Read Billy Jeffers: Rockers of Steel for Free Online Page B

reception area, looking as if he hasn’t slept.
    “Good morning,” I say, forcing my head high in the air as I walk by.
    “Got a minute?” he growls behind me.
    “Nope, I’m sorry, but I don’t. Jessica will be here in about thirty minutes. You can make an appointment with her.” I keep walking, and I am pretty damn proud of myself.
    He catches my elbow and spins me around. Facing him, I jerk my elbow away, but he grabs my hand and places my keys in them.
    “I think these belong to you.”
    “Right, thanks.”
    I start to turn.
    “Wait just a fucking minute. We need to talk.”
    “No. No, we don’t.”
    “Madison, I was out of line last night.”
    I shrug. “We’re two consenting adults, so I don’t see a problem.”
    “I’d like to ask that you don’t say anything to Tallia until I have a chance to talk to Memphis.”
    “Are you fucking insane!” I gasp. “Is that why you gave me a hickey?”
    “Nope. No, I’m not. I want him to hear it from me.” He looks at my neck and smirks.
    “Holy shit, Billy; why not just grab the conference room and do a three-way call with my parents while you’re at it?” I snap.
    “So you don’t plan on telling your best friend—”
    “Tell her what, exactly? Do you think we sit around and talk about you?” I look at him with disgust.
    “Oh, please, like you don’t.” He rolls his eyes.
    I lean in and whisper, “There’s not much to tell.”
    “Right, you came”—he holds up two fingers—“twice.”
    “Oh, that’s right, but you didn’t.” I smirk.
    “It’s good to see you haven’t changed, Madison,” he sneers. “You’re still a little bitch.”

“You think last night would have changed that?” she cackles in my face.
    “I gave you what you’ve been begging me to give you for a year, so I thought maybe you could relax a tad now.” I try to sound calm, but it certainly doesn’t come out that way.
    “How about you stick to strumming that guitar of yours? Clearly your sense of reasoning is lacking.”
    No one can push buttons like she can, and now, after last night, it seems to be worse.
    “I wasn’t looking to be a fucking guitar player. I’m a college-educated man, Madison. The only reason you and I even got together like we did was because I was drunk. You know it, and I know it.”
    “Well,” she feigns shock, “far be it for my uneducated ass to argue with you and your four year degree that you clearly aren’t using.”
    “Right.” I can’t help smirking. “You are absolutely right.”
    “Good, at least we can agree on that,” she huffs as she turns and walks away, and I let her have the last word because it really doesn’t matter.
    My head is pounding. I am hungover as hell. And to top it off, she intentionally sways the peach as she walks away, no doubt to drive me mad.
    I swear I have blue balls, and I swear I should drag her into the bathroom and take it out on her right now.
    “Little brat,” I mutter under my breath, and she stops.
    Fuck, I don’t want her to know she gets to me. Girls like Madison feed on drama like a fucking vampire sucking the life out of its victim.
    She doesn’t turn around; she simply raises her hand and flips me the bird.
    I turn around, not trusting myself at this moment, and storm to the soundproof recording studio.
    I know damn well what’s happening here. With my father avoiding my calls, Angel’s suspicions seem very legitimate, and I am busying myself with nonsense.
    I pull out my cell and send another text to my father.
    I’m going to fly in tomorrow. We need to chat, and you don’t seem to want to return my calls .
    I hit send, sit at the keyboard, and wait for whatever the hell is going to happen.
    I start playing “Moonlight Sonata.” I love the way this sonata begins. The first part is adagio, like slow foreplay for the ears. I close my eyes and let my fingers dance across the keyboard, wishing I were home in front of my baby grand. The second movement, the pace is