Kneel (God of Rock Book 1) by Butler Eden

Author:Butler, Eden [Butler, Eden]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-26T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

W illa’s diner was a hole in the wall place on the outskirts of Memphis, right off I-55 south. We were a five-bus caravan, with two black SUVs flanking the front and back. But the diner was set back from the service road, and the open pasture next to the parking lot accommodated the large crew. Inside, Dash led me toward the back of the diner, to a red pleather booth by the wall of windows. The floors were black and white checkers, likely a throw back to when the place had been constructed, and the counters were a gold Formica edged in silver. Lars, Dash’s beefy German-looking bodyguard with short white-blond hair and a ruddy complexion pulled down the blinds, then waved us into the booth, standing two tables away to block off anyone other than the wait staff so we wouldn’t be bothered .

It was a little ridiculous, the security and privacy, a fact I made well known when I glanced behind me, waving to Isaiah and Lou, both of whom laughed at the gesture, but waved back. I turned forward, looking at Dash, shaking my head at his somber little frown .

“What?” he said, leaning on his elbows. He moved his head to the right, watching his band and crew as they huddled on the other side of the nearly empty diner. “Would you rather sit with them ?”

I made no comment, keeping to myself that I hadn’t spoken a single word to Isaiah or anyone else in the band since Landon sent that little “off limits” set of rules per Dash’s instruction. It was juvenile and petty for him to ask me to keep away from them, but I’d let the giant baby have his way. It was his ballgame .

“Do you want to continue?” I asked, pulling my laptop out from my messenger bag, nodding to the open document I’d saved during our last hour ride on the bus. Dash had spent most of the day in his bunk, clearly working on a song that was giving him trouble. When my knock cut through the cursing and the same melody he seemed unable to move past, he’d flung the door wide, giving me ample view of his naked chest, low rise jeans, scruffy beard and disheveled mound of hair sticking out at all angles. He had to clear his throat to pull me out of my obvious gawking—God that chest hadn’t been nearly as wide at eighteen—and I hurried to make an excuse .

“You’re stuck and I’m bored. Wanna start this interview ?”

He’d agreed, but, had been evasive at best; giving one-word answers with no elaboration. I’d hoped the meeting with the kids this morning had softened him, made him a little more eager to open up, but the day, so far, had been a bust .

He stretched out, legs on the seat next to him as he rested against the window. “Depends on the information you’re willing to give up yourself.” Dash moved

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