Page 87 of Filthy Rock Stars

“Great.” I manage a smile, although in truth, I’m nervous. The desire to please his parents is right there, even though that’s illogical considering the circumstances, but I also know that they weren’t great parents to Shadow, so I’m preemptively mad at them, too.

It’s a little exhausting.

“I look forward to standing quietly by and not making much of an impression.”

Shadow chuckles. “Perfect.” He hesitates for just a second, then squeezes my arm, holding my eye. “Thank you again, Nico,” he says, his voice rough with sincerity. “For coming. I’m still not sure exactly what I want you to see here, but I hope it helps somehow.”

“Thank you for sharing with me.”

We take the ride into town slowly. It’s hot out, and I’m sweaty under my boyfriend’s leather jacket. The town is small, with the high school, pharmacy, post office, and all the little businesses clustered in a couple of blocks. He cruises right by them and to the outskirts of town, where we follow a winding driveway up to a spectacularly large home, white columns at the porch and a big loop of a driveway, a massive orange truck parked in front.

I pop my helmet off and immediately fix the scarf. “Oh wow. You bought your mom this house?”

He waves his hand, dismissing that. “Couldn’t let her sit in a crappy apartment while I raked in millions.” As he helps me off his bike, Shadow frowns. “That’s Ron’s truck,” he says.

“Your dad’s here? I thought your parents didn’t talk.”

The front door of the house swings open. A short woman in a gray robe steps out and gives us a big wave. Shadow has her nose, so identical I stare from behind my blocky sunglasses, but she has softer features and rounder cheeks.

“Shadow!” she yells. “What are you doing here?”

Shadow walks straight toward her, and I follow. “I missed the Bearhead tap water. Why is Ron here?”

Rhonda glances over her shoulder, fussing with her robe. “Ron?”

I’m not sure exactly what’s going on, except that Shadow’s mom is clearly on edge.

Shadow grunts under his breath. “He in there?” He steps forward. “Ron?” he yells into the house. “Yo!”

For just a split second, his mom glances at me, but she quickly turns into the house. After a hesitant pause, she sighs. “For shit’s sake, Ron! Don’t make him drag you out.”

Shadow’s dad emerges from the house, also in a robe as he joins us on the porch. He’s hunched over, lacking any of his son’s charm, although also with some similar features. When I glance down, I see that both him and Shadow’s mom are barefoot.

Shadow gasps, his face contorted with horror. “Shit! You were fucking!” He jumps back off the porch. “What the hell!”

Ron crosses his arms over his chest. “Hate-fucking,” he grunts.

Shadow closes his eyes and grabs his forehead. “Goddamn it.” He turns to me. “Come on. I need a glass of water.”

I follow Shadow past his parents, totally confused.

I’m not sure what I expected from the house, but the second we’re inside, I realize that I’ve entered a shrine. It’s like the house of a fanatic. There are framed albums and posters and photographs of Forbidden Destiny, plenty of Shadow but just as many of the rest of the band, especially Adrian and Elle together.

“Are you okay?” I ask Shadow quickly.

He looks at me, frustration on his face. “This is unbelievable. Even for them.”

“I’m sorry. And that doesn’t answer my question,” I point out as we walk into the kitchen, but just as quickly, his parents catch up with us.

“If you called,” Rhonda complains as she storms in, “we wouldn’t have this problem.”

At the sink, Shadow hands me a glass of water, then bolts one himself, probably wishing it was whiskey.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Ron says.

Shadow grimaces. “I don’t want to know about this. I don’t want to see it. It’s a bad idea, and if any of this bullshit blows back on me, I’ll lose it.”

My eyes catch on something in the hallway behind us, and I realize it’s Shadow’s Grammy, proudly displayed in a glass box. The fact that he gave it to his mother strikes me, surprising as his parents both glare at him.

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