Irresistible Refrain

Tempest 1

by

Michelle Mankin

Prologue

6 and a half years ago

l“Your old man’s an asshole.”

“Tell me something I don’t already know,” I mumbled. Chin on the arms I had crossed on top of my upturned knees, I turned my head to look at War as he lowered himself to the curb beside me. He mirrored my frown, his expression sympathetic. I reached back and pulled the hood of my jacket onto my head while he zipped up his. Southside Seattle in the summertime was still chilly, especially late at night.

“He shouldn’t put down your mom like that.” War stretched out his long legs. He and I had both grown several inches just in time to start high school.

I nodded. My hands clenched into fists. I hated the bastard.

“Better to have one that’s not even around, huh?”

My eyes held his for a long moment, the bravado he usually wore momentarily slipping aside. Though I’d known him since the beginning of middle school, War was one of those guys who kept his emotions light and near the surface. Until three months ago when he told me the truth about his father, or more accurately when he confided that his mom refused to tell him who his old man was. The identity of his father was a secret that I now knew gnawed at him constantly. His outward in your face attitude was more of a defense mechanism, a shield he put up to keep most everyone else at arm’s length.

“Yeah, fuck ‘em.” I bumped my shoulder to his. “I don’t know why my mom lets that asshole inside the door. It’s the same damn thing every time he shows up.” I dug my hands into the front pockets of my jeans. War was better off with just him and his mom. No fake father pretending he cared. “He comes back all nice and shit for a couple of weeks. Then he disappears again.” I glanced away. I hated how he made me feel as if I didn’t measure up somehow. The first couple of times he’d come back around, I’d worked my ass off trying to be the perfect son, so desperate for his approval, so desperately wanting him to stay.

Not anymore.

When I glanced back at War, his chin was down and his heavy brow was furrowed in concentration as he peeled off the label on a discarded soda bottle. This summer our friendship had moved up to another level. Sure we’d hung out a lot before. We both loved rock music: fast, heavy and loud. We both dreamed of forming our own band one day, but there was more that kept us together now. I knew about his old man and he knew about mine. That knowledge cemented our bond. And since neither of us had a brother, that’s what we became to each other. If we weren’t at each other’s houses, we were prowling the streets looking for trouble. We did all kinds of crazy shit. I covered for him with his mom and he covered for me with mine. Neither of us really wanted to be at home.

In the rare times that we weren’t together, War scoured his house looking for clues to his dad’s identity while I did my best to pretend to get along with my dad, for my mom’s sake. Inside, I fucking hated him. He lay around on the couch drinking beer and doing nothing all day while my mom slaved away. She worked, cooked, cleaned, and went to school at night. Like doing all that would somehow change him. I promised myself I was never going to be that hung up over anyone.

Irritation spiked just thinking about it. I couldn’t stand to sit around and stew out here anymore. I needed an outlet. Our friend Kyle had a dirt bike he’d been letting me ride. I turned to War. “Kyle still having that party tonight?”

“Yeah, you know Kyle. He’s always having a party.”

“I changed my mind. I wanna go.” Kyle’s unofficial hobby was dealing dope. Mainly he pedaled soft stuff like weed and pills. His way of bringing in new customers was to hand out free samples at his parties. I didn’t really care about that. I just wanted a turn on the bike. I needed to feel the wind on my face. Put a little physical distance between me and my old man. Pretend that he didn’t exist for a while.

“Fair enough.” War held out his hand as I stood. I clasped it and pulled him up. He didn’t question me about why I’d changed my mind, but I didn’t miss his knowing glance. “Cut through to fifty-second?”

“I guess.” It’d be faster, but would take us through La Raca Prima territory. That didn’t really bother War since the leader of the gang’s sister had a thing for him, like a lot of the older chicks did.

We cut quickly across the adjacent vacant lot and slipped through a break in the chain link fence on the other side. A couple of gang bangers turned to watch us dart across the busy street, but they left us alone. Thank God. A confrontation with guys like that never ended well.

We kept our heads down and passed by several closed businesses that had their windows boarded up and spray painted with graffiti before we finally arrived at Kyle’s apartment complex. Broken glass crunched beneath my shoes as War and I walked up the front sidewalk to his unit. Loud bass boomed from the music being played inside.

Kyle slurred out a greeting to War when he answered the door, glassy eyed and swaying, he led us inside the apartment. I scrapped the hood off my head, raked my hair out of my eyes, and waved off an offer of a drag from his lit joint. “Wasn’t expecting you to bring your wing man.” His red rimmed eyes squinted in War’s direction.

“Bryan’s cool.” War threw an arm around my shoulder. Warmth spread through my chilled limbs. We had an unwritten understanding since our first meeting in middle school. War took care of me and I had his back. No one was ever going to come between us. It was as simple as that.

We stood in the living room for a while, War and Kyle smoking pot and me goofing around until War wandered off upstairs with a woman who looked to be in her twenties. It wasn’t the first time I’d watched him hook up with someone that much older either, but so far there hadn’t been any fallout. There didn’t seem to be any consequences for War no matter what or who he did.

From day one I’d decided that Warren Jinkins was the absolute shit. Worrying about the way I looked up to him was the reason my mom had enrolled me in a teen leadership class. When I told War the teacher’s slogan was to do what’s right and your peers will follow, he’d laughed. “More like do what’s wrong,” he’d joked. “And you’ll always have enough people for a party.”

I’d already taken a spin on the bike and was just starting to get bored when War came back downstairs, finger combing his brown hair with one hand and tucking in a navy t-shirt with the other. He steered me toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.”

We ended up hitting our favorite convenience store on the Avenue for snacks and then went to his place, a small foursquare two streets over from my apartment. I pulled out the second hand Epiphone I kept stored in his closet, and we worked on a couple of songs, me on guitar, War on vocals. They weren’t original tunes, just covers. When we were done practicing we crashed hard.

I blinked slowly when War shook me awake around dawn. “What?” I muttered, wiping the drool off my cheek.

“Get up,” he bit out.

I pushed up from the worn couch I usually slept on in his room. My eyes narrowed as I studied his face. He looked really upset about something. “What’s going on?”

He waved a piece of paper in front of my face. I pushed his hand back so I could actually read what it said. It appeared to be a brush off letter addressed to his mom. Before I could finish it, he yanked it away.

“She had it hidden in her jewelry box, folded up under a false bottom. It’s from my dad, Peter Fucking Frangella.” His earnest eyes met mine. “I looked him up. He’s some kind of big shot with his own law firm.”

He was so worked up I noticed his hands shaking as he bent over to pull his shoes out from under his bed.

“And he’s married,” War mumbled. “With two kids.”

Shit.

With War determined to confront him immediately, we rode the train to Bellvue. It took forty-five minutes and two transfers. The squalor of Southside gave way to tree lined streets, landscaped yards, and thriving businesses. Once we got inside his dad’s building, War bullshitted his way past the security guard while I waited in the lobby, stomach clenched with anxiety for him.

It didn’t take long.

A flurry of f-bombs echoed off the white washed walls as soon as War exited the elevator. His expression was darker than I’d ever seen it. He slapped a hand to throw open the glass door and I followed him out of the building. I glanced back behind us half afraid by the way he was acting that someone would come chasing after us. War pulled me into the parking garage. “What happened?” I asked a little out of breath.

“First, he tried to pretend the letter wasn’t his.” War raked a hand through his hair. “When he realized I wasn’t buying that shit, he flat out told me to get out. He even threatened to call security if I didn’t go.”

Seeing War so upset, I got mad right along with him, furious that we both had such fucked up fathers. That’s when I happened to notice the name on the assigned parking spot to our left. Frangella. I pointed it out. “That must be your dad’s car, right?”

Scowling, War glanced at it and nodded.

“Fucking asshole has a brand new BMW. It still has the dealer tags on it.” I slanted a brow. “Doesn’t seem right.” I rubbed my chin. That shiny paint job seemed to be taunting me, as fake and false as both our old men were. “Kyle showed me how to hotwire and cut the alarm on one of these,” I admitted, a question in my tone.

“Fuck yeah,” he returned without hesitation, his lips curving into a wicked grin.

Within minutes, I had the alarm disabled and the car started. War took shotgun, crazy ass grins on both our faces now. I steered the BMW out of eastside and took the entrance ramp onto the 405. We rolled down the windows. It was fucking awesome.

I didn’t have much of a plan. I just remembered a field trip we’d taken several years ago so I exited on SE 8th Street with a vague idea of heading to Kelsey Creek Park and hanging out. We never made it there. We had the music up loud. I wasn’t paying near enough attention to the road. I was fifteen and I found out real quick that a car was a lot more difficult to negotiate than a dirt bike. Long story short, our fucking good time came to an abrupt end when we rammed into the train trestle at a good thirty-five mile an hour clip.

Face stinging, my nose wrinkled from the unpleasant chemical odor that came from the deployed airbag I was buried in. I disentangled myself from the sticky material that didn’t seem to want to let me go and glanced to the side. War’s face was bright red like someone had bitch slapped him. I’m sure I looked exactly the same.

“I’m ok,” War assured me, his wide rounded brown eyes meeting mine. “Just kinda woozy and sore.”

That’s exactly how I felt. Without saying anymore, we released our seatbelts and unlatched our doors. As I got out, I noticed there weren’t even any skid marks on the road because I hadn’t reacted in time to apply the brakes. I looked at War over the roof of the car. “We’d better get out of here, dude.”

“And fast,” he added unnecessarily, looking more than a little freaked. We hit the ground running flat out, adrenaline high and breathing hard. But we weren’t fast enough. A couple of cops in a squad car passed by us, did a double take, and u-turned.

Shit.

“Let me take care of this Bry,” War hissed under his breath.

“What are you going to do?” I questioned low, my eyes having gone wide and my heart pounding hard as the cops pulled up beside us.

