Chapter 26
The next morning, we arrived in Portland and, after an early lunch where I sat as far from my band members as possible and avoided eye contact, Mick asked to have a word with me.
Because Mick was usually softhearted and secretly sweet with me while staying gruff with the guys, I figured he was going to ask me about the breakup and offer me comfort.
As we walked around the side of the bus, I tightened my jacket around my frame, grateful that our road crew had returned it to me, and I told myself maybe I did have a friend out here after all…even if Mick was more like a father figure.
I couldn’t have been more wrong. “Is it true you decked Randy last night?”
Randy. The douchebag drummer in Ashen Retribution. “Yeah…but he had it comin’.”
“That may be…but did you know he’s considering suing you?”
I started laughing, even though the thought of being sued was terrifying. “Are you kidding? He’s whining about my reaction after he asked if I was on my period?”
Mick’s expression softened a bit. “He did?”
“Yeah—and that was after other insulting shit. They are constantly saying nasty things to me. Those guys are dicks.”
“That may be—but you can’t go around punching them. You should have brought it to me and I could have handled it.”
“Yeah. And then they would have teased me about not being able to fight my own battles. I can’t win with those guys—and I don’t regret it.
” Mick let out a long sigh—and inspiration hit me.
“You know what? I’d kinda like to have him sue me, so the whole world knows a girl decked him and made him cry. It might be good publicity.”
Mick grinned. “I can see how that would be tempting—but their TM isn’t the happiest guy, either, and I have to deal with him a lot…so would you apologize to him—as a favor to me?”
I gave it two beats and then said, “Fine. But only because you asked.”
“Good. Now I have another question.”
“Okay.”
“What the hell happened with you and the guys last night? Did you punch all of them too?”
Despite the reminder of my aching heart, I laughed again. “No. Of course not. But they probably deserved it to.”
“What the hell’s going on? The guys aren’t saying shit.”
I could have lied…but I trusted Mick completely and I thought he’d understand.
Still, I wasn’t about to admit that I’d just found out Zack was fucking around on me.
A lot. And I didn’t want to find out if Mick had known about it all along too.
“I broke up with Zack last night—but he and Braden had a huge argument right before the show because Zack’s behavior has gotten to all of us. ”
“I guess I saw that one comin’.”
I gave a short nod, looking around the parking lot. “While we’re on the subject, can I change hotel rooms?”
The understanding in his eyes seemed to confirm he wished he’d thought to ask me that already. “Do you want your own room?”
For two seconds, I considered saying yes—until I realized that would also give Zack his own room, and I sure as hell didn’t want to make it easier for him to get laid. “No. It’ll save money if I share with someone. Can Cy and I swap again?”
“Have you already asked him?”
“No.”
“Okay. I’ll take care of it.”
And that he did. When everyone had boarded the bus before heading to the hotel for an early check-in, Mick walked to the back.
He didn’t ask questions or mince words. Instead, he said, “You,” pointing to Zack and then Cy, “and you are gonna be sharing a room.” Then he pointed at Braden.
“And Dani’s gonna be back in your room again.
If you have questions, you can shove ‘em up your ass.”
And he strode to the front of the bus without hesitation. I heard either Zack or Cy mutter something and I didn’t care which one did it or what they said—especially if it was Zack. Mick was once again looking out for me…and so I needed to return the favor.
That afternoon, I waited around after our soundcheck for Ashen Retribution to arrive for theirs.
I’d been thinking about how to approach apologizing and I was grateful for having to deal with that problem, because it kept my mind off Zack and my treasonous bandmates.
Braden had tried talking to me once and I could feel Zack attempting eye contact, but I wasn’t giving in to either of them.
At some point, I’d have to deal with them—but I wanted to cool down and finish processing it all.
And, of course, I had to deal with the apparently litigious drummer of Ashen. The problem was I didn’t regret punching him. Not one bit. Every guy in that band deserved that and more and maybe the women in their lives (if there were any) put up with their shit, but I would not.
So I waited just off stage as their road crew assembled their instruments and, finally, they arrived. I’d been on my phone scrolling through our band’s socials so it wouldn’t look like I was dying to talk to them—but they had to know I was there for a reason.
When I looked up, I would have sworn that the entire band was looking at me differently…but was that because they thought I was a crazy, unhinged, PMS-ing woman or was it because I’d stood up for myself and maybe I’d earned a modicum of respect?
I’d probably never know.
“Randy, can I talk to you for a second?”
It was all I could do not to smile, because—underneath the stubble—his jaw displayed a visible purplish bruise…
where my ring had connected. Seeing it, I realized maybe I had actually hurt him and, even though I believed he’d had it coming, I felt bad that I’d lashed out.
