The Griffin's Secret. Cate Masters

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СКАЧАТЬ treasured their conversations, however infrequent. Fred’s soft-spoken kindness acted like a healing balm to her soul, and she couldn’t ruin what small friendship they had by constantly bringing him down. “I love the music. I love life on the road.” If she didn’t spend all her free time in virtual exile on the bus, she wouldn’t mind traveling one bit.

      Except for Mal. No one loved him except Mal himself, and the confined quarters strained everyone’s nerves.

      Fred grinned. “Your grandfather would be so proud of you.”

      Her heart squeezed. “He wouldn’t have been able to stay in the same room with me. What I do is a joke, a mockery of music.” Nothing like his artistic genius.

      “No way. You’re—”

      “Please don’t try and make me feel better.”

      Guitar in hand, he rose. “I’d better get some shut-eye. You should, too.”

      She hid her loneliness behind a smile. “I will. Soon.”

      He shuffled to the back of the bus.

      And as soon as she could manage it, sleep wouldn’t be her only means of escaping an existence she could hardly tolerate. Funny, how many people would do anything to get on board this enclosed hell, and all she wanted to do was get the hell off.

      Snuggled under the warm cover, she instinctively reached for the iPad. She’d convinced Mal to get her one so she could watch videos. Research and study, she’d told him, but she was fairly certain he knew otherwise. Sometimes, Mal dropped the bastard persona, but not often enough.

      A touch brought up YouTube. Another few strokes, and a list of videos appeared. She tapped Jimi Hendrix’s “Hey Joe” and settled low against the pillows. His intensity never failed to captivate her. The movements of his fingers seemed deliberate, yet amazingly free, dancing along the neck and strings of the white Fender Stratocaster. When he raised the strings to his mouth and plucked them with his teeth, and then flipped the guitar behind his head and still played every note perfectly, goose bumps raised on her skin. Musical genius at its finest. Jimi had no need of magic. He’d given this performance before meeting the woman who’d introduced him to other musical powers and then cursed him in a jealous rage.

      So tragic, to have lost a great talent so young. At least he’s free now.

      Unlike Layla, who suffered like her mother and grandmother had before her. Soon, she would break free of these bonds. Very soon. With no boundaries, who knew how far up she could go? So high, she could kiss the sky.

      But heights such as those could be dangerous. Mal was living proof.

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