Did it make me a prick that not so long ago I loved this shit, too, and now I wanted to throw everyone’s asses to the curb?
No question, I loved all the guys. They were my brothers. There for me through everything. I mean, with all the shit with Kallie going down, that bogus trial they had to sit in on—I couldn’t thank any of them enough.
They’d rallied.
Supported me when I needed them most.
Stepped up and acted like men when they preferred to stay firmly in the realm of juvenile delinquent. Not that I had the right to say much about that. God knew my ass was just as guilty, every chance I got dipping my toes in a murky vat of sin.
But I couldn’t escape the feeling I was outgrowing this.
Images of Shea and Kallie swirled through my mind.
Some things just meant more.
Looking for Ash, I worked my way through the groups mingling around the oversized living room overlooking the sprawling city below, a twinkle of lights as far as the eye could see. Beyond the wall of sliding glass doors was the pool, water making a slow transition from blue to purple to pink and back again. Overeager women hung around it with cocktail glasses dripping from their fingers, doing more of that schmoozing that ensured my gag reflex was indeed intact.
Ash was hanging out just inside where those doors sat, throwing back a shot. Katrina, a chick who’d made her rounds through the band one too many times, was tacked to his side like a three-day itch.
“Ash,” I said, not able to contain some of the irritation from bleeding through.
He paid no mind I was annoyed.
“Baz, dude, it’s about damned time you got here. Karl Fitzgerald has been waiting for you in your office for the last…like thirty minutes. He showed up stating he wants a…” Ash lifted both his hands in the air, shot glass still clasped in one hand as he air quoted, “‘word’ with you. Talk about a fuckin’ buzz kill. Here I am, entertaining all these beautiful ladies.”
He stretched his tattooed arms out wide, like if given the chance, he’d take every last one of them. Asshole probably would. No question, they’d all come running.
“Doorbell rang and here I’m thinking I’m going to open it to another gorgeous girl, and there stood that slimy bastard, asking for you. Almost shut the door in his face, but I wasn’t so sure how well that reception would be accepted. Figured it was time to play nice with the money-man. I’ll leave the getting us in hot water up to you.”
He shot me a wink, and I cut off my laughter. God, Ash was nothing but outrageous.
But he sure as shit got that much right.
Slimy bastard asking for a word.
That’s the way the Mylton Records CEO always staged himself, showing up in moments when we were least expecting him, ready to assert whatever control he wanted over us. Sometimes I wished they’d have just cut us free back when the assault charges were hanging over my head.
But thinking like that? That was no less than a betrayal to my crew. A disregard to the blood and sweat and fucking turmoil we’d trudged through to get here.
Disrespect to Mark.
I owed all of them my loyalty.
“Thanks, man,” I told him. “I’ll see what he wants.”
He gave me a salute. “Not a problem.”
I turned back into the crowd, Ash’s amused voice hitting me from behind. “Kiss some ass for me.”
“Not a chance,” I hollered back, shaking my head as I shouldered through the crowd, sending out a few hellos to people I knew and diligently avoiding those I didn’t, because I was in no mood to be making friends. Especially those of the female orientation.
Fuck, Shea was the best. A girl unlike any I’d ever met. Sure, she’d shown a couple flashes of jealousy, which was hotter than all hell the way she wanted me only for herself. But even sexier than that was the astonishing faith she placed in me, the way she sent me off to live the life I love.
Music.
She knew that’s where I was free. What I was created to do.
Even though leaving her and Kallie behind was the most excruciating thing I’d ever had to do.