took a puff.
“Fuck!” I growled. “I owe Johnny an apology.”
"Yeah, you do. The question now is, why did you just bite his head off?” Kit asked.
Glaring at the ants marching across the pavement, I took a few more puffs before I answered. “Fuckin’ Knightly's been blowing up my phone all morning and pissing me off!”
And because the universe hated me today and wanted to heap dry wood on the raging inferno that was my temper, my phone chose that moment to blip.
“Son of a…”
Sure as shit there was a message from Knightly waiting for me.
The thing is, I sort of already told Cole and Davy that you were in.
Of course he did.
Motherfucker.
Then you’d better tell them you lied, or better still, I’ll text them and let them know you’re out of your fucking mind.
“Is that him again?” Kit asked.
“Irritating fucker.”
“Is your block button broken?”
“What? No, the fucker works just fine,” I grumbled.
“Then why the fuck don’t you use it instead of putting up with his shit?” Kit asked.
Okay, fair.
I didn’t have an answer though. I’d considered blocking him in the past and never gone through with it, though I wouldn’t have been able to explain why if anyone had asked. I felt like a fucking idiot as I stood there staring at Knightly’s profile before hitting the button to block him.
“See, simple,” Kit said. “Now let’s have a few more puffs and join the band. I’m looking forward to this.”
“Yeah, me too,” I admitted, hating that Knightly had wrecked the enthusiasm I’d woken with.
“Still not going to show me what you’re getting?” he asked.
“Not until it’s on me.”
“Spoilsport.”
“Sometimes.”
Without Knightly irritating the fuck out of me and with a healthy dose of nicotine in my system, I was finally starting to chill the fuck out again.
“We’d better get moving,” I said a few puffs later, and headed around the side of the building beside Kit to get on our bus. Vale was riding with us today, with the rest of our guards in the SUV parked behind it.
Johnny sat at the end of the couch next to Dash when I got on the bus, shoulders slumped as he stared at me.
“Sorry, man,” Johnny muttered.
“No, I’m the one who's sorry,” I said, closing the distance between us so I could tug him to his feet and into a one-armed hug. “Knightly was being a dick. It had nothing to do with you. We good?”
“Always,” Johnny replied.
“What’s the fucker done now?” Ozzy asked as I turned Johnny loose so Kit and I could go sit on the couch beside him.
Groaning, I rubbed the back of my neck, not really wanting to get into it with them. “It’s been dealt with. He’s currently blocked.”
“Whoa, okay, must be serious, then,” Dash said.
“That stupid fucker told Davy and Cole that I’d agreed to join the three of them in a project he has in the works.
He’s calling it Acoustic Hellscape, and yeah, what little he told me was intriguing, but I never told him I was in.
I told him I had questions I’d ask once I had a chance to work them all out. ”
“Knowing Knightly, that ticked him off.”
“He’s probably more pissed now, since I never answered the last message he sent,” Rebel said.
“Oh well,” Kit muttered. “Fucker’s a douche.”
“I should probably let Cole and Davy know he’s full of shit,” I said, reaching for the phone I’d tossed on our narrow coffee table when I sat down.
I shot off two rapid-fire texts, briefly informing them both that Knightly didn’t speak for me and that I hadn’t agreed to anything regarding the project.
Shit, man, the only reason I said I’d do it was to work with you. Cole texted back moments later.
Looks like I was destined to do a lot of apologizing today. Sorry. All I know about it is what he’s texted me in the last few days, which didn’t explain a lot.
Thanks for the heads-up. Is there a chance you’ll change your mind?
Doubtful. He and I aren’t speaking right now.
I might be saying the same thing by the end of the day.
Hope you get it sorted out.
Doesn’t sound like there’s anything to sort if he flat out lied to us.
He did.
Yeah. I’m out. He can find someone else to sing.
Sorry, man.
Don’t be. I’d rather know now, before I wasted any more time fine-tuning the songs he sent me. They’re rough as fuck.
That’s because his band always polished them for him.
I did not know that. Thanks again.
Yeah. Hope your day gets better.
You and I both.
Our short conversation left me feeling bad for the guy, who had an amazing voice but shit luck when it came to joining bands with staying power. I’d heard a few of his acoustic sets, and if I were Knightly, I’d have chosen him too, only I wouldn’t have lied to rope him into a project.
“Something tells me Knightly’s day just went from bad to worse,” Johnny said when I laid down my phone.
“You could say that. Cole wasn’t happy. I haven’t heard anything from Davy yet, but that’s normal for this time of day.”
“Yeah, your phone is going to light up like the Fourth of July when he gets up,” Johnny said as our bus pulled up behind The Lizard Lounge, which, despite how many tattoo displays appeared in the window, people still thought it was a strip club.
