Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

HENDRIX

I'd been so damn excited when Zion called to tell me a scout from a major label approached him. Broadcast Recordings was a huge deal, and they produced a lot of big names. I didn't know those contracts were so messed up, though. Zion told me the contract was fine, but he didn't have time to show it to me until tonight, before the gig. I was going to go over it, but I'll admit I was so excited I probably wouldn't have taken in much past the fact that they were interested.

I wanted so badly to make it big. The whole band did. But Art wouldn't be telling me this for nothing. He was our biggest fan, and he wanted us to succeed. He wouldn't fight a contract without good reason.

"Can you show me?"

He nodded, moving until we were shoulder to shoulder so he could point out the points in the contract he didn't like. It was all complicated legal jargon, but Art explained it in a way I could understand. They used complicated language to make it look like a good deal, but when it came down to it, Art was right. We wouldn't even get five percent of our earnings, and that had to be split between the whole band. And the loyalty clause was fucking binding. We'd belong to the label and be stuck with them for life. They even had a say on what we produced. They could make us play stuff that didn't fit our sound and if we refused, they'd charge us.

Letting out a heavy sigh, I dropped my head a little. Art put his hand against my shoulder, an apologetic look on his face.

"I'm so sorry, Hendrix. I really want you to get signed with a label, but I didn't want you stuck with something you'd regret."

"I know. You're not at fault here. This asshole knew what he was doing, approaching us. We want this so bad, we wouldn't have had the balls to negotiate. Thank you for telling me."

From the sounds of it, the band ahead of us was finishing up. We didn't have much time between sets to switch out instruments and get things set up, so we didn't have time to mess around. I took Art's hand, pulling him through the crowd where the band was still talking to the scout. Handing the scout back his contract, I shook my head.

"Sorry, but we aren't going to sign this. We appreciate your consideration."

Most of the band looked confused, shooting me questioning looks. I tipped my head towards the back. "We gotta get on stage. We'll talk about this later. Come on."

Art squeezed my hand, waving his hand toward the bar. "I'm going to see if my spot is still there. I'll see you after, okay?"

I let him go, my expression tight as I turned to head backstage again. Weatherby grabbed my arm, masking his scowl with a tense smile. "Surely we can talk about this? If you've got questions about the contract, I can go over it with you, maybe make things a little clearer."

The eyes of the band pinged between me and Weatherby. I jerked my arm away from him, stepping out of range.

"We've gotta get on stage. Thanks, but no thanks."

Without another word, I walked away from him, my bandmates following closely behind me.

"What the hell was that?" Zion snarled.

"What happened, Hen? What changed your mind?" Laz asked at the same time.

I shook my head. "I'll explain after the show. Let's just say Art found a lot to be wanted in that contract. The asshole was ripping us off. We'll find something better. Let's just go out there and rock this, yeah?"

Zion looked petulant, his arms crossed over his chest, but I ignored him. I wasn't changing my mind just to appease him. I'd explain the contract to him after the show. Art mentioned that they wrote the contract to seem like a good deal. Zion just didn't understand yet. And we couldn't keep everyone waiting long enough for me to explain.

Heading onto the stage, I took a few deep breaths. I'd just finished up my meditation when Art texted me, but all that calm focus was crushed under the disappointment. I wasn't at all in the right headspace, and it was going to take a considerable amount of effort for that not to show during the gig. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and gave my focus to the crowd. The stage lights weren't on yet, the band still setting up, which meant they didn't blind me to anything past the front row yet. I saw first hand when Weatherby grabbed Art, yanking him closer with a scowl on his face.

The sound of the band behind me, the noise of the crowd as they got excited for the next show, it all fell away. All I could hear was white noise, a snarl echoing into the mic that I was standing in front of. I was off the stage and barreling through the crowd before I knew what I was doing. The only thing I could process was the fear on Art's face.

ART

While the band headed backstage, I went back to the bar. I still felt guilty, and when I slid onto the stool at the bar, Aliyah stopped in front of me with a frown.

