Read Who He Is (FireNine, book 1) Online

Authors: Shanora Williams

Who He Is (FireNine, book 1) (6 page)

“Y
ou know Lucky Charms is my favorite cereal?” he asked.

“No.” I shook my head. “D
idn’t know that.”

“Mind if I join you? Kinda hungry.”
He rubbed his stomach, smirking.

I pressed my lips together and looked toward the table. A few CDs and headphones were lying on top, but besides that, it seemed pretty clean. I grabbed two bowls from the cabinet, two spoons, and followed Gage to the table seats made like restaurant benches.

Pouring the cereal and milk would have been awkward had Deed and Roy not been yelling over their videogame. I handed Gage the box of cereal but noticed his eyes were on me. Watching me. Studying me. I refused to question his stare, although I was curious. I dug into my cereal and Gage cleared his throat, pouring his milk.

“So how has your day been so far, Ellie?” he asked.

“Great, Gage. And yours?”

“Oh, it would have been great if I didn’t wake up with a hangover.”

I shrugged as he placed down the milk. “Happens when you stay out late with a bunch of groupies.”

He chuckled and I looked at him through my eyelashes. “You and Benny have the same sarcasm. You’re almost like twins.”

I laughed because it was true. I took another bite of cereal,
looking at Montana, who was blowing puffs of thick, heavy smoke through his nostrils and lips, his arm resting on the back of the sofa. The smell was drifting our way and I tried my hardest not to gag. It was a strong, dank smell. I was sure the stench was going to linger, even when the boys were gone.

“You were drawing earlier?” Gage questioned, bringing my eyes back to him. “Is it something you enjoy doing a lot?”

I nodded. “It’s a passion of mine. Just like singing is for you.”

He raised an eyebrow, head nodding. “I can understand that.”

“What makes you love singing so much, anyway?” I asked. I was beyond curious. I knew every singer had a reason behind his or her passion. Gage sang so powerfully that it seemed like he blacked out, got lost. His voice was beautiful and carefree. The deepness of it always made my legs quake and my belly roll.

He finished his cereal quickly, drinking his milk before dropping his spoon into his bowl. “I grew up singing with my
sister,” he said. “She was eleven years older than me, but whenever I heard her singing in front of a mirror or even in the shower, I sort of fell in love with singing in general. She had a voice—a beautiful one. I remember when I was five years old and she’d sing me to sleep.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. His face then grew pained, as if he were reliving memories, and I grew even more curious about his past. As he brought his hand down, I caught the name tattooed near his elbow, in between the hues of green, red, and blue.
Kristina
.

“There’s just something about music and singing that takes me away. It takes me to depths so deep I don’t even realize how far I’ve gone until I’m done. Unlike them, where they can release it with their hands,” he said, pointing at the boys with his thumb, “I can feel it coming
out of me
. All I’ve had stored within me from years before is released and… it’s, like… I don’t have to worry anymore, you know? It’s, like… when I sing, there are no doubts. No problems. It has to be when I’m at my most peaceful—when I really just don’t give a shit and can actually let it all go.”

I stared, wide-eyed, as Gage looked me straight in the eyes. His response had caught me completely off guard, leaving me unsure of how to respond to him. It was deep—something I thought Grendel could never be.

“Sorry,” he said, his chuckle nearly dry. “I made myself sound like a damn idiot—”

“No.” I shook my head as he ran anothe
r nervous hand through his hair and lowered his gaze. “No. That was beautiful, Gage. Who would’ve known you had such a way with words?”

“Who do you think writes the songs?” He smirked. “Roy helps out, but most of the lyrics come from me.”

“I just… wow.” I laughed as I shook my head. I was speechless.

“Did you think I was that much of a dick?”

I giggled. “Well… yeah.”

“Nah.” He inhaled deeply, leaning back. “I don’t think I’m that bad. Just have to get to know me. I’m sure you’re the same way.”

My head tilted, eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I know there’s more to you. You seem like the kind of girl who’s careful of not getting too close—the kind of girl who’s always cautious. You’ll take risks, but only when you’re left with no other choice. Behind those eyes I see a girl who would love to let it all go and be herself for a change.”

“I am myself,” I argued. A part of me became afraid because he was sort of right. I was trying so hard to be casual, but to Gage I was probably transparent—especially since I retorted so quickly.


