Fade Into You (Shaken Dirty 3)

She might be terrified of him and the feelings that were growing between them despite her best intentions, but she was even more terrified for him.

“I’m fine,” he said, pulling away from her both physically and emotionally. As he did, she realized for the first time just how much he’d let her in since their first meeting. It left her feeling bereft, though she knew it was stupid. After all, she’d known him less than a week.

But she’d known of him a lot longer than that, had been emotionally invested in him pretty much from the moment she’d first discovered Shaken Dirty. Now that she actually knew him—knew how hurt and how strong he was—she was a million times more invested. Which was why she had to keep pushing.

“You sure?” she asked, wrapping her hand around his bicep and holding him in place as he went to get up. “I know Germaine was awful today. I’m sorry.”

“I already told you, you don’t have to apologize for him. Besides, he didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. I’m not good for the band.”

“Will you stop with that?” she demanded, pulling at his arm until he turned to face her again. “Do you have problems? Yes. Does everyone have problems? Yes. Shaken Dirty wouldn’t be the same without you, and you know it.”

He opened his mouth, and for a second he looked like he was actually going to say something real. She braced herself for it, but in the end he just shrugged off her hand and headed for the front door. The asshole.

“You don’t get to do that,” she said, rushing to stand in front of him. “You don’t get to spend the afternoon worrying a

ll of us, then barge in here and make me come, and then just get the hell out the second things turn uncomfortable for you. That’s not how this shit works.”

“That’s exactly how it works. If you don’t believe me, just ask the others. It’s what I’ve been doing for years—I mean, not the making them come part obviously, but the show up, fuck things up and then disappear thing…yeah. That’s pretty much my modus operandi. If you don’t like it, then you’re welcome to go running back to the label.”

“What do you care what I do, considering you’re no longer part of the band or the label?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You don’t actually think that reverse psychology bullshit is going to work on me, do you?”

“Honestly, I don’t know what’s going to work on you! You’re so busy seeing yourself as the villain that you don’t see the man everybody else does. Have you made mistakes? Yes. Are you the only person on the planet to make mistakes? Not even close. So stop beating yourself up about it and get your shit together. Because Shaken Dirty is going on tour in a few weeks, and you know as well as I that they won’t do it without you.”

“Don’t you get it? That’s the whole point! That’s why I have to be the one to walk away. Because they are so blindly, stupidly loyal, that they won’t. And it’s just a matter of time before I fuck up again! I already cost them nine million dollars and a huge hit to their careers. I don’t want to be responsible for anything else happening to them, and I sure as shit don’t want them in the crossfire when I mess up.”

“You think they’re the only stupidly loyal people in this band? You’re the one willing to quit preemptively, just so you don’t hurt them anymore. If that’s not loyalty, I don’t know what is.”

“Better I quit now than fuck up again and ruin everything.”

“You know, you’re an addict. You’re not Satan. And if you want to protect them, don’t do drugs again. Don’t drink. Make the choice not to put them in this position again. It really is that simple.”

For long seconds, he didn’t say anything. He just stared at her as he processed what she’d said. As she waited for him to speak, she prayed that she’d gotten through to him. Prayed that he would acknowledge, for one second, how valuable he was to this band. Because if he did that, if he was willing to believe that, maybe she had a chance of convincing him how valuable he was as a person.

She didn’t know what he’d gone through in the past, before Shaken Dirty started to blow up. All she knew was that it was bad. Based on what Quinn had said, and how fucked up Wyatt’s self-esteem was, she knew it couldn’t be anything but. Which was why she’d spent the hours since Quinn left scouring the internet, trying to figure out just what had happened to him.

She hadn’t found it yet, but she would. She was determined to. She had to if she was going to fight to get through to him, going to fight for him. Every instinct she had told her Wyatt hadn’t had enough people in his life willing to do that.

Eventually, he threw himself out of the chair, his face a mask of torment and self-doubt as he crossed to the sliding glass door that led to a balcony that overlooked downtown Austin. “You make it sound so easy,” he said, as he stared out at the cars fighting their way through the streets.

“Of course it isn’t easy. If it were, you wouldn’t be in this position to begin with. But you think your bandmates deserve everything they’ve got, right?”

“Of course they do.” His voice was firm, without doubt. “They’ve worked their asses off for everything we have.”

“Well, then, if you can’t or won’t fight for yourself right now, fight for them. And keep fighting, every day, so that Jared and Quinn and Ryder get everything that you think they deserve.”

He shook his head, and she could tell he was going to refute what she’d told him. Could tell he was going to come up with another reason as to why he wasn’t good enough. Why he couldn’t be trusted. And it made her crazy.

Before she could think better of it, before she could even try to choose her words with care, she exploded. “Jesus, Wyatt. Wake up and look around you. You’ve got a really good chance here to turn your life around, and everyone—with the exception of the label douchebags—is behind you. You should be ready to take on the world. Or at least not so hell-bent on cataloging your sins that you’re hiding from it. Can’t you see—”

“I went to a bar today,” he interrupted. “I ordered a tequila.”

For a moment, just a moment, it felt like the whole world had frozen, as all her hopes and fears came crashing down around her at the same time.

She tried to think of what she was supposed to say to that, of how she was supposed to convince him to try yet again. But then she looked at him, really looked at him, and she knew.

“You might have ordered that tequila,” she whispered, “but you didn’t drink it.”