Page 7 of Broken Lines

“Your mom; your story,” he shrugs. “You’re hired. Effective immediately.”

My heart thuds in my ears.

“Welcome to Ignition Magazine, Ms. Blue.”

I blink, slowly shaking my head as I try and fight through the floating feeling humming in my chest.

“Look, Mr.—Chuck. You should know that my mom is full of shit—”

“Better hope she’s not with this.”

He glares at me.

“I’ll be blunt. I don’t need another puff writer hacking up stories about rap DJs and e-cigarettes, or Madonna, or anything like that. So, if you’re not up for this, there’s the fucking door, kid. But if youdowant this?”

He raps his knuckles on the edge of the desk again.

“Opportunity knocks.”

I swallow, nodding slowly.

“A bit of advice?” Chuck grunts.

I raise my gaze to his.

“If you do find him—Havoc, that is—” he frowns. “Are you a fan?”

“Of his?”

“Or of Velvet Guillotine.”

My face heats. “Yeah, ahugeone. I mean, I don’t know if you know this, but Will Cates actually lived with my mom and I—”

“Yeah, great, I don’t give a fuck.” Chuck sighs. “But Havoc will. I mean, if he’s even alive, which is still fifty-fifty odds, if you ask me.”

He frowns.

“What I’m saying, Mel, is if youdofind this prick? Don’t mention being a fan. You don’tevermention being a fan to these vampires.”

My brow furrows.

“Vampires?”

“Rock stars. Movie stars. Celebrities.” Chuck lifts a shoulder. “As much as every publication on earth, us included, likes to pretend they’re deities to be worshiped? Spoiler, they’re not. But they’re not ‘just like us’, either. They take and they take—like bloodsucking vampires. They’re twisted, and they’re all—and I do meanall—fucked up. It’s the only way a person can possibly sustain being at the top like that and being worshiped by mere mortals like us on a daily basis. You get me?”

I smile wryly. “I’ve been around a fair number of famous musicians, Mr. Garver. I don’t get starstruck.”

He grins.

“Good. But I need you to do more than not ask for a goddamn autograph. I need you to not give him a fucking inch. If you find him, that is. Because these rock guys are all the same, and they’reallused to the world getting down on their fucking knees and saying ‘please’.”

He lifts a stern brow.

“Don’t do that, by the way.”

My face burns as I quickly shake my head.

“Of course not.”

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