You’re yourself when you wanna be,” he said matter-of-factly. “Last night showed me a little bit about you. I look at people in a different perspective. I saw you differently. Shy with a smart-ass mouth. Reserved, but you know exactly how to cut loose. Girls like you I have to watch out for. Girls like you are the deadliest ones.” He winked.

That caused me to laugh. “Are you considering me a threat?”

“No. I’m considering you a
challenge
.”

Gage’s features
solidified as he leaned forward. His eyes were hard on mine and he didn’t dare look away. I couldn’t force myself to look away either. How was I a challenge? To Gage, I could have been the easiest girl on the planet, but I guess I was doing something right if he considered me a
challenge
.

“Dude, Gage, keep your balls in your pants, man.” Montana coughed from the couch, thick puffs of smoke spurting out as he held his chest. Gage’s
stare fell a little before he turned to look at Montana. He then forced a smile at me, grabbing his bowl.

“Cereal was great, Ellie. Maybe when we get to Texas I can take you out for some real southern dinner.”

“Yeah,” I breathed, pushing from the table and grabbing my bowl. “We could try that.”

He winked after placing his bowl in the sink and then carried himself toward the couch to sit beside Montana. Roy and Deed were still focused on their videogame and
I sighed, folding my arms and trudging toward my room.

I shut the door behind me, flopped onto the bed, and stared at the sketching of Gage for a little too long. No wonder he raided my dreams. Because he had a way with words. He had a way of making me melt and getting my heart to pump. I wasn’t sure about what he meant by me being a challenge for him and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find out because he was too close to discovering who I used to be. What I used to do. How I used to
survive
.

I told myself I didn’t want to know what he meant, but it was a lie. A part of me did want to figure it out sooner or later.

The next morning, I woke up in Texas. The sun was high in the sky; I could even hear roosters crowing from a mile away. It was a grea
t feeling—a refreshing feeling, especially since I didn’t have to deal with waking up in the middle of the night because of harsh memories.

It was best to get my day started early, so I pulled my blankets away, climbed out of bed, and grabbed a towel along with my toiletries. I heard snoring and figured the bo
ys were still sleeping. As I drifted off to sleep last night, it sounded like they were all wide-awake.

I hurried down the hall, hoping no one was awake to see my morning hideousness. It was relief to see the bunks were empty. I neared the bathroom door and grabbed the knob, but it twisted before I could even move my wrist. I gasped, taking a leap back, and considered running for my room, but I didn’t—only because I didn’t have enough time to do so.

Montana appeared behind the door. His glassy, light-blue eyes widened at the sight of me. His toothbrush was hanging out of his mouth and his dirty-blond hair was mussed. Bedhead didn’t only look good on Gage; it looked just as marvelous on Montana, too. “Morning, cutie,” he said, stepping around me and gripping the handle of his toothbrush.

“Morning, Montana.” I sighed.

“Where’re you going so early?”

I shrugged. “I thought I’d go catch some coffee and breakfast somewhere or something. Why are
you
up so early?”

He shrugged.
“Had to kick a broad out.” I rolled my eyes. “Just kidding. I was hot. Couldn’t go back to sleep.” He ran his fingers through his hair, looking me over. “It’s been a while since I’ve been out with someone other than the band, though.” He stepped around me to get into the bathroom and spit into the sink. He rinsed out his mouth and the sink and then turned to face me. “Mind if I come with you?”

“Sure, why not?”

He raised an eyebrow, his right cheek lifting to form a smirk. “You don’t sound so thrilled.”

I sighed, dropping my things on the counter. “It’s called sarcasm.
Since girls are always throwing themselves all over you guys, you probably haven’t heard it directed toward you in a while.”

“Are you always this feisty in the morning?” he asked, pressing his palms on the walls outside the door
and leaning in. “It’s kinda hot.
You’re
hot.” He winked, smirking charismatically.

“I’ll see you after I’m done, Montana.”

I slammed the door in his face and he laughed behind it. After I showered, I wrung my hair out and then wiped the fog from the mirror. I stared at myself, the spitting image of my mother—oval-shaped face, button nose, soft, crystal-like blue eyes, naturally full lips. Sometimes I wondered where she was or what she might’ve been doing. I wondered if she’d gotten better over the years. It sucked knowing what she’d done to me, but oh well. I couldn’t do much about it.

