Page 1 of Vengeful Melodies
Chapter One
Dreya Maeree Lorena
The radio host comes back on the station as I tap my pen in a rhythmic beat, my finger hovering over the call button while I stare at the number on the screen. I’ve been trying for three days straight to win VIP passes to Bradley’s favorite band, Heaven’s Guilt.
They’ll be playing in Remington on my birthday, and I thought maybe—just maybe—that would persuade him to go out with just the two of us for once. No Craven tagging along, not that girl from his job he says is trying to get with Craven.
Honestly, she creeps me out and gives me these weird looks whenever I’m around Bradley. I don’t know why. I’ve always been friendly and welcoming when she’s nearby, even if it feels strange that my fiancé has a female “friend” when he’s never had close friends of the opposite sex before.
I’m not a jealous woman. I know my worth. Even when I forget, Wren is there to remind me. Wren has been my best friend since we were kids—the one person who’s never steered me wrong or let me down. So when he told me, blunt and serious, that the only reason Bradley’s new friend is around is because she’s fucking my fiancé, I wanted to scream no. But a sinking part of me couldn’t ignore his warning.
“Well, ladies and gentlemen, let’s see who the lucky contestant is to win VIP tickets to see Heaven’s Guilt!” the radio host booms, hyping the band like they’re the next best thing since sliced bread.
My phone clicks, and the same man is on the line—my phone.
Oh FUCK. I did it. I won.
“Well, hello there. Who do I have the privilege of talking to today?” the man asks kindly.
“Dreya… Dreya Lorena,” I say in a jumbled mess. The radio lowly repeats my name in the background, and I cringe inside. I sound like a fool. What the hell.
“Well, Ms. Dreya, it seems you’ll be seeing the guys play November 25th. Now, our listeners want to know... will you have a plus one, or are you looking for someone to join you?” The man’s voice is deep, casual.
“No, I haven’t decided who to take yet… guess I’ll have to keep my options open,” I reply sweetly, pulling my lip between my teeth to calm my nerves. Please let this call end before someone overhears and tells Bradley before I want him to know.
“Well, come by tomorrow to claim your tickets. I can’t wait to put a face to the voice. Again, congratulations on winning two VIP passes to meet and see Heaven’s Revenge,” the man says softly. I can’t help but smile at his kindness, even though he can’t see it.
“Yes, sir, will do. Thank you,” I say quickly, and then the line goes dead. The host announces the next songs to get the station back on track.
The sweat covering my hands slowly dissipates, along with the adrenaline that caused it in the first place. Only once it settles can I draw in a shaky breath.
Well, looks like I’m going to see a band I’ve only briefly listened to when Bradley and I used to ride together. But lately, I’ve been driving myself, meeting him wherever he tells me to.
Sad, but it’s the only option if I want any time with him—especially with his recent promotion. Our time together has been shrinking. He works later and later, and each time I offer to bring him dinner or see him at the office, he tells me his boss is present, and the company won't allow it.
When I met Langston, he never had a problem with me coming before. He even said it was always a delight having me around—that I brought joy into such a dull place, that Bradley was lucky to have me as a fiancée. I always brushed it off. Langston reminded me of the father I never had growing up, his words echoing what I imagine a male parental figure would say.
So, since I won the tickets, I’m going to surprise Bradley at work today.
I quickly pack up my station, slipping my laptop and paperwork into my briefcase. I push myself away from my desk. If I didn’t want to better myself and escape Frieza’s Cold Bar and Diner, I might have already quit this pointless pursuit of a marketing degree.
Hell, Bradley told me I was stupid for chasing it. That marketing was for men who could handle the hard work, and that I was setting myself up for failure that would only reflect poorly on me.
The cold autumn air hits me before I can slip my arms into my leather jacket. After two tries, I finally succeed.
The walk from the library to Bradley’s office is short. I weave through the sidewalk traffic, passing Sinner’s Playground tattoo parlor. Music drifts out, catching my attention for a moment.
A man sings about losing a love that was never his, how he’d kill the version of himself if he could go back. He sings that he shouldn't have loved her, and her betrayal made him want to die. He wasn’t meant for happiness because the price he paid—his soul—was too steep.
My heart breaks for a man who loves like that. To feel that kind of pain is unbearable.
I couldn’t imagine living that. I’m thankful to Bradley. We’ve been together nine years, and when he proposed, I knew he was it for me. It didn’t take long to say yes. Now, five months from our wedding, I’m ready to spend my life with him.
A horn honks, snapping me back. I’m not sure how I made it this far, so spaced out.
The tall building before me casts a shadow that makes me nauseous.
Why are the lights off except in Bradley’s office? He said everyone was staying late to help with an important case.