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My heart thundered in my chest and I eased back on my stool to put some space between us.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit,” he snapped. “They were all ready to sign until you pulled the vocalist aside. Are you a lawyer or something?”

“No, I’m an accountant.”

I don’t know why I said that. He didn’t need to know that. And it only seemed to inflame him more. His face got red as he shouted at me, drawing the attention of the people around us.

“Then you should mind your fucking business! What happens between me and my client is between us!”

“They deserve a fair shot,” I argued. “Your contract was basically theft. You’re angry right now because your manipulation tactic failed.”

Weatherby snorted derisively. “They’re gonna fucking hate you when they realize you’ve ruined their chances at becoming big. No one's gonna hire freaks like them. I was their one shot at fame.”

The guilt ate at me, but I lifted my chin, refusing to let the rat see his words had any effect on me. The way he said it was telling, and I knew more than ever that I made the right choice by talking to Hendrix.

“So you think they can’t make it because they’re paranormal? Did you even plan on giving them a shot? Just because they aren’t human doesn’t mean they don’t deserve a fair shake. Have you even listened to their music? They’re good! Really good. They’re going to make it one day and they don’t need your help to do it.”

Weatherby made an irritated sound, shooting me a flat look. “You’re fucking delusional.”

“And you’re a rat. I feel sorry for whoever ends up taking your offer. No one deserved to be treated like that.”

Weatherby growled, his face turning red with his anger. I glanced uneasily over his shoulder toward the stage. Hendrix was just off stage, probably getting things set up. He didn’t notice the man in front of me.

“Watch your mouth, you piece of shit.”

I didn’t know what came over me, but I shot back, “Why? You don't want the world to know how you screw over bands who are just looking for a chance? How you hide the fact that you’re robbing them blind with fancy legal jargon? People should know who they’re dealing with when you come along with your slimy smile. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

I probably should have backed off before things got so intense. I wasn’t a fighter, by any means. I barely had the muscle to carry Sophie up the stairs. But I’d dealt with bullies all my life. Backing down would only make him feel powerful and he’d double down on the next poor band he set his sights on. I was kind of hoping the crowd surrounding us would deter him, but he didn't seem to care. He grabbed the front of my shirt, dragging me towards him until our faces were inches apart.

“You’re gonna regret getting in my way,” he hissed. “I’m gonna–”

I didn’t see Hendrix coming until he ripped the guy away from me, the force of it tossing Weatherby onto his ass a few feet away. Hendrix placed himself between me and Weatherby, his fury coming off him in waves. He had a crown of fire from his horns and he seemed to swell, making him way more intimidating than the guy I knew. I couldn’t see Weatherby with Hendrix between us, but I heard him get to his feet, shrieking at Hendrix.

“You’re going to regret this! I’ll make sure you never sign with another label! You’ll come crying to me eventually and I’ll remember this!”

“Oh, go cry to your mommy,” Ruby snapped, moving to stand next to Hendrix. Laz and Duncan followed, making an actual wall between me and Weatherby.

It shocked me that they wanted to protect me. No one had ever stood up for me like that before. I heard the murmurs of the crowd, felt their eyes on us, and I flushed from embarrassment. But not even the embarrassment could bypass the swell of emotion in my chest when Laz spoke up.

“You’re shit out of luck, asshole. We trust Artie. If he’s got a problem with you, then we aren’t interested. Touch him again and you’ll face all of us. Now fuck off.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

HENDRIX

I growledmy agreement with Laz, glaring at Weatherby. He could look indignant all he wanted. He wasn’t going to get a contract with us. Not while I was around. Especially after he grabbed Art. No one touches my man and gets away with it.

It must’ve finally clicked that he wasn’t going to get his way with us, because his gaze swung to Zion, who stood off to the side, glowering at us.

“You should’ve told me you worked with a bunch of pathetic shits. You should consider branching out. They’re going to hold you back. I’m out of here. I don’t have to stand this.”

Watching him walk away, I glared at his back. Once he was out of sight, I swung around to face Art.

“You okay?”

He looked wide eyed and a little shell shocked, but not hurt. He looked up at me, his brows drawing together tightly.