Running with Scissors (27 page)

this was close enough to a win. His knees wobbled. He’d

never been good at standing up for himself, and the aftermath

was always a shaking
Oh my God, what the fuck did I just do?

ful -body panic. He needed to walk it off, especially since he

really didn’t want the band to see it.

“I, um . . .” He cleared his throat. “I think
I
need some air this time.”

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He didn’t wait for a response, and nobody tried to stop

him, thank God. He hurried off the bus, picked a direction,

and started walking, and he kept going until he was well out

of earshot because the shouting had started before he’d even

shut the door, and he didn’t want to hear anything more.

At the edge of the parking lot, he found a low chain-link

fence dividing the venue property from another lot. There he

stopped, and rested his hands on top of the fence as he tried

to convince his knees to stop shaking. It was entirely possible the group would change their minds, and the next person he

spoke to would be the one they’d elected to gently send him

packing. Or not so gently.

As the conversation repeated in his head on an infinite

loop, he stood by everything he’d said. It had just been so

damn long since he’d stood up for himself like that, since

he’d put his foot down and taken a risk in the name of not

being a doormat, he didn’t know how to deal with it. How

to come down afterward. How to do anything except stand

here and imagine himself going back in there and begging

all of them to pretend none of that had happened, and that

he was still happy quietly sitting in the back even if it meant being reduced to Jude’s drum tech or a “remember that guy?”

roadie.

But even if he had fucked up his place in Running with

Scissors, he had to admit—it had felt good. Connor had

pushed. A.J. had pushed back. And to his surprise, he’d

had support. Maybe Jude was right. Though it would still be

a while before he felt completely secure in the band, he wasn’t as disposable as he’d convinced himself he was.

After almost two years, it was about damn time.

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hile Connor and Shiloh kept bitching at each other

wabout his superiority complex and her siding with A.J.,

Jude slipped out and went to find A.J. He’d been gone for a

while now, and Jude was starting to get worried.

The lot was deserted aside from a few security guys

strol ing around and the roadies who never seemed to sleep.

He stopped one of the roadies. “Hey, did you guys see

A.J. come through here?”

“Oh yeah.” The roadie pointed toward the south end of

the lot. “He went that way.”

“Great, thanks.” Jude resisted the urge to break into a run.

A.J. hadn’t been gone that long, and he could certainly take

care of himself. But considering how much he’d struggled

with the idea of standing up to Connor, and how much he’d

let fly once he’d done it, he was probably rattled as fuck.

The roadie was right, and Jude found A.J. at the end of the

parking lot. He was pacing beside a chain-link fence, cupping

one elbow and scrol ing through his phone with his free hand.

“
There
you are,” Jude said.

A.J. startled, turning toward him, and then exhaled. He

slid his phone into his back pocket. “Hey. I, uh . . .” He folded his arms. “I guess everyone’s done arguing?”

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“Who knows?” Jude halted when he could nearly touch

him. “They can keep arguing all they want, but I wanted to

check on you.”

“I’m okay. I’m fine.” A.J. started pacing again. “Fuck. I

can’t believe I said all that.”

“Neither could Connor, but he needed to hear it.”

A.J. laughed dryly. “Maybe from someone with a little

more clout than me.”

“To be honest, he could go running to Kristy, and she’d

tell him you were right on the money.”

“Yeah. We’ll see about that.” A.J. stopped pacing and

rubbed his neck with both hands. Now that he was stopped,

Jude realized his knees were shaking.

“Hey, take it easy.” Jude put a hand on A.J.’s shoulder.

“You all right?”

“Yeah, I’m . . .” A.J. shook his head. “Fuck. I shouldn’t

have gotten in his face like that.”

“What? Why?” Jude squeezed A.J.’s shoulder. “Anybody

else probably would’ve hauled off and smacked him.”

“Anybody else isn’t quite as afraid as I am of getting

kicked out.”

