Deanna • Duff McKagan

Chapter Eight • Dylan

July 6th, 1985

Two days. Two days I've been cooped up in a holding cell at Los Angeles County Jail, anxiously awaiting the moment that someone, literally anyone, decides to bail me out of this hell hole.

It's cold, really cold, and since I'm in a holding cell, I don't even have a bed. I have a bench that I share with about a billion LA hookers who unfortunately got caught, and are now here with me.

I hear the buzzing sound of the cell door opening, the officer who finger printed me when I got here coming into view. "Delores Elektra? Your bail has been posted." Okay, maybe I lied to my father and my name isn't legally changed quite yet, we're still in the process.

My shirt is currently stretched over my knees, trying to provide some warmth for my bare legs. Haley says I remind her of a typical Cali girl; and I guess she may be right. I stand up from the bench, the seven hookers trapped in here with me glaring at my luck, to get bailed out. No way in hell are their pimps gonna come get them, these women are about to rot behind bars.

I walk past the officer, who's nametag reads 'Blessing'. I resist the urge to burst into laughter, because no officer in these parts is a blessing. "Who bailed me out?" Complete silence. "Okay, don't have a conversation then."

He opens the door to the waiting room, revealing nobody I thought would be here. Not Haley, not Axl, not Duff, not Slash, not Izzy, not Steven. Well, not that any of them will have the kind of money they needed to bail me out. Even with their recent success, none of them would have the thousand dollars needed for my bail.

That is, until I glance at the smirking face before me. "Dylan," I shake my head, my eyes narrowing at the teenage boy before me. "How the hell did you know I was arrested, and why the hell did you bail me out?"

He shrugs, the smirk still painted upon his lips. "You could always go back if you want, Delores."

I roll my eyes, wishing that we weren't in a police station so I could strangle him like I desperately want to. "Whatever, I'm out now. So, wanna answer my questions?"

"Take a walk with me, big sister," he stands from the blue hard plastic chair in the tiny waiting room, tossing an arm across my shoulder as we step out of the station. As soon as we're outside, I pick his shoulder up and drop it from my shoulder.

"I'm not your sister," I grit my teeth, already sick of the eighteen year old's antics and it's been five minutes.

"But you live with my sister, and your dad is married to our mom.. so that makes you... hm, I guess it makes you my sister." His taunting becomes worse by the second, and it's almost worth getting another assault charge to slug him.

"That makes me your step sister," I emphasize the step, not wanting to even think about any sort of blood relation with Dylan Marshall. "How'd you figure out I was in jail? Did my father tell you?"

"Nope," he answers shortly as we make it to his car. "Haley called, asked to borrow some money to get you out of jail. Since you know, I'm the only one who still has a trust fund."

It seems as if I have rolled my eyes a hundred times in the past thirty seconds, every single syllable that drips off his tongue causing my blood to boil. "And what do you want in return?"

"Simple," He starts as we make it to the edge of the parking lot. I see Haley and the band standing next to a van, I'm assuming they came here with Dylan. "My frat is having a party on the twenty-first, and a certain Sorority President has a thing for Guns N' Roses. If I get them to play at this party, she'll play with me, if you know what I'm saying."

"And if I don't?" I ask defiantly, not wanting to do a damn thing for Dylan. Owing Dylan a favor is like cheating on your taxes, he'll find you, and he'll make you pay.

"Then I guess I'll just revoke my bail and send you back to jail. Make good decisions, Delores." With that, he turns and walks the opposite way toward his sports car, causing me to walk as quickly as I could to my friends.

"Haley, I would've rathered you kept me in there for ten years then gotten Dylan involved." I roll my eyes, letting Haley know of my distaste for her younger brother.

"Why did your father get you arrested?" Axl interjects quickly, his eyes narrowing in my direction. "You just cost us a record deal!"

I scoff, shaking my head at the singer. "You guys never had a chance at a record deal with him, trust me."

He stands straight from his previous position, taking a few steps forward. "So, we're not good enough for daddy's little girl?"

Izzy steps forward, his greasy hair covered by his newsboy cap. "Axl, I'm sure she didn't mean it like that," he states, trying to calm the fiery redhead down.

"Nah, it's okay Izzy, let him think what he wants." Axl continues to focus his glare on me, but I don't back down. "Clearly I don't think you're good enough for me, I mean, I spent all that time getting you gigs, I show up to every damn gig, and I fucking let my creepy boss nail me in order to get y'all more gigs at The Troubadour!" I shouldn't have said that, I should not have said that. Everyone's jaws drop, with the exception of Duff, who already knew I did some 'less desirable' things to get them those gigs. "But yep, I don't think you're good enough for me."

I turn my back on the six people before deciding I have more to say. "And the reason you don't have a chance at a record deal with my father is because he won't do anything that could remotely make me happy, and you guys getting signed will make me the happiest I've ever been. I'll fucking walk home."

And with that, I turn away from the police station and step away from the group.