Bullet(28)

“Maybe.”

He raised his eyebrows and pointed at me. “You better be here.” And off he went.

Jennifer said, “Oh, my God. Who was that?”

“Brad Payne. He’s in Ethan and Zane’s band. He sings part of the time, plays guitar.”

“Holy cow. He’s hot. And he really likes you.”

Yeah, well…I’d thought Ethan liked me too. I wasn’t about to get my hopes up again.





Chapter Thirteen



JENNIFER AND I were completely wired and ready by the time Fully Automatic came on stage. I’d had a mini concert in Brad’s garage months ago, but I’d never really seen them onstage, and I certainly hadn’t heard them singing my words. I might have been angry feeling like I had to watch them had Brad not put in an appearance beforehand. I wasn’t ready to see Ethan.

Both Ethan and Brad split up the singing time. Most of Ethan’s singing really was my words, and even though I was so angry at him I could spit nails, it felt good to hear my stuff. Jennifer fell completely in love with Zane watching him onstage and she seemed mesmerized, but she still took time to ask, “Hey, is that the poem you told me he converted into a song?”

“One of many.”

It didn’t escape my attention that when Brad could spot me just off the edge of the stage, he focused on me. His gaze penetrated deep into my soul and made me feel better about Ethan. I noticed that Ethan noticed me once and then avoided looking at me the rest of the time. Good. Let the bastard squirm. I knew that wouldn’t happen, though, because at some point, Ethan would hit that point where he experienced a performance high, and no one else existed. I’d seen him do it before…disappear into Ethan’s music world.

The second to last song, Brad said, “I’m dedicating this song to the cute brunette standing near the edge of the stage.” He looked over at me. “You know who you are.” He made sure I did know it by looking me straight in the eyes. And since he’d made such a production out of getting my attention, I made sure I gave him plenty of mine. I had plenty of admiration to give him. He’d stripped his shirt off midway through the show. I’d already noticed a new tattoo on his left arm, but I had no idea that he’d had a couple under his shirt. But more impressive than the tats was the definition of his abs and pecs. He was covered in a slight sheen of perspiration which just made each muscle stand out more. He’d been wearing a Black Label Society t-shirt over knee-length faded jean shorts with black Converse shoes. I scanned his calves for more tattoos and found none, but I knew that could change over time.

His hair, now fully past his chin, was damp, and I saw a bead of sweat slide down the side of his face. His dark eyes, though, were hotter than anything else on his body, and he was caressing me with them every chance he got. “This song is called ‘Want You’.” Okay, so that really got my attention, and I knew I hadn’t heard this song when I was in his garage. Had he written it since I’d last seen him?

I didn’t catch all of the lines, but I caught enough, because this song didn’t have screaming vocals—they were all clean. And even though some of the lines still suffered from what he’d described as being generic, they got the point across better than any other words could have. And I wasn’t the only one who thought so. By the end of the song, some of the girls in the crowd were waving their lit-up cell phones over their heads.

I’d heard the chorus enough to know what he sang:



“Want you, baby, be mine tonight.

I need you more than words can say.

I’ll make you my queen, make you my whore,

But I know I can’t have you anyway.”



I wondered if the actual words were supposed to mean something to me or if he just wanted to dedicate his sexiest song to me to send a message? Either way, I got the hint.

After the last song, one that would have become their signature (had things not changed), called “Bullet Through My Soul,” they got their stuff off stage so the last band could set up. Jennifer and I enjoyed the third band halfway through until Brad came out and headbanged with us for a few minutes. Then he urged us to come backstage.

Well…if you could call it that. Backstage was barely even a room. Crammed in there were several band members from both Fully Automatic and the first band. It was quieter, though, and we could talk.

Zane joined Brad, and I could tell something between him and my roommate had reignited. I was glad, because I wanted them to be happy, but more than that, it meant I was free to feel like I didn’t have to entertain my friend. Brad said, “We’re gonna go party at Zane’s in a minute. Much as I wanna stay and headbang, ‘cause this band’s awesome, Ethan’s in a hurry to get out of here. So…you’ll come by after?”