“Kicked out? Of the band?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“A.J. My God.” Jude pulled him into a gentle hug. “I

promise, you will not get kicked out for standing up to

Connor. I guarantee you everyone on that bus has done it or

wanted to do it at some point or another.”

“Can’t imagine why.” A.J. scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Jesus. I could seriously just choke that guy sometimes.”

Jude laughed. “You and everybody else. Trust me.” He

wrapped his arms around A.J. and kissed his forehead.

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A.J. leaned against him. “It’s not even that I don’t like the

guy. I actually do like him most of the time. But goddamn,

when he starts acting like that . . .”

“Believe me. I know.” He tipped A.J.’s chin up, and when

their eyes met, they both smiled. “Don’t sweat over it, though.

Even if Connor decided he wanted to throw you out of the

band over it, the rest of us have your back.”

A.J. closed his eyes and slowly released a breath. “Thanks.

For talking me down and for talking me into standing up

to him.”

“Anytime.” Jude kissed him gently. “I don’t want to see

you putting up with—”

A shoe scraped on pavement. A split second too late, Jude

realized neither of them had moved.

Which meant . . .

Oh shit.

A.J. drew back. His eyes darted to the side and past Jude,

and the way he tensed didn’t help the panic that was inching

up Jude’s spine.

Jude cringed. “Please tell me it’s—”

“You have got to be kidding me.” Connor’s voice sent that

panic skittering all the way up to Jude’s hairline.

He let go of A.J. and turned around as Connor stepped

out of the shadows and into the glow of the streetlight.

“Seriously?” Connor glared at them. “You guys just

couldn’t—”

“Connor, we—”

“Don’t even try to tell me it’s not what it looks like.

Because I know what I just saw.”

Jude’s heart sank. Shit. “All right. There’s no point in

lying. Yes, we’re—”

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“You sons of bitches!” Connor came closer, lips pulled

tight across his teeth. “What the fuck? After everything that

happened before, you’re . . . What did you . . .
Fuck
, guys!”

A.J. jumped. Jude resisted the urge to put a hand on his

shoulder because God knew that would only make things

worse.

Connor wasn’t finished, either. “What the hell was all that

bullshit about being devoted to the band now? Not bringing

in any more problems? Christ. I knew it was a fucking mistake

bringing you back, Jude. I fucking knew it. I even told Kristy

it would blow up in our faces. You can play bass, but you’ve

never given two shits about this band, so—”

“Don’t even go there, Connor,” Jude threw back. “Yes, I

fucked up. I know I fucked up. This time and last time. But

don’t you dare tell me I don’t care about this band.”

“You expect any of us to believe you
do
?” Connor locked eyes with him, and the surprise and anger faded in favor of

something that cut much deeper. He wasn’t quite on the verge

of tears—not enough to be visible along the edge of his dark

eyes—but the hurt was there. His clenched teeth couldn’t

hide the hint of unsteadiness as he ground out, “Because your

track record isn’t looking so good.”

Before Jude could reply, Kristy’s voice snapped his teeth

shut: “What the fuck is going on out here?”

He cursed as she appeared behind Connor, along with

Shiloh.

Connor looked over his shoulder and gestured sharply at

A.J. and Jude. “Did you two know they were hooking up?”

“Hooking—” Kristy’s features slowly hardened, barely

contained fury materializing in her eyes and her tightening

lips, but it was Shiloh’s expression that cut Jude right to the bone. Her jaw dropped and her brow creased as she held

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his gaze, her eyes full of pure, unmistakable hurt just like

Connor’s.

“No way,” she whispered. “You didn’t. Please tell me . . .”

He cringed, avoiding her eyes, but he couldn’t avoid that

heavy sigh.

“Jude . . .”

“Spell this out for me,” Kristy growled. “Because I’m

about this close to losing my shit.”

“Remember that rule about bandmates keeping their

dicks out of other bandmates?” Connor gestured sharply at

Jude and A.J. “Might want to give those two a refresher.”

