Chapter Six #2
“Look, Thomas is gone, I don’t give a single shit where he went—he’s dead to me.
” He swallowed against the anxiety tightening his throat.
Like, really dead, guys. “But we still have a tour on the line. Shay wrote most of our songs. He knows how we play; he has stage presence and name-recognition. Yeah, he’s a tool, but he could be our tool if we utilize him,” Aiden said.
He chewed on the inside of his cheek, turning his attention to Jacob. “You know I’m right, Jake.”
Jacob sipped his espresso. “Can we trust him?”
“No,” Georgia barked.
Dylan offered a small smile. “Nope.”
“Give me an option as good as this one,” Aiden said. “ Any option.”
Jacob Hill remained thoughtfully stoic. He ran his big hand over his salt-and-peppered stubble and tucked his amber-tinted glasses into his shirt pocket.
Georgia shook her head at Aiden, disbelief folding her expression into another fierce snarl. “You were just talking about how much you despise him,” she whispered, glancing at the counter where Shay waited for his drink. “Or have you conveniently forgotten that he put a knife in our back?”
Ironic . “I hear you, okay? I get it. But he’s our best shot at making this tour work. He’s our only shot.”
She went quiet, mouth pinched, shoulders pulled taut, then she exhaled, sinking lower in her seat. “I hate this.”
“I do, too,” Aiden said.
“Aiden’s right, though,” Dylan chimed in. “Shay’s got the pipes, he’s got the looks, he’s got the following, and he knows the tunes. I vote yes. For now, at least.”
“This can’t be for now ,” Jacob said. He set his elbows on the table as Shay took the seat between Aiden and Dylan.
“Look at me, Bennett—I’m serious, look at me.
” Shay lifted his face and met Jacob’s eyes.
“This’ll be a three-year contract. I want your signature in blood, you understand?
You fuck us over again, I’ll throw you off a building and leave you on skid row with two broken legs. Is that clear?”
Shay sighed, relieved. “Sure, crystal.”
“Good. Apologize to your bandmates.”
Now, that was a curveball Aiden hadn’t expected. He flashed his teeth, grinning horribly.
Shay flexed his jaw. Knuckles paled around his to-go cup. He cleared his throat and looked at Georgia first. “I’m sorry,” he said, exhaling sharply through his nose. “What I did was beyond shitty, but it’s what I had to do.”
“We’ve been here before, me and you,” Georgia said. Her lace shawl drooped over her shoulder, revealing a floral half-sleeve. “If you could do it again, would you take it back? ”
Shay shook his head. “If I took it back, we wouldn’t be here right now. I made the necessary plays to become someone , to get somewhere. Fuck, anywhere. Leaving Knight’s Blood was a part of that transition.”
“ Transition ,” Aiden mocked, snorting. “Get off your high horse, princess.”
“Harsh, Shay. Real harsh,” Dylan said.
“I’m sorry, I am. But that’s the truth,” Shay said. “I made a move to further my career.”
“Careful, hot shot. You were still Chain Reaction’s replacement singer.
Past tense. You ain’t shit yet, but you’re on your way.
I can’t deny that,” Jacob said. “Listen, if we do this, we do it right. We treat this tour like a homecoming. Bittersweet reunions, empowerment, getting back to your roots, yada yada. Are we all on board with that?”
“Fine,” Aiden said.
Dylan nodded.
Reluctantly, Georgia nodded, too. “I want a copy of his contract.”
“Everyone’ll get a copy,” Jacob assured. He lifted his phone to his ear and stood, circling his hand in the air above their table. “Rehearsal tonight, dipshits. Don’t be late. Aiden, bring pizza.”
Shit . He still needed to pay rent. “Yeah, okay,” Aiden said. “Be there at seven?”
“Five, you idiot. You’re twenty-four hours out from the second stop on an impromptu national tour.
We’re rehearsing as much as possible.” He jabbed his finger at Shay.
“You’ll need a makeover. Dye your hair, pierce your face, figure it out.
” Shay bared his fangs. Hard laughter shook Jacob’s shoulders and he hollered, “What are you supposed to be, Manson’s wet dream? Do more!”
People at nearby tables craned, tracking Jacob as he left the café. Tension brewed. Georgia picked at her short, crimson fingernails, and Dylan re-tied his ponytail. Shay traded his cup from one hand to the other, eyes heavy on the tabletop.
Well, Jacob didn’t break a chair over Shay’s face and Georgia didn’t punch him in the dick, and the band was a band . Aiden called it a win.
Aiden nudged Georgia’s shin, and asked, “Did you wire us our cut from the show?”
“I cashed the check. I’ve got your. . . third,” she said, laughing bitterly. “Thomas ran off before I could pay him. Looks like we’re getting a bonus.” Her dark eyes flicked to Shay. “Speaking of which, how’s the money in sellout land?”
“You’re about to find out.” Shay sipped his coffee and turned toward the window.
“Guess you’re right,” Dylan said. He slapped his palm on Shay’s shoulder. Always the goddamn peacekeeper. “Glad to have you back, Bennett.”
Finally, Shay cracked a smile. He glanced at Aiden, a fleeting, purposeful look. “Yeah, it’s good to be back.”