Read Online Rock Angel (Rock Angel Series Book 1) by Jeanne Bogino - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jeanne Bogino
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girl oughta be home soon.”
Ty grinned. “I have a date myself tonight. Man, I love New York!”
Shan placed Joanie in her case. She couldn’t believe they were talking about doing anything at all after the grueling afternoon they’d had. Her shoulder hurt, her back ached, and her fingers felt like she’d held them on a grindstone. Her legs were starting to cramp, too, and her eyes to water, signals that it was time for a fix.
Since none of the guys showed any signs of leaving, Shan excused herself and went into the bathroom. She pulled out the small stash she’d hidden inside her cosmetic bag, pushed aside the heavy black curtain to open the window, and sat down on the toilet, lighting the strawberry-scented candle that resided on the tank. In her bedroom, she used incense to camouflage the fumes.
She discovered that she’d left her tooter there, so she pulled the last few sheets off the toilet paper spindle and used the cardboard tube. Just a couple of hits were enough to quell the jones. Another hit and she’d be feeling fine, but instead she blew out the candle. She returned the stash to her cosmetic bag, spraying air freshener to further disguise the smell.
When she came back to the living room, Ty was gone and Dan had vanished into Denise’s bedroom. Quinn was waiting for her. “You’re not gigging tonight, are you?”
“No, thank God,” she groaned. Her eyes felt fuzzy and she blinked hard to clear them. “I’m exhausted. And starving,” she added, realizing she hadn’t eaten anything since that morning.
“You want to split a pizza?”
She felt a rush of dismay. She didn’t want to go anywhere with him . As Dan had predicted, he’d been all over her ass all day. After he finished criticizing her voice, he’d started in on her playing. He had a problem with one of her solos. Too rough, he’d said. Too wild, not enough structure. He’d made her play it over and over till her fingertips felt like chunks of raw hamburger.
“Not tonight. Maybe some other time.”
“I’m not asking you for a date ,” Quinn sneered. “You and I aren’t finished yet. You need coaching on your vocals and, if you’re not gigging, then we’re starting tonight.”
“But I thought you liked my voice. Why would you want to mess with it?”
“I’m polishing it, not messing with it. You oughta be thanking me, angel. When I coach people at school, I get forty bucks an hour. Now, what do you like on your pizza?”
“Mushrooms and pepperoni,” she said meekly. She went for the phone, suppressing a sigh. It was going to be a long night. In fact, she was starting to think it was going to be a long summer.
chapter 7
For the next week, Shan spent four to five hours a day practicing with the band and another two being coached by Quinn each night. Every minute she wasn’t practicing, she was scrambling to memorize the twenty-six songs she had to know for the Saturday night playlist. She’d never worked so hard in her life.
Her head had to be clear so she dosed on small amounts of heroin, but had to do it often to keep stable. She developed a routine of dosing when she first got up, again during midafternoon, once more before they started their evening coaching session, and at bedtime, to take her through the night. She knew it was the least she could get away with, because she could feel the jones setting in just before she dosed.
When she thought about it, which she tried not to do, she acknowledged that the H was the dominant force in her life. She had to arrange everything around it—her time, her work, even her sleep—and she hated being such a slave to it. She fantasized about getting clean, being able to live like a normal person, but she knew it wouldn’t happen anytime soon. Turkeying was definitely not compatible with the nonstop work required by her new band.
At least she had plenty of H. The rock she’d taken from Jorge was huge, enough to keep her supplied for a long time, and so far
Ty grinned. “I have a date myself tonight. Man, I love New York!”
Shan placed Joanie in her case. She couldn’t believe they were talking about doing anything at all after the grueling afternoon they’d had. Her shoulder hurt, her back ached, and her fingers felt like she’d held them on a grindstone. Her legs were starting to cramp, too, and her eyes to water, signals that it was time for a fix.
Since none of the guys showed any signs of leaving, Shan excused herself and went into the bathroom. She pulled out the small stash she’d hidden inside her cosmetic bag, pushed aside the heavy black curtain to open the window, and sat down on the toilet, lighting the strawberry-scented candle that resided on the tank. In her bedroom, she used incense to camouflage the fumes.
She discovered that she’d left her tooter there, so she pulled the last few sheets off the toilet paper spindle and used the cardboard tube. Just a couple of hits were enough to quell the jones. Another hit and she’d be feeling fine, but instead she blew out the candle. She returned the stash to her cosmetic bag, spraying air freshener to further disguise the smell.
When she came back to the living room, Ty was gone and Dan had vanished into Denise’s bedroom. Quinn was waiting for her. “You’re not gigging tonight, are you?”
“No, thank God,” she groaned. Her eyes felt fuzzy and she blinked hard to clear them. “I’m exhausted. And starving,” she added, realizing she hadn’t eaten anything since that morning.
“You want to split a pizza?”
She felt a rush of dismay. She didn’t want to go anywhere with him . As Dan had predicted, he’d been all over her ass all day. After he finished criticizing her voice, he’d started in on her playing. He had a problem with one of her solos. Too rough, he’d said. Too wild, not enough structure. He’d made her play it over and over till her fingertips felt like chunks of raw hamburger.
“Not tonight. Maybe some other time.”
“I’m not asking you for a date ,” Quinn sneered. “You and I aren’t finished yet. You need coaching on your vocals and, if you’re not gigging, then we’re starting tonight.”
“But I thought you liked my voice. Why would you want to mess with it?”
“I’m polishing it, not messing with it. You oughta be thanking me, angel. When I coach people at school, I get forty bucks an hour. Now, what do you like on your pizza?”
“Mushrooms and pepperoni,” she said meekly. She went for the phone, suppressing a sigh. It was going to be a long night. In fact, she was starting to think it was going to be a long summer.
chapter 7
For the next week, Shan spent four to five hours a day practicing with the band and another two being coached by Quinn each night. Every minute she wasn’t practicing, she was scrambling to memorize the twenty-six songs she had to know for the Saturday night playlist. She’d never worked so hard in her life.
Her head had to be clear so she dosed on small amounts of heroin, but had to do it often to keep stable. She developed a routine of dosing when she first got up, again during midafternoon, once more before they started their evening coaching session, and at bedtime, to take her through the night. She knew it was the least she could get away with, because she could feel the jones setting in just before she dosed.
When she thought about it, which she tried not to do, she acknowledged that the H was the dominant force in her life. She had to arrange everything around it—her time, her work, even her sleep—and she hated being such a slave to it. She fantasized about getting clean, being able to live like a normal person, but she knew it wouldn’t happen anytime soon. Turkeying was definitely not compatible with the nonstop work required by her new band.
At least she had plenty of H. The rock she’d taken from Jorge was huge, enough to keep her supplied for a long time, and so far
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