War gave me a serious as shit look. “I think it’s been established that I take care of my friends, right?”

My chin dipped in acknowledgment. It certainly had. He’d pulled my ass out of the fire plenty of times. Most recently taking the blame when I’d spray painted some choice obscenities on the bathroom wall at school.

I had a lot of anger issues since my old man had come back.

“You know that’s just me, but further and more important is that my mom won’t give a shit if I get in trouble, hell she probably won’t even notice, but yours will. You’ve got a good thing going with your mom.”

I nodded.

“We both know that if she found out you did something like this, it would wreck all that. So I’ll repeat. Let me handle this.”

As we stood there together side by side out on the rain slickened pavement and watched the cops approach, my fritzed out thoughts were all over the place. But above the static, what hit me big was what War hadn’t said, yet I understood, especially after the deal with his father today…

I was the only real family Warren Jinkins had.

1

The Present

I woke with my head pounding out a heavy bass throb. I glanced at my watch. Four fucking a.m. I’d only been asleep for a couple of hours. The bottle of tequila had obviously been a big mistake. My mouth tasted like sand. I needed a bottled water and at least two extra strength Tylenol.

I climbed out of my bunk, cursing when my toes came into contact with the freezing floor of the tour bus. The force of the winter storm wind rocked the forty-five foot long structure side to side and howled beneath the undercarriage. I pulled on yesterday’s jeans and grabbed a pack of cigarettes and my lighter before pushing the button to open the pocket door to the front lounge. A woman sat at the banquette with her back to me, but I’d recognize her anywhere.

Lace.

I froze solid. I wondered when she had come on board. It must have been last night while I’d been preoccupied with the twins. Mind quickly running back over the evening’s events, I realized that War had been conspicuously absent from the meet and greet. He must’ve been with her. The familiar jealous burn seared the inside of my chest like battery acid.

Her head turned slightly, eyes the color of expensive whiskey meeting mine. Her face was as captivatingly beautiful as I remembered, framed by honey blond hair that was much longer than it’d been the last time I’d seen her. She was thinner, too. Too thin. Her cheek bones more prominent, her complexion pale, even her wide lips seemed drained of their usual apricot color.

“Bryan.”

That breathy voice of hers shot right to my groin. Even hung over and recently satiated my dick came right to attention. Clamoring after what it could never have. What I could never have.

The woman War loved.

“Lace.” I took my time running my gaze over her. The black long sleeved Tempest t-shirt War had worn on stage last night hung down to mid-thigh on her. Knowing damn well what was underneath that shirt. Remembering the shape, the texture, and the taste of her, my hands started to shake so badly I had to shove them into the back pockets of my jeans so she wouldn’t notice.

Lace gave me a darting sidelong glance while bringing her long shapely legs closer together. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked nervous. I didn’t get it. So what if I was shirtless with my jeans half-buttoned. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen me this way before. I wasn’t gonna cover up for her.

She licked her lips. “Nipple ring’s new,” she observed quietly.

“Yeah, nice of you to notice.” I got my legs going and moved toward her, motioning to the banquette. “Scoot over.” Holding the hem in place over her ass and thighs, she slid toward the window making room for me. I flopped down on the padded two-person bench seat and stared at her profile. “You get in last night?”

“Yeah.” She shifted away from me, just a tad, but enough that I definitely noticed. She twisted her hands so tightly together that her fingertips turned red.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded to know, even though secretly I was glad to see her. My eyes drank her in head to bare toes in a greedy gulp, cataloguing every line and curve. It’d been too long since I’d seen her. “I thought you were with Martin now.” Lace had started up with him right after we’d signed our first record deal. War had been apoplectic. I’d just hidden how I felt like I’d been doing for as long as I could remember. My friendship with War left me with no other choice. “He’d kick your ass if he knew you were here. War’s, too.”

I’d been joking around, but when she turned her head, I sucked in a sharp breath wishing I hadn’t. The left side of her face was a collage of overlapping fading purple and yellow bruises. It was obvious she had been hit hard, multiple times.

I squeezed the side of the table with both hands wishing I could get ahold of Martin’s neck instead.

I was going to kill that mother fucker.

“Yeah, well, as you can see he already took care of that.” A spark of defiance brightened her eyes, giving me a glimpse of the vibrant woman I remembered. “I didn’t stick around to give him the chance to make both sides match.”

“What the hell happened?”

Her shoulders sagged, the momentary flash of sass disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. She was quiet for so long I didn’t think she planned to answer. “It’s not important. Not anymore. It’s over between us.” She had that stubborn tilt to her jaw that I recognized. I wasn’t going to get any more information out of her than she wanted to give.

“Does Martin know it’s over?”

“Oh yeah, I think his fists made that perfectly clear.”

“You mean to tell me that he broke it off with you?” I asked unable to disguise the disbelief in my tone. The guy was an idiot as well as an asshole. What man in his right mind would give up Lace if he had her?

Her eyes slid to her lap. After a brief pause, she nodded. Her sexy lips pressed together into a tight line. “I pawned the engagement ring he gave me for a bus ticket out here,” she confided.

Most women I knew would’ve teared up after all this, but not Lace. She never cried. Strike that. She never cried anymore. When we’d been kids she cried a helluva lot. But the last time had been that horrible night, the night we were supposed to go to the Metallica concert.

“I’m sorry.” I reached over and covered her delicate hand with my own.

“Don’t be,” she returned evenly, slowly sliding her hand out from under mine. “Martin was just another mistake in a long line of them.” She watched me through a gap in the curtain of her gold hair. “What about you, Bullet?” Her eyes took on a mischievous glint. “Or should I say?” She paused and added in an orgasmic sounding breathless moan. “Oh Bullet! Faster! Harder!’” The corner of her mouth lifted with amusement at my expense.

I winced. Shit. She’d heard me in the back bedroom with the twins. I didn’t usually go for multiples. It was too much work, but after getting the brush off from Avery, the beautiful lead guitarist of Brutal Strength, I’d felt as if I had something to prove.

“You know me, Lace.” I watched her face carefully. “I don’t do relationships.” I got up and moved to the refrigerator, pulling out a couple of bottled waters.

“Yeah, that’s not something I’m likely to forget.” Her voice sounded strained. I felt the undercurrent of meaning just beneath the surface of the words we were saying to each other. I swung back around, but her eyes didn’t give anything away. “I’m sorry. I was just messing with you,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hands that I didn’t buy. “What you do with your personal life is none of my business. No offense, ok?”

“None taken,” I replied uneasily. I handed her one of the waters, and she took it before turning away to look out the window. I grabbed the Tylenol bottle from the table and knocked back a couple of tablets while watching her.

We were silent for a while, both lost in our own thoughts. There was tension between us, but it was familiar and not entirely uncomfortable. I had known Lace Lowell practically all my life. I’d never forget our first meeting at the apartment where we lived at the University House. I had been seven. She had been five.

14 years ago

“Get the door Bry.” My mom was cooking in the open galley kitchen, but her voice carried easily across the small space separating it from the living room where I’d been sitting playing my video game.

“Sure, Mom.” The sizzle of the cooking meat and the aroma of garlic and cheese from my favorite flavor of Hamburger Helper filled the apartment. It made my stomach grumble. I dropped the controller onto the soft throw my mom used to make the old couch from Goodwill look nicer and stomped over to the door. “Who is it?” I asked before opening it just like she’d taught me to do.

“Dizzy Lowell,” was the muffled reply.

I grinned. Dizzy was my new best friend, and yeah that was his real name. His mom felt that way a lot before he was born. He sat in the desk in front of me in Miss Harper’s second grade class. We traded Pokemon cards at recess and played this really fun game at lunch where we tried to gross each other out mixing different items from our lunch trays. Today, Dizzy won. He had stuffed his bread roll into his chocolate milk carton and added ketchup. I’d laughed so hard at the face he had made that milk had come out my nose.

“Hey,” he said when I opened the door. His long blond hair was all messed up. My mom would not have let me out of the house with my hair like that. But Dizzy looked like that all the time. His clothes were usually dirty, too. “I had to bring my little sister with me. Is that ok?”

“Sure.” I opened the door wider and watched the little girl follow him inside. Her hair and eyes were the same color as his, and her small hand was fisted in the material of his worn out jeans.

Dizzy stopped in front of our TV. His mouth dropped open. “You have Pokemon!” he shouted.

I nodded. “I told you. My mom says we can play until dinner is ready.”

Dizzy spun around and squatted down in front of his sister. He put his hands on her shoulders. Her bottom lip stuck out and she looked like she wanted to cry. “Lace, don’t be afraid, ok? Bryan’s cool.” He tugged on one of her braids and helped her up on the couch. “Sit here, right next to me.” She watched me with her light brown eyes, but she didn’t move or make a sound the entire time we played. That was weird. I was used to my younger sisters. When they were awake, they were a royal pain in the rear. They got into all my stuff and they never shut up.

“Bry,” my mom called out after we had been playing for a while. Beside me, Lace squeaked and tried to climb behind her brother’s back.

Shoot, I thought. We were just getting to the good part.

“Time to stop.” My mom came in. She was drying her hand on a kitchen towel. Lace started shaking. My mom frowned as she looked at her. “I’m going to wake your sisters from their nap,” she said in a soft voice. “I’ll be right back.”

“Why’s she so scared?” I whispered to Dizzy after she left the room.

“Lace is afraid of grown-ups.” He turned around and touched her back. “Come on. Stop hiding. It’s time to go.”

“Wait,” I said. “Maybe you can stay a little longer. Let me ask my mom.” When my mom came back in the living room, I gave her my best puppy dog eyes. “Can we have five more minutes, please,” I begged. “We’re almost done.”

