Page 174 of Deliverance

Yuri nods and we walk over. “Would you like to test drive it?” He opens the door for me, but I circle it first, my fingers running over the smooth, richly colored surface, greeting it.

Something inside my chest tugs.

“No,” I whisper, mostly to myself. “I don’t need to test drive her. She isn’t for me.” Then I flick my gaze to the salesman and ask, “What’s your return policy?”

Yuri rattles off the days and the mileage.

“Let’s set it up, man. We’ll just bring it back and exchange it for something else if my girlfriend doesn’t like it.”

Two days after my impromptu purchase, we’re all gathered in a recording studio in North Hollywood—the same one we met at for the very first time months ago, which feels more like years at this point.

As always, Luca’s hunched over the mixing console behind the glass, occasionally running a palm over his braided beard. Julian’s hovering in the corner, talking to Toby’s guitar tech. Jacob’s been quiet all morning, which is undeniably strange. He’s usually the loudest of the bunch. Stevie’s on the phone, engaging with—judging by his grin—a woman in a heavy text messaging battle, which prompts me to tell him to take it easy on those fingers because he still needs them to record the guitar solo duet he and Toby have been rehearsing all week.

Leo’s on edge.

That’s nothing new, because I already know the dude is as jumpy as a frog, but today, he seems different. Something about him rubs me and everyone else the wrong way.

His eyes, wide and wandering, have that odd look as if he’s not mentally present, as if he’s still someplace else and has no plan on returning.

I’m convinced that he’s rolling again, but I’m afraid to bring it up for a multitude of reasons, one being, Leo’s a fragile fucker.

We spend the first half of the day working on the rhythm section, then guitars. Luca’s already prepared a whole bunch of scratch tracks, so we’re halfway there. This one isn’t covered by the label since the album production went way over budget when Leo didn’t deliver the last two songs on time. Red Eye Records only agreed to pay for three extra studio days. How many tracks the band can finish isn’t their problem.

Apparently, the suits washed their hands of the matter and stuck the new Bleeding Faith album into theirfailures-of-the-yearpile before they even heard the mastered version.

We take a lunch break and reconvene in the late afternoon, moving on to the vocals.

Contrary to my fears, Leo’s on fire. He sings like it’s his last day on earth, giving it his all. My entire back is riddled with goosebumps by the end of the first take.

Luca’s gaze ping-pongs between him and the control board as he rubs the tip of his nose with his knuckles.

Toby’s propped against the wall, arms crossed on his chest. The tension seems to have grown to something solid, something I could almost touch.

After three back-to-back takes, Leo pulls off his headphones and says, “I need a breather.” He steps out of the booth, crosses the room, and walks out without another word.

I stare at his lead guitarist from my spot on the couch, hoping he’s got some clue about what bit Propaganda in the ass this time, but his expression is a graniteseen-that-beforemask.

Jacob continues to munch on his slice of pizza he snatched from the lounge.

Stevie’s the only one who seems to be bothered by his lead singer’s behavior. Surprise settles onto his face and he glares at Toby for some answers.

The answers never come.

As a matter of fact, no one speaks up, period.

“Great,” I mutter, fishing my phone from my pocket to check if there are any messages from Drew. She’s supposed to come over to my place this Saturday but apparently, Tina already set her up for a photoshoot, which has screwed up all our weekend plans.

A shiver snakes down my spine.

I’ve never cared about distance before. Life on the road taught me many things, not getting too attached to the comforts of my own bed and the same woman waiting for me there included.

But with Drew, everything’s different. Upside down. The upcoming separation her East Coast trip will create scares me shitless. I want to spend every waking and sleeping second with her and all these responsibilities we both face right now are the interruptions I hate.

Avery did me a solid when I called him the other day out of the blue and asked to park the brand new Lexus in his garage until Valentine’s Day.

“I hear wedding bells.” He laughed at me over the phone.

I ignored the comment. Last time someone mentioned marriage, things got out of control.

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