Page 131 of Worst Nanny Ever
“Yeah,” he says, shaking his head, summoning some anger of his own. “And what I would give to have my shitty dad leave me a fortuneanda platform. You act like you’re so high and mighty, Travis, but you’re not above using your money. You basically bought this place for Rob, so he’d have a purpose, and I know you poured money into it.”
“We offered you a job here,” I say evenly.
I can feel Rob staring at me, but that’s a conversation for a different time.
“I didn’t want a job at this stupid fucking place,” Bixby says, standing up. “I wanted our band to go places. That’s why I did it. I knew all it would take was a little push, and?—”
“We didn’t need it,” Rob says, his tone hard. “Frank was interested in us before all this dumb stunt, but now he wants us in sailor suits. You made us a joke.”
“I didn’t know that would happen.” He starts pacing. “I did it before we met him, and then I forgot about it. I erased the posts after the show.”
“You forgot that you betrayed me?” I say dryly. “Well, at least you did it for the good of the band.”
“Yeah.” He stops pacing. “That’s all I care about, and I used to think that was all you cared about too. But you obviously have different priorities.” He turns his glare on Hannah again. “Ever since that kid got dropped off at your doorstep and this bitch started working for you?—”
That’s all it takes. I’m no longer thinking about the fact that this guy was my friend until fifteen minutes ago. I’m not even thinking of the way he buried a knife in my back. All I’m thinking is that he just insulted my son and the woman I care about. The woman Ilove. I rush forward and bury my fist in his face. His nose gushes blood.
“You don’t fucking talk about them like that. You don’t talk about them at all.”
I haven’t punched anyone since I was twenty-one, and it feels awful, but I don’t have time to cradle my hand, because Bixby punches me back hard, clipping me in the shoulder.
I see Hannah coming toward us with a look of intent in her eyes—a distraction that gets me punched again—but then Rob physically lifts her and plants her behind him before rushing forward.
He’s yelling something, but I don’t hear him, because the blood is beating hard in my ears as I punch Bixby again. He tries to get his arm around my neck, hitting me in the side this time, probably nearly taking out a rib, and then suddenly Rob’s pulling me back. “Not worth it, man.”
Drake pulls Bixby back, too, though Bix is staring murderously at me. Still just as pissed off as I am, even though he’s the one in the wrong. The one who used me.
“You’re out of the band,” Rob tells him.
Bixby actually laughs. “Out of the band? Thereisno more band. Screw this.”
He shrugs out of Drake’s hold and storms out of the room.
Drake stands there for a second, rocking on the balls of his feet. “Uh, does that mean I’m out, too?”
“Yes,” Rob says as Hannah steps out from behind him and runs over to me. “Obviously.”
I almost laugh, but I don’t. I can’t.
I wrap my arms around Hannah, needing her warmth. My blood feels like ice in my veins. Because Bixby’s right. Without a rhythm guitarist and a bassist, we’ve got no band. We’re cooked.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
HANNAH
Travis is quiet as we get into my car.
I insisted on driving both of us. He protested and said it was stupid because he’d have to come back and get his car later, and I said I didn’t care if it was stupid, I was damn well driving him. Then he just shrugged and got into the passenger seat like he didn’t care about anything, which made me think that maybe I should have let him drive after all.
Before Rob left, he told Travis that they were going to take a breather but they’d work something out. But from the look on Travis’s face, he doesn’t believe it.
“Do you wish you were driving?” I ask.
“I don’t care, Hannah,” he says, but he layers his hand over my thigh. So at least he’s not pissed at me for being the bearer of bad news.
Before I can turn on the ignition, he asks, “Do you think Dottie could watch Ollie for a little longer? I don’t think… I need a little time to process this.”
“On it,” I say, already hopping onto my cell phone.
