Jet (Marked Men, #2)(40)

He just smiled at me in a way that used to make me shake my head and follow him into whatever crazy scheme he was in the middle of at the time. Now it made the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“You forgot your fancy boyfriend in that list, sis.”

I frowned because no one in their right mind would call Jet fancy, but I wasn’t going to give him any ammo to work with. “I have to go, Asa. Stop calling me and hanging up, and if you have friends lurking around tell them to back off. Those guys I hang out with aren’t afraid to get physical.”

Something moved across the shimmery amber depths of his eyes. I knew the look well. I saw it enough in the mirror. It was fear.

“I haven’t called you, Ayd, and I just got to town today. Alone.”

I narrowed my eyes at him because he might be telling the truth, but there was just as much of a chance that he was running a game on me. “Seriously.”

I had to steel the reserves up. I couldn’t get dragged back into whatever Asa was running from. I had spent way too much time doing things I’d struggled to forget, in order to keep him alive and out of jail, when I should have been having sleepovers and trying out for cheerleading.

“I wish I could say it was nice to see you, Asa, but I don’t lie like that anymore. I hope you figure out whatever it is you’re running from, but it isn’t my job to fix it all for you anymore. Mom should have warned you of that before you tracked me down.”

I turned to go back to the sidewalk and I could feel his eyes burning into my back as I walked away.

“It looks like you’re still running, Ayd. Haven’t you figured out the horizon just gets farther and farther away, and the past stays exactly where you left it?”

That was part of what made Asa so dangerous. He could read a stranger from a hundred miles away. But me, me he already knew inside and out, and he didn’t even have to try to guess my weaknesses and fears. I didn’t answer him, and started running as fast as I could toward the park. I didn’t delude myself into thinking that this would be the last run-in I had with Asa. If he was in trouble, he wasn’t going anywhere. I needed to make sure that whatever he had brought with him from Woodward didn’t have the chance to bleed drama and chaos all over everything wonderful I had built here in Denver.





Chapter 8

Jet

I woke up alone, which wasn’t entirely surprising. What caught me a little off guard was the fact that it kind of pissed me off.

Friends with benefits was all fine and dandy, but after the night before, it felt like there was something else at work that neither of us should be able to ignore. We just fit. We just worked. If two people were ever supposed to be having sex on a regular basis, it was us, and the fact that she had such an easy time walking out after, irked me to no end. I wasn’t arrogant enough to think I was the end all and be all of lovers, but like I had promised her, it was a good time and it bugged me she was gone so soon. I wasn’t sure if it was my ego or something else and I didn’t like it.

I rolled out of bed and hopped in the shower. By the time I was out, my phone was blowing up where I had tossed it on the nightstand the night before. I pulled on a pair of bright red jeans and a black T-shirt and was shoving my feet into my boots and ignoring another call from my dad, when I saw that the first round of missed calls had come from Dario Hill, the lead singer of Artifice. I had worked with him a ton on the last album and they were the main reason we got signed on to tour with Metalfest last year. They were in the big time now and Dario found less and less time to just call and chitchat, so I started to freak out a little, wondering if the old man had circumvented me and tried to get in touch with them about the European tour without my help.

I pushed my mop of wet hair out of my face and twirled the ring that circled my thumb around and around while I called him back. I was prepared to leave a message, but Dario picked up on the second ring.

“Dude, I’ve been trying to call you all morning.”

I picked my guitar up off the floor where I had laid it down last night and ran my fingers over the stings.

“Yeah, I had a late night so I was slow getting to it this morning.”

He laughed. “Sounds fun.”

I don’t know that fun was the right word, more like life-changing, but Dario was an old-school metal head and he wouldn’t understand the significance of any of that, so I didn’t bother to try to explain it. “You could say that. So what’s up? I thought you guys were getting ready to head to Europe on tour for the new album.”

Going to Europe was a big deal. The global exposure was huge and it was just fun and exciting to play new venues and reach audiences that expected so much more. Metal overseas kicked the shit out of American metal any day of the week.

“That’s actually why I’m calling.”

I was mentally preparing myself for him to tell me that having my dad badger him crossed both our friendship and professional boundaries, and I missed a chord on the song I was absently strumming. I swore and set the guitar to the side.

“The band that the record label had planned on going with us fell through. I dunno what happened. They’re out though and we need a replacement act stat. They tossed around a few names, but I’m not stoked on being on the road with any of them for three months. I dropped your name, on the off chance they would be down for it, and I thought the head of the label was going to shit his pants. Why didn’t you ever say anything about them being after you to sign for, like, ever?”