Page 88 of Filthy Rock Stars

Rhonda licks her teeth. “I don’t know when you decided it was fine to talk to me with that tone, but I’m not having it,” she says, grabbing her coffee from the counter. “I call the radio station every day and request your song, and this is the thanks you give me.”

Ron groans. “He doesn’t care about the damn radio station.”

“Hey,” Shadow objects with a scowl. “It’s, like, one of the only nice things she does. Don’t give her a hard time about it.”

My head is spinning. This must be the type of chaos Shadow grew up in, and I hate that for him.

Ron throws his hand in the air. “It’s none of your business anyway,” he nearly yells.

Shadow throws his hands in the air back at his dad, but he keeps his voice steady, not yelling. “You walked out in a bathrobe and told me that you’re hate-fucking each other. What am I supposed to do, quietly file that information away and join you for after-sex hate-donuts at the kitchen table?”

Ron shifts his weight as he adjusts his robe. “Mid-sex, more like it,” he grumbles.

“I’m out of here,” Shadow declares.

“No,” Rhonda jumps in. “Ron will leave. He’s not allowed to hang out after anyway.”

I watch a million horrified reactions pass through Shadow’s eyes at once. He shakes them away. “No,” he says again. “This is too much. Okay? I’ll see you both another time.”

Rhonda reaches out and grabs Shadow’s arm. “Wait!” she says. “Don’t leave, damn it.” She turns and shoves Ron. “Get your damn pants on, Ron. Go!”

Shadow softens. I’m impressed that he’s managed to get through this all without yelling himself, despite both his parents raising their voices. I wish I could reach out and comfort him, hold his hand at least or give him meaningful eye contact, but behind my sunglasses, it’s all impossible.

Ron shuffles down the hall, relenting. “I got shit to do anyway.”

Once he’s gone, Shadow lets out a deep breath and nods to me. “This is my assistant. Prince.”

Rhonda’s eyebrows perk up. “Assistant? Maybe you can help me.”

“No,” Shadow says flatly. “He can’t.”

I’m not sure what to say, so I take a drink of water instead.

“This is why I needed you to stay,” she says to Shadow. “Unless I ask you in person, I can never get a copy of your new songs.”

“New songs?” Shadow asks, confused.

“The one you played on Cole Collins. Everyone around town was laughing about it when it happened. That’s your sense of humor, no doubt about it, and you got it from me.”

My cheeks heat. I’m in that video.

And she’s wrong. That’s not his sense of humor. Shadow can be sarcastic, but he’s not mean like that song. He’s never cruel.

Shadow’s eyes narrow. “Wait, did you say that’s why you needed me to stay?” he asks, incredulous. “Because you want a copy of the diss track so bad?”

My heart sinks. She did say that. Not that she wants his company, just his song.

Rhonda turns back to me. “You can arrange it?” she prompts. “Have the song sent straight to me.”

I ache for Shadow. I search for the right thing to say, a way to stand up for him without blowing our cover, but a second later, he grabs my hand. His touch is such a surprise, my heart jumps into my throat.

In a flash, we storm out of the house.

“What… Shadow…” I hurry after him, hands clasped, and we come back out to the porch as Ron stands there in the sunshine, kicking his pants on.

When Shadow turns to face me, the hurt flashing through his eyes has been replaced with a mix of anger and sad determination. “I’m sorry,” he says. “This is just a mess. Let me get you out of here. We both deserve better company.”

“You’re leaving?” Ron asks. He glances down at our hands, still clasped. “What the hell?”

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