URGENT (Book 2 of the Soundcrush Series)

Chapter 18: Frontmen Worry About Their Chi

Now that Madam is Official...I wonder what Leed has to say about that? Let's find out?

Leed

My phone plays Dusty Springfield and I groan. Not because I don't dig a little Dusty, but whenever the song "Son of a Preacherman," plays, it means Adam is calling me. I give everybody in SCIC their own ringtone. It helps me determine how important it is to interrupt what I'm doing when I get a call.

Adam is a man of few words. He never calls when he can text. If he's calling, it's shit-sure important and hardly ever good news.

Dammit. What did I say about this tour? UNFUN.

Coitus-interruptus is THE MOST UNFUN.

"Sorry, Angel, gotta take that." I pull out, and pat Sophie on the butt. Sophie's sounds go from sexy-kitten to screechy-siren.

She turns around and glares at me. "Are  you fucking serious, asshole?"

"Come on, Soph, you got your money's worth. I haven't had a minute's sleep. You came like ten times," I laugh at her, but really I'm questioning why I even fuck with her. She has the looks of a divine being, and the sex-drive of a goddess, but she is so mean. I swear sometimes when I'm giving it to her, I get this blurry disoriented moment of fear, and I see horns on her head.

But that's probably just the drugs.

Sophie's grabbing clothes and slamming doors now, so I slide out on the balcony as I slide my screen to accept Adam's call.

"Better be good. I was just inside heavenly pu—"

"Ashlynn got busted up in a car accident last night."

At Adam's word's, a strange burning sensation prickles through me. Like there's fire in my veins. I've never felt anything like that before—not even on stage—so I just sort of...stand there, following the stinging path of sensation. It started in my throat chakra and spread to my chest and brain all at once. Now, its radiating down my arms. I grip the balcony railing, because my burning fingers need something to do.

"Leed! What the fuck, man? Are you even listening?"

"Sorry," I let go of the railing and take a cleansing breath. The burning fades. Must be the damn Molly. "I told you I was fucking when you called, didn't I? I can't really listen, until my dick lets me..."

Shouts, whistles and pointing pedestrians from the street below make me realize I'm naked on the balcony. I give  a peace sign and stroll back in. At least the minor embarrassment of my little peep show is a cockshock. Which is actually a relief to me, but an irritation to Sophie. She rolls her eyes at my deflating member as she snatches up her sandals and heads for the door.

"Good times til it wasn't, Angel. See ya around," I call after her.

I hope not. Running into my ex from LA at an out-of-town club seemed like fate giving me the perfect lay-up, but really...now I remember why I broke it off with her.

I'm so over mean girls.

"We need you down here in my suite, man," Adam is saying calmly. "Shit is going down. Dawes just called me. Kat's parents are downstairs with a cop giving the hotel management grief. They think Kat was...coerced into coming on the road with Trace or something. And according to Ben, Kat is practically catatonic from druggin' and drinkin' hard last night, and Trace isn't here to answer for this—he left last night and is already with Ash at the hospital in Tennessee...and Kat knows that Ashlynn and Trace are married, and—then there's the minor issue that we have a show tonight and our guitarist is in another state..." Adam's laundry list of headaches is endless.