“They sure did. Because of this.” She traced a faded yellow mark on her neck.
“Is it that a bruise?” Toni had no idea how a bruise would lead to an up-and-coming band pulling out of a career-changing tour with Exodus End.
“It’s almost gone now. You should have seen it a week ago.”
Toni leaned in for a closer inspection. The fading mark completely circled Reagan’s neck.
“How didn’t I notice that before?” Toni asked. It was faded, but hard to overlook.
“I’ve been putting makeup on it to cover it. Is it still noticeable?”
Toni nodded. “It looks like you tried to hang yourself.”
“Dude tried to strangle me with a guitar string. Pyre did this.”
“No shit?” Toni blurted. “You must have been terrified.”
Reagan shrugged. “I was unconscious for most of it. Anyway, his band got fired from the tour, obviously—your lead guitarist tries to kill someone and that’s bound to happen—so lucky for us Steve is close with the guys of Twisted Element. They’ve done an awesome job filling in with no time to prepare a show.”
“I had no idea that’s why they were on tour with you guys. How did I miss that story? I scoured the Internet for news about the band just days ago. I didn’t read anything about this.” Reagan wasn’t a pathological liar, was she?
“Sam said it would be better if we kept the controversy under the rug.”
“Seriously? That guy could have killed you.”
“But you can put it in the book,” Reagan said. “It won’t come out until next year, right?”
“Right. Why is that important?”
“I won’t be under Sam’s ridiculous contract anymore. So I can’t make a stink about this now without getting my ass sued, but you better believe I’m going to shout it from the rafters after that contract expires.”
“What do the guys think about you being hushed?” Toni couldn’t imagine they’d side with Sam, but she didn’t know Sam or how tightly he ruled the bands he managed.
“They think it’s better not to expose this incident to the press for my sake. I guess they think Pyre Vamp is in jail for thirty days, so he learned his lesson. When it comes to their image, it’s like Sam has them brainwashed. I don’t know why they listen to him.”
“Maybe it’s in their contract.”
Reagan’s eyes widened. “I didn’t even think of that. You’re probably right. You know, Sinners basically manage themselves. They have a manager, but he’s very hands off, not like Sam at all. If I ever form my own band, that’s the kind of manager I want. The mostly absent kind.”
“But look at Exodus End’s success. You don’t get as big as they do without a good team to back you.”
“Maybe,” Reagan said. “But at what cost?”
“Do you think Sam’s control stifles their creativity?”
“I hope not. I haven’t been with them long enough to know.” Reagan pondered quietly for a moment and then patted Toni’s knee. “We got way off track on your interview question. So yeah, contest. I won. I was so excited I signed a beast of a contract without reading it. But I’m touring with Exodus End, so I’ll grin and bear it.” Reagan grinned so broadly, Toni feared her face might crack in half. “You’re a little too easy to talk to, you know? You’re going to get me in trouble.”
Toni tucked her hair behind her ears, smiling to herself. She was glad she was easy to talk to. That made her job so much easier. And maybe she was doing it right, even though it still didn’t feel like she knew what the hell she was doing. She decided her toughest undertaking would be sifting through all the information she was collecting for material she could actually use in the book.
“Are you sure you want me to include the story about Pyre trying to strangle you?”
“Yeah. And be sure to say the reason he did it was because he lost the Exodus End Guitarist for a Year Contest. To a girl.”
“What a turd.” Toni pursed her lips to refrain from calling him more derogatory names.
“I’m done thinking about him for today. Next question,” Reagan prompted.
Toni glanced toward her legal pad of Susan-prepared questions and shook her head. “So,” she asked, “what’s the most difficult thing about being on the road with a bunch of guys?”
“Lack of bathroom space,” she said without hesitation.
“Yeah, that does suck,” Toni agreed with a nod.
“These guys have been so great about accepting me into their fold, so I really don’t have anything to complain about. And this whole three days on the road followed by two nights in a cushy hotel is fabulous. I was on tour with Sinners for a few weeks, and those guys never take a day off while they’re on tour. I don’t know how they stay sane.”
“You talk about Sinners a lot,” Toni noted.
“You know, you should write a book about them when you’re finished with Exodus End.”
“I’ve thought about it,” Toni admitted. But first she had to prove to herself and the rest of the world that she could do right by Exodus End.
The bus shuddered as it came to a stop.
“I think it’s time to eat,” Reagan said. “We didn’t get very far in your interview.”
Toni laughed and shook her head in disgrace. “Don’t worry about it. Not getting far in my interviews is officially a trend at this point.”
“Well then, let’s go.” Reagan sprang to her feet and tugged Toni off the sectional. “I need to wash the taste of Logan’s dick-by-proxy out of my mouth.”
Could she really taste that? How mortifying.
Toni grabbed her recorder from the table and tucked it into the pocket of her sweater. She never knew when someone was going to say something important.
Twenty-Two
Logan sidled up to Butch and waited to be noticed.
“What’s up?” Butch said, not even looking up from the page attached to his clipboard.
“I have a few things I need at the hotel tonight.”
Butch could get them anything they wanted. At any time. He’d never let them down yet. One time Steve had tested the bounds of Butch’s abilities by requesting a gold-plated toilet seat in his hotel room in Beijing. It had been installed before they arrived.
“Girls?” Butch asked. It was Logan’s typical request.
“I have a girl,” Logan reminded him.
Butch glanced toward the back of the bus where Toni was finishing up her turkey sandwich. Without jalapeños, Logan’s dick happily reminded him.
“Yeah, but I figured you wanted more than one.”
“If it’s that particular one, one is enough.”
Butch grinned to himself, looking way too self-satisfied for Logan’s taste.
“I need sex toys,” Logan blurted.
Butch didn’t bat an eyelash. “Okay. What kind?”
“All kinds. All sizes. For both men and women.”
“Got it,” Butch said.
“Isn’t weed legal for recreational use in Montana?”
Butch’s mustache twitched. “Nope.”
“Damn. Can you get me some anyway?”
“Logan,” Butch began his long-winded rehearsed speech about rock star vices.
“Fine,” Logan said. “But when we get to Colorado this weekend . . .” He didn’t want to get busted for illegal drugs and suffer the fury of Sam Baily’s wrath, but if it was legal? Sign him up for some of that shit.
Butch nodded in defeat. He had a long standing rule about refusing to obtain illegal substances for anyone while they were on tour, but he couldn’t use that as an excuse in this case. “Just don’t bring it on the bus. We don’t want to cross state lines with it.”
Logan patted him on the back. “Thata boy.”
“Anything else?”
Logan sneaked a glance at Toni, and his heart fluttered at the sight of her. “What do women like? As gifts, I mean.”
“Besides sex toys and weed?”
Logan laughed and whacked Butch on the back again. “Yeah, besides sex toys and weed.”