Say it Louder Read Online Free PDF

drama following him.
    “OK, I’m going.” Dave pulls out his phone and glances it, but clicks the screen off immediately. I know that look. No messages.
    Dave slouches to the front door, pulling it open so the entry bell tinkles. He turns to me. “Thanks for today. Seriously.”
    I lift my chin in acknowledgement. “Looks like it worked.”
    “What?”
    “Gave you some perspective, didn’t it? Stop feeling sorry for yourself?”
    Dave nods. “That part worked.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

    I can’t put it off any longer. The cab takes me home too fast and I don’t know if she’s waiting for me there.
    Will Kristina pretend it never happened? Believe we’re through? Or weave another threat into the tangled web of leverage she’s had over me and the band for years?
    The sight of a police cruiser parked on my block stops me in my tracks before I climb the steps of my brownstone.
    I’m not ready to go to jail.
    I don’t know if a cop’s here for me—maybe Kristina’s got them waiting inside—but I’m not ready to find out. I spin and sprint away from my house, my lungs on fire as I cover three blocks, then ten, until I double over by a park bench, hands on my knees.
    Cold sweat prickles my back.
    I hail another cab cruising past me and give them the only name I can think of right now: Righteous Ink. I don’t care if Willa kicked me out. I only know that it’s my one safe space.
    If they don’t find me at home, they’ll go to Gavin’s place. Or Tyler’s. He texted me today while I was at Willa’s shop to say that band practice was canceled and Jayce was taking Violet to Colorado for the weekend to escape the media craziness that her naked pictures stirred up.
    So, for the moment, I’m alone in a city of eight million.
    I exit the cab half a block from Righteous Ink and slink up to the window, careful to stay out of Willa’s sightline. She’s drawing at the counter again, absorbed in her work.
    I watch her. Shove my hands in my pockets and lean on the side of the building, trying to not look like a creep as the minutes tick by toward five o’clock.
    Willa’s face is pinched in concentration, as if drawing out her ideas causes some discomfort in birthing them. She squints, erases, and then puts pencil to paper again.
    Fuck it. I’ve got nothing to lose.
    I pull open the door to the tinkle of bells and try to ignore the way her expression falls when she sees me. I’m an idiot. She doesn’t want me here at all.
    “Forget something?”
    I shove my hands in my pockets, hating what I have to ask. “I need a favor.”
    “Shoot.”
    “There’s a cot in your break room. Any chance I can use it?”
    “Why don’t you just go home and take a nap?”
    I approach the counter, flick my thumbnail against a chip in it. “It’s complicated.”
    “Your girlfriend there?”
    “I have no idea. But right now, I can’t be there. Seriously can’t. So I’m wondering if I could stay here for a little bit.”
    Willa straightens and closes her sketchpad. She glances at the clock—it’s a few minutes ’til closing. “No.”
    God. Do I have to fucking beg? I could pull out my credit card and book a hotel room, but I’m afraid they’d find me there, too.
    Willa shoves her sketchpad in a battered messenger bag and hoists it over her head. She’s leaving. My one last chance is out of here. “Are you going to tell me why?”
    “No.”
    “Then you can’t stay here. I don’t know what you want, but my job’s on the line if I let you stay here. And I can’t afford to lose it.”
    I stare at her as she walks through the tattoo shop and flicks off lights, then pulls the chain beneath the neon OPEN sign to turn it off. She opens the door and pulls out a ring of keys to lock up.
    “Willa, have you ever needed someone to just help you? No questions asked?” We’re just a few inches apart as she pulls the door closed behind us, but I don’t back away. I can feel her body heat pull at me like a campfire’s warmth.