Page 17 of Ticket to the Stars: Part One

“Don’t let him get to you. He hates everyone, depending on the hour. He’s been a little… worse since his brother got kicked out, but he understood it was that or lose everything we’ve worked for.”

Oh, great. Deacon sounded like an ass. I couldn’t wait to meet him.

Bishop looked like he wanted to say more. He’d taken his hands out of his pockets and curled them around the wood on the footboard, but in the end, all he said was, “I’ll let you get settled. If you need anything, just let me know. I know this can’t be an easy transition for you.”

What I really wanted to do was ask him if he remembered a girl he used to play with when he was younger, before all this Black Sacrament stuff, but I didn’t. I settled with, “Thank you.” I watched as he left my room, shutting the door behind him.

Man, just when I think it’s going to be hard, a curveball gets thrown at me. I already knew it was going to be difficult, but with the whole Cody-slash-Bishop thing and my stupid attraction to Priest… it was going to be a lot harder than I’d thought.

I unpacked my clothes and what few shoes I brought, and then I showered—before realizing I didn’t have any shampoo or soap. No toothbrush, either. I’d have to talk to Ramona in the morning. I guess a little shopping trip was in order.

By the time I crawled into bed, it was late. Late, and I hadn’t eaten all day. The funny thing was, thanks to my nerves, I wasn’t even hungry.

I couldn’t sleep. I checked my phone, finding that both my mom and Alexa had sent multiple messages. I thought about responding to them, but since it was so late, I didn’t want my mom to think anything was wrong. I’d text them both back first thing in the morning.

Tossing and turning proved fruitless, so I tried to turn the TV on for some background noise. The TV put me to sleep like nothing else could.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t get the damned thing to work.

My mind recalled the giant TV in the living room area. Mentally, I added fixing my TV to the list of things to do tomorrow, and then I crawled out of bed. I took one of my fuzzy blankets with me, dragging it across the floor as I headed toward my door. Out in the hall, I was greeted by darkness.

I tiptoed down the hall, passing the guys’ rooms. One of them hung open—I assumed Deacon’s room, which meant he hadn’t come back.

What would we do if he never came back? If he abandoned the band completely? I didn’t think Ramona was equipped to deal with that situation. None of us were.

I made it to the living room, the area a little more lit-up thanks to the city lights outside. Making my way to the nearest couch, I fumbled for the remote in the darkness, and once the TV was on, I turned the volume down low.

Every single app was installed on this TV, so I found my favorite old sitcom and started it from the beginning.

It was like magic, I swear. Just like that, I was out like a light, and as I drifted off to sleep, the last thing on my mind was my attraction to Priest, the fact that Bishop didn’t recognize me, and the way Deacon hated me so much he didn’t even want to come home to meet me.

Chapter Nine – Deacon

Ramona was going to kill me, but you know what? I didn’t fucking care. She could blow up my phone all she wanted; I was a master at ignoring her calls and her texts. I didn’t need her telling me what time to be home so I could meet our newest member.

Fuck that. Fuck that and fuck her and fuck this Angel chick. Fuck ‘em all.

It was well after two in the morning when I finally waltzed through the front door of the Redborne Hotel, and another ten long minutes before I was walking down the hallway to our newest place. I’d gone out to the bars, done some drinking while seething and fuming. I wasn’t drunk, more buzzed, but I was starving.

I pushed into the suite, finding all the lights were off, save for the big TV in the living area. I flicked on the kitchen lights, squinting a little, and headed straight for the refrigerator. I checked the freezer for something I could cook in the microwave and found a Hot Pocket.

After putting it into the microwave, I got a plate out and set it on the counter. Some stupid show about a bunch of dorky scientists was on the TV—I had no fucking clue who’d decided to leave that on—but no fucking way would I ever watch that, so I strolled over to the living room in search of the remote to shut it off.

My plan was to eat and then go to sleep, but I froze the moment I saw the girl fast asleep on the couch.

It was her. Our newest member, the one replacing my brother. Angel.

The only part of her I could see was her face; the rest was buried underneath a pink fuzzy blanket. She lay on her side, so I could only see half her face. I inched closer to get a better look. Her hair was a bright, pure white, splayed around her head like a halo. Her lips were full, parted as she slept, her breathing even. The half of her face I could see held not a single pimple, scar, or blemish.

She was pretty, I’d give her that, but being pretty didn’t mean shit. Hopefully soon she’d realize that and go the fuck home—

I was damn near leaning over her now, and I must’ve been louder than I thought, because the girl turned to lay on her back, her eyes opening into slits. She spotted me instantly, even in her half-asleep state.

I didn’t have the chance to pull back. The girl reacted instantly: she screamed and punched me.

Yeah, she actuallypunchedme.

Her fist connected with my jaw, and I stumbled back, holding onto it as a blast of sudden pain hit me. “Fuck,” I hissed, glaring at her, watching as she sat up and pulled the blanket over her body as if it was some kind of shield. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I narrowed my eyes at her, feeling my blood pressure rising.

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