Page 56 of My UnTrue Love
“A coyote wouldn’t even know what to do with a muse.” Johnny interjected, his voice filled with scorn. “They don’t have the feelings ofrealartists. They’re just about sex and greed.”
Bill flashed him a savage look.
“Sex and greed?” Clementine repeated incredulously. “Johnny,you’rethe one who forced me from the band, so you could have it all for yourself.”
“No! That isn’t at all how it went. Bill is twisting it, so you think that I did something wrong…”
“Andyou’rethe one sleeping with both Rosalee and Susannah Alabama.” Clem continued, talking right over his protest. “So, if anyone’s driven by sex and greed it’syou.”
“That’s not true!” Johnny declared, even though parts of it had abitof truth. A small bit. “Susannah and I are just friends.” And if she occasionally gave him a friendly blowjob, it was no big deal. Certainly nothing Clem needed to know about.
Clementine fixed him with a look of mild disgust, likehewas the liar in the room. “There are text messages between you two.”
“That bitch kept the text messages?” Johnny couldn’t believe the level of stupidity surrounding him. “Shit! What if they’re leaked to Vulture Valente? It would be a scandal! Why isn’t Susannah thinking about the band?”
“Why aren’tyouthinking about the band?” Clementine retorted. “You’re stringing along the bass banjo playerandthe manager.”
“Susannah’s replaceable.” Johnny waved a hand, because who even paid attention to the bass-banjo? He planned to fire her anyway. “And Rosalee’s got a thing for me, sure. But we’re not serious. No way!” He gave Clem a meaningful look. “She’s four years older than us, you know. Practically a cougar.”
Bill’s brows lifted. “So all y’all have an understanding?” He clarified.
“Of course.” Johnny insisted and it was true. After all, any woman who slept with a musician should know the score. Ifshe didn’t, it was her own problem. “They’re not innocent girls, getting taken advantage of. Unlike Clem.”
Bill’s eyes narrowed.
“Bill isnottaking advantage of me.”
“Of course he is! He thinks you’re his ticket to the spotlight.”
“This is pointless.” Clementine backtracked to grab his laptop off the bar and then headed towards him, shoving it into his arms. “You’ve caused enough trouble, Johnny. Take this and go away.” She gestured towards the exit. “Go on!”
“Nobody can make that coyote into a star, Clem. Sooner or later, you’ll see that. Your magic is too important to you. You need arealartist to work with. It’s the only way you’ll be happy.” His triumphant eyes met Bill’s stony gaze, as he stormed out the door. “Everybody knows it.”
Chapter Twelve
“I love my mate,” the cy’ote alleged,
“I mourn to leave her side,
But destiny calls to break my pledge,
To my clingy little bride.”
Lyrics from the folk song “Crossroads Coyote”
“You need to snap out of this.” Clementine leaned closer to him. “You go on in twenty minutes.”
Bill rubbed at his temple, trying to think. Johnny was a fucking moron, but what if he was right, for once? What would it be like for Bill’s animal-half if the coyote was locked away? It enjoyed its freedom, roaming untethered inside him. Without an outlet, it would feel boxed in. Be trapped and restless and furious and miserable.
Why wouldn’t it be the same for Clementine?
“Bill, what in the world is bothering you so much that…?”
“Would you be unhappy not using your magic?” He interrupted, already knowing the answer.
“Isthatwhat this is about?” She rolled her eyes.
“I’m serious. You’re a muse. Do you need to work with an artist to be happy?”
