Heavy Metal Heart: A Bad Boy Rock Star Romance Read Online Free PDF Page A

near the start of the show. As the crowd moved in unison, she stood against the flow like a tree standing in a river. Those pale, green eyes trained on him like a scope on a sniper rifle, a completely different look than from the female fans begging to fuck him. He locked eyes with her for only a second before she disappeared, but the pained look on her face burned into his memory. Those lovely eyes told a story of sadness, hurt, and pure loathing. 
    What was up with that? Maybe I fucked her sister or her friend? Nah, she would undoubtedly be the hotter choice. She also looked extremely familiar and I know I haven't fucked her.
    He thought back to the party where he first met Helena. Her features were strikingly like that woman, but she avoided his gaze so insistently back then, he never did get a clear look at her face. 
    No reason for Helena to be here anyway. I'm sure she's got her hands full .
    Markus, the new drummer, sauntered up to Torsten and swiped the lighter on the coffee table for his own cigarette. 
    "How'd I do tonight, boss?" 
    "Good." Torsten downed the rest of his beer and lit a second cigarette. He didn't care to elaborate. Gold stars and glowing performance reviews were not his forte as an employer. 
    Markus smiled and stood a bit straighter as if a weight lifted from his shoulders. "Thanks, boss. I know I had big shoes to fill, so I didn't want to disappoint." 
    Torsten dragged on his cigarette slowly. He didn't want to be reminded of Lars tonight, nor did he want that fucker's spirit haunting him. 
    "Markus, there's a reason you're here and your predecessor is not." He exhaled a thick plume of smoke. "I don't ask for much. Keep showing up and doing your job and you'll have a bright future here. The moment you drop the ball, though," he paused to inhale another long drag. "I'm dropping you ." 
    The rookie drummer nodded with much less bravado than moments earlier. Torsten could smell his nervousness like a shark smelling blood. 
    "I won't let you down, boss." He turned and left Torsten to stew in his thoughts on the couch again. 
    We'll see. I learned two lessons in the last year: no second chances and no trusting people at their word .
    His bassist, Anders, sauntered up to him next. Nearly as tall as Torsten, he fit the heavy metal profile to a T with his long dark hair and beard down to the center of his chest. He was the first band member recruited by Torsten and Lars, who jokingly called him Rasputin when he showed up to audition. The nickname stuck ever since. 
    "New kid's alright." Like Torsten, Anders used relatively few words.
    "He'll be fine. As long as he knows not to fuck it up." 
    "Right. We gonna let these bitches in or let 'em scratch at the door all night?" Anders jerked his head toward the door, where the high-pitched begging and pleading of female fans rose to a new, more insistent volume. 
    "Down boy. You'll sound exactly like them in a minute," Torsten jeered. “Alright, let them in.”
    Anders and Stig raced to the door, shoving and tripping each other to reach it while Torsten nearly choked on his beer as he guffawed at the scene. 
    Ah, the power of the pussy. Men will kill each other for it.
    Anders, the bigger of the two, made it to the door first. By the time the fans trickled in, the band and their staff had already smoked approximately half a carton of cigarettes and half a dozen bowls of weed. 
    Four young women stepped timidly inside the hotboxed lounge. Two immediately started coughing, which the band members found hilarious. 
    “Oh no, virgin lungs! We’ll have to do something about that,” laughed Stig. 
    Reluctantly, Torsten lifted himself off the couch and strode leisurely over to greet and introduce himself to their fans. It probably wasn't necessary, considering they knew exactly who he was, but a stuck-up celebrity was the last person he wanted to be. At one time he, too, was a starstruck fan. 
    His eyes roamed over the group of shy, giggling women,