Hot Ticket
Page 28
Chapter 12
Jace opened his apartment door and tossed his duffel bag on the floor. He set his bass guitar down gently beside it. “Hi, honey, I’m home.” His voice echoed through the sparsely furnished one-bedroom apartment. He hung his keys on their hook and closed the door.
“Brroowww rrrown rrown rrrown rown.” Brownie, a black tuxedo cat with white paws and a large, white inverted triangle under her chin, trotted in his direction and wrapped her sleek body around his boot. Round and round his ankle she went, still meow-purring in her unusual fashion.
He lifted her and snuggled her against his chest, her front paws resting on his shoulder. Her soft tail flicked against his arm repeatedly.
“Did you miss me?”
She rubbed her face against his jaw and batted at his small hoop earring with one paw.
“I missed you too. Tony been feeding you properly?”
“Brrroowww rrrowwwn.” He carried her toward the kitchen, and she switched from her unusual meow to purr in earnest.
Jace opened a cabinet and found the cat food stash had dwindled significantly in his absence, so Tony had been feeding her regularly. And from the lack of bad odor in the room, he’d also been cleaning her litter box like he was supposed to. A good, trustworthy kid. Jace would give him a big bonus for taking care of his girl in his extended absence.
Jace set Brownie on the kitchen counter and pulled out several cans of food, reading the contents to her as he set them one at a time in a row in front of her.
“So what will it be?”
She put a definitive paw on the top of one can.
“Salmon?”
“Brrrooowww rrrowwwn.”
“All right. Fish breath it is. But if you think I’m going to let you lick my chin later, you’re in for a surprise.”
While he opened the can, she jumped off the counter and rubbed round and round his ankle again. He set her saucer of food on the floor, gave her a good scratch behind one ear, and went to unpack.
Most of the clothes in his bag were dirty. He sorted them into piles to take to the laundry room in the basement later. Laundry wasn’t his favorite chore, but unlike the rest of his bandmates, he wasn’t a slob. He just pretended to be messy in order to fit in better. He also pretended that he couldn’t cook and that he didn’t clean. None of them knew that he had a cat or that he talked to her as if she were a person. He was very careful to disguise himself around the guys. To be who they expected him to be, not who he really was.
He removed his most treasured possession from the deep recesses of his bag and set it on the two pedestals on the center shelf of his bookcase. He ran one finger over the drumstick with a slight smile on his lips. This slender piece of wood had changed his entire life, and the man who had given it to him, completely by chance nine years before, had no idea the impact he’d had on an abused and neglected kid headed down a path of self-destruction. Jace had no doubt that Eric Sticks had saved his life. In a different way than he’d saved Trey’s life, but no less important in the outcome. Jace turned on the stereo and sank into the sofa that was covered with a sheet to hide the rips and stains in the upholstery. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t get new furniture. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford it, but this was enough for him. He didn’t need much—didn’t want much. An image of Aggie’s lovely face, her ruby red lips curled in a sexy smile, settled in his thoughts.
Brownie joined him on the sofa and helped herself to his lap while she licked her paws and rubbed them over her face.
“I met a girl.”
Brownie paused and stared at him with amber eyes.
He chuckled. “What’s that look for?” Sometimes he thought she understood what he was saying. “Don’t worry. I won’t let myself get too attached to her.” Though he was considering calling Aggie right now. She was probably asleep. He shouldn’t bother her. Maybe he should text her. She’d sent him a picture of her left nipple earlier that day and typed that she wished his tongue was on it at that moment. Oh yes. She had his full attention, even without the sexy little text messages. “I think I’ll head to the gym,” he told his cat. “Get in a good workout. Box a few rounds.”
“Browww wwowwn.” The cat looked at him morosely.
“All right, I’ll work out here instead.” He pulled off his shirt on his way to his tiny bedroom. He’d installed a bar in the doorway and used it now to do pull-ups.
After he’d completed a few dozen reps, Brownie lay down on the floor and batted at Jace’s toes every time they came in reach. Jace slid his feet between the bar and the upper doorsill and switched to doing inverted sit-ups. Brownie wiggled her butt, leaped into the air, and attacked his head repeatedly. After one too many claws to the scalp, he caught her in midair and lifted her to look her in the eye upside down. “Will you knock it off?”
She batted his nose with one paw, careful to keep her claws concealed.
“You’ve been bored, haven’t you? I need to get you a friend. I’ve been on the road too much lately.”
“Browww wwowwn.”
She grabbed his earring with one claw and urged him forward so she could rub her mouth over his jaw.
“Ugh. Fish breath.”
He set her down, grabbed the bar, and released his feet before lowering himself to the floor.
“Let’s jam.” He knew what Brownie was after. His cat loved bass guitar music. For his one feline audience, Jace played Sinners’ entire set list, not the way the original bassist, Jon Mallory, had written it, but the way Jace felt it should be played. He’d never let the guys in the band know he’d rewritten every bass line. They wouldn’t appreciate that kind of creativity. While he played, Brownie watched him, tail flicking earnestly to the beat. Eventually, the neighbor in the apartment below started banging on the ceiling. Jace turned off the amp and put his guitar back in its case. His cell phone beeped. Another text from Aggie. Another picture. Of her pu**y. I’m imagining your c**k inside this, she’d typed. Damn. Was the woman trying to kill him?
Chapter 13
Jace shifted the case holding his bass guitar to his left hand and rang the doorbell. After a moment, Sed opened his front door and beckoned Jace inside. “Eric isn’t here yet. He’s on his way.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” Jace said. He’d been holed up in his apartment for almost three weeks waiting for Trey to get better so they could go back on tour. When Sed had invited him to help work on the new album, Jace had almost pissed himself with excitement.
