Rhythm of the Road (Lost Kings MC 16)

“Hey, they’ll be ready for her in fifteen minutes or so,” he informs me before ducking out again.

“Okay.” I pull out my phone and send Jigsaw a text.

Chaser raises an eyebrow but he’s too respectful to ask any questions.

“Meet-and-greet thing. Fucking security is a joke,” I mumble, waiting for a response.

He glances over at Shelby. “Entire industry is different now. I don’t envy her at all.”

“How so?”

“First, she’s probably getting paid peanuts. Don’t get me wrong—suits took advantage of musicians back in my day too, but it’s even worse now. Doubt they’ll cough up much money for shit like security. Or if they do, they’ll take it out of her royalties. She’ll still be paying off her first album when she’s recording her third.”

“Fuck.” My gaze lands on Shelby. I’ve never asked or stuck my nose in the business end of her career…because it’s really not my business. But I fuckin’ hate the idea of anyone taking advantage of her.

“I kept my fingers in the publishing end for a long time. Writing for other artists. Suited me much better. I don’t know what her deal is.” Chaser shrugs. “Some go hybrid and keep more control of their catalog. A tour for a big name like Dawson Roads, she probably has label support of some kind. The exposure they can get her is a blessing but the rest can be a curse.”

“She came off one of those music reality shows.”

He nods. “Yeah, that definitely wasn’t a thing back then. Mallory and I got approached by a bunch of those lowlife reality shows maybe ten, fifteen years ago. Thank fuck we always turned ’em down.”

“Shit.” I shake with laughter. “I could see your dad blowing a gasket, bringing exposure like that to the MC.”

“Right?” He laughs with me. In the biker world, Stump’s not exactly known for his easygoing personality. “The club’s not the only reason we turned ’em down, though.” He tips his head toward Shelby. “If she got her deal that way, I’m sure it’s exploitative as hell. Hope her manager’s got her looking into other streams of income.”

“I’m not sure what he does to earn his keep.”

“Well, you’re not exactly objective either.”

“True.”

Shelby approaches both of us, with Angelina trailing behind her. “I’m sorry, I have to—”

“No problem, sweetheart.” Chaser holds out his hand. “Appreciate you taking the time.”

“You’re more than welcome to hang out here if you want.” She glances around the dressing room. “It’s nothing fancy.”

“We’re fine.” He lifts his chin. “Told Rooster you two have an open invite to stop by the clubhouse while you’re in the area. If you need a place to crash or just want to visit.”

“Thank you.”

He shakes my hand. “Offer extends to Dex and Jigsaw too, obviously. Mallory would love to say hi.”

“Careful. Jiggy will take you up on it for sure.”

Chaser’s jaw twitches. Yeah, maybe that wasn’t the smartest comment. It’s no secret Chaser’s one hell of a vigilant caveman when it comes to his wife.

There’s another knock at the door. “Bet that’s them now,” I say as I twist the knob.

But it’s Dawson.

This dude. Again.

“Hey, Shelby.” He glances at me. “Logan, good to see ya tonight.” His gaze shifts to Chaser and Angelina, lingering on Angelina too long for Chaser’s taste if his narrow-eyed expression is any indication.

Fuck, this could get awkward.

“Hey, Dawson.” Shelby threads her arm through Angelina’s. “These are our friends, Angelina and Chaser—”

Dawson shakes himself out of his Angelina-induced trance. “Chaser? Chaser Adams.” He squints at Chaser. “I bought a few songs from you in my early days.” He grins wide and sticks out his hand.

“Sure did.” Chaser quickly shakes his hand and motions to Angelina. “My daughter and I were just heading out. Thank you, Shelby.”

Dawson actually tips his baseball cap to Angelina as she brushes past him. Thank fuck Chaser’s already out of the room.

Shelby tosses me a wide-eyed what-just-happened expression, and I shrug.

“Did you need something, Dawson?” I ask to get his attention off Angelina’s ass.

“Huh. Oh, yeah.” He throws a quick scowl my way. “Shelby, you up for another song with me tonight?”

“Oh my gosh. Yes! Yes, of course. Thank you.”

“Apparently, it got some good play in the press, and, well, you know.” He shrugs. Big name or not, sounds like Dawson has to answer to higher-ups too.

Honestly, it eases my annoyance with the guy. Seems like he’s giving her the opportunity to appease his record label, not to get in her pants. It’d be nice if he was doing it purely to help out a fellow artist but I’m not dumb enough to think that’s the way this business works. Plus, I’m impressed he came to ask her himself instead of sending one of his minions.

“All right. I’ll see you later.” He ducks out, closing the door behind him.

“Sorry,” Shelby says. “I thought we’d get to spend more time after my set—”