Angel (Fallen Angel, #3)(45)

“Viper,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’s been a long time.”

An awkward silence descended as I balled up the paper towel and tossed it in the trash. “What do you want, Trent?”

“I thought we could talk.”

My eyes moved to the tall, built guy standing a little behind him. He had to be at least six-five, with muscles like tires, and tattooed from the neck down, at least from what I could see. His ice-blond hair was slicked back, the light strands melting into dark, and he wore an immaculate fitted navy suit and vest, a total contradiction of his looks.

I nodded toward him. “Your bodyguard?”

Trent gave the man a look and then inclined his head toward me. “Shaw, this is Viper. Viper, this is my boyfriend, Shaw.”

“Boyfriend?” I said, my eyebrows shooting up, unable to hide my surprise. “Really? And you brought him out in public. Things have changed.”

“A lot’s changed since the last time I saw you. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about—”

“And you thought following me into the men’s room was the place to do that?”

Trent looked around the empty restroom and shrugged. “I wanted some privacy. No one’s listening or taking pictures in here.”

I leaned back against the sink and crossed my arms. “Okay. Speak.”

“You’re defensive. I get it. You’re upset I walked out on you guys, and I’m sorry. I should’ve sat you all down and told you how unhappy I was—”

“Unhappy? We were on top of the fuckin’ world—”

“And I had no say in that, did I? You and Kill ran TBD, and any input I gave was tossed out. You said some pretty fucked-up shit to me, V. You know as well as I do that you made my life hell those last few months.”

“So you just bailed? You left us all to rot and die, because you were too selfish to have a hard conversation.”

“You know what? Fuck you,” Trent said, stepping forward, but Shaw held him back.

“Feel free to call off your watchdog. I don’t mind knocking your head clean off your goddamn shoulders.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Yeah, and who always won?” I smirked. “Wouldn’t want to mess up that pretty-boy face before the show, would we?”

“Jesus Christ.” Trent ran his hand through his hair and gripped the ends. “Still an asshole.”

“Why fix what’s not broken?”

“And here I thought maybe an angel would temper your foul fuckin’ mood.”

With the mention of Halo, it was my turn to move. I jerked up off the sink and started forward, but there again was Shaw stepping in between us. If he wasn’t so damn massive, I would’ve shoved him aside, but I had a feeling he didn’t get those muscles just from the gym.

“Leave him the fuck out of this,” I said.

“I wasn’t saying that to be a dick, V. And it’s not like I’ve been hiding under a rock, either. I know how you feel about each other, and I know how good he’s been for the band.”

“Yeah, he has. You have no clue what we went through when you left. You ever been booed on stage? Had shit thrown at you? Because that’s the shit we had to put up with when you walked.”

Trent’s face fell, and he looked away. “I know. I’m not sure if Killian ever told you that we met up earlier this year—”

“Of course he did. He’s not the type to keep secrets.”

Trent ignored the dig. “Kill told me what happened at the Savannah show, and… Shit. I never meant for any of that to happen. I just needed to fucking breathe, and I couldn’t do that in TBD anymore.” When I didn’t say anything, Trent blew out a breath. “Look, I didn’t come in here to fight with you. I came to clear the air, okay? I don’t want to avoid each other if we’re at the same place, and I don’t want all the shit talking, either.”

“Aw, but you give me so much material,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“V, come on. I know I fucked you guys over, and trust me, I plan on apologizing to the rest of the guys for that, but I’m not the only one who should be throwing out an ‘I’m sorry’ here.”

I had to bite down on my tongue to stop the retort that wanted to come flying out of my mouth, instead thinking back to more than a year ago, when Trent was still around. It’d been a rough few months at the end, I’d cop to that, but we’d just come off a massive tour and had gone straight into the studio to work on the next album. We were tired. We needed a break from each other.

And yeah, maybe I’d been an asshole, but what else was new? Trent had wanted to go in a direction that was the complete opposite of TBD’s sound, and it caused us to butt heads more often than not.

“So we made you that miserable? Or me, specifically?” I said.

“Look, we had a great run for a long time, but toward the end? Yeah. You, the whole thing. I felt like I was suffocating, and I don’t expect you to understand, but I needed to find my own way. You guys felt broken? I felt broken too. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to make music again.”

I glanced at Shaw. “I’m guessing you found some inspiration for that.”

A smile crossed Trent’s lips as he looked at the intimidating man watching us. “Yeah, I did.”