Fade Into You (Shaken Dirty 3)

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nbsp; For long seconds, Wyatt didn’t say anything. Not because he didn’t have things to say, but because he didn’t trust himself to be able to say them. For the first time in more years than he could remember, he was afraid that if he opened his mouth, his voice would crack. Afraid that if he unclenched his jaw, he’d end up blubbering like a baby.

He didn’t deserve this loyalty, didn’t deserve this generosity. Not with all the shit he’d pulled through the years. Not with all the mistakes he’d made and all the times he’d fucked them over. Nine million dollars. They’d paid nine million dollars just to keep him around. Him.

The guy who’d been a screwup since he was six years old.

The guy who’d destroyed his family one person at a time.

The guy who couldn’t keep his shit together long enough to make it through a concert, let alone an entire world tour.

And yet here they were. Jared, Ryder, Quinn. Backing him, even knowing it was a sure bet that he was going to fuck up again. Standing by him even though it had already cost them more than they should ever have to pay.

Even his mom had given up on him. Drank herself to death when he and the memories of what he’d done—what he’d failed to do—had gotten to be too much. Why the fuck were they still hanging around?

“I don’t get it,” he finally said, when he thought he had a chance of getting the words out without completely humiliating himself. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

For the first time since he’d walked into the kitchen, they glared at him like he really was a fuck-up. Jared clenched his fist like he was contemplating hitting him again, and Quinn looked like it was taking every ounce of self-control he had not to kick his ass.

“If you can’t figure that out,” Ryder said eventually, “then I don’t know what the hell we’re even doing here.”

He wanted to say what they wanted to hear, wanted to give them the answer they were all waiting for. But he couldn’t do that, because he didn’t get it. He didn’t understand why they would risk everything on him when he’d shown them over and over again that he wasn’t worth it. That he couldn’t be trusted.

Shoving back from the table, he stumbled to his feet, lurched toward the back door and the fresh air that was waiting for him right outside the glass. He felt like he was strangling, his emotions a knot in his chest that kept him from taking in enough oxygen.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he flung the door open and staggered outside. “I’ll pay you back. I’ll pay you all back, I swear. But I can’t do this. I just can’t do this.”

Knowing the guys would be right behind him, he took off for his car, and made it seconds before Ryder, Jared, and Quinn caught up to him. Sorry, he mouthed through the glass as he threw the car in reverse. And then he was speeding down the driveway, away from them, away from Shaken Dirty, away from yet another mess he’d made and didn’t have a clue how to clean up.

Chapter Thirteen

“What the hell was that all about, Caleb?”

“I don’t know. I swear I don’t. Dad ambushed me! When we talked strategy for the call, trying to get Wyatt to quit was never even part of the discussion. He totally came up with it on his own.”

“Are you sure about that?” Poppy asked as she slammed into her apartment. “Because you didn’t seem very shocked that he was out for Wyatt’s blood.”

She’d never been more furious with her father in her life—and that was saying something, considering the kind of stunts the man was known for pulling. But this? Going after Wyatt like that when he was already so vulnerable? Badgering him into quitting the band when it sure as hell appeared that Shaken Dirty was all he had? Making him feel like shit just because he could?

It was despicable, absolutely despicable, especially since the more she’d thought about it, the more she realized it was just her father’s shot at getting a say in band personnel. Unless Shaken Dirty had some strange provision in their contract that she didn’t know about—and she was pretty sure they didn’t—one of the few things the label didn’t have a legal say in was whether the five original members got to stay or go. Oh, they could put pressure on them (and obviously were) and they might have veto power over any replacements to the original members, but that was about it.

So, since her father was pissed that he hadn’t convinced them to get rid of Wyatt when everything went down a couple of months ago, he was flexing his muscles in other ways. The bastard. She knew better than to trust him. But Caleb? She hadn’t seen that coming at all. More fool her.

“Of course I was shocked,” Caleb told her, sounding more than a little annoyed at the question. “The last thing either the label or Shaken Dirty needs is an all out war between us. Not when the tour is set to kick off at ACL the first weekend in October!”

“Which is exactly what I was trying to say! There’s still too much damage that needs to be repaired here for Dad to go off like that. I know you know that, but you sure as hell didn’t seem very intent on stopping him when he was going on about the band having to choose between Wyatt and a decent bassist. And what—”

“In Dad’s defense, Li is a more than decent bassist.”

“That’s true. He’s got good musical chops and he’s reliable, two things a rock bassist has to be. And he’s going to make some band feel really lucky to have him one day. But this isn’t his time, and Shaken Dirty is definitely not his band.

“Besides, the whole conversation was completely ridiculous. Li’s a good bassist, yes. But Wyatt is a brilliant drummer. There’s no way Shaken Dirty would sound the same if they got rid of him—his riffs and fills are the backbone of the whole band, and you’re an idiot if you can’t see that!”

“Hey! Don’t confuse me with Dad. I don’t want to replace Wyatt. I know exactly how talented he is—remember, I’m the one who wanted you there instead of me, to keep him out of trouble in the first place.”

“Yeah, well, after today’s call I’m interested in a lot more than just babysitting.” She pulled her laptop out of her briefcase and settled down on the huge, overstuffed couch that dominated the apartment’s living area. She wanted a chance to go over Shaken Dirty’s contract, to see exactly how much control the band had over its members. She knew the band’s lawyers were probably doing the exact same thing at this exact same moment, but it wouldn’t hurt to have another set of eyes on the contract. Especially when those eyes belonged to someone who knew the label’s weaknesses as intimately as she did.

“I could tell that much from the way he was looking at you today.”