She leaned over the couch and ruffled my hair. I knew her answer before she said it. Puppy dog eyes worked every time. “Dizzy,” she asked using a soft voice. “Would you and your sister like to stay and eat dinner with us?”

“We can’t.” Dizzy stuck his hands in his pockets and stared down at his dirty sneakers. “My mom wants us in our rooms by six.”

“Maybe Saturday for lunch then?”

“Sure.” Dizzy gave her a big smile before asking to use the restroom. He went to the back and my mom returned to the kitchen. I snuck a peak at Lace. She had her legs pulled up under her chin and her arms wrapped around them. I was the man of the house and my mom told me my job was to take care of the girls. It made me sad to see Lace looking so scared. I wanted to make her smile.

I scooted closer to her. She put her cheek on her knee and watched me. I stuck my tongue out at her and rolled my eyes. Her lips twitched. I put my hand under my arm pit and made the farty sound a couple of times.

She giggled.

Yes. I slid right beside her, happy when she didn’t move away. “I like your eyes,” I said in a soft voice like my mom had used. “They’re pretty.”

She gave me a smile so big I noticed that her top two front teeth were missing. “Are you Printh Charming?” she asked me with a lisp.

“Uh-uh.” As if.

Dizzy came back in the room and grinned at me as he flopped back on the sofa. He must have heard that last bit.

“I am going to marry you someday,” Lace said with a nod like it was a done deal. “When I am growed up and pretty like Cinderella.”

I started to laugh but choked it back when I saw how serious she looked. It seemed so important to her that I found myself agreeing. Even though I knew Dizzy would never let me hear the end of it.

And here we were all these years later and Lace Lowell still had the ability to tie me up in knots. I still wanted to protect and please her. But because of War I was powerless to do either.

Some fucked up fairy tale I was living.

She stared out the one way windows. There was nothing to see. It was dark and we were parked between two buildings with only an occasional flicker of white from blowing snow to break up the monotony of the view.

“What’s Avery Jones like?” she asked turning abruptly to face me.

I tensed, thought a moment, and chose my words carefully. “Helluva guitarist.”

She swallowed. “And?”

“And nothing.” I shrugged. “She’s back with Marcus Anthony now if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Sorry. I saw some pictures.” There was an edge to her voice that hadn’t been there before. “It seemed like she might be important to you.”

I seriously contemplated telling her right then and there that she was the only woman that had ever been important to me when I heard the door slide open behind us.

“Guys it’s four fucking a.m.” Voice gruff with disapproval, War’s appearance brought our intimate predawn reunion to an end. Looking wan and strung out, the lead singer of Tempest shuffled into view wearing a pair of red boxers and scratched his bare chest. “Come on back to bed, babe.” He held out his hand to her while shooting me an irritated glance.

She patted my knee and I took the cue to scoot out of the booth ahead of her so she could exit.

War threw a proprietary arm around her shoulders as soon as her bare feet hit the floor. “Night, Loser.”

“Night, Asshole.”

War gave me the finger before he closed the door.

I stared at it for a long time. Nothing had fucking changed. Twenty thousand people screaming my name during my guitar solo at the Garden, plus two twins, but none of that mattered to me. Not when my best friend had the woman I’d always wanted.

2

My mind remembered how badly Bryan Jackson had hurt me, but my traitorous body wanted me to forget. It wanted me to go back, wrap my legs around that washboard waist of his, curl my fingers into his tatted biceps, fuse my mouth to his and beg him to make me moan instead of those twins. Fortunately for me, my mind overruled and the nail prints in my palms were the only casualty I sustained after this particular run in with Bryan.

I followed War to the bedroom, past the triple stack of sleeping bunks where my brother and the other band members slept. He was tall, about a half inch taller than Bryan, and his slender frame dwarfed the full sized bed as he crawled into it and held the covers out for me. Knee to the mattress, I slid underneath and shimmied close. An errant caramel colored strand tickled my nose as I laid my cheek against his smooth chest, right over his solid black heart tattoo. I tried to make myself relax while he stroked my hair.

“You ok, babe?” His deep voice rumbled beneath my ear and I imagined his brown eyes were probably crinkled with concern.

“Yeah.” I lied. The truth was too depressing for anybody to want to hear.

“Why were you up?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Need another hit?”

Not more coke. I was too juiced up on that already, my heart racing and my pupils dilated and light sensitive. Seeing Bryan again had brought back all the old memories that I didn’t want to dwell on anymore. I was faithful to only one lover now. One that I couldn’t live without.

“Sure. Set me up a rig.” I rolled back my sleeve, mouth drying and my heart hammering in anticipation.

War placed it on a spoon, added a few drops of water, and flicked on a cigarette lighter. The mixture began to bubble and liquefy in response to the blue flame underneath.

I held my breath; eyes fixated on the weak coffee colored liquid as War removed the needle caps and drew up two syringefuls, flicking them to remove the bubbles. I held out my arm, not surprised that it shook, not surprised at how badly I wanted it. I’d gone days without and I was just beginning to feel the first pangs of withdrawal.

I’d been one of the unlucky ones. Instead of getting sick and shunning it forever, I’d fallen in love with it from that first time back in Martin’s apartment. Since then, I’d constantly craved that euphoric high. The one that makes all the pain fade away. The one that makes you feel like you’ve transcended all your problems. The one that makes you feel like you’re in heaven.

Too bad it was only temporary. Too bad it was all a lie.

Fifteen seconds later my head felt light, and my limbs felt heavy. War and I stared at each other, eyes and minds unfocused and uncaring. An hour later, he was completely out, but not me. Drugs could only mask the truth for so long. I was broken beyond repair, my life in tatters all around me. No matter how much shit I did, my mind still raced around in pointless circles. There were no easy answers. I was so far off course now that I didn’t see any way to make it right. And though it seemed as if I’d suddenly woken up one day to find myself here in this hellhole, the reality was that I’d slid down this slippery slope by making one poor decision after another.

War shifted, the sheets rustling softly as he turned on his side facing away from me. Being alone in the dark was something I’d grown accustomed to. He fell asleep quickly, the sound of his breathing evening out. As the lonely minutes of the night droned slowly on toward morning, I remained awake. My thoughts drifted to Bryan as they often did. If possible he’d gotten even better looking since I’d seen him last. His light brown hair trimmed short into a faux hawk was the perfect style to offset his gorgeous greyish green eyes and that shadowed masculine jaw of his. It was disheartening to discover that the years apart hadn’t lessened the hold he had over me.

I’d idolized Bryan Jackson for as long as I could remember. He treated me with the same respect he did his own sisters, and I loved him for that. He and my brother were the only protectors I had in a neighborhood where drug deals and drive bys were commonplace, in a world where even my own apartment hadn’t been safe.

9 years ago

“Hi, Lace.” Ms. Jackson looked up at me as I entered the apartment with the key she’d given Dizzy and me years before. She’d wanted to be sure we had somewhere safe to go whenever our mom was strung out.

“Bryan ready?” I asked, wondering where he was.

“He’s in the shower. He should be out any minute.” She laid aside the pants she’d been sewing on. They were an old pair of mine that she’d been adding material to so I could wear them longer. “I can’t believe he won Metallica tickets. Are you as excited as he is about going?”

I nodded.

“Come and sit with me.” Ms. Jackson patted the cushion beside her. Though it had a new slipcover, it was the same old couch I’d buried my head in the first time I’d met Bryan. The time I told him I was going to marry him someday. That was still my plan. Only now I was mature enough that I didn’t speak every random thought out loud.

I took a seat next to my future mother-in-law and plucked at the loose threads on my frayed jeans. Grownups still made me nervous. She touched my hand and smiled. Her smile was just like his. It made her eyes sparkle. His mom was really nice. Nothing at all like mine. She was always doing things to help Dizzy and me out without making it seem like it was charity.

“How’s school?”

“Fine.”

“Bry says you made the top grades in your class again.”

I shrugged, but inside I was always pleased by Bryan’s praise. “In everything but math. I hate it.”

There was a long silent pause. Finally, I heard the shower shut off. The one bedroom apartments at the University House high rise were small, even by public housing standards. All had the same layout, too. The kitchen, dining, and living room were in one room with the bedroom and bathroom down a short hallway in the back. Bryan’s family of four was cramped inside the tight space. His sisters and mom shared the only bedroom while he slept on the couch.

Despite the shared floor plan, Bryan’s apartment and mine couldn’t have been more different. Bryan’s mom was always adding little decorative touches like the slipcover that transformed their place from an apartment to a home. My apartment was a disaster zone, littered with trash, dirty laundry, and my mom’s pipes and needles. Whenever she was on a long binge, like her current one, it got even worse. Dangerous, paranoid, and unpredictable, she holed up in her room for days. She didn’t even bathe. It was a relief to be able to escape, even if it was only for a little while.

“Hey, Lace,” Bryan acknowledged as he walked around the couch, running a brush through his wet hair. “Where’s Dizzy?”

“Should be here soon.” Dizzy had a weekend job bussing tables and washing dishes at Mr. Spinelli’s Greek restaurant on the Ave. “He’s changing clothes.” Though at twelve he was way too young to officially hold a job, Mr. Spinelli overlooked that and paid Dizzy in cash. That money helped us purchase the basic things we needed like food, toiletries, and school supplies.

Suddenly, there was a loud thump from the apartment above.

My apartment.

I froze, eyes to the ceiling, listening intently. I heard yelling, and then an ominous crash. I jumped up, my heart racing. “I’d better check and see what’s going on.” I hurried to the door, throwing a quick glance at Bryan. His worried expression probably matched my own. He was the only one who really knew how bad things were up there.

“Lace, wait.” Ms. Jackson’s voice followed me out into the hall, but I ignored her. I flew up the stairwell and burst through the door of my apartment. Fear transformed into full blown terror as I took in the scene. Two drug dealers I recognized stood at opposite sides of the room, one stood near my mother, the other held Dizzy who was struggling to break free.

