Page 12 of Tainted Love
Sure, I’m fucked up. I know that and own it. I need to always be in control, which is why I will only fuck women’s throats. I don’t like to be touched—that’s my non-negotiable—and I don’t do relationships. Ever.
Most women don’t care about my conditions, they’re only interested in leaving with a story. Wanting to brag to their friends about how they hooked up with the lead singer of Forever Summer. They don’t care if I’m aloof or how different my sexual preferences may be. I don’t believe in love. To me, all it has ever done is wreak havoc and destruction.
But in less than twenty-four hours Bea has become my new obsession. I can’t get the image out of my head of how her amber eyes burned with desire as I ran my fingers through her soaking wet cunt.
“Eli?” Kill snaps his fingers in front of my face.
Fuck.
I snatch my guitar back from him and slip the strap over my head. “Let’s do this.”
He and Asher share a look, but Ash shakes his head and Kill shrugs before sitting down behind his drum kit. Twirling his sticks, he waits for me to play the intricate new melody I’ve been messing around with today. After a couple of bars, he picks up the beat. Asher comes in on the bass, but Wyatt listens a little longer before starting on the keys.
I block all thoughts of my stepsister and Jas from my mind, as I let the music flow through me. The melody is dark and haunting—reminiscent of our earlier sound—but it’s not surprising given the dark memories which are resurfacing by living in the Kirkland’s house.
We run through it a few more times until we have itsounding smoother. The last notes ring out, and Asher grins. “That shit’s tight, bro.”
My lips tug up into a smirk. “Did you expect anything less?”
He flicks his pick at me, and I easily bat it away.
“You got lyrics yet?”
“I’m working on it.” They are swirling around my head; twisting and moulding themselves into existence, but still too ephemeral to be caught.
Temptation leads into damnation,
But baby just one taste of you
Has me on my knees for you.
Bring me to my knees.
I will give my heart and soul to the devil.
Bring me to my knees.
Before I can suggest we run through it again, there’s a loud banging on the garage door. Kill groans as he walks over to press the button to lift it and pastes a smile on his face as his annoying neighbour comes into view.
“Hiya Dorothy,” he grins. “How can we help you?”
His charm no longer works on her, and she scowls at him with her hands firmly placed on her hips. “Don’t you ‘hiya Dorothy’ me, young man. It’s past five-thirty, and you’re still playing that infernal racket. I told your father, if there was one more breach of our agreement, I’d contact the council and put in a complaint.”
I roll my eyes. We all know no noise complaint will be taken seriously unless it’s after ten p.m., but Kill’s dad doesn’t want us upsetting the neighbours.
“Sure thing, Dorothy,” Kill says smoothly, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and steering her back down the driveway towards her own property. “We’ve finished up now.”
However, the old woman won’t be placated, and she shrugs out of his hold and shakes her finger in his face. “This has been going on for four years now. I’ve had enough of putting up with this noise you boys call music. If you don’t find somewhere else, I’ll start a petition. I’m not the only person in the street who’s had enough. I don’t know why your father hasn’t made you get a proper job. At your age, my brothers were serving this country, not wasting their time squandering taxpayer’s money …”
I tune out of her rant and move to unplug my guitar. Asher sighs beside me as together we pack down the equipment. It’s not the first time we’ve had to deal with Killian’s meddling old biddy of a neighbour, and it won’t be the last.
By the time Kill returns from walking her back to her house, we’re all packed up.
Wyatt grabs his car keys and his phone, then heads down the driveway without a word.
“See ya Wednesday,” Kill calls after him. Wyatt just waves his hand in response.
“What’s with him lately?” Asher muses, as he places his guitar on its stand and moves over to take a seat on one of the couches in the corner of the room.