I rushed for my room before anyone could see me and locked the door behind me. I couldn’t afford to have anyone getting a glimpse of my tits by accident. It seemed like a pretty warm day so I went with letting my hair air-dry.
I grabbed a turquoise blouse Ben bought for me, some light-blue skinny jeans, and then a pair of jeweled sandals to add a little spunk. I guess I wasn’t so bad at making myself look presentable.

I checked the wall mirror, sort of excited about my appearance. Ben had great taste, and the outfit was really hot on me. I had to give him some credit for making me look more like a lady than a little girl. We’d made a deal that as long as I was comfortable in the clothes, I would wear them. Of
course, with the club dress he bought, I had no choice. I could’ve gone with what I’d worn at the show, but I felt it was too simple for a club. I didn’t want to look like too much of a fool. I had to fit in somehow.

After scrambling through my suitcases for my wallet, grabbing my camera and my new sunglasses, I headed out of the room, ready to take on a new day.

Montana was already sitting on the couch, fully dressed in a tight vintage-green T-shirt, skinny jeans, and black boots. He didn’t really do much with his mohawk, not that it looked bad. There were just a few loose blond pieces hanging on his forehead and the nape of his neck.

“Do you know what’s around here?” I asked.

He looked up quickly and then stood. “Nope, but we have a driver with a GPS. We’ll find something.”

Nodding, I turned for the door and stepped out. It was blazing outside. I looked up and no clouds were around, only the sun. I placed my sunglasses over my eyes and Montana came out, his sunglasses in hand, too. He shielded his eyes as well,
and then looked toward the black Escalade parked on the curb.

The driver was on the phone as we approached and as soon as he saw Montana and me getting closer, he yelled something into the phone and then pulled it from his ear, ending the call.

“Arguing with the ol’ lady, huh, Stan?” Montana asked.

“Nah.” Stan sighed, stepping around the car to get to the back door. He opened it for us and I climbed in first. Montana climbed in and shut the door behind him. Sta
n hopped in quickly with a heavier sigh. “Okay, I lied. It’s the wife. She’s annoying the hell out of me.”

“What’d she do?” Montana asked.

“Just nagging. Obviously in need of some good ol’ Stan. No worries.” He grunted, sitting forward and starting the car. “As soon as I get back home, her nagging’ll stop. She just misses Big Papa, that’s all.”

Montana laughed and rolled down his window.
I couldn’t help but giggle. “Keep telling that to yourself, Stan.”

Stan was a round man with an evident beer belly and a
bald head beneath his black chauffeur’s hat. He had a meaty neck, but he had kind brown eyes, which made him seem friendlier than anything. To top it all off, he was funny and I automatically knew he was a big teddy bear who probably tried to act tough whenever his wife wasn’t around. I was certain when he was alone with her, he did anything for her in a heartbeat. He just seemed like the type of guy who would kiss his woman’s toes if she asked him to.

Stan looked over his shoulder.
“Where to?”

“Just take us to the nearest diner, if you can,” I inquired.

“You got it. I actually know of a place that’s really close. They serve the best damn waffles and eggs I’ve ever had. The waffles aren’t too crisp or too fluffy. They’re just right. I’m tellin’ ya.”

Montana chuckled again, staring out the window. I couldn’t help but laugh as well. Stan was a cool guy. I wanted him to be my driver instead of Marco’s perverted ass.

It took us about ten minutes to get to the diner. It was pretty old-fashioned, small, but seemed really comfortable and welcoming. As soon as we stepped inside, a woman with grey hair smiled at us from the counter. Her lips were smothered with pink lipstick and her makeup was a bit dramatic for her age.

“It’s you!” she squealed, rushing in our direction.

I looked up at Montana with a face full of confusion and he frowned at the lady before looking down at me and shaking his head. “Trust me, I do not get
that
drunk.”

She continued
rushing our way, but then I saw she wasn’t coming for us. She was going for Stan, who was trailing in behind us. “Hey!” Stan boomed from the door. Montana and I took a step to the side as they hugged.

“What brings you back to Houston?” the woman asked, grinning up at him.

“On the road again, as usual. Got a few rockers on tour and I’m one of the drivers.”