“Lace, get out of here quick!” he yelled.

I bolted for the door but I wasn’t fast enough. Two meaty hands landed on my shoulders and I found myself spun around looking at the long stringy haired pusher.

“She’s a pretty one, Mama.” His rancid breath nearly made me puke as he leered down at me. I started to shake.

“Leave her alone!” Dizzy shouted while twisting violently in the arms of the wide bodied man restraining him. “She’s just a kid.”

“Sean likes ‘em young,” the wide bodied dealer explained. His fat lips curled into a sneer.

Fingers digging painfully into the sensitive flesh of my upper arms, Sean backed me up against the wall. Bile burned the back of my throat as he let go of one arm to touch my cheek. Warm tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes.

“Mama,” Sean threw a meaningful glance her way. “If you want your candy. I get your daughter. That’s the deal.”

“No!” Dizzy shouted. “Let her go, you piece of shit.”

“Shut him the fuck up, Trace,” Sean ordered harshly.

I heard a sharp metallic click. My eyes widened as I watched Trace bring a switchblade up to my brother’s throat. My chest got so tight I could barely breathe. I shook my head.

“You heard him little man,” Trace warned my brother. “Be quiet.” A volcano of ineffectual anger erupted inside Dizzy’s eyes.

I looked to my mother for help. “Please, Momma,” I pleaded. “Tell them no. Make them go away.”

Eyes dull and lifeless, my mother’s gaze went right through me as if I didn’t even exist. Sean yanked my arm and pulled me toward the bedroom.

“No,” I rasped, trying to slow him down by dragging my feet. “I’ll scream.”

“You better not, or I’ll have Trace carve up that brother of yours,” Sean’s fingernails scratched my arms making more tears sting my eyes. “And stop your bawling. Tears don’t change a damn thing in this shitty world. You’re old enough to know better.”

He kicked the door closed and had me pinned to the bed within seconds. I struggled at first, but stopped when I realized he seemed to like that. His body was so heavy on top of mine that I found it difficult to breathe, and when I felt his slimy hands slithering up under my shirt, I stopped wanting to try.

I turned my head toward the door, withdrew inside myself, and pretended I wasn’t even there. Just as I felt the welcome blackness begin to take me under, I heard a heavy pounding and voices outside the door.

“Police.” That one word was my lifeline. It gave me the strength to renew my struggle.

Sean threw a furtive glance at the window, but our apartment was on the eleventh floor, so that wasn’t going to work out very well for him. Evidently reaching the same conclusion, he gave me a hard shake before he jumped off me. “Keep your mouth shut or I’ll come back for you and your brother. I know a guy who likes little boys. Understand?”

I nodded, scurried off the bed, and slid down into the far corner of the room, wanting as much distance between him and me as I could possibly get. I pulled my knees to my chest as he threw open the door. I watched him skid to a halt in front of a cop’s drawn gun.

“Turn around. Hands up on the wall, Evans,” the uniformed officer ordered. “I should have known slime balls like you and Carson would be involved in something like this.” Behind him, I could see that another officer had already restrained Trace. My mother stood vacantly beside them making no effort to come to me.

“Detective Shannon. So nice to see you,” Sean returned, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I suggest you exercise your right to remain silent.” Detective Shannon’s gaze swept over me as he cuffed Sean. “You can come in.” He glanced over his shoulder. “The girl’s in here. Looks pretty shaken up.”

I heard footsteps. Dizzy appeared first, tearing up when he saw me, Ms. Jackson right behind him. Dizzy crossed the room and knelt down on the floor in front of me. He reached out his arms.

“No.” I shook my head. “Don’t touch me.”

Dizzy withdrew looking hurt. I noticed Bryan hovering in the doorway watching us with a worried frown. Shame darkened my cheeks. I laid my head down on my crossed arms and closed my eyes, trying to block everything out.

“Let me talk to her.” I heard Ms. Jackson say. “I think she’ll respond better to a woman right now.” I felt the warmth from her body as she sank down beside me. She gently stroked my hair. “You did nothing wrong, Lace,” she soothed in her soft voice. “But you need to tell the police the truth. You and Dizzy can’t stay here anymore with your mom. It’s not safe.”

Dizzy and I had moved in with our uncle after that. He’d been a mean son of a bitch, but he didn’t knock us around and at least we were off the Avenue.

I didn’t see Bryan again until high school, and by then I was so full of myself. My ego had inflated right along with my cup size. I’d believed my good looks and curves would be my salvation, my way out from under the shameful shadow my mother had cast over me. I was so certain that I’d make something out of my life.

I’d been wrong.

3

I paced while waiting for my family. They were coming in to catch our second performance at the Garden. Over in the corner, War, the lucky bastard, had his arms wrapped around Lace. She wasn’t smiling but looked rocker chick sexy having knotted a tour t-shirt underneath her breasts in a way that accentuated them and exposed a great deal of skin above a pair of dark jeans that fit her like a glove.

Watching the two of them together made me even more edgy. I looked away, spinning the leather cuff on my watchband around to check the time again. Thirty more minutes before we went on. Shit. Since we were the opening band for the mega group Brutal Strength there was no way Tempest could go on late.

Where were they? Their plane landed hours ago. Last night’s winter storm probably had something to do with the delay.

“Bry.”

I turned in relief at the sound of a trio of familiar voices calling my name and had only seconds to brace myself before being enveloped in a group hug. “Mom.” I kissed the top of the brunette head that only came to the center of my chest now. My mom might be tiny, but a more resilient woman I’d never met, except perhaps for one other. The crap hand life had dealt my mom hadn’t made her bitter. She’d only become more determined to succeed, sacrificing everything over the years to take care of me and my sisters. I could never repay her for all of that, but that sure as hell wasn’t going to stop me from trying.

I rocked back on the heels of my favorite pair of motorcycle boots and looked at my younger sisters. Miriam was the oldest, a senior now. Her I worried about the most. Though as driven as my mom to succeed, she had a talent for getting into trouble. She acted first and thought things through second…if at all. Recently, it’d taken quite a bit of finesse on my mom’s part to keep the school from suspending her when she’d been caught up on the roof having an impromptu snowball fight with her friends from the drama department. Miriam’s vivacious personality and good looks were ideal for the career she wanted as an actress. If only she could stay out of trouble.

“What the hell are you wearing?” I whispered in Miriam’s ear. “It’s freezing outside and you’re practically coming out of that blouse.”

“Lighten up, Bry.” She smiled and flipped a lock of black hair over her shoulder. Eyes the same grey green as my own twinkled mischievously. “It’s a rock concert not Mass.”

Before I could pursue the matter further, my sister Ann, a book tucked under her arm, threw her arms around my waist and hugged me pretty damn tight. My heart warmed. I returned the hug with equal enthusiasm. Ann I didn’t worry about. She was just as studious as Miriam, but with a gentle soul and a level head. I tucked a strand of her straight brown hair behind her ear. She peered up over the top of her plastic frames at me.

“Still enjoying working weekends at the veterinary clinic?” I asked her.

The enthusiastic smile on her face broadened. “I’ve got two shifts now. Mom says when I’m a junior I can add one day during the week, too.”

“That’s great, Ann.” Animals were her passion. Always had been. Though we’d never been able to have a real pet, she’d collected the stuffed versions since she was three. She wouldn’t give any of them away and had so many now that they covered all the built in shelves in her bedroom. I planned to get her a real live Labrador puppy to go along with the house I was saving up to buy for all three of them.

“War says to tell you we’re on in five,” King announced.

I nodded, turning back to my family, frowning when I caught the look that passed between our drummer and Miriam. What the hell? King was totally checking her out. I was gonna kill him. And eff it if Miriam wasn’t returning the favor. Dammit. She was even arching her back to make her boobs look bigger.

I grabbed her arm.

“Bry,” Miriam hissed. “You’re hurting me.”

I ignored her, guiding all three of my women to one of the roadies I trusted. “Mark, can you take my mom and sisters to their seats?”

“Sure thing, Bullet.”

“Thanks.” I laid a palm against my mom’s soft cheek. “Mark will bring you backstage after the show. I want to introduce you to all the tour personnel.”

“Can we meet Avery Jones?” Miriam asked face bright with anticipation.

My smile flat lined. It’d been a bit of work, but I’d managed to avoid Red since she’d dumped me. But far better to spend the evening with her than endure another night watching Lace with War. “Sure.” I sighed.

4

I sat on the top of a stack of amps, watching the Jackson family reunion, on the outside now looking in, extinguishing the desire to be included with them again before it could unfurl completely. My chin dropped down to my chest, the length of my hair sliding forward effectively concealing the longing on my face.

Stop it, I told myself. That kind of family love and loyalty in all its Hallmark loveliness wasn’t for me. Once upon a time maybe, but not anymore.

Why couldn’t I accept the way things were? I didn’t belong with them anymore, no matter how much I wished things were different, and Bryan was never going to be mine. My gaze followed him after his mom and sisters left and he moved to take the stage.

I hopped down from my corner perch and wandered closer as Bryan and the guys got ready to perform. I’d arrived too late last night to see the show. I watched King take off his shirt as he climbed up onto the drum riser, and my eyes widened at what I saw. I shook my head in appreciative disbelief. When had King gotten those guns? He used to be the chubby one. Not even remotely so now. He was as cut as an Abercrombie and Fitch model, a sexy Latino one with his square jaw and bronze skin and dark closely cropped hair.

My gaze drifted over to Sager, the other half of Tempest’s comic duo. He and King had been best friends as long as Bryan and War. Everyone in the band knew their constant joking was really a coping mechanism, their way of dealing with the crap they’d been through. Their humor was as much a part of who they were as the clothes they wore, although Sager wasn’t wearing much right now, just faded jeans. The lanky bassist had recently dyed his curly brown hair jet black. Long uneven wisps of it framed his angular face.

