Meet Bri & Luke in Sustain!
I had a simple life.
I worked two jobs, made ends meet, and hung out with my mom and twin
brother. The other part of my life was about avoiding him, but when SWAT raided
my boyfriend’s home, that was the last straw. The boyfriend got tossed and to
help me keep busy, my brother talked me into joining their old band again, but
I had to be honest. It wasn’t a hard sell. Playing drums was in my blood. I
used to be addicted and that craving hadn’t been satisfied in three long years.
The only problem was their lead singer.
It was him.
The drums might not have been the only thing I was addicted to. I think
I was still addicted to him too.
(Bri's pov)
Luke hit a jarring note on
his guitar below, drawing me from the past and back to reality. Seriously. I’d
been ready to take on two thugs beside a dumpster for my stupid-ass cousin, but
this had ice filling my veins.
I rolled my eyes upward.
What was wrong with me?
The melody was addictive. I
felt it reach deep inside me and take root. My breathing wavered as he kept
playing. He moved down a chord, and the sound of it seeped into me, smoothing
out the haunted memories. Then he began singing. His voice was soft and low,
but I could hear it as if I were in the room. He was weaving a spell. It was
like he threw a spear that had a rope attached to it at me from a hundred yards
away, and it embedded deep into my stomach. Then he began pulling on it. I
couldn’t fight because it would yank out my insides, but damn, I didn’t want to
go with it. This whole thing with Luke was both painful and exhilarating at the
same time. I had two urges going through me at once. One was to crap my pants,
and the other was to start doing cartwheels.
I was just messed up, which
is why I started down the stairs. I still had no clue what to say, but I had to
do something.
He was hunched over the
guitar in his lap with a beer at his feet. His eyes were closed, and his head
hung over the guitar as he hit another chord, his thumb beating out the base.
Since he was only wearing jeans, I saw some of the scars on his back. A storm
of regret, shame, and longing all swirled inside me. I wanted to go to him, run
my hands over those scars, and make them disappear. I couldn’t, though. We
weren’t close anymore.
So many ghosts within you
So many haunts to pull you away
You look, I reach out and there’s nothing to do
They take you from me again, far away
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t take your hand
He kept singing, and my heart
felt like it was splitting into two, but then he faltered. His eyes opened, and
he looked up. He didn’t stop playing, but he stopped singing.
I felt like he was
strumming me. I couldn’t look away from his gaze. His thumb stopped hitting the
bass, and his fingers slowed on the guitar. “What are you doing here?”
Right. I was pretty sure I
was seeing lust in his eyes. With that thought, a fever took over my blood,
heating me up. “I,” my tongue wet my lips, “um, I’m here to talk about you and
me.”
His gaze clouded over, and
his eyelids lowered. He bent his head back over his guitar, but he didn’t start
strumming again. “There is no ‘you and me.’ You’re in the band. That’s it.”
I swallowed the lump in my
throat. “Luke,” I started.
“No.” He stood up abruptly,
setting his guitar to the side. He advanced toward me, his eyes were
smoldering.
When my back hit the wall,
I realized I had nowhere else to go and could only watch as he closed in on me.
A part of me wanted him to keep getting closer; the other part of me was still
thinking about crapping my pants.
He leaned a hand against
the wall beside my head, keeping a few inches between us. His eyes were hard as
he said, “There is no you and me. That died long ago, remember?”
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