Domination Read Online Free PDF

of the bus, reclining on a bench, his head
propped up in one hand and a pencil in the other. It wouldn’t do to run over to
him like some crazed groupie, much as she wanted to. He looked up, sent a lazy,
unsmiling wink her way, and looked back down at the page. Country music rang
through the speakers, all tears and bourbon. Yuck. She hated country.
    She took a grateful seat next to Jet.
    “ Wilkommen , bienvenue , welcome,” he said. “When
in Texas…” He indicated a sauce-smeared pile of ribs, brisket and bones. Had
these guys ever heard of side dishes?
    She helped herself to a plate of barbecue but passed on the
beer.
    “Do you only speak in quotes?”
    “Darling, all the really choice things have already been
said. I spread the wisdom of our literary elders to the world while Bram thinks
up new rhymes for ‘blood’.”
    That seemed a bit unfair but Josie realized she should
research Domination’s lyrics so she knew what Bram was singing about. More than
blood, surely. There couldn’t be that much to say on the subject.
    “Did you sleep well?” Jet added slyly. “You look positively
radiant.”
    “Like a top, as you English say.” She had slept so soundly
she woke up boneless and confused, the blackout curtains hiding the early-afternoon
light, not even recognizing where she was. There’s something to be said for
a late night of rough sex, she thought. Does wonders for your rest
cycle.
    “Well, don’t get cozy. This will be a short ride, Bucky
tells us. See you at the show.”
    Josie felt dismissed, although Jet’s smile was kind on his
delicate, girlish face. She took a notebook and pen as cover and made her way
to the back where Bram was scribbling.
    “The muse strikes?” she ventured, sitting down. His lean
form stretched across the bench like a jungle cat at rest.
    He nodded at the pen. “Silly tool, that.”
    “It’s just a front. You said I wasn’t allowed to quote you.”
    “Not exactly, Josie. I think you can figure out what’s
publishable, what’s indiscreet and what’s actionable. Still, use a pencil. You’ve
clearly never been north of Leeds.”
    That had been one of Artie’s tricks. He learned it on the
road with Iggy Pop, somewhere in New Hampshire in January. The ink in his pen
had frozen and he’d lost half a day of band shenanigans and solid-gold quotes.
    “What are we listening to?”
    “Lefty Frizell.”
    “Not familiar.”
    He didn’t look up. “A songwriter can learn a lot from any
genre, if the quality’s good enough. Lefty, Hank, Merle—they had a lock on
heartbreak. Universal emotion, that. Take a butcher’s at the lyrics before you
judge.”
    Heartbreak. Even Bram Hunter knew the feeling. She wondered
who the girl had been and what she had done to him.
    “What are you working on?”
    Bram scowled. “My last will and testament.”
    “Oh.”
    His black-ringed blue eyes started into hers. “A song, love.
It’s generally a song.”
    She sat mere inches from his body but could feel the heat of
it. She wanted him to touch her, just a stroke on her back or a squeeze of her
waist. But he twiddled the pencil and frowned at the notebook.
    “Have at it. Sorry for interrupting.”
    The ride wasn’t more than ninety minutes but to Josie it
seemed like an eternity. The glow of the morning had faded and the barbecue sat
uneasily in her belly. I forgot I get motion sick, she thought grimly. This
is going to be a long two weeks.
    Especially if Bram ignored her the whole time, writing songs
about girls who had broken his heart.
    Then again, neither of them wanted the rest of the band—much
less the rest of the world—to know what had gone on between them. “Between you
and me,” he had said. And it would stay that way. Stop being such a girl, she
told herself. He’s not your boyfriend. Get to work.
    * * * * *
    The live radio appearance wouldn’t reveal anything new and
anyway, Josie was on board with the band for exclusive content, not rock
platitudes available to