Shiloh shook her head. “Seriously? You’re being serious

right now?”

Jude swallowed. “I’m sorry. We—”

“How did you guys . . . How did this . . .?” Shiloh pressed

her fingers onto her temples and squeezed her eyes shut. “I

mean, after all the shit this band has been through, what in

God’s name possessed either of you—”

“We got to know each other, and it happened,” A.J. said.

“It just . . . happened.”

“No, I don’t fucking buy that.” Shiloh lowered her hands

and glared at him. “You’re both grown-ass adults. You
knew

what would happen.” She stabbed a finger at A.J. “You and I

even talked about this. Did you . . . did you lie to me?”

A.J. flinched. “It was . . . We . . .”

“You son of a bitch. Both of you! You
both
knew damn

well we’d eventually be standing here and hashing all this shit out, and you still slept together like you didn’t give—” Her

voice cracked. Then she threw up her hands, said something

Jude didn’t understand, and turned on her heel. As she

disappeared into the night, Connor shot Jude and A.J. a

poisonous glare, and then he jogged after her.

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Eyes locked on Jude, Kristy said, “A.J., get out of here. I

don’t care where you go, but stay away from the rest of the

band until I can defuse this shit. First, I want to talk to him.”

Jude gulped.

A.J. didn’t say a word and didn’t even look at Jude. He

wisely got the hell out of here, leaving Jude alone with the

band’s royally pissed-off manager.

He took a breath. “Kristy, I’m—”

“Don’t you dare fucking apologize.” Kristy’s voice was

calm and even, but had that dangerous undercurrent that

meant she really was about to lose her shit. She came closer,

and Jude fought the urge to take a step back. “Did I not make

it perfectly fucking clear that you were coming back into the

band on the condition that you and Connor kept your dicks

out of your goddamned bandmates? Did I fucking
stutter

when I said that?”

“No. You didn’t.” He put up his hands. “Listen, it—”

“I don’t want any explanations. I don’t want any apologies.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Didn’t you learn anything from what

happened with Connor? Or with Wyatt?”

He nodded. “I did. Yes.”

“Then why the fuck—”

“Because . . .” He shook his head. “Does it even matter?

You said you didn’t want an explanation, so—”

“Because there’s no explanation you could possibly give

that would justify this, Jude. For God’s sake, I don’t care if you two are some sort of magical soul mates who’ve been searching

for each other for millennia or some stupid shit like that.” She waved a hand toward the bus where the rest of the band was

no doubt hearing about this. “You’ve both got other people

depending on you. Every member of this band is depending

on every other, and you and A.J. both know damn well what

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happens when one person lets the whole group down. Do you

understand what’s on the line right now?”

She looked at him with more hurt than anger, and her

voice wavered slightly. “Everyone’s worked so fucking hard

to get here. You guys have made it, Jude.
You’ve made it
.” She shook her head, and he swore there was a tear in her voice as

she added, “What is it going to take for you to stop getting a

good thing and fucking it up?”

He avoided her eyes. Particularly when she was this pissed

off, there was no way he could make her understand why A.J.

had made him abandon good sense and caution. He wasn’t

sure he could explain it anyway—not to her, not to himself.

There was nothing
to
explain. A.J. was just . . . A.J.

Kristy raked a hand through her hair and swore under

her breath. “I swear to Christ, if Shiloh or Vanessa ever

stop being workaholics long enough to notice guys, I’ll

have to bring in another manager just to keep everyone out

of trouble with their damned bed partners.” She threw up

her hands. “Do you have any idea what a blessing it is that

Richie’s asexual? He’s the
one
person in this entire fucking band who I
never
have to worry about causing some kind of penis-related disaster!”

“I get it, all right? What exactly do you want me to say?”

“There’s nothing you can say, Jude.” She looked him in

the eye. “That’s the part you don’t seem to get. This shit keeps happening, and I find myself having this same conversation