“Big.”

“We won’t have time for that before you leave.”

“I know. I just want you to draw it and get the outline done.”

“Talk to me.”

I had been thinking about it since the studio got trashed, since Ayden had pulled out my heart and tossed it away. I wanted something that captured the way music exploded out of me, the way the fire flowed in and out of me with the words when I was onstage.

“I want an old-school microphone broken, like split open, with a bunch of fire spilling out of it. It needs to look shattered and rough, not old-school or traditional.”

I could hear him scratching stuff down on paper as I talked.

“The fire needs to be hot and out of control and I don’t care how big you make it. My whole back is open, so you have whatever space you need.”

He whistled between his teeth.

“All right. I’ll get something sketched up and text it to you. If you like it, stop by around five.”

“Don’t worry about the text, just draw it and let’s go. Come on, dude, you know me; this tattoo is all about me and my music. I know you got it.”

“You can be totally insane, you know that, right?”

It was funny because for the first time in a long time, I was feeling like I had things figured out and insanity played no part in it.

“Don’t they say all great art comes from suffering or madness?”

He laughed. “I think you have both of those covered. I’ll see you later.”

I had avoided going to the house during the day, on the off chance I would run into Ayden, but I didn’t want to be in court clothes anymore, so I decided to risk it. I swore out loud when I saw her Jeep was still parked in the driveway. I locked my jaw and decided I was grown-up enough to handle a run-in with her, even if looking at her made all my exposed parts hurt.

I pulled the front door open and stopped dead in my tracks. Clearly she had just gotten back from a run, because she was in those stretchy black pants that made her legs look like something out of a wet dream, and a sports bra and nothing else. That was entirely too much skin, and too much Ayden for me to deal with in my current state of mind, so I was just going to slide past her, and totally pretend like I didn’t even see her in all her too-hot-for-my-own-good glory. Apparently she had other ideas, because she put down her water bottle and leaned back against the sofa to stare at me.

“How was court?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask how she knew where I had been, but then I remembered the fancy duds and the fact that Cora had the biggest mouth ever. I shrugged out of my leather jacket and tossed it next to her, and counted backward from ten until I felt like I could talk to her. I wanted to interact with her without spilling and choking on all the bitterness I struggled with every day.

“It went fine.”

I saw her look away. Clearly she was as uncomfortable as I was.

“That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

I let out a bitter laugh and shoved angry hands through my hair.

“Yeah, it’s every kid’s dream to send his dad to jail because he ripped them off and tried to screw them out of a chance-of-a-lifetime opportunity.” The sarcasm was like a blade that sliced through the discomfort between us.

She cleared her throat and pushed up off the couch, crossing her arms over breasts that I would dream about until I died.

“You deserve to be happy, Jet. You deserve to take care of yourself for once.”

“Yeah, I guess.” I would much rather have her take care of me, much rather take care of her, but since that wasn’t an option anymore, I guess taking care of myself was the only choice left.

I was going to head to my room, so I started unbuttoning my shirt. Those eyes of hers were sharp and followed my every move. Her phone rang from the kitchen table and I moved to toss it to her. Everything inside me went cold and still when I saw the name on the caller ID. Sweater Vest. Goddamn Sweater Vest was calling her and I was going to incinerate the whole planet with a single thought. Without a word I handed the device to her and went to storm past her. I stopped when her hand fell on my shoulder. Those gilded eyes glowed at me with an emotion I couldn’t identify, but I was so tired of this girl twisting me up and letting me go. I couldn’t just spin out of control anymore. Being dizzy was only fun for a second.

“It isn’t what you think, Jet. None of this is what you think it is.”

Her voice quivered a little and I wanted to care, wanted to kiss her and take her to bed. I wanted to sing to her, wanted to beg her to come on tour with me, wanted to put a ring on her finger and ask her to be mine forever. Unfortunately, all I could do was shrug her off and narrow my eyes at her.

“I try not to think about it at all, Ayd.”

I heard her gasp but I just kept moving to my room. I didn’t want to hear anything she had to say to the idiot in argyle, so I slammed the bedroom door and pulled the clothes that were suffocating me off, all the while wishing I could pull the emotion she had me tangled in off as easily.

I turned on Venom as loud as it would go, to dissuade her if she tried to follow me and talk. The music was so loud it made even my head hurt, but it distracted me long enough that I got a few last-minute things done for the tour, and set in place a few details I had hanging with the recording for Black Market Alphas.

Really, helping start-up bands, getting new bands out into the world for other people to hear, made me happier than anything else at the moment. There was just so much good music out there that no one ever got a chance to hear, because they never made it big, never made it to the radio or on one of the big tours. It was a shame, and any part that I could play in changing that gave me more pride than anything that I produced for myself did.

When I left to head to the tattoo shop, there was no sign of Ayden and I didn’t know if that made me feel better or worse. I chose not to think about it too hard and headed downtown. I hated to leave the car parked on Colfax, so I went farther down where Nash and Rule lived in a converted Victorian and parked there. It took me a few minutes to walk back up to the shop, and even though I was a few minutes late, Rowdy was still working on a girl who barely looked sixteen.

Cora rolled her eyes and told me that the girl had been late and she was proving to have a low pain tolerance, so that my boy was struggling with it. I told her I would wait, but Rule came walking out of the back frowning at his phone as asked me if I had a minute. I wasn’t really in the mood to have him bust my balls, but the shop wasn’t that big, so I didn’t really have a choice. I nodded a greeting at Nash, who watched us walk out the front door with a frown. He was working on something intricate on a guy’s calf, though, so he didn’t say anything or make any move other than the frown.

Rule muttered something at the screen of the phone and tucked it into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Rome is headed home for good in a few months.”

I wasn’t expecting that, so I wasn’t sure what to say. Rule’s older brother was cool, and a total badass, take-no-shit kind of guy, and I liked him a lot. I knew there was some tension there with the family, and the fact that Rule’s twin brother—who was no longer living—had managed to take a pretty big secret to the grave with him.

“That’s cool.”

“It would be, if he would stop being an asshole. I want him to take over the lease on the Victorian when he gets back, so he doesn’t have to worry about trying to figure out where he’s going. I know he won’t go home right now. He’s still not talking to the folks.”

I rubbed my hand across the back of my neck and wondered why he wanted to talk about this away from everyone else.

“If he moves into the Victorian, where are you and Shaw going to go?”