Bryan came over and said something to him that I couldn’t hear. Sager nodded, pulled his signature newsboy cap down lower over his brown eyes, and pointed his hawkish nose to the floor as he tuned his Fender.

Bryan’s gaze flicked to me.

And I couldn’t make myself look away. Those light colored eyes of his I could stare at for hours if the rest of him wasn’t equally as enthralling. The thick black ink of his tats scrolled fluidly over the bulges of his biceps down to his wrists where an assortment of black leather and silver bracelets were stacked together. Just like the other guys, he was shirtless, and I found myself lusting after the sexy lead guitarist of Tempest. His chest was smooth, his abdomen flat, and his narrow hips were laced into a pair of tight black leather pants. War called to him and he turned away, giving me a view of his backside.

Even his ass was perfection.

I swallowed to moisten my dry throat.

Bryan sauntered across the stage in heavy biker boots and met War at center stage. War clapped him on the shoulder before plucking the mic out of its stand. Giving me a wink, War then faced the audience, his hands draped lazily over the mic stand waiting while a man in wire rimmed glasses finished the band’s introduction.

His spiky platinum hair gleaming beneath the stage lights, my brother plugged in his favorite Gibson Plaintop, made an adjustment on his footboard, gave Bryan a thumbs up, and flashed me his infamous double dimpled smile.

I smiled proudly back. I didn’t envy Dizzy his success. He deserved to be out on that stage. He was one of the best rhythm guitarists I’d ever heard, though I was a little biased for sure. His steady reliable pacing gave Bryan the freedom he needed to go all crazy on lead. My heart squeezed. I’d missed my easy going brother so much. Maybe if he’d been around, I would’ve had the guts to leave Martin sooner.

2 weeks prior

“Go ahead and leave, bitch,” Martin told me in that same disaffected voice he always used whenever I threatened to leave. Which wasn’t often anymore.

After all what other choice did I have?

I had no money, and I wasn’t welcome back in my uncle’s house. I’d tried to go back there the first time Martin had hit me. “You’re just like your mother,” he’d told me.

Turns out he’d been right.

I pressed my lips together, my vision blurring as I stared at my arms. Just looking at them made me long to shoot up again. I hated what I’d become, and I hated Martin, but I loved the drugs more. I craved that next high more than food or water, more than oxygen, more than life, more than love. I’d do just about anything for that next fix. And that’s what gave Martin the power he had over me.

My gaze slid to Martin as he slipped the Glock into his shoulder holster and pulled on a jacket. His eyes hard and dark as flint met mine. He was handsome, except for his eyes. If the eyes really were windows to the soul, I should have realized much sooner that he didn’t have one.

His gaze was cold, emotionless, and calculating as he studied me. A growing sense of unease flooded my body, making my pulse pound and my respiration increase. There’d been thinly veiled statements from him lately, pressure to do things that I’d been able to deflect, but didn’t know for how much longer.

When we first met he’d been kind, and I’d believed there’d been something worth having between us, but now I was just as certain it’d been wishful thinking. I’d been wrong about so many things.

One thing I was sure of- guys just wanted a piece of me. They would say or do what they needed until they got it, and then they were gone.

Bryan was the first to make me feel that way. I never realized how much I needed and took his approval for granted until it was withdrawn. My throat clogged remembering his callous dismissal of what I’d thought we shared.

What a stupid little girl I’d been.

Never welcome.

Never wanted.

My mother had been right all along.

A part of me, the part with dreams, the beautiful part, had been snuffed out by darkness. Fear had replaced hope and apathy had replaced fear until all that remained was this empty frame, a place card for the woman I’d once been, still pretty to look at, but hollow inside.

Martin grabbed my shoulders, squeezing just hard enough to hurt. I looked up at him, gritting my teeth together, keeping my expression as neutral as possible. I’d had to adapt quickly to survive his sadistic streak. He enjoyed breaking people down so he could control them. Most of the time he didn’t get physical, as long as I didn’t show weakness. It was strength he admired. My backbone. What remained of it anyway, that he respected.

“I’ve got some China White coming in tonight.” His coal black eyes searched mine. “I’ll bring you a bindle.”

“Alright.” My lips curved up into a thin caricature of a smile.

His answering grin was a travesty as well, feral and predatory. He didn’t even try to hide his disdain for me as he went out the door. Why should he? He had me. He knew that. He always seemed to know everything. Just like he’d known how susceptible I’d be to him and his brand of fake charm the first night we’d hooked up together.

I’d had an idea who Martin Skellin was before that night. His reputation had always scared me away, but after being tossed aside by everyone I’d ever trusted, I hadn’t really cared what happened to me or who I did it with.

I should have…

because although Martin was attentive in the beginning, using his influence to get me a job singing at a local club, his true colors began to bleed through shortly afterward. He was into some serious illegal shit. I woke up nights, seeing and hearing things that I wished I hadn’t. Suspicion became a reality that I tried but couldn’t ignore.

Then Tempest hit it big and Martin had a new game to control me, a more effective way to break me down. He began showing me articles and pictures of the guys and loved to point out what a big success they were without me. I tried pretending it didn’t matter thinking eventually he would give it up and move onto something else, something less painful, but he hadn’t.

Instead, he honed in on my weakest spot.

Bryan.

An explicit YouTube video of the infamous bad boy guitarist of Tempest became the final wrecking ball that demolished the wall I’d carefully built around what remained of my heart. The wall that had already started to crumble, the wall that wasn’t nearly as strong as I’d needed it to be.

After that I gave in and regularly took what Martin had offered before. I did whatever, whenever. Why shouldn’t I? Forgotten and abandoned by those I’d loved, it was inevitable where I was going to end up. Better to get it over with and fast pass the trip.

I learned to compartmentalize my life. I stuck the bad stuff into a box and pretended it didn’t exist. And when the needle was under my skin, when the drugs hit my bloodstream, everything else did fade away. I lost the will to care about anything. I stopped dreaming about the future, and settled for shuffling through the lucid times like the living dead until the next time I could get high.

I waited up late that night for Martin. He came back as promised, but he hadn’t come alone. Strader was with him. Tall and thin with a gnarled face, Strader’s brand of evil made Martin’s seem angelic.

I rose from the couch, pulling my robe tightly closed with one hand fisted over my chest. Outwardly I tried to project confidence. Inside my nerves were all over the place. It wasn’t lost on me that both men tracked my movement with anticipatory gleams.

This wasn’t good.

“I’ll just leave you two alone to discuss business.” Chin down; I hustled toward the back bedroom.

“I’ll go with you.” Strader’s mouth practically drooled with lascivious intent.

What? No!

Eyes going wide, I looked to Martin for help.

“No, wait.” Martin held up his hand. “Let me talk to her first.”

Strader looked like he was going to refuse, but then his expression changed. “Sure.” He gave me a lurid grin, gaze raking me head to toes in a way that made my flesh crawl. “But just so you know, it’s gonna happen, willing or not.”

And there it was. There was no longer any doubt what he wanted, what he had come to get.

Me.

My heart began beating so fast it felt like my chest was going to explode. It was extremely unlikely I would be able to convince Martin to change mind. He owed Strader a lot of cash. Being under Martin’s thumb had been one thing, becoming a disposable plaything for a man like Strader was entirely another. I’d reached the end of the road, and I refused to go further, deciding right then and there that I’d rather die than endure whatever Strader had planned for me.

But I wasn’t going down easy.

A deadly calm fell over me as I watched Strader give Martin a tight nod. “I’m going out to the car. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

As soon as the door shut after him, I turned to Martin, chin lifted, hands balled into fists at my sides. “I won’t go with him.” I was so proud that my voice didn’t quiver.

He laughed. “Like you have any choice.” There wasn’t an ounce of mercy in his eyes.

What a fool I’d been to believe a man like Martin Skellin had ever cared for me.

He reached for me.

“No,” I managed to rasp though fear had sucked the air from my lungs. I shook my head vigorously and took a step back.

A mistake.

“You strung out bitch.” Martin’s eyes flared. He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me so hard my teeth clattered together and my thoughts became rattled. “You can and you will.”

“No.” My eyes burned, but I didn’t cry and I didn’t back down.

That’s when he lost it. I didn’t even see the blow coming. The force of the impact knocked me back on my heels. I tasted coppery blood in my mouth. He glared at me. I glared back, never hating anyone more than I did him in that moment. I went after him, pounding my fists ineffectually against his solid chest. He easily knocked my hands away and smacked my face again with his open palm.

I backed away covering my burning cheek with my hand. He’d hit me before, but he’d never looked at me with such malice. The entire left side of my face was a fiery blaze now. Frantically I retreated, looking around the room for something to defend myself with. Then he rocked me with another blow. His fist felt like a brick as it blasted into the left side of my skull. I reeled into a side table, knocking it over. Everything went black for a moment. When I blinked away the haze, I found myself on the floor with his body looming over me.

“Ok,” I mumbled. “I’ll go. I’ll go.”

Those lips I’d once thought handsome spread across his face into a dark as death smile. “Knew you’d see things my way.” He offered me his hand to lift me up. I offered him my left, but the fingers of my right hand closed tightly around the base of the broken lamp beside me.

As he leaned down, I swung it at Martin’s head with all I had in me. Brass and bone came together with a sickening crack. He lurched face forward into the carpet, and he didn’t get back up.

I fled down the hall and out into the night with just the clothes on my back and the engagement ring he’d given me to pawn.

Shaken by the memory, I shoved my trembling hands into my jeans and stuffed those dark thoughts back into the box. I leaned back against a column and forced myself to refocus on Tempest’s performance. The guys were well into their set now. They were polished and confident, and there was no awkward space where I’d once stood.

Not needed.

Not wanted.

