URGENT (Book 2 of the Soundcrush Series)

Chapter 48: Front Men F*ck Their Karma

Check out the cover of Howie Day's "Collide" above. I think this is a great song for what Leed is feeling right now and Clay Coley has the same kind of powerful , expressive and raw voice I imagine Leed has...

Leed

I should not fucking be here, man.

This is bad karma.

I know that.

The thing is...I'm wounded. And when someone is hurting like I'm hurting, the rights and wrongs don't seem to matter so much. I'm stripped of all my balance and reason. My chi is all fucked and I can't get it flowing right on my own.

Actually, the truth is, right now, I don't even think I believe in all that balance bullshit.

Right now, I think life is nothing more than a fight for survival. Life and death. A fight to make sure your genes, your line, your strength, persists into the future. We are all animals.

A lion, they call me.

A lion doesn't give a fuck about his karma.

A lion roars. A lion claims his territory. A lion fights and fucks and does what he damn well pleases.

A lion spends his day lying on a rock, drawing strength from the sun, because he never knows when his world will go to shit and some outside force will bring the fight to him.

He doesn't care that he takes and rules...and leaves his pride to deal with the fallout of his dominance.

A lion does what he does and doesn't worry about shit.

You're a lion, Leed Lawson. Don't fight against nature. You can't win.

Go with your instinct. Take what you need to survive. It's your right. You are King of the Jungle, man. If you want lie down with that sunshine, do it. If it feels good, fucking take it.

Shit.

I don't want to be a lion.

Not with her. She doesn't need a lion. She needs a friend. The last time I came here, I came as a friend. I came for her. Now I'm here for me, and...

This is wrong. Wrong for her, bad karma for me.

I rise from the couch in this cheerful visitation room. "I can't stay. I have to go," I tell the Island Lady at the desk with the turban and the smile that feels like a laugh. She just shakes her head. I raised hell and charmed and wheedled and finally begged Island Lady to get in this place at barely 6am, and now I'm bailing.

"You in a bad way, chile," she clucks as I stride past her, and jerk open the door, walking out into the breezy beach wind.

I'm halfway to the rental car, when I hear a voice behind me, raised against the wind. "Leed?"

I turn toward it. The sun is rising directly behind her, her long pale hair is whipping in the wind, tipped with the promise of the brightening day, shining around her like a golden aura.

Fuck me. Is that supposed to be some kind of sign?

I don't even know.

All I know is I can't stop my feet from moving toward her.

I stop in front of her. She looks different—vibrant. Her amber eyes bright with a light I only saw in flashes in LA. She looks strong—so much fucking stronger than I have ever seen her. Her posture is perfectly at ease but her long limbs radiate vigor and tone that wasn't ever there before—not even the first time I saw her all those years ago. When she came to UGA to visit friends. Brought Kat to visit Trace.