Claiming Her Beasts (Claiming Her Beasts #1) - Dia Cole Page 0,6

of jail.

“You don’t have to do that. It’s not like turning twenty is any big deal. I’ll have everybody out by the time you get home.”

Guilt swamped me. “No. Let them stay. Celebrate with your friends. But don’t go crazy with the drinking. Okay?”

“Really?” His voice brightened.

“Just this once. Hey, have you heard from Eden?”

His silence was damning.

“Reed.”

He let out a sigh. “She got arrested again. She called me from jail to ask if I’d pick her up after her court appearance tomorrow morning. She didn’t want you to find out.”

“That little…” My fingernails curled into the armrest of my chair.

Max strode into the dressing room and motioned at me. The strained look on his sweaty face wasn’t comforting.

My heart pounded. “Reed, I gotta go. Happy birthday.”

I hung up the phone and looked up at my boss. “What is it?”

Please don’t let him fire me. I need this job.

Max rubbed the top of his balding head. “Mr. Diaz wants to see you.”

3

Reed

“Lee?” Trying to filter out the loud music and drunken laughter around me, I pressed my phone into my ear. But she was gone.

The knowledge that I’d once again disappointed the one woman I wanted to impress was a knife twist into my gut. What was I thinking? I knew Lee was exhausted and near her breaking point.

For months she’d been pulling double and sometimes triple shifts, trying to scrape enough money together to keep a roof over our heads.

Through the cloud of cannabis smoke, I zeroed in on Ronnie’s flushed face. Like always, he’d talked me into something I’d regretted. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson from all the other times he’d burned me. Like when I’d let him cheat off my test in chemistry class and we’d both gotten suspended. Or when I’d loaned him my brand-new speaker. I’d worked months of overtime to buy it, and he'd destroyed it in a single night.

Seeming to sense my glare, my drunk friend looked over at me. “What did the ball breaking bitch say?”

I rarely allowed myself to get angry, but I saw red. “Don’t disrespect her.” No one talked about Lee like that in front of me.

Ronnie must’ve sensed the change in my mood because he took a step back. “I meant, what did the beautiful Ms. Walker have to say?”

His change in tone popped my rage balloon. “She’s fine with the party.”

“Woohoo! We’re going to party all night!” Ronnie whirled around in a circle. The quick movement sent his drunk ass off balance and he crashed into a stunning brunette who was talking to our friend Dexter.

“Hey!” she cried. Jungle juice splashed over the top of her cup and ran down her chest as she pushed Ronnie away.

Ronnie leered at her. “Want me to lick that off you?"

She cringed and moved closer to Dexter.

“I’m the lead singer of Panorama.” Ronnie motioned around the room where Morgan and Sam were setting up their musical equipment. “We’re getting signed by a record label this week. Soon we’ll be famous, and you’ll tell all your friends about me.”

“Right,” she said, rolling her heavily kohled eyes. The sarcasm in her voice made me think of Lee.

Lee also didn’t believe Panorama was ever going to amount to anything. But Ronnie wasn’t lying.

Three days ago, our band met with Topic Records. One of their execs had seen us open for Blue Puppy and he’d sent his people to track us down.

The label was legit offering to sign us. It was only a one-off deal, and the percentage of royalties weren’t anything to cream our jeans over, but it was a motherfucking contract. Our big break. It was everything we’d been dreaming about since we first started jamming together.

But Ronnie had read somewhere never to take a first offer, and in his infinite idiocy had told Topic Records we’d think it over. What the hell is there to think about? Someone wanted to pay us to make music. Up to this point we’d been playing for free drinks and the occasional tip crammed into a collection cup.

So eager to sign so I’d have some money to offer Lee, I’d nearly strangled Ronnie with the strap of my bass guitar. But then Sam and Morgan started saying they were having second thoughts about ‘selling out to the man,’ and I realized it would never happen.

Panorama would never be a household name. We’d never play stadiums. The songs I’d written would never be sung by anyone other than our most devoted fans. And worst of