Untamed (Thoughtless #4)

Kellan was the first one who approached me when I climbed onstage. He gave me a hug, then said in my ear, “Ready to kill it?” I nodded and he smacked my shoulder. “Just like old times, huh?”


I shook my head. “No, this will be better than the old times.”

Kellan scrutinized me for a moment, then nodded. As I strapped on my guitar, Evan held his hand out. “Good luck, man.” Grinning, I shook his hand and thanked him.

When he stepped away, Matt approached me. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at me. I started to apologize, since I thought maybe he was still mad, but he held his hand up to stop me. “We’re not allowed to vote, but if I could…I’d vote for you. You’ve been doing amazing, man.”

That moved me more than anything I’d heard from anyone else. I had to swallow the lump in my throat before I could speak. “Thank you…cuz.”

Matt smiled, then smacked me on the back so hard my skin tingled through my shirt. “Now don’t fuck up on camera. You need all the votes you can get.” I flipped him off and he started laughing. The familiar ribbing made me feel better than I had in ages. I finally felt like I belonged here again.

On this particular D-Bags song, the bass started first. Even though my heart was racing, I acted as calm and cool as I could. It’s just another show…not the deciding factor of my entire future. I was a little surprised when I nailed the intro; I usually fucked it up when we played it live. Of course, back in the day, I’d been easily distracted by…well, just about anything. I was focused now though, and I slayed the song. Murdered it in an awesomely gory fashion. It was fucking beautiful.

When the song was over, I raised my fists in the air in victory. The crowd went nuts. Sure, maybe I hadn’t won yet, but a little confidence was always appreciated, so long as I didn’t go overboard. And I wouldn’t. Not anymore.

On the following evening, when Liam and I were backstage waiting for the outcome of our performances from the night before, the surrealism of the moment hit me. Either I was going to win my spot back with the D-Bags, or Liam was. But this was it…it would definitely be one of us.

Seeing the sweat on Liam’s brow, I extended a hand to him. “Hey, I want you to know, if you win…I’m okay with that. I think you’d be a good fit with the D-Bags…maybe even better than me.”

Liam shook my hand, but he eyed me like I was playing him or something. “Who are you, and what have you done with my little brother?”

I laughed at his question. I supposed I did seem like another person…maybe I was. A lot of shitty stuff had happened to me, and I viewed things differently now. But not completely differently. “Oh, I’m still in here, asswipe, and if you do steal my job, I’m giving you a wedgie so deep, you’ll need a doctor to surgically remove the underwear from your ass crack.

A slow smile spread over Liam’s face. “There he is.”

Just then, a person I hadn’t seen in a while approached us. I stood up to greet him. “Hey, Denny, good to see you, man.”

Denny took my hand and shook it, then extended his hand to Liam. “Hi, I’m Denny Harris. My wife and I represent the band.” Liam nodded and Denny’s dark eyes flickered between the two of us. “I just wanted to congratulate you both on how far you’ve come, and wish you both good luck tonight.”

Liam was giddy as he said, “Thanks.” I was more reserved. The last time Denny and I had spoken, I’d been an ass. Seemed to be a pattern with me. “Hey, can I talk to you for a minute,” I told him.

He nodded and we stepped away from Liam. I stared at my feet while I prepared my apology. You’d think I’d be an expert at them by now. “I just wanted to say…sorry I was a prick last time we talked.” I thought to add more, but there really wasn’t any more to add. That pretty much summed it up.

Denny put a hand on my shoulder. “No worries, mate. I’ve already let that go.” When I looked up at him, he smiled. “You seem different,” he told me. “In a good way. I think the audience sees it too.” He glanced over at Liam before looking back at me. “I’d never tell him this, but…you’ve nailed it every time you’ve gone onstage. And you’ve really rallied the country behind you. No small feat, considering how much of a rift you caused when you left.” He patted my arm. “You’ve worked hard, and the guys and I have noticed. We’re all very proud of you.”

My nerves evaporated under his praise. “Thank you. I think I needed to hear that.”

He clapped my shoulder again. “Good luck tonight.”

But after he left, my nerves started creeping back in. This was it…the moment of truth.