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Ignite (The Disciples 4)

Page 104

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“In the kitchen, darlin’.” She smiles and my mind instantly hears Antoinette snapping about how she hates being called darlin’. I rub my forehead, craving a cigarette.

“Give me a double Jameson. And tell him Axel’s here to see his old ass.” She grins as she pours way more than a double and leans over to hand it to me.

“That’s on the house.” She knocks on the shiny wood and sashays back to the kitchen. I watch her, trying not to judge, but her legs are too short, her breasts too large.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Fucking Antoinette is what’s wrong with me. I take a deep swig and stand to go out and smoke. I’ll check my messages and text Blade that I might not make it back today. I already filled him in on everything earlier anyway.

I wander out the front door and light up. A couple of girls are smoking also. Both smile and start to whisper. All I want is peace, no drama, no women, just booze and maybe some pool.

I frown at the first message. It’s from Rhys. I push on the voice mail message.

“Brother. Fuck you, man.” I hear him drink from the bottle and continue. I’d love to judge him, but I’m drowning myself with a bottle because of my own shit.

“You send me this… fucking masterpiece and expect me to do it justice?” More mumbling then, “It’s gonna be out, and I gave you credit. It’s the best song I’ve laid down in years, man. ‘Untouched’ is coming.” He slurs some more and an incoming text tells me he sent me a copy of it.

I text Blade before I listen to it. Frankly I forgot I even sent it to Granger with all the shit going on. I’m about ready to play it when Blade calls.

“What?” I snarl, because if he mentions her…

“Where are you?”

“A bar.”

“Axel, don’t be a dick.”

“Christ, I’m at Davey’s.” Taking a drag from the cigarette, I decide to stay here all day and get fucked up. Maybe that can fix the ache in my heart.

“Blade?” The line is dead.

“Perfect.” I snort, causing the girls to think that’s their opportunity to come over.

“You look so familiar,” the brunette says, blowing smoke from the cigarette at me. It’s my biggest pet peeve. I’m a smoker. I love it. But when you’re so rude and fucking self-absorbed that you can’t get your disgusting breath out of my face…

I smile. “Excuse me.”

She looks shocked along with the friend who hides behind her. The way I’m dressed, they have no idea I’m a Disciple. I stare at them and the friend grabs the brunette’s hand and pulls her back inside.

I look at my phone then, curious to see what Granger did with it. He’s the musical genius. I can write the song, but he can lay down the music he hears in his head.

I hit play and his gravelly, soulful voice starts out with, “Fuck you.”

Then a slow keyboard melody builds, and he takes my words and brings them to life.

It’s by far his best in a long while. The Stuffed Muffins have been in disarray, dealing with fame, and putting out some real sellout shit lately. They probably think they can pull it off now because I never would have allowed it.

Actually, I wouldn’t have allowed them to release half the crap they’re successful for let alone play it.

It’s why I left. Being a rock star was not what I wanted. I loved the music, but not the life.

That was all Granger. He was born for it.

It’s why he had to say Fuck you at the beginning. I take a last inhale as I snuff out the cigarette and text to Granger: It’s good.

Granger will understand. He won’t text back. I pocket my phone, hearing it in my head, the words and music a perfect match.

I’m undone by her eyes, her lips, and her smell. She’s all mine.

Untouched.

Touched by me.

Closing my eyes, I lean back on the concrete building. My words tumble out of my lips as I say, “Touched by me.”

I knew it then. It’s why I wrote it. My subconscious needed to say what I couldn’t face: I wrote a love song about my ethereal princess and I sent it to my childhood friend to immortalize her.

A dark shadow falls on me. I open my eyes to Blade standing in front of me, blocking the sun. When I look behind him, I see my family rolling in.

Raising an eyebrow, I say, “Should we tell Davey to call in more help?” I smirk as Edge steps to Blade’s side, fists clenched, his blue eyes dead serious like he’s going to enjoy this.

“All right.” I nod, looking at them. “We’re doing this.” Adrenaline pulses through me and I push myself off the wall. This is exactly what I need.



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