8
Slade
I stepped out of the motel and walked to my Firebird, where members of the band, Liam, Bradan, Jimmy, and Sean were all standing, talking amongst themselves. Everyone, except Liam, wore dark sunglasses and looked like they were recovering from a heavy night of partying.
“The girls coming?” asked Liam.
“Soon,” I replied, twirling the car keys around my pinky. “You guys can leave, you know. You don’t have to wait around. Where’s your motorcycle, Liam?”
“I left it at Club Nightshade,” he answered glumly. “Everything happened so fast when the s**t went down. I tried going back for it later, but someone had trashed it.”
“Oh, man... I’m sorry,” I said. “That bike was wicked.”
“It was bad-a*s,” he said, sighing. “Someone’s going to have to pay for that, Slade. Maybe not now, but I