Do you know how many people have wound up making appointments to get ink after popping in here? Diesel, the owner of the shop, had proclaimed the one time I’d dared to suggest he change the name.
I didn't, and it worked for him, so who was I to judge?
“My man,” Deisel said, pulling me into a one-armed, back-slapping hug the moment I stepped into the shop. “It’s been too long, brutha.”
“Tell me about it,” I said.
“This the new guy?” he asked, gesturing to Kit.
I slung an arm over Kit’s shoulder and tugged him closer so I could introduce them. “Sure is. Kit is our new drummer.”
“Hey, wait,” Kit said, “Aren’t you…I-I mean…weren’t you the lead singer of Ghost Chains?”
“One in the same,” Deisel said. “Welcome to my second career.”
“Okay, I need a moment to stand here silently so I don’t start fanboying out,” Kit declared.
“I like him,” Deisel said. “He’s got good taste in music.”
The room filled with laughter and handshakes as we greeted the rest of the crew and posed for some badass photos in the entryway, lots of devil horns and tongues sticking out. We’d do after-shots too, with close-ups of all our new tats, fodder for the studio and the band’s social media pages.
“He’s awesome,” I declared, parting ways with Kit as Byron, his tattoo artist and co-owner of the shop, led him to the room next to mine.
We all had our favorite artists, which meant they closed the place down for us when we dropped in.
It wasn’t as often as I’d have liked, since there were several pieces I wanted to see added to my body, like the one he’d be inking on my abs today.
I’d had that spot reserved for a while now as we worked out the design and time when our schedules lined up.
The tail of the clockwork seahorse was going to wrap around my already pierced navel, all darker hues and shading, to really bring out the steampunk vibe. Yes, I had a thing for seahorses. Adding this one to the collection had been a long time coming.
“You want the usual?” Deisel asked.
“Yup,” I replied as I got comfortable on the table.
He passed me a handful of Tootsie Roll Pops and put Pink Floyd on the smart speaker so I could veg out while he got to work.
The Tootsie Roll Pops were for when I got shaky, which I always did.
Fortunately, he was never without a big bag in his drawer, since sugar crashes were normal, especially for newbies or in the middle of a long session.
“You’ll never believe who I heard from the other day,” he said as he was setting up.
“Why tell me if I’m not going to believe it?” I asked.
“Because you’re going to love it when I do.”
“Spit it out already!”
He laughed and cut me a look over his shoulder. “Never rush the man holding the needle.”
“You aren't holding it yet.”
“No, but I will be,” he said, wagging his finger at me. “And it was Ryan Benning.”
It took a second to place the name; I hadn’t heard it in so long. “I thought he was dead.”
“You’re not the only one. I called bullshit when he said his name. Then he brought up the night the three of us spent riding the subway all over New York City just so we could people-watch."
“Shit,” I murmured, face scrunching up as I tried to recall anything about that night. “I forgot all about that.”
“So had I, until he reminded me,” Deisel said.
“Where’s he been at all this time?”
“Vancouver.”
“Damn. Okay.”
“He was looking for you.”
“Me? Why?”
“Do I look like your secretary?”
“Not sure. Can I see you with your hair down?” I replied.
He looked like he wanted to throw a glove at me instead of putting them on but settled for flipping me off.
“He didn’t say what he wanted, and I didn’t give him your number. I’ve got his in the drawer for you,” Deisel said. “I kept meaning to text it to you, but you know how it is.”
“Yeah, you stuck it in the drawer and forgot about it,” I said. “That’s how it is.”
“You know me too well.”
“I should, after all the nights we partied together,” I said. “Kinda odd that he’d be looking for me though. Last time we spoke didn’t exactly end on a pleasant note, now that I think about it.”
“I heard you two got into it over something, but he never said what.”
“Meh. Chances are one or both of us blew it completely out of proportion,” I muttered.
He chuckled and got ready to position the transfer. “Don’t remember, do you?”
“Do you know how many people I piss off?” I asked.
“Is the list as long as it always was?”
“Until this morning, I’d been working on making it shorter.”
“Yeah? Who’d you piss off today?”
“More like who pissed me off,” I admitted. “You know how Knightly can get.”
“You still speak to that asshole?”
“At the moment, no, he fucked around and got blocked.”
“I blocked his ass a long time ago.”
“Starting to think I’d have been better off doing that too.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Bad habits are hard to quit.”
“You can say that again,” he grumbled.
The position looked perfect, so I popped a Tootsie Roll Pop in my mouth and settled in, thinking about the way some of the roughest patches in my life had begun and ended with Knightly and how that wasn’t a road I ever wanted to go down again.