Page 3 of Our Deceptive Heat

“Lia!” he says and looks at me in concern. “What have you done?”

She giggles hysterically as fireworks start going off all around the Mirakill Mansion.

It is pretty, I will give her that, and it is nice hearing those big bikers swear.

“Hello?” I groan intomy phone, barely awake enough to even register I’m up and answering a call. What bloody time is it?

“Hello, Ryn?”

I hesitate, my whole body coming online. I know that voice. Oh, hell, it’s happening. After weeks and weeks of silence, it’s really happening. “Who is this?”

“This is Tyr from Pack Fate.”

I sit up so fast my head spins. I gasp, clutching at my quilt. “Fate’s Choice?”

“Yes.”

Calm down, Ryn. Be cool. You need this too much to fuck it up. I am a bad ass song writer.

“Wow, I wasn’t sure you were going to call.”

“I wasn’t sure I was going to call, but Locke Raines told me that you wrote one of their songs.”

Aww, bless your big beautiful heart, Locke. He went the extra mile for me. I’ll find a way to pay him back one day.

“I did.”

“It's an incredible song. An absolutely amazing song. We want you to come and make a song like that with us. No, we need you to do that. The band’s future is on the line, Beta Raines, and only you can save us.”

I hold my breath so I don’t scream and embarrass myself. “I’ll send you my contract to look over.”

“I don’t need to look it over. I’ll sign whatever you want.”

I’m taken aback for a moment, and then my nerves burst inside me like those fizzy candies.

“Okay, when would you like to meet up?”

“We’ve got a tour scheduled, but we'll be back in three months.”

Three months. Oh, god, this is really happening. “Okay, Tyr, I’m really looking forward to working with you. I think we’re going to do amazing things. When you’re back, call me. I’ll come to you.”

Tyr murmurs a goodbye and hangs up.

I stare at my phone. Did that really happen? Giddy excitement bursts through my veins. I jump out of bed and let out a squeal.

Fate’s Choice! I did a thorough analysis on them; they have so much potential. I know exactly what kind of songs I want to create for them.

This is going to be amazing.

I spin around and then race out of my room, pausing only when I see the light on. My stomach flips violently, and I forget all about Fate’s Choice.

A moment later, I hear my mother’s strident voice. She sounds drunk. What are they doing here? They seldom come back to this house. My father responds, his voice raised. He sounds angry, which sends an icy shiver through my body, leaving me feeling sick and shaky. My mother screams in anger, and it changes into a vicious wail.

I can guess what they’re fighting about. Any number of my father’s affairs. He flaunts them in front of her carelessly. He honestly just doesn’t care about it hurting her. It’s always the same fight. I don’t understand why they continue this vicious cycle. I don’t understand why they continue to live in pain.

The excitement I’d been feeling changes to fear and a toxic apprehension that twists my insides. I think of Fate’s Choice, trying to recall that happy feeling, but it’s gone. I slip intothe shadows, listening intently. The joy I had in my heart, I bury it deep, focusing only on surviving the next couple of minutes.

Her voice gets louder, more desperate, more whiny. And then I hear a crack. The sound of flesh hitting flesh is a sound you never forget. It’s a sound that haunts my nightmares.

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