Page 61 of Fractured Rhythm

I didn’t miss how her smile brightened and her cheeks pinked a bit. She was awesome on that kit, and I should want her feedback. We needed to work as a cohesive unit. That was the only way we could do our music, our fans, and Jamie justice. He may be gone, but I wasn’t going to fuck up his legacy. I, at least, owed him that.

“Thanks. I was thinking about this,” she said before she launched into playing, her arms flying as her sticks hit the skins in a pulse-pounding rhythm.

I started playing the song, my fingers sliding up and down the frets, melding in perfectly with her pace.

“Killed it,” Jax said before he picked up in the second verse and Tristan quickly followed in.

We played that song like we’d been playing together for years, and when the final chord came crashing down, I couldn’t fight my own shit-eating grin. This woman had it.

Had. It.

“Fucking sweet,” Tristan said, his bass hanging from his chest as he grabbed a nearby bottle of water and tossed it to Charlie.

She grinned, catching the bottle. She pushed her sweaty hair from her face and opened the water, taking a swig. “Thanks for letting me do that. The song was awesome, but I wanted to add a little flair.”

“You certainly did,” Jax said, beaming.

“What? No flirtatious comment?” she asked.

“Nah. I’m afraid you would just shoot me down. It’s bruising my fragile ego,” he replied.

“Fragile, my ass. That ego is like a brick wall. Takes a ton of hits, but it’s still standing,” I said.

Charlie snorted. “Lead singers, man.”

Tristan barked out a laugh. “Yeah, the worst.”

“I’m in the room. What the fuck,” Jax squawked.

“Total drama,” Charlie said, her grin widening.

“Yeah, you’ll fit in perfectly,” I said.

We spent the next few hours jamming, working through the new songs I’d written and rocking out with the older stuff. It felt amazing. We were in sync, bouncing off each other’s energy like a band that had played together for ages. But we still had to play in front of an audience. The mini-tour would be a true test.

“I sent some recordings of our practice today to Josh,” Tristan said an hour later.

We were all sprawled out on the surrounding couches getting to know Charlie and answering her questions. She was a big fan of the band, but Wikipedia didn’t have all the facts about us, so we filled her in. Not that I wanted to go into too much detail about Jamie. Hell, most of that was out there for the public. OD’ing on tour wasn’t something they’d ever be able to downplay or hide the specifics of.

But Charlie hadn’t pressed us about Jamie. She wanted to know how we’d started out, who influenced us growing up, and who our favorite mentors were. Stuff like that.

“What’s Josh like?” she asked. “The manager of my last band was a total prick. He was more interested in how short our skirts were. Like I would wear a fucking skirt while playing the drums.” She turned to Jax. “No comments needed.”

“What? I wasn’t even going to say anything.” Jax tried to sound contrite.

“Whatever, man,” I said. “So the guy was a dick, huh?”

“Yeah. More interested in what kitschy shit would sell more records than worried about the actual music.”

“Josh can be a pain in the ass, but he respects the music. He’s a shark, but I’d like to believe he has our best interests at heart,” I said. Josh may drive me crazy—especially lately—but Steelwolf was important to him. We were important to him. It helped that we were the first band he’d ever managed. He had a dozen bands that his company managed now that he’d brought additional people on staff, but his priority was always us.

“Awesome. What’s it like on tour? We played some small local shows, but nothing crazy. I mean, if I’m going on tour with you guys,” she said.

“You’re definitely going on tour with us,” Tristan said.

“Yeah. You were awesome today,” I said.

“Sweet,” she cheered. “Now spill.”

“There was one time in Seattle,” I started and chuckled when Jax groaned.

“Come on, man.”

I ignored him. “Jax was strutting around the stage, all fired up. He bent over to pick up a bra that someone had flung on stage and his pants ripped right down the seam. It was so fucking loud.”

“That’s awesome,” Charlie said. “Were the ladies disappointed when a roll of socks fell out?”

“Ah, what the fuck, Charlie,” Jax burst out.

“Yeah. Welcome to the band, Charlie,” I said.

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