Just One Spark (The Kingston Family 4)

Xander grabbed her hand. “Don’t give him any ideas.” He turned to Dash. “Remember what I said. If you need me, you call.”

“I will.”

“Take care, Dash.” Sasha kissed his cheek, and Cassidy softened toward her friend, who, just minutes before, had been worried about Cassidy’s involvement with him. In her own way, Sasha was looking out for them both.

Sasha waved and walked out with Xander, leaving Cassidy alone with the brooding rock star.

“I don’t deserve them, you know.”

And those words proved her right. He was in self-flagellation mode. Suffering from survivor’s guilt. She understood, but he needed to put it behind him, and she wasn’t sure how to get him to do that.

“Of course you deserve your family. You give as much as they do,” she said.

“By doing a couple of meet and greets because I feel guilty that I lived and Billy didn’t?” His voice sounded tortured.

She braced her hands on either side of his face. “By being there when they need you. Why do you hang out at Xander’s?”

“Because I like bugging my brother.”

She shook her head. “Because Xander’s a loner, and before Sasha came back, you didn’t want him to hole up in his Hamptons retreat by himself. You look out for him. So stop torturing yourself about something you cannot change.” She waited for him to nod, and only then did she release her hold.

He began to pace the floor in front of the door, and she let him do his thing until he spun around. “What did Sasha say to you? Did she tell you I’m a bad bet? To run?”

“What? Of course not.” Sasha had told her to be careful, but she wasn’t about to repeat those words to Dash. Distracting him was in order. Until he truly faced his past and the damage done and accepted what he couldn’t change, he’d continue to torment himself. “Why don’t you try to call Dean again?”

“Good idea.” He whipped his phone from his pocket and speed-dialed the man who was his manager. For now.

* * *

After the band’s Zoom call with Naomi, Dash paced the studio, where he and the band had holed up to talk. During the chat, Dash had to sit through a reiteration of yesterday’s events and suck up Naomi’s idea to set things right. He didn’t want to sit down with an interviewer, friendly or not, but he agreed it was the right thing to do. Naomi knew how to juggle the publicity machine for the band, and she’d never steered them wrong, so he’d given her the go-ahead to set something up. But he still needed to know where everyone in the band stood.

He turned to the guys who had always supported him and vice versa, and though new to the group, Axel had been solid since he’d joined. Which meant Dash owed them. He needed to fix the PR mess he’d created along with his own reputation.

He rubbed his hands on his faded jeans and looked at his friends. “Umm … I’m sorry to bring this shit down on the band.” He wasn’t comfortable with serious, emotional conversation with the guys, but this situation was an exception.

“Life happens,” Jagger said. “We all know it. None of us are perfect choirboys.”

“What he said,” Mac muttered.

Axel, who had better reasons than the other men to be wary of him, studied him for a beat. During the video call, Cassidy had sat by Dash’s side, and it was obvious she was there as more than the band’s assistant.

Though she did her job, as evidenced by the sandwiches and drinks that had been delivered to the studio, she’d supported him. Both with his family this morning and during the call, and he appreciated it more than he could say. She hadn’t signed up for his mess, and if she ran, he wouldn’t blame her.

“We’ll all get through it together,” Axel said at last, breaking into Dash’s negative thoughts.

Considering the warning his drummer had given regarding his sister, Dash was impressed with Axel’s attitude toward him.

“It’s going to blow over,” the man continued. “Like Naomi said, twenty-four-hour news cycle and all that. Someone else will do something stupid and those idiots outside will move along and bother someone else.”

Dash hoped he was right. “Either way, I think the interview is a good move for me. Anyone have any objections to me sitting down alone and digging into my past?” They usually did interviews as a group, and though Dash often directed the conversation, they were a unit and he respected that.

“You do your thing. Personally, I don’t think you owe anybody shit, so if you want to sit on your ass or twiddle your thumbs, go for it. The band’s music will ultimately be what matters. But if you want to tell your side and get it off your chest, I respect that, too.” Mac said, as he plucked at the strings on his bass guitar, outlining the notes of a recognizable chord.