Page 57 of Anthem of Love and Loathing

“Yes.” Do I really need to explain to him the danger she represents to all of us?

He huffs out a long breath. Shakes his head.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Golden rubs his face with his hand, locks eyes with me. “I was just debating on if I need to put in a request for a new bassist.”

Furrowing my brows, I stare at him. What is he on about?

He continues, “Seeing as Kodiak crawled into her bunk twenty minutes ago.”

I twinge my neck, turning sharply to look down bunk alley. It’s quiet and dark, but that doesn’t mean Kodiak hasn’t slithered into her bunk. An image of her riding the asshole fills my vision and turns everything hazy.

“Night,” he says, trying to hide the obnoxious smile that wants to break on his face as he finally fucks off.

I try to go back to what I was doing before he interrupted, but every tiny sound has my attention on bunk alley. Was that a moan? Is he fucking her right now? Did she tell him how much she loves to be edged? Is she whimpering in his ear, quiet and intimate.

The pen snaps, blue ink bleeding all over my hand and the paper. “Fuck.”

I put my guitar down and get up to put the pen in the trash before grabbing a cloth to mop up the ink splats on the table. The page in my book is ruined, and my hands are stained as I toss the cloth in the trash too. Folding my notebook in half, I stick it in my back pocket.

Bunk alley is quiet when I pass through on my way to the bathroom to clean up. The lack of noise sticks my teeth together. My temples start to pulse with a burgeoning headache. I need to get buzzed before my head turns into migraine city.

Lathering up, I scrub at the blue ink until it fades. There’s no way I’m getting it all off though. Karma, probably. For drawing all over Kelsey with permanent marker last night. “Fucking funny, Karma, considering what she’s done to me.”

Someone is breathing hard and fast when I exit the bathroom. A grunt accompanies it.

I swear that’s a whimper.

To hell with this. I march over, grab the privacy curtain on Kelsey’s bunk and yank it back hard enough it comes off its hooks. Only to find she’s all alone.

Golden is a fucking liar.

Her eyes pop open. Unfocused at first and then glaring right at me. I press two hands onto the frame, ready to hoist myself into the bunk with her. She needs a reminder that she doesn’t get to fuck with my bandmates.

Something stings my neck as she moves upright quickly. Her hand is near my throat, where the burst of pain is.

“Come any closer and this fork will be buried in your neck for real,” she whispers threateningly.

So that’s what it is.

I wrap my hand around her wrist and squeeze until she cries out and releases her weapon. It clatters onto the wooden frame of the bunk and then onto the floor.

“Who the fuck let you have a weapon?” I loosen my grip on her wrist. It had to be Jasper. He’s had eyes on her since day one. “I’m going to fire his ass.”

“You will not.” She glares at me as she snatches her hand back. “And a fork is hardly a weapon. He refused to let me take the knife I wanted.”

“You’re a fucking psycho.”

“You saw the neighborhood I was living in,” she says. “And you’ve been an absolute asshole. I don’t trust you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” I growl back. “But you used to know me well enough to be certain that I would never, ever force myself on you.”

Her shoulders release. She takes a deep breath and this time her whisper has softened. “Yeah. Except…”

I held her down when I took those photos and marked her up like she marks my posters. Those photos will probably never see the light of day. They’re just a nice addition to my personal collection. Blackmail potential, a way to ensure she continues to do as I say.

“You’re not the only asshole I have to worry about.” Her eyes widen and her lips turn thin, like she didn’t mean to say it out loud.