As the disheartening reality of that sank in, my gaze stalled dispassionately on War. Wet and plastered to his head, his brown hair looked almost black. I watched him throw the tail end of his long lavender scarf behind his sweaty back as he strutted confidently across the width of the stage.

He’d made it so easy to resume our old relationship. I didn’t know why he had wanted me back, but he had, and I was grateful. He seemed to want to pretend that the past two years with the RCA deal and Martin had never happened, and that was just fine by me. We were on the same page in that regard though our reasons were undoubtedly different.

With Bryan, on the other hand, I was afraid there was never going to be a way back to the close friendship we’d had before. We never talked about the night we had spent together, but it was always there, an awkward and unbridgeable gap between us.

My eyes followed him as he prowled dangerously around the stage with his guitar, by far the sexiest guy I’d ever seen. Lids lowered, face an intense mask of concentration, I watched his fingers flying over his Les Paul. His instrument screamed like a complex climax above the rhythm of the current song. My blood heated remembering those nimble fingers and the effortless way they’d played my body with strikingly similar results.

Long after the music ended, my gaze lingered on Bryan and the puzzle he represented. There was still much of the handsome playful boy I remembered, but now some additional things much beyond his age. I wondered at the faint lines around his mouth and the guardedness in his manner that had not been there before.

I guessed the past two years had put some hard mileage on all of us.

5

“Where you been?” Every spike of Dizzy’s bleached hair was gelled into place when I arrived for sound check the next afternoon in Boston.

“Working out in the hotel rec room.” I set my iPhone in the dock and started to tune up my guitar.

“Your mom and the girls go back to Seattle last night?” His barbell piercing rose as he lifted his brow.

I nodded. I’d hated saying goodbye to my family, but even worse than that was the thought of sticking around to see the lovey dovey morning routine with Lace and War. Watching the two of them play house within the tight confines of the bus was pushing the limit of what I could take. She and War had disappeared last night right after the show and though I tried not to, imagining what they were doing in that back bedroom with the door closed made me almost physically ill. It was just as bad as it had ever been. I didn’t know how I was going to get a handle on it.

“You must’ve been at it really early. You were gone before I got up.” Eyes the same whiskey color as his sister’s narrowed suspiciously. “You been working out for two whole hours?”

“Yeah.” I slanted a brow. It hadn’t been near long enough.

“Trying to avoid War and my sister, huh?”

My head snapped up.

“Wish I could,” Dizzy shrugged out of his trademark black leather jacket and lowered his head down over his Ibanez RG, completely oblivious to my telling response. “When I left this morning they’d already started arguing at the top of their lungs. It was just like old times.”

“She tell you anything about what happened with Martin?”

“No.” Dizzy ran his tongue over the silver loop in his lip. “She doesn’t do heart to heart chats with me anymore. Besides, that always used to be your territory.”

“Hmm.” I grunted noncommittally. That came to an abrupt end two years ago. “I’d like to kill the son of a bitch for what he did to her.” I stomped down on my pedal board so violently that it bounced off the black hardwood surface.

“Me too, man. I wish she would’ve taken my advice and stayed away from him in the first place. But the way I hear it, the dude’s days are numbered anyway. Word is he’s gotten himself into a real tight spot. Owes a lot of money to higher ups and doesn’t have the funds to cover it.”

Before I could pimp him for more information, the sound of War’s raised voice reached us.

“What’d I tell you?” Dizzy’s chin lifted as War and Lace came into view. “They’re still going at it.”

“No, Warren Andrew Jinkins. I don’t want to.” Lace looked beautiful with her hair pulled back from her face in a messy bun, loose tendrils curling all around her neck, but her blond brows were drawn together. “I haven’t sung anything in over a year.” Her sexy lips pressed flat into a tight line. “Not in public anyway, and your label sure as hell won’t like it if I get up on stage during your set.”

“Come on, Lacey. Just do a number here at sound check.” War blocked her path, his tone turning coaxing. “I wanna hear that sexy voice of yours over the speakers.”

She shook her head, sidestepped around him, dropped down into an abandoned folding chair, and threw her coat on the floor.

Hands on his hips, War continued to glare daggers in her direction as King and Sager came strolling in side by side, the same height, though King weighed about twenty pounds more than Sager now, all of it muscle. He’d taken to drinking protein shakes and lifting weights with a religious fervor since his dad had the heart attack. He had his cell held out in front of Sager, the screen turned sideways. Sager bent his head to watch, his brown eyes hidden beneath unruly strands of inky hair. The bassist snickered at whatever King was showing him. Probably some YouTube video. Whenever he found something funny, he couldn’t wait to share it with Sager.

Smiling widely, Sager clapped King on the shoulder before they separated to get set up.

“War, come on, dude,” I cajoled, pulling his attention away from Lace. “We gotta get outta here by one, so they can change the set up for BS.”

“Alright,” War muttered after lobbing one more loaded glower at Lace. “We’re not through discussing this,” he warned her.

“Yeah, yeah.” She shot him the finger.

I hid my smile.

“You guys haven’t changed a bit. Two of the most stubborn people I know,” Dizzy observed. “Can’t you compromise?”

“Not when I’m right, and she’s wrong,” War explained with his usual arrogance, grabbing the center mic and turning his head back to look at me. “‘Truth.’” He dipped his chin. “Hit it, Bullet.”

I fingered the three string riff repeatedly to set the pace for the frenetic opening. Hips swaying back and forth to the beat in a serpentine pattern, War began the opening lyrics at the same time that King came crashing in with the drums, Dizzy with the rhythm, and Sager with his steady bass line.

I moved to stand between Sager and Dizzy, all three of us leaning back as a choreographed unit, instruments held pelvic level, jamming away together.

Except for a couple of interjected echoes by me during the chorus, ‘Truth’ was a vocal showpiece for our lead singer beginning to end.

“Holy shit!” Lace exclaimed after War let out the last primal yell. “Why didn’t you guys do that one in New York? It sounds even better live than it does on the recording.” She stood, smoothing the wrinkles from her black tunic top, and walked over to me, gesturing at my Les Paul. “How the hell do you do that?”

“Bullet’s pretty fast with his fingers.” Sager chuckled.

“Ah, so that’s how you got the nickname.” Lace smiled. “Faster than a bullet on the frets, huh?”

“Uh, sort of.” King shoved Sager. “Even faster to get a woman off. One time he even…”

“Shut it.” I cut in and glared at King.

Lace’s smile warbled, but she managed to right it.

“What?” King shrugged. “It’s Lace. It ain’t like she never heard that shit before.”

“If you bitches are done joking around,” War interjected. “I wanna have a serious word with you, Lacey.”

“Stop pushing me,” she said firmly, her hands fisting on her narrow jean clad hips. “And leave me the hell alone about it. I’m not changing my mind.”

“I’m thinking you will.” War angled closer. “Babe, you wasted way too much time and talent when you were with that asshole Martin.”

Lace’s eyes narrowed under the criticism. “Yeah, well, I’m not wasting any more of my time with you today when you’re acting like such an authoritative jerk.” She scooped her coat off the floor and stomped down the stage right stairs.

“Lacey, come back. Don’t be that way,” War called out after her, but she didn’t stop. Her angry strides took her quickly up the aisle past the rows of empty seats. She’d finished buttoning her coat by the time she disappeared through the double doors at the top. “Bryan.” War turned to me. “Keep an eye on her, will you? You know she won’t talk to me when she gets like this.”

“Alright.” Dizzy was right. This was just like old times. I unstrapped my guitar, placed it in the stand, and jogged after her, catching up to her at the other end of the mezzanine. “Lace. Hold up.” I grabbed her arm.

“Leave me alone, Bryan.” Jerking her arm free, she whirled around, her back straight as a board, her chin lifted, her eyes flashing. When she got all worked up like this she could be a handful. I also thought it was cute as hell, but I knew better than to mention that.

“Don’t take it out on me, Lace, just ‘cause you’re pissed at him.” She continued to scowl and I gave into a grin. “You know I’ve got more than a few inches on you.” I cocked a brow and took a step closer to demonstrate. “I’ll use that to my advantage if I have to.”

“Promise?” Her lips twitched. Hand to the center of my chest, she pushed me back.

Hell yes. I’d meant my height, but she’d obviously taken my comment in a whole other direction. It’d been too long since she’d flirted with me like this. I missed it. I missed her. I leaned into her hand, eyes focused on hers, nostrils flaring as my lungs drew in her familiar scent. She used to carry a tube of vanilla scented lotion around in her purse, and it had always pissed War off when she got the slippery stuff on the equipment. “C’mon.” I lowered my voice, pouring on the persuasion. I wanted to spend time with her today, for myself, not for War. “I haven’t seen you in years. We used to be really good friends. I miss that,” I admitted, speaking my thoughts out loud. I reached in my pocket for cigarettes. “There’s nothing exciting going on around here til seven. Why don’t we go hang? Explore Boston?”

“I’d like that,” she replied and then graced me with an all-out, eyes sparkling, rock my world Lace smile. My fingers tightened around the plastic wrapping of the cigarette pack. She was so fucking beautiful when she smiled. I’d forgotten how it could affect me. A hundred memories of her looking just like that came rushing to the surface of my mind as I basked in the radiant glow of the current one. I still wanted to do whatever it took to make her smile like that. Nothing had changed in that regard since we’d been kids.

6

I sat on a bench in the Commons with Bryan, sun heating my back. Picnickers crowded the park and children dashed back and forth between spread out blankets. Bostonians were out in droves enjoying the atypically warm January day. I stared at Bryan. His shades were pointed in the direction of a young girl with braids being chased in circles by a couple of boys.

“I remember when you used to have braids like that,” he mused. “Before your insanely annoying Brittany Spears phase.” He shifted, angling his long jean clad legs toward me.