“Aw, ain’t that nice.” The woman patted Stan’s belly and then looked in our direction. “Well, let’s go fill you on up, then.”

I figured out during our chat at the bar that the woman’s name was Marceline. She and Stan were like siblings because Stan lived in Houston, Texas, for two years. He’d even worked at the diner with her as a chef for a short period of time.

I ordered the house famous waffles and scrambled
eggs Stan mentioned and I admit he was right. The food was phenomenal, the coffee was perfect, and to top it all off, Marceline and the staff were extremely kind.

“Do you guys mind if I snap a few pictures of you?” I asked, pulling the strap of my camera over my head. “I just—I have a thing where I like to take pictures of my surroundings.”

“Of course, dear,” Marceline chimed, waving her hand at me. “I’m all up for makin’ memories.”

“Just make sure you don’t drool all over the sight of me in that pic
later,” Montana teased, standing from his barstool. I rolled my eyes playfully and he laughed, standing on the right side of Marceline. Stan was on her left.

I snapped a few pictures of them doing a few poses and making funny faces and
when I was done, I hooked the strap of my camera around my neck again. Marceline gathered our dishes while she and Stan started talking about the diner and I decided I could find a few more things outside to take pictures of, so as soon as I finished my orange juice I headed out.

“So, are you making a scrapbook or something?” Montana asked as he stepped to my side.

“Something like that.”

He chuckled quietly and I looked up at him.
“You’re a really confidential person, you know that? It’s weird because I feel like I’ve been around you long enough to call you a friend, yet I don’t know a single thing about you.”

I pursed my lips with a shrug. “I’m not that hard to figure out.”

“You are to Gage,” he said, chuckling.

I was about to smile, but it evaporated immediately as he said Gage’s name. “How am I hard for Gage to figure out?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Gage is a complicated man. He’s one of those guys who likes to get under people’s skin by trying to figure them out completely—girls especially. He calls it a ‘panty dropper thing.’ Trust me, once he’s figured a girl out, he’ll use it as a sweet weapon against them. He’s weird as fuck that way, but I can’t blame him because it works every damn time.”

“I’ll never understand you rockers,” I sighed. I turned around to find something to snap pictures of and he followed after me.

“Look, I don’t want shit to get ugly so I think I should say this now.”

I paused in my tracks, turning to face Montana, who’d placed his sunglasses over his eyes, his face now serious. “What are you talking about?”

“You danced with Deed the night before—at the club. I’m sure it was fun
and all, but when Gage is interested in someone, I know it. I can tell. I’ve known Gage for years and he isn’t usually one for talking about a girl repeatedly, but it’s weird how he talks about you. And it’s not in a way that makes it seem like he’s crushing on you or even wants to get in your pants. He’s just met you and for some reason he won’t stop bringing you up.

“Like the night at the club, for instance. We were talking about the girls dancing on us and he’d mentioned that you might have gotten mad at him for it. He
also told me he thinks Deed danced with you on purpose since Deed knows he called ‘dibs’ on you. Right after he said something about you, he bailed on us.”

“He didn’t sleep with anyone that night?” I asked, slightly relieved. Of course I tried to hide the relief.

“Nah. He called a ride and went straight to the bus. I’ll be honest here. I think he was upset that you danced with Deed, but of course he wasn’t gonna say it out loud to us… but I could tell.”

I pretended not to care much about what Montana was telling me, but I was kind of glad to hear it. He didn’t sleep with anyone that night. I thought he did since I saw a few girls getting off the FireNine bus the previous morning. I guess there were only two girls for a reason. One for Montana and one for Deed
… or maybe two for Montana.

Turning slowly, I looked ahead and tried to find something to take a picture of to distract myself from these mindboggling thoughts of Grendel. Of course, Montana kept bringing it back up.

“What I wanted to say before is if any one of us tries to claim you, it should be Gage. Don’t fuck with Deed. He’s only doing it to get under Gage’s skin.”

“No one’s claiming me,” I said over my shoulder. I bent down
to take a picture of a ladybug sitting on a dirty water bottle.

“Just saying.” Montana’s shadow shrugged. “I just hope he doesn’t get too caught up on you—not that you’re a bad girl. I just know he and Deed are supposed to be sort of partners for the tour and Deed can act like a real bitch sometimes when it comes down to going out and shit. The kid hates to be alone
for some reason.”

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