Jace opened his apartment door and tossed his duffel bag on the floor. He set his bass guitar down gently beside it. “Hi, honey, I’m home.” His voice echoed through the sparsely furnished one-bedroom apartment. He hung his keys on their hook and closed the door.
“Brroowww rrrown rrown rrrown rown.” Brownie, a black tuxedo cat with white paws and a large, white inverted triangle under her chin, trotted in his direction and wrapped her sleek body around his boot. Round and round his ankle she went, still meow-purring in her unusual fashion.
He lifted her and snuggled her against his chest, her front paws resting on his shoulder. Her soft tail flicked against his arm repeatedly.
“Did you miss me?”
She rubbed her face against his jaw and batted at his small hoop earring with one paw.
“I missed you too. Tony been feeding you properly?”
“Brrroowww rrrowwwn.” He carried her toward the kitchen, and she switched from her unusual meow to purr in earnest.
Jace opened a cabinet and found the cat food stash had dwindled significantly in his absence, so Tony had been feeding her regularly. And from the lack of bad odor in the room, he’d also been cleaning her litter box like he was supposed to. A good, trustworthy kid. Jace would give him a big bonus for taking care of his girl in his extended absence.
Jace set Brownie on the kitchen counter and pulled out several cans of food, reading the contents to her as he set them one at a time in a row in front of her.
“So what will it be?”
She put a definitive paw on the top of one can.
“Salmon?”
“Brrrooowww rrrowwwn.”
“All right. Fish breath it is. But if you think I’m going to let you lick my chin later, you’re in for a surprise.”
While he opened the can, she jumped off the counter and rubbed round and round his ankle again. He set her saucer of food on the floor, gave her a good scratch behind one ear, and went to unpack.
Most of the clothes in his bag were dirty. He sorted them into piles to take to the laundry room in the basement later. Laundry wasn’t his favorite chore, but unlike the rest of his bandmates, he wasn’t a slob. He just pretended to be messy in order to fit in better. He also pretended that he couldn’t cook and that he didn’t clean. None of them knew that he had a cat or that he talked to her as if she were a person. He was very careful to disguise himself around the guys. To be who they expected him to be, not who he really was.
He removed his most treasured possession from the deep recesses of his bag and set it on the two pedestals on the center shelf of his bookcase. He ran one finger over the drumstick with a slight smile on his lips. This slender piece of wood had changed his entire life, and the man who had given it to him, completely by chance nine years before, had no idea the impact he’d had on an abused and neglected kid headed down a path of self-destruction. Jace had no doubt that Eric Sticks had saved his life. In a different way than he’d saved Trey’s life, but no less important in the outcome. Jace turned on the stereo and sank into the sofa that was covered with a sheet to hide the rips and stains in the upholstery. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t get new furniture. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford it, but this was enough for him. He didn’t need much—didn’t want much. An image of Aggie’s lovely face, her ruby red lips curled in a sexy smile, settled in his thoughts.
Brownie joined him on the sofa and helped herself to his lap while she licked her paws and rubbed them over her face.
“I met a girl.”
Brownie paused and stared at him with amber eyes.
He chuckled. “What’s that look for?” Sometimes he thought she understood what he was saying. “Don’t worry. I won’t let myself get too attached to her.” Though he was considering calling Aggie right now. She was probably asleep. He shouldn’t bother her. Maybe he should text her. She’d sent him a picture of her left nipple earlier that day and typed that she wished his tongue was on it at that moment. Oh yes. She had his full attention, even without the sexy little text messages. “I think I’ll head to the gym,” he told his cat. “Get in a good workout. Box a few rounds.”
“Browww wwowwn.” The cat looked at him morosely.
“All right, I’ll work out here instead.” He pulled off his shirt on his way to his tiny bedroom. He’d installed a bar in the doorway and used it now to do pull-ups.
After he’d completed a few dozen reps, Brownie lay down on the floor and batted at Jace’s toes every time they came in reach. Jace slid his feet between the bar and the upper doorsill and switched to doing inverted sit-ups. Brownie wiggled her butt, leaped into the air, and attacked his head repeatedly. After one too many claws to the scalp, he caught her in midair and lifted her to look her in the eye upside down. “Will you knock it off?”
She batted his nose with one paw, careful to keep her claws concealed.
“You’ve been bored, haven’t you? I need to get you a friend. I’ve been on the road too much lately.”
“Browww wwowwn.”
She grabbed his earring with one claw and urged him forward so she could rub her mouth over his jaw.
“Ugh. Fish breath.”
He set her down, grabbed the bar, and released his feet before lowering himself to the floor.
“Let’s jam.” He knew what Brownie was after. His cat loved bass guitar music. For his one feline audience, Jace played Sinners’ entire set list, not the way the original bassist, Jon Mallory, had written it, but the way Jace felt it should be played. He’d never let the guys in the band know he’d rewritten every bass line. They wouldn’t appreciate that kind of creativity. While he played, Brownie watched him, tail flicking earnestly to the beat. Eventually, the neighbor in the apartment below started banging on the ceiling. Jace turned off the amp and put his guitar back in its case. His cell phone beeped. Another text from Aggie. Another picture. Of her pu**y. I’m imagining your c**k inside this, she’d typed. Damn. Was the woman trying to kill him?
Chapter 13
Jace shifted the case holding his bass guitar to his left hand and rang the doorbell. After a moment, Sed opened his front door and beckoned Jace inside. “Eric isn’t here yet. He’s on his way.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” Jace said. He’d been holed up in his apartment for almost three weeks waiting for Trey to get better so they could go back on tour. When Sed had invited him to help work on the new album, Jace had almost pissed himself with excitement.