He was so exceptionally handsome with his light brown hair peeking out from under the top of his black knit cap. Unfortunately the mirrored aviators he wore, though sexy, shielded his dark eyebrows and his gorgeous grey green eyes from view. My eyes traced the strong line of his stubble covered jaw and lingered on the sensual lips that I still fantasized about kissing.

I cleared my throat. “We used to be inseparable, you and Dizzy and me. Always pretending to be rock stars. Do you remember the time we built that stage in front of the House? How we got the other kids to pay fifty cents each just to see us perform?”

Giving me a bemused smile, he nodded. “Sheet for a curtain. Glass bottles for microphones. You had a stuffed snake for a prop.”

“You wore a top hat like Slash’s.” My lips tilted up as I remembered. “Where on earth did you find that ratty thing?”

“A dumpster behind the Tuxedo Warehouse.” He reached over and gently removed a strand of hair that the soft breeze had blown across my lips.

I pulled the edges of my worn pea coat together, pretending that my shiver was caused by the cold and not be the feel of his rough fingers against my mouth. “We had some good times.”

“Some, yeah.” The little girl zipped by again, giggling. His head turned to follow. “My mom asked about you last night. She wondered why you and War didn’t go out with all the rest of us.”

“Tell her I’m sorry.” I swallowed. I couldn’t tell him the truth, that what we’d been doing his mother wouldn’t approve of. That I wasn’t the good little girl his mom remembered. That I didn’t deserve to be around them. I gave him a near truth instead. “Tell her War and I had some stuff to do. Tell her I’ll try to drop by to visit the next time I’m in Seattle.”

I could feel his eyes back on me. Boring into my soul from behind those dark lenses. I kept my own straight ahead. I didn’t move. My throat was tight.

Don’t push me, I thought, please.

He didn’t. “Ok,” he said softly. “I’ll tell her.” He was quiet for a moment as if he’d heard my silent plea, and I concentrated on breathing, needing every bit of that moment to compose myself. “I remember you used to go from sweet one minute to all-out sass the next.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that.” His teasing tone lightened the mood considerably.

“I still do.” I managed to look at him and his lips curved up. “It’s a woman’s prerogative.”

“You’re unpredictable, Lace. That’s what makes you impossible to resist.” I could imagine the mischievous twinkle in his eyes behind those shades.

“Yeah, right.” I looked away. I couldn’t hold onto his gaze. My gravelly voiced response was a dead giveaway how desperately I wanted to believe he meant those words. But he didn’t. He was just being Bryan, flattering and flirty, the guy I’d known and crushed on most of my life.

I regretted making that suggestive quip earlier in the mezzanine. I couldn’t deal with this, the playful banter we’d used to do so well. The memories it brought back hurt too much. There was no room for flirting between us anymore.

“I’m hungry.” I slapped my hands against my thighs and jumped abruptly to my feet. “I need popcorn. I saw a vendor on the way in. It smelled delicious.”

“Still an addict, huh?” he asked falling into step beside me.

I winced at his choice of words and glanced at him but his easy expression gave no indication that he’d meant anything deeper.

I’m addicted to a lot of things that aren’t good for me.

After we each got a bag, we strolled toward Beacon Hill where there were supposed to be some unique shops and restaurants.

“Do you think there might be a vintage store around here?” I asked with enthusiasm I hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Bryan groaned. “Warning you now, I’m not up to one of your marathon shopping sprees.” He studied me for a moment. “Sixties fashion still your favorite?”

“Yeah. Anything from then. The short skirts, the platform shoes, the hair and makeup, the music.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

I nodded, swallowing another blissful mouthful of salty buttery goodness. “How about you? You still a big Moto fan?”

“I still ride whenever I get the chance.” He shrugged. “Not much time anymore though.”

“Yeah, I can imagine…” I stopped as we turned the corner. An enchanting narrow cobblestone street lined with Federal Style row houses with red brick facades, black shuttered windows, and wrought iron gates stretched out in front of us. “Nice.”

“One of the roadies is from around here.” Bryan threw his half eaten popcorn bag in the trash. “When he described the area, I thought it sounded like a cool place.”

“Definitely,” I agreed.

“You ever take any of those classes in fashion design?”

I shook my head, regret pulling my lips down into a frown.

“Why not?” he pressed while sliding out a crumpled cigarette pack from his jeans.

I watched him tap out a cigarette and light up before responding. “It was just a dream.” I sighed, one among many that were never going to come true. No address of my own. No credit record. I could go on and on. But why? Excuses wouldn’t change reality.

I crushed the empty popcorn bag, wiped my greasy hands on a napkin, and tossed everything into a trash can. The window display in the shop behind us had a mannequin wearing a fringed jacket and bell bottom jeans. “I’m going in here,” I informed him.

A bell rang as I entered the tiny shop jam packed with racks and racks of colorful vintage clothing, hats and accessories hanging from pegs on the wall. Heavy incense saturated the musty air. By the time Bryan wandered in minutes later, cigarette extinguished, cap off, and sunglasses up on his head, I already had several things laid over my arm.

“Is there someplace to sit?” he asked with an exaggerated sigh.

“Sure,” the shop girl with blue dyed hair answered. “Over there.” She pointed to a small velvet tufted chair against the back wall.

Bryan dropped down into the chair and scrubbed a quick hand through his already messy hair. The disarrayed look worked for him. I pulled a couple more dresses off the rack and when my eyes went back to him I saw that he was typing into his cell.

“Dressing room?” I asked the shop girl.

“Yeah.” She pointed to the velvet curtain behind Bryan’s chair.

“Thanks,” I murmured and swept past Bryan and into the small two by two foot space. While changing, I heard her complimenting Bryan on his ink. He must have taken off his hoodie. I bet that’s not all she’s admiring, I thought as I shimmied into a lemon colored dress. I frowned when I realized how loose my usual size had become.

“Hey, wait a minute,” the girl said to Bryan just as I stepped out. “Aren’t you the guitarist from Tempest?”

Bryan nodded.

“You’re playing at the Orpheum tonight.”

“Yeah.” He tossed a sheepish look my way.

“The show was sold out before I could get tickets. Could I get an autograph and picture with you?”

“Sure.” Bryan posed with her while I took their picture with the girl’s cell. “What’s your name?” he asked as he signed a blank piece of cash register receipt.

“Janie.”

“Here you go, Janie,” he handed it back to her when he’d finished. “Would you do me a favor?”

Janie nodded.

“Use my cell and take a picture of Lace and me.”

“Oh, no, Bry,” I protested. “I look terrible.” I covered the bruised side of my face with my hand.

“Bullshit. You’re gorgeous as usual.” Bryan pulled my hand away and tucked me in front of him, wrapping both his arms around me. His chest against my back, enveloped in his heat, a wave of memories washed over me. He still smelled the same. Cigarettes were a new addition, one I was sure his mom disapproved of, but underneath was the same familiar spicy undertones of the cologne he’d always worn. I laid my hands on his inked arms and melted into the embrace.

“You two make a beautiful couple,” Janie commented before she snapped the picture.

If only…

I stared at the picture when Janie handed the phone back to me. No way did I want Bryan to see it. The look of longing on my face was as obvious as it was pathetic. He didn’t want you Lace, not longer than one night anyway. Stop forgetting that.

Bryan leaned over my shoulder. “Hey give me my phone back,” he insisted. “I wanna see the picture.”

“Oops.” I slid my finger in a deliberate motion over the screen. “I accidently deleted it.”

“You’re such a liar, Lace Lowell.”

“Right back at ya… Bullet,” I returned airily before returning to the dressing room and snapping the curtain shut.

After the third outfit I modeled, I noticed Bryan getting fidgety. He’d lasted a lot longer than I would have thought. I heard him mutter under his breath, “War owes me big time for this.”

“Spending time today with me was all War’s idea, huh?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he replied hesitantly picking up on my vibe. “You know how he worries about you.”

Even though I suspected as much, I felt a hot stab of disappointment burn inside my chest. Stupid, Lace, as if Bullet Jackson would chose to spend the day with me if War hadn’t put him up to it. He probably had scores of groupies lined up waiting for him to get them off back at the venue. I shouldn’t have let down my guard with him today. It was too easy though. It always had been. My feelings were always too near the surface with him. That was part of the problem.

I punched my arms violently back inside the sleeves of my top and stabbed my legs into my jeans. When was I going to learn to stop reading more into Bryan’s attention than there was?

“You done in there?” His sudden question startled me.

“Give me just one more minute.” I leaned my forehead against the cold glass of the mirror and closed my eyes tightly willing my emotions back under wraps.

“Ok, but heads up. War just texted. I gave him the address earlier. He’s on his way over. Wants to grab something to eat with us before the show.”

“Great.” I didn’t bother holding in a curse.

“You’re not still pissed, are you?”

“I hate being pushed around,” I grumbled, throwing open the curtain, dresses rehung and laying across my arm. War could be really bullheaded and possessive. Grandiose one time heart-warming gestures notwithstanding, the day to day getting along, the necessity of breathing room and compromise seemed to escape him.

“He means well.” He stood and lazily stretched his arms over his head.

“Really?” I snapped, mad at War, mad at myself that just a tiny glimpse of Bryan’s abdomen made my pulse leap, just plain all around mad. “He meant well accepting the deal memo from RCA without talking to me first, a deal that didn’t include me?”

Bryan eyes widened, but he didn’t respond. I could feel his eyes on my back as I returned the clothes to Janie.

“You didn’t want any of them?” Janie asked me with a puzzled look.

I shook my head, even though it wasn’t true. I’d really liked the hot pink one with the geometric design, but I couldn’t afford it. I needed to be real careful with the money I had left. I probably shouldn’t have tortured myself by trying them on.

After thanking Janie, I exited the shop. I heard Bryan’s footsteps right behind me.

