Read Online Razing Ryker (Dissonance Book 1) by Jordanna James - Free Book Online
Authors: Jordanna James
Ads: Link
Lexy. She’d been hounding him so hard he’d considered changing his phone number, but he wasn’t sure even that would stop her. She was angry and annoyed, petulant and despondent. She told him he was overreacting and being childish, and when that didn’t get a rise out of him she started crying and talking crazy saying she couldn’t sleep without him and she didn’t know what would happen to her if he didn’t forgive her. If he didn’t see her and let her make it up to him.
Not happening.
He’d ended up hanging up on her and heading back inside, hoping he could catch the end of Greer’s audition. He’d been surprised to find her in the hallway and he instantly worried when he saw her with her head pressed against the window. She looked beaten. Sad. It’d angered him immediately. He’d told Grant she was a lock. That in no way was she to be turned down. She was the only one he demanded be in the show, no question. He couldn’t even explain why he wanted her there. Why he needed her in the show. There was something in her eyes, in her tone, that called to him. They’d barely talked but looking at her made him feel a little bit less alone, a feat no one had been able to manage in a year. Not since his mother had died and he’d been left with no one but his piece of shit father and cokehead girlfriend.
And Grant. He had Grant and he honestly didn’t know what he’d do without him. He was the only real friend that Ryker had anymore. The only person he even considered trusting. Everyone else wanted a piece of him or all of him if they could manage it. But even that friendship couldn’t fill the emptiness that plagued him night after night and left him waking at three am. Lexy hadn’t filled it. Booze didn’t fill it. His music wasn’t what he wanted and it left him more lost than anything else. Hearing his own songs on the radio was like listening to someone else’s music. It didn’t resonate with him. He couldn’t connect with it and he’d wrote the shit. It was messed up and he hated it. He hated almost everything lately. It was depression, he knew it, but he didn’t know what to do about it. He wanted to write, to create, but there was nothing in him to put to paper. He was hollow and it scared him more than anything else in his life ever had before.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he told Grant, his eyes falling on the corner of Greer’s headshot that was peeking out from the pile. Her large green eye was squinted at the edge from her smile, a line of laughter that hit him in the heart like a jolt of energy. He wanted to reach out and pick up her photo to get a better look, but he knocked back the remainder of his whiskey instead. “Call ‘em. Line it up.”
“You got it, man. I’ll see what I can do.”
“You don’t think they’ll all want to do it.” It wasn’t a question.
Grant shook his head doubtfully as he pulled the headshots into a neat stack. “I don’t, no. I think the girl from Surrendered , Cara, is going to stay with the production. She said in her audition that she wasn’t sure she could get away long enough to work with us.”
“Yeah, I know. Call her anyway.” He hesitated, watching Grant pull out his phone and pick up Cara’s headshot off the top of the pile. Cameron, the guy from Rendezvous, was underneath it. “Give me that one. I’ll call him.”
“Sure.”
“Give me all of them from that production. I’ll call them all.”
Grant chuckled at him. “You know we’d be better off if you personally called Cara and the others still involved in running productions, right?”
“Yeah,” he muttered, taking the headshots and walking to the bar to refill his drink.
“Ry.”
“You’re a silver tongued devil, Grant,” he said, not looking back at his friend. “You’ll stand a better chance getting them than I will. Give me the locks. I can’t screw those up.”
“You won’t screw it up, man.”
“I screw everything up lately,” he grumbled dialing
Not happening.
He’d ended up hanging up on her and heading back inside, hoping he could catch the end of Greer’s audition. He’d been surprised to find her in the hallway and he instantly worried when he saw her with her head pressed against the window. She looked beaten. Sad. It’d angered him immediately. He’d told Grant she was a lock. That in no way was she to be turned down. She was the only one he demanded be in the show, no question. He couldn’t even explain why he wanted her there. Why he needed her in the show. There was something in her eyes, in her tone, that called to him. They’d barely talked but looking at her made him feel a little bit less alone, a feat no one had been able to manage in a year. Not since his mother had died and he’d been left with no one but his piece of shit father and cokehead girlfriend.
And Grant. He had Grant and he honestly didn’t know what he’d do without him. He was the only real friend that Ryker had anymore. The only person he even considered trusting. Everyone else wanted a piece of him or all of him if they could manage it. But even that friendship couldn’t fill the emptiness that plagued him night after night and left him waking at three am. Lexy hadn’t filled it. Booze didn’t fill it. His music wasn’t what he wanted and it left him more lost than anything else. Hearing his own songs on the radio was like listening to someone else’s music. It didn’t resonate with him. He couldn’t connect with it and he’d wrote the shit. It was messed up and he hated it. He hated almost everything lately. It was depression, he knew it, but he didn’t know what to do about it. He wanted to write, to create, but there was nothing in him to put to paper. He was hollow and it scared him more than anything else in his life ever had before.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he told Grant, his eyes falling on the corner of Greer’s headshot that was peeking out from the pile. Her large green eye was squinted at the edge from her smile, a line of laughter that hit him in the heart like a jolt of energy. He wanted to reach out and pick up her photo to get a better look, but he knocked back the remainder of his whiskey instead. “Call ‘em. Line it up.”
“You got it, man. I’ll see what I can do.”
“You don’t think they’ll all want to do it.” It wasn’t a question.
Grant shook his head doubtfully as he pulled the headshots into a neat stack. “I don’t, no. I think the girl from Surrendered , Cara, is going to stay with the production. She said in her audition that she wasn’t sure she could get away long enough to work with us.”
“Yeah, I know. Call her anyway.” He hesitated, watching Grant pull out his phone and pick up Cara’s headshot off the top of the pile. Cameron, the guy from Rendezvous, was underneath it. “Give me that one. I’ll call him.”
“Sure.”
“Give me all of them from that production. I’ll call them all.”
Grant chuckled at him. “You know we’d be better off if you personally called Cara and the others still involved in running productions, right?”
“Yeah,” he muttered, taking the headshots and walking to the bar to refill his drink.
“Ry.”
“You’re a silver tongued devil, Grant,” he said, not looking back at his friend. “You’ll stand a better chance getting them than I will. Give me the locks. I can’t screw those up.”
“You won’t screw it up, man.”
“I screw everything up lately,” he grumbled dialing
Similar Books