I knew in my heart of hearts as I allowed myself to remember bits of my early childhood that the fist had been my father’s way of communicating his displeasure.
I didn’t want to be that person. And I also knew that my reaction had been more than anger at Randy’s comment.
It had also been all the negative emotions I’d been unable to dispel with close to an hour of drumming for our show the night before.
Yeah, these assholes were nuisances, but the force behind my fist had been driven by rage at my bandmates—at Zack, for his betrayal, and at Cy and Braden for their reluctance to enlighten me.
His bandmates said nothing but kept heading toward the stage and Randy stayed behind. It was a good start. Of course, he had to save face. “Were you wanting to deck me on the right side too?”
“No. I actually wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have hit you…and I’m sorry.”
His brown eyes seemed to soften—but that must have been my imagination. Or was it? In my mind, the five men of Ashen had seemed two-dimensional—but I had really hurt this guy. Not his jaw, so much, but perhaps his pride?
He seemed to consider it but still didn’t say another word.
So I kept talking. Despite my questionable beginnings with Once Upon a Riot, having known nothing about drumming but working hard and figuring it out—and even going beyond what Zack would have me doing—I knew I belonged there.
“I earned my place on that stage fair and square and it has nothing to do with being a woman.”
I could practically see so many emotions swimming through his dark eyes like fish behind glass—and I suspected I’d never know a single one of them. He finally said, “I don’t know why you didn’t hit Derek—he’s the one who’s always saying shit to you.”
I wasn’t going to correct him—all of them had gotten in plenty of verbal jabs over the last few weeks.
But I realized then that maybe he hadn’t been quite as obnoxious as the rest. “You just happened to be the last straw. And, again, I’m sorry.
” And, even though I knew he wouldn’t take it, I stuck out my hand.
Shockingly, he took it so we could shake—and practically crushed my hand, making me wonder how the hell my tiny hand had done that much damage to his jaw. Of course, it was the big ring that was biting into my other fingers as he shook my hand. “You are a good drummer.”
When he let go, I said, “Yeah—same. You guys are fucking amazing out there night after night.”
Lowering his voice, he said, “Bleak Viper makes us all look better.” And, with that, he turned and walked through the open doorway up the stairs to the stage.
I heard his bandmates giving him shit and, as I walked down the hall, I thought I might have heard more bullshit about “girls,” but it was like water off a duck’s back.
I had far bigger mountains to scale.
It wasn’t until the next night, back in Seattle, that I spoke to anyone in my band.
It was Braden—hard to avoid, now that we had a hotel room together. Still, I tried prolonging the silence. Curling up on my bed after showering and putting on the t-shirt and sweatpants I slept in, I tried reading an ebook on my phone.
But Braden said, “Hey, Dani. Can we talk?”
And there came the vitriol. “Now? You want to talk now? You had plenty of time to tell me what the hell was going on before. Why do you want to say anything to me now?” I hadn’t raised my eyes from my phone and I wasn’t about to.
He was silent for a while but he finally said, “I guess I deserve that. And I could sit here and tell you all the reasons why I didn’t tell you but that doesn’t change the fact that I probably should have.” There was something about his voice that made me look up.
Genuine remorse.
It was a quality Zack’s voice had lacked that night in San Francisco in my dressing room.
“I’m sorry.”
Putting down my phone, I sat up and shifted so that my legs hung over the side of the bed. My voice was gentle when I asked, “So why didn’t you say anything?”
“Jesus. There were a million reasons, depending on the day. I…care about you, Dani, and I didn’t want you to be hurt. And Cy and I kept ragging on him, and every time he’d swear it was the last time.”
“Yeah, well…Zack’s proven he’s a hell of a liar.”
“Yeah, but I believed him several times until he proved it was just lip service. And then, every time I considered telling you, I chickened out—and I wondered what would happen if I told you. Would the band split in the middle of the tour? Would you even believe me?”
He was staring down at his hands, struggling to get the words out as I absorbed them. Unlike heartless Zack, Braden was completely torn up for his complicity.
And I couldn’t stay mad at him.
“I forgive you.” When he lifted his face, those warm light brown eyes of his reminded me of a puppy, sad that he’d made his master angry and wanting nothing more than love and affection.
Braden truly was a kind and gentle soul, and I was so fucking angry at Zack again for putting him in this position.
Letting out a long sigh, I reached out and took his hands in mine.
“Just, for the record, know that I’d rather you risk hurting my feelings than leave me in the dark. ”
“Yeah, I know. I won’t do it again.”
And, unlike Zack, I believed Braden one-hundred percent.