I smiled. “Yeah.”

“Promise?”

“Yes. I said yes.”

“Just making sure.”

Zane actually kissed Jennifer before the two of us went back in the crowd. Jennifer was ready to leave; I could tell. But I told her the guys would want to clean up before we got there, so it wouldn’t hurt to give them some time.

We left when the last band was done playing, and then we had to wait some for the parking lot to clear out. When we got to Zane and Ethan’s, I knocked on the door, hoping against hope that Ethan didn’t answer the door. I still couldn’t look at him.

Zane answered the door. There were several people in that tiny little room. Zane had been sitting in his desk chair and invited Jennifer to join him. Nick was passed out on the floor in the corner, but there was a girl sitting next to him, trying to wake him up. Ethan also had a girl sitting next to him on his bed. I was surprised that it wasn’t the girl who’d been there earlier that week. I determined then that Ethan was a slut.

Brad had been sitting in the other chair and stood up when he saw me. He came over and gave me a hug. He was wearing fresh clothes, and his hair was damp. He’d showered since I’d seen him, and he smelled fresh and clean. He’d already been drinking, and he had a bottle of rum in his hand. He draped an arm over my shoulders. “We’re getting ready to play some quarters. I know you don’t drink, but will you hang with me?”

“Yeah.”

In between slamming shots, Brad asked me questions about the show, not just if I liked it, but he asked technical questions about particular elements, like how his guitar sounded during certain spots, how his and Ethan styles melded, how they looked onstage. I answered as best as I could, but his arm over my shoulder was quite distracting.

And then, when Ethan started getting more physical with his date, I felt more uncomfortable. Brad was pretty drunk by that point, but he was still sharp. “Wanna get out of here?”

I nodded, and we slipped out of the room. At that point, I wasn’t sure if anyone even noticed we were leaving. I sensed it was getting ready to turn into an orgy, the way people had started groping each other.

Brad moved his arm to around my waist. “Where are we going?”

“Let’s go to my room.” He smiled.

Once we were out in the hall, he said, “So…that shithead Ethan’s not even writing his own lyrics anymore? That right?”

I nodded. “Yeah…a lot of those words were mine.” I worked up the courage to reciprocate by putting my arm around his waist as well. Smooth Brad didn’t say a word and just kept talking.

“Goddamn, girl. Pretty impressive. That one song—‘Metal Forever.’ You write that?”

“Yeah…and ‘Coming Down,’ ‘Intended Punishment,’ and ‘Fates Aligned.’ Also, the basis for ‘Scythe’ was one of my poems too.”

“No shit.” We walked in silence for a while and passed the place in the walkway where Charlotte attacked me. I forced myself to look away from that spot on the polished floor. “Maybe we need to hire you as our full-time songwriter.”

I started laughing. “I just like writing.”

“I’m not f*ckin’ with you, Val. You’re writing shit the likes of which we’ve never seen.” I looked down at the ground and leaned my head into him. I didn’t like talking about myself like that. We walked up the stairs and then reached my floor and started walking down the hall toward my room. He said, “Zane told me about some fight you got into. Your ex-roommate just tried to beat hell out of you?”

“Something like that.”

I unlocked the door to my room and turned on the light. He closed the door behind him and looked around our rather unimpressive room and smiled. He didn’t let me get far. He slid a thumb across my forehead. “I’m glad she didn’t leave any scars on that pretty little head of yours.”

I grinned. “Yeah. And I wouldn’t want to have to sue her ass.” He started laughing…hard. Oh, shit. He’d had a lot to drink—rum, straight out of the bottle, and it was showing. “Come on in.” I walked back to the door and locked it. When I turned around, Brad was starting to sit on Jennifer’s bed. “No, not there. The other bed.”