"That looked intense. Is everything okay?"

I nodded, but I didn't explain. I wasn't sure if that was my place or not, and I didn't want to embarrass them or anything. It wasn't the band's fault they were targeted by a scammer. Aliyah offered me another drink, but I shook my head. My stomach was still upset and adding alcohol to the mix sounded like a bad idea.

The first band was just heading off stage when a rough hand grabbed my shoulder, spinning me around on my stool. I jerked back, surprised, and came face to face with Mr. Weatherby.

"What the fuck did you say to him?"

My heart thundered in my chest and I eased back on my stool to put some space between us.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bullshit," he snapped. "They were all ready to sign until you pulled the vocalist aside. Are you a lawyer or something?"

"No, I'm an accountant."

I don't know why I said that. He didn't need to know that. And it only seemed to inflame him more. His face got red as he shouted at me, drawing the attention of the people around us.

"Then you should mind your fucking business! What happens between me and my client is between us!"

"They deserve a fair shot," I argued. "Your contract was basically theft. You're angry right now because your manipulation tactic failed."

Weatherby snorted derisively. "They're gonna fucking hate you when they realize you've ruined their chances at becoming big. No one's gonna hire freaks like them. I was their one shot at fame."

The guilt ate at me, but I lifted my chin, refusing to let the rat see his words had any effect on me. The way he said it was telling, and I knew more than ever that I made the right choice by talking to Hendrix.

"So you think they can't make it because they're paranormal? Did you even plan on giving them a shot? Just because they aren't human doesn't mean they don't deserve a fair shake. Have you even listened to their music? They're good! Really good. They're going to make it one day and they don't need your help to do it."

Weatherby made an irritated sound, shooting me a flat look. "You're fucking delusional."

"And you're a rat. I feel sorry for whoever ends up taking your offer. No one deserved to be treated like that."

Weatherby growled, his face turning red with his anger. I glanced uneasily over his shoulder toward the stage. Hendrix was just off stage, probably getting things set up. He didn't notice the man in front of me.

"Watch your mouth, you piece of shit."

I didn't know what came over me, but I shot back, "Why? You don't want the world to know how you screw over bands who are just looking for a chance? How you hide the fact that you're robbing them blind with fancy legal jargon? People should know who they're dealing with when you come along with your slimy smile. You should be ashamed of yourself."

I probably should have backed off before things got so intense. I wasn't a fighter, by any means. I barely had the muscle to carry Sophie up the stairs. But I'd dealt with bullies all my life. Backing down would only make him feel powerful and he'd double down on the next poor band he set his sights on. I was kind of hoping the crowd surrounding us would deter him, but he didn't seem to care. He grabbed the front of my shirt, dragging me towards him until our faces were inches apart.

"You're gonna regret getting in my way," he hissed. "I'm gonna–"

I didn't see Hendrix coming until he ripped the guy away from me, the force of it tossing Weatherby onto his ass a few feet away. Hendrix placed himself between me and Weatherby, his fury coming off him in waves. He had a crown of fire from his horns and he seemed to swell, making him way more intimidating than the guy I knew. I couldn't see Weatherby with Hendrix between us, but I heard him get to his feet, shrieking at Hendrix.

"You're going to regret this! I'll make sure you never sign with another label! You'll come crying to me eventually and I'll remember this!"

"Oh, go cry to your mommy," Ruby snapped, moving to stand next to Hendrix. Laz and Duncan followed, making an actual wall between me and Weatherby.

It shocked me that they wanted to protect me. No one had ever stood up for me like that before. I heard the murmurs of the crowd, felt their eyes on us, and I flushed from embarrassment. But not even the embarrassment could bypass the swell of emotion in my chest when Laz spoke up.

"You're shit out of luck, asshole. We trust Artie. If he's got a problem with you, then we aren't interested. Touch him again and you'll face all of us. Now fuck off."