He immediately spun me around as soon as we were outside. “The way the whole thing went down with RCA was bullshit.”

“It’s ok.” Only it wasn’t, not even close. War had been my boyfriend, Dizzy and Tempest my family. I’d depended on them and they’d left me behind. “Dizzy’s explained about all the pressure you guys were under. About all the other offers you’d already turned down because no one wanted a woman in the group.”

“I told War not to accept that deal.” That part was news to me. His fingers tightened on my arms and his grey green eyes stared intently into mine. “But he was so sure that once we were signed he’d be able to convince RCA to give you one of your own.”

“I know that now. But what’s done is done.” I buttoned up my jacket with sharp precise movements. “Like a lot of other things. It wasn’t meant to be. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Yeah?” His gaze moved across my face as if he was working something out in his mind. “Well, I’m sure we all would’ve handled things differently in the past if we could.” His brow creased and his voice lowered to that intimate tone that never failed to make my insides quiver. “What happened to you, Lace? One minute you were with War and then Martin the next?”

I shrugged. “I did what I had to do.” How dare he stand there judging me? What other option had there been? Martin had been my only play. I felt a sudden rush of anger. “That’s what girls like me usually do, right, Bry?” The emphasis I put on the abbreviated version of his name, made his eyes narrow. That was what his family called him. What I used to call him until after that night.

“What the hell does that mean?” His eyes flared and he flicked the unlit cigarette he’d just pulled out to the ground before grabbing ahold of my shoulders. “You’re not a slut, Lace.” He looked perplexed as well as angry as he stared down at me.

“I know that’s what you think. Why keep up the pretense?” I shrugged out of his grasp, stifling the urge to yell or even worse to cry. “I heard what you said to Dizzy after the night we slept together.” The old wound ripped right open, but I didn’t want to keep it covered anymore. It was time we got it all out, all raw and gaping.

I heard the breath whoosh right out of him as if my words had knocked the air out of his lungs. So what if he was shocked that I’d finally brought it up after all this time. I turned away. It was good he knew I knew. This was what I wanted, wasn’t it? But suddenly I couldn’t bear to hear the lie in his voice or see the pity in his eyes as he made up excuses for what he’d said.

“Lace, listen.” He moved in front of me stopping my forward progress. I saw the regret on his face before a cold gust of wind whipped a strand of hair into my eyes. They watered instantly and I blinked, reaching up to pull it away, but he beat me to it. Under the spell of the tenderness I read in his gaze, I stood still as a statue while his fingertips skimmed my cheek and brushed it gently aside. “I didn’t...”

“Hey you guys, ready for dinner?”

War’s voice unraveled the spell. I turned to see a taxi had pulled up to the curb beside us. War was leaning out the window. I must have given him a blank stare.

“What’s going on?” Looking confused his gaze slid over to Bryan. “You didn’t what?”

7

After the concert at the Orpheum, we were required to attend the meet and greet with Brutal Strength at the Mantra restaurant next door. Candles flickered, crystal glasses clinked together, and soft music played in the background as the band members from both groups mingled with the few Bostonian’s fortunate enough to get VIP passes.

I’d been nursing a rum and Coke while trying to keep a low profile all evening. I definitely didn’t feel like talking to anyone, except for Lace. My stomach was a mess of acid churning holes after the bombshell she had detonated on me earlier. I yanked a fistful of hair through my fingers. All this time I thought it had been her that changed her mind. I never knew that she’d heard what I’d said. Words I didn’t fucking mean. This was so jacked. I needed to talk to her and explain, but I hadn’t been able to catch her alone.

“Hey, Bullet.” A young woman heavy on the make-up brushed her breasts against my arm. Her nipples were clearly visible through the tight white t-shirt she wore. Oh, hell. I took a step back when just days earlier I would have been full steam ahead. But right now I had absolutely no interest.

Confusion creasing her brow, the woman’s gaze zipped back across the crowded room. War tipped his shot glass in our direction. “War told me you’d take me to the bus,” she said her lips rounding into a pout.

“Not tonight, babe.” I wasn’t pleased that War had sent this girl over like an appetizer to sample while Lace was watching. I wrapped my fingers around her wrists and extracted her arms from my waist. “Why don’t you go try Dizzy? I’d bet he wouldn’t mind giving you a tour.”

“Fine,” she whispered.

As she walked away, my gaze returned across the room to Lace, perched in War’s lap. Her beautiful whisky eyes connected with mine briefly before flitting away. I sighed, my chest burning with regret. No wonder her attitude had changed so dramatically toward me. At least she’d worn the dress, the pink one from the vintage shop. My attempt at a peace offering. Janie had helped me arrange delivery to the hotel. It looked wonderful on her. The fabric clung to her figure like it’d been made for her just as it had when she’d tried it on in the shop.

Her wearing it tonight had to mean something. She could forgive me, couldn’t she?

The long sleeves flared at the elbows and sitting as she was now the bottom hem lay just this side of decency. Where War’s hand rested on the bared skin of her leg though way, way up on her thigh beneath the hem of her dress wasn’t decent. It was crass. It sent the wrong message about the kind of woman Lace was. I could tell by her downcast expression that it was only reinforcing this new low opinion she held of herself. I was sure now that I shouldered some of the blame for that, but dammit, War was treating her like one of the groupies.

He shifted in front of her blocking my view.

Access denied.

If I hadn’t panicked that night, if I hadn’t made that stupid comment to Dizzy, could it have been us together right now, her eyes shining up at me, her face tilted up to mine?

I should let it go, let her go, but that’s what I had done two years ago and I didn’t know if I had it in me to do again, even for War.

I swallowed and moved to stare out the windows, gaze unfocused, as my mind rewound to high school to that day when Lace first walked back into my life again, no longer a child but a beautiful woman, one that turned out to be far beyond my reach.

4 years ago

“Bryan Jackson!” Hearing my name, I slammed my locker closed and turned around. “Dizzy.” I grinned, dropped my back pack on the tile, and clapped my old friend on the back.

“Since when did you start going to Roosevelt High?” he asked.

“As of today. My mom just finished nursing school. She got a job at Seattle General. We moved into the Grammercy Apartments on Rosedale”

“Nice.”

“How’ve things been since you moved out? You still living with your uncle?”

“Yeah. It’s ok. I guess.” Dizzy fell into step beside me like we’d never been parted as we headed out of the building. “Sure as hell better than it was living with her.”

“How’s Lace?” I asked, pushing the bar to open the heavy outside door.

“I don’t know. She kinda goes her own way now, and I go mine. She’s gotten a huge attitude, though,” he muttered, zipping up his hoodie. “Her head’s so big it practically needs its own zip code.”

“I can see that happening. She sure used to have a thing for hogging center stage,” I quipped.

“You don’t know the half of it. You should come by. See for yourself,” Dizzy said with an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle. “I need to get to work, but why don’t you come by later, around nine? My uncle works the nightshift and a group of us usually hang out in the garage. I’ve got a used amp and a Fender I’d like to show you. It doesn’t sound too bad.”

“No shit. You any good?”

He shrugged. “I’m working on it.”

“I sure as hell would like to try out your Fender.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I have a beat up Epiphone I could bring over.”

“Sounds great. And if you need an amp, I could hook you up with one.”

“Cool.” I adjusted the strap on my back pack. “You mind if I bring a friend? He actually sings pretty good.”

“Sure, man. Whatever.” An Oldsmobile that was more bondo than metal pulled up alongside them. “That’s my ride.” Dizzy gave me a fist bump. “See ya then.”

Around nine fifteen, War and I sauntered up the short driveway to the detached garage, loud music and a pack of teens greeted our arrival. Dizzy handed us a couple of red solo cups filled with beer as soon as we entered. We sat down to get acquainted, but before long I noticed that War had lost focus on the conversation. His gaze was riveted on something over my shoulder.

“Dude.” War suddenly grabbed Dizzy’s arm and pointed. “Who’s that smoking babe?”

Dizzy turned around. “My sister,” he groaned and rolled his eyes.

Holy shit, I thought. Hair that used to lean more toward dark gold had lightened. It was long and straight now and the curled ends brushed across the top of a really nice looking pair of tits. She was practically falling out of the tight camisole and sweater set she wore. Her narrow hips and long slender legs were sexy as hell in a pair of tight jeans. No wonder War was distracted.

Lace Lowell was a total knockout.

The guy she was currently talking to touched her arm. A primal urge rose up inside of me. I wanted to push that guy the fuck away from her. Evidently feeling the weight of our stares, Lace pivoted in our direction. Those familiar whisky eyes met mine in a collision that left me reeling afterward. She blinked slowly before her lips curved up and she glided over, hips drawing my attention as they swayed.

Before I had a chance to make my move, War intercepted her. Grabbing her by the arms, he pulled her into him, even rocking his hips suggestively near hers. “Hey, beautiful,” he began, using the same line I’d heard him use a hundred times before. “Names Warren. Friends call me War. You can call me whatever the fuck you want.” He eased back, looked her over, and shook his head in disbelief. “Damn, you’re hot, baby.”

Her cheeks turned as pink as her sweater set.

War intertwined his fingers with hers and led her over. I felt my stomach take a crashing nose dive into the pavement. She wasn’t even likely to notice me with War around. Women took to War even more readily now than they had when we’d been in middle school. To my dismay, it appeared that Lace was no exception.

“We were just talking about our band. I’m the lead singer,” War told her.

Seriously? We didn’t have a band. We’d only just discussed the idea a couple of minutes ago. But that was just like War. He’d shoot off his mouth and throw out a grandiose idea even if most of the time nothing ever came of it.

“Lace,” I began, my tongue suddenly too thick for my mouth. “It’s good to see you.” I discovered she was even more gorgeous up close. The garage spotlights made her hair shine. Her amber eyes sparkled with laughter. Her smