Page 33 of Hollow Heart

I stare at her text as I lean against my kitchen counter.

Hollow Pointe’s “Loose Canon” echoes down the hall as a voice I don’t recognize as Issax wafts through the chill air.

You’re a loose canon, and baby, I’m the fuse

You’re a match, and baby, I just want to be used

Go off the rails and explode like a cherry bomb

I’m a loose cannon, baby, and you’re a loaded gun.

The words are heavy, thick with a growl that makes my cock twitch. The voice is darker, smoother than Issax. Must be a feature of some up and comer who never made it big.

Samson twists his furry body around my legs as I stare at the screen, at Jinger’s photo that accompanies her text.

She gazes up at me from beneath thick lashes, pouting her cherry-glossed lips.

Maybe if I wasn’t solely into dudes, and she wasn’t constantly trying to lie to herself about her own sexuality, it could have worked out between us.

For a sliver of a moment, I want to sayyes.

Yes, let’s fuck shit up and cause a riot. Let’s drink until we can’t remember who the fuck we are, until we forget who we’resupposedto be.

But Duncan’s words reverberate in my psyche, like a spell.

You want to stop feeling like a piece of shit? Stop treating yourself like a piece of shit.

Samson meows as he moves away, leaving me to my devices.

I swipe off of my messages, opting instead, for take out.

It’s not like anythinggoodhappens when Drunk Spice and I are together, anyway.

I’m sure if I give it five minutes, she’ll be on to some other asshole.

Instead, I turn off the record, order some sushi from Sake Star, and turn on my TV.

The sun setsthrough my floor to ceiling windows, bathing my living room in shades of ochre and red as I curl up on my couch. Samson lounges on the coffee table, barely even inches away from my box of sushi, as if one distraction will land him some salmon.

I grab my box, sinking back into my cushions as I browse the programs, when I come across aBehind The Musicspecial on fuckingHollow Pointe.

Intrigued, I can’t help but put it on.

Samson mewls in protest as I stuff some salmon sashimi in my mouth.

When the band comes on screen, I almost have to chuckle.

Isaax and his long, silky black hair amid his glam makeup make him look like some cross between Tommy Lee and a lost member of KISS. But I guess he was going for a birds of prey schtick with all the black and feathers.

The host drones on about howHollow Pointewas discovered on the strip, and signed a record deal when the members were only sixteen and seventeen.

I blink, stunned as the camera pans to a young, seventeen year old Duncan McKay.

Black eyeliner lines his chocolate eyes, accenting rosy, contoured cheeks. His face is clean-shaven, all the angles sharp andpronounced from the glitter on his face, against his shaggy black and red, teased hair. His arms are leaner, but those dreamy biceps are still on display.

Like Issax and the rest of the band, he’s dolled up in tight black leather pants and a similar black leather vest.

With the eyeliner, his rosy blush, glitter, and wait... is that alip ring?

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