Page 28 of Hope & Harmony

That shattered when his demons won out, taking him from us, fracturing this group in a way we couldn’t seem to recover from.

Now, I felt the familiarity of the bass guitar vibrating through me again. The notes ofScotch Tape Holethrobbing against my chest, the deep chord tingling my skin gutted me. As if I looked up, Ziggy would be there.

It was not Ziggy who stood next to me, though. It felt wrong. Yet, I couldn’t stop the way my body responded. My gaze was captured by the man who stood in his place. His long hair flipped to one side, his huge physique, his hips curved into the guitar like it was his lover, while his fingers skillfully strummed at the strings. I could sense the passion in every note, the genius in his talent. He moved with certainty, a confidence and ownership of the instrument, a talent very few could challenge. And a promise that his proficiency would go way past playing music.

If rumors were true, his off-stage talent exceeded expectations, with multiple women at a time. At one time, I might have been just another one.

For a moment, I understood as his tune moved up my body, thrumming through my thighs, pulsing similar to a heartbeat. Drix Decker played with a primal passion. He didn’t show much emotion in everyday life, though he laid it all out on stage, giving insight to the raw power behind the man. The command he would have over you if he treated you anything like he did his guitar, just with his fingers alone.

There was no denying the man was sexy as hell. Carnal in a way that drew you to him no matter if you liked his music or if he was your type. He oozed visceral confidence and pure unadulterated sex. A true rock god. I hated to admit it, butHendrix had the talent to back it up and the looks to drop you to your knees in reverence, which made me despise him more.

But what the fuck? He knew ASL…

I knew he didn’t when I first met him. When he found out I was deaf, his reaction was callous, cutting me deeply. Yet now, he signed to me so fluently that I would think he had signed all his life. When did he learn it? Why?

Drix finished his riff, eyes on me, my own beat syncing as if his gaze kept me in a trance. His boot tapped at the floor, and I picked up on the rhythm, counting the beats, the change in tempo. He strummed at his guitar. His chin lifted before it dipped to me, his finger raised from the strings pointing at me, telling me it was time for my solo.

It was similar to what Ziggy used to do for me. It took us months to reach a place where our signals and prompts were second nature. How did Drix pick it up so quickly?

A burning rage seized my chest as my arms pounded down, my bare feet hearing the music, crashing the ride, my right foot hitting the bass drum. We shouldn’t have this kind of rapport so soon. It felt like a slap in the face to how hard Ziggy and I worked to create the exchange between us.

He shouldn’t have known those signals. It felt intimate and way too comfortable, as if we had been doing this for years together when he was nothing but an outsider. One who none of us would let into the band, nor did I believe he truly wanted to be. Why was he here and not with Velvet Kings? Was this some trick?

Ames cupped the microphone as the song ended, crooning out the final heartbreaking lyrics. It was a song I had written right after Ziggy’s death. The song mirrored what I felt, the fake smile I had to put on, pretending my world wasn’t falling apart.

Emmit jumped back on stage, his hands clapping together in excitement. “Holy shit!” He purposely faced me so I could see him. “That was the fucking best I’ve ever heard you guys play!”

The insinuation cut went deep: we never played this well with Ziggy.

A scowl puckered my mouth, my aggravation shooting over at the man a few feet from me, then to the men I considered brothers.

Tobias and Geo had smiles on their faces, their heads bobbing in agreement. I could tell Ames was fighting a smile, his mouth thinning. “It was pretty good.” He shrugged one shoulder. “But can you keep up withTheDevil Takes Me?” Another hit we had with complex cadences and one of the toughest bass riffs.

Drix’s fingers strummed the first cords, a smugness twitching his lips before he let loose.

The melody ofThe Devil Takes Mestruck from the soles of my feet to my scalp. I could feel every cord, taking me with him through the highs, touching the sky, to the lows, where the devil awaited. Air caught in my chest, my eyelids wanting to close, wanting to fall into his resonance.

Drix did what very few musicians could—took you to another world. Another dimension.

Music was just another way to tell a story. To capture people and take them on a journey. It was heartbreaking, healing, joyful, and angry. It captured human emotion, no matter what creed, race, or sex you were. Music could unite with a note or rally with a war cry.

Music didn’t discriminate. It just found another way to seduce and take hold of your soul.

It was why even those of us who couldn’t hear the lyrics still found a home within the beats and rhythms. We heardit differently than others, but because other senses were more developed, I think we felt it even deeper.

Drix’s fingers skillfully thrummed the song's bridge, running a shiver up my spine. His notes hit deeper, more soulful than anyone I’d ever heard before. Even more than Ziggy, as if Drix bargained with the devil to take his soul in exchange for otherworldly talent.

His amber irises lifted to me, his chin dipping twice, already knowing how to cue me in to start playing with him. Twirling my sticks, my arms moved automatically while my brain told me to flip him off. The pull to play always overpowered my logic. I jumped in on the bridge, our beats syncing instantly. His gaze stayed on me as we finished the last crescendo, making me feel like we were the only ones on earth, a connection only music could build.

The song came to an end, but his focus stayed completely on me, a smile hinting at his mouth, our gazes locked, the air hitching in my lungs, fluttering in my stomach.

“Fuck man, you guys were insane!” Tobias peered between us in awe. “Never heard that take on that song, and never heard Echo play that way either.” He stepped toward him, breaking our connection and forcing the air back into my lungs, jolting me back to reality.

Did I just get butterflies? What the hell was wrong with me? Ihatedhim.

But when he looked at me, it felt magical. Like no one else could touch our level.

Grow up, Echo, you’re not seventeen anymore.

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