Treat Me (One Night with Sole Regret 8)

don’t care either way, I just want Adam gone. And not temporarily. For good.”

Owen shook his head. “What’s wrong with you? I’m sure he’ll explain everything when he gets back. He deserves a second chance.”

“A second chance?” Shade asked, finding it difficult to draw air. Were these guys really so clueless to what had been going on with Adam for years?

Owen nodded. As did Kellen. Gabe had his gaze trained on the floor.

“He’s already had a hundred second chances,” Shade said. “Or more! He’s gone too far this time. I’m not putting up with his shit anymore. So if you won’t get rid of him, then I’m out of here.”

“What?” Gabe’s head snapped up, his disbelieving stare forcing Shade to look away.

“There’s the door,” Owen said, pointing toward the front of the bus with his thumb.

Shade gaped at Owen. He supposed Owen was still pissed that he’d called him a spineless wuss, but Owen shouldn’t push. Not right now. Shade wasn’t fucking around. He was through with Adam, and if these guys wanted to side with a train-wreck of a recovering junkie, then Shade was through with the band entirely. He would not back down this time. Enough was enough.

“So Owen chooses Adam over me,” Shade said. “What about you, Kellen? I’m sure you’ll go along with whatever Owen says since you can’t live without each other.”

“Fuck you, Jacob,” Kellen said.

Well, there was his answer to that question. He turned to Gabe. Of all of his bandmates, Gabe was the most sensible. He had to see reason. Either Adam had to go or Shade was going. Shade was beyond trying to fix this matter; he refused to compromise. He’d drawn a line on the stage and so far he was the only one willing to cross it. But he had crossed it and for him there was no turning back.

“Don’t do this, Jacob. It isn’t worth it,” Gabe said.

Shade bit his lip and nodded. Gabe wasn’t siding with him either; he’d lost his gamble. Not one of his bandmates was willing to back his decision. So be it. He could find another band to front. Perhaps Adam was the soul of Sole Regret, but Shade was its heart. They might survive without a soul, but without a heart? Good luck with that, traitors.

“I guess this is goodbye then,” Shade said. “Good luck with Adam. He’s only going to drag you down with him. I guess you’ll just have to see it for yourself. I’m through being his buffer. None of you have any idea how bad he can get—you have absolutely no clue. But you’ll figure it out soon enough, and I might have already moved on.”

Shade had struggled alone for years to lift Adam out of the gutter he seemed to prefer, but he wasn’t going to be there to help cover up Adam’s dark reality from the rest of the band any longer. Or from the public. It wouldn’t take long for them to realize Shade was right. He just had to wait this out and they’d be begging him to come back. And Sole Regret could have its future success without Adam. It was the only way they’d survive.

Shade grabbed the overnight bag he’d yet to unpack and headed to the front of the bus. He tapped Tex on the arm. “Stop the bus,” he said.

Tex looked up at him eyes wide. “Here? Are you fucking nuts? We’re miles from the next town,” he said in his heavy Texas twang.

And the walk would do Shade some good. “I said stop the bus,” he said more firmly.

Tex eased the bus over onto the highway’s shoulder. It shuddered to a stop, idling loudly as a semi zipped past with a loud blare from its horn.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Gabe asked.

“I’m leaving.”

“Be reasonable, Jacob.” Gabe laid a hand on Shade’s shoulder, but Shade shrugged it off. “We can work through this. Stay. Let’s talk about it.”

“Open the door,” Shade said to Tex.

The door creaked as it swung open, and Shade took the steps to the roadside before he could change his mind. He didn’t want to leave, he had to leave. If he didn’t, his bandmates wouldn’t think he was serious. They’d think he’d get over Adam’s massive fuck-up after he cooled down. But Shade was serious, and he wasn’t going to get over it. He was through with Adam, and if the rest of them weren’t, then it was time for him to move on.

“Great fucking plan, Jacob,” Gabe called down to him as he flicked a hand toward the seemingly endless road to nowhere. “This doesn’t solve a goddamned thing.”

Shade ignored him and started walking. He didn’t know if the closest town was ahead or behind, but as far as he was concerned, he could only move forward.

“Jacob!” Gabe called.

“Let him go if that’s what he wants,” Shade heard Kellen say. “God knows he’s a stubborn son of a bitch.”

“He might get hit by a car,” Owen said. Even pissed off, he was still worried about Shade’s safety. Shade shook his head and chuckled under his breath. Some things never changed.

When the bus pulled back onto the highway and drove past him slowly, Shade refused to look at it. A huge chunk of his life was on that bus along with most of his self-worth. Part of him wanted to bend, to admit he was wrong, to beg them to let him back on the bus, but if he did that, nothing would change. And things had to change.

“Fucking Adam,” he grumbled when the taillights disappeared over a hill.

Jacob didn’t find any answers along the deserted roadway. He did find a few blisters on his toes and a seedy motel with a vacancy. He was pretty sure the only occupants of the decrepit rooms had more than two legs and scurried close to the floor. The place was a shithole—a fitting place to reevaluate his life.

After entering his rented room, which smelled like a damp basement coated with stale cigarette smoke, he dropped his bag on the worn green quilt covering one of the beds and flopped back on the other bed to stare at a crack in the ceiling. A surge of emotions caught him so unaware that he gasped aloud.

What have I done?