Page 91 of Hollow Heart

Time off isn’t something I’m used to.

But Lou insisted we all break for a couple days and come back to the studio refreshed for one more rehearsal, then next week is all sound checks and preparation for the kickoff show.

It’s as Lou says, “The calm before the storm.”

Samson meows in happiness, and I grin. “You’re absolutely right, Samson. I should decorate the place more. I think I’ll do that. Haven’t been shopping in a while, and it is good for the soul.”

Samson licks his food, which is as good a confirmation as any, and I make the split decision. I grab my keys, head for my bike, and take off for some retail rewards.

After all, I think I deserve some new shiny things.

I anxiously awaitmy venti mocha with an extra shot of espresso, feeling a little better about my stylish new purchases.

Especially, the coffin-shaped pet bed and the matching coffin cat tower I bought for Samson while we tour.

Okay, and maybe I picked up some things for myself, too, of course.

And maybe I even picked up some more pieces to add to Duncan’s capsule wardrobe.

Including a weathered and distressed Slayer shirt and some vintage acid wash jeans I know he’ll look fucking amazing in.

The barista calls my order out, and I make my way with all my bags in tow to grab the large cup of God’s nectar, when a voice stops me dead in my tracks.

“Well, would you look at that...”

I tighten my fingers around the cardboard barrier as I contemplate whether I should turn around or not.

I could just ignore my former not-boyfriend, walk away like he is truly the scum on the bottom of my shoe.

And in all honesty, that is what Ishoulddo.

But Sullivan Reign’s voice is like some twisted form of hypnosis.

I couldn’t ignore it, even if I wanted to.

I turn to see him standing there in his tight jeans and his stupid Balenciaga shirt that doesn’t look as expensive as he thinks it does.

“Sully,” I murmur, and I take a sip of my drink, not moving from my spot.

Sully has the audacity to smirk at me, exposing his diamond-encrusted canine.

“I almost thought you were a fucking mirage. You never leave the dungeon during the day.”

I shrug as he approaches me. “Last I checked, I didn’t have to run my schedule by you. Seeing as you ain’t in the fucking band anymore.”

He stops inches away from me, glancing at the baristas then back at me.

He scoffs, chuckling as if he truly finds this interaction funny.

“Something you want, Sullivan?” I bite as I watch him lick his lips.

“An apology would be nice. Seeing as you decided to air our fucking dirty laundry to everyone within a five mile radius the other night. My manager has had a field day with trying to squelch those nasty rumors.”

An apology?

From me?

This asshole has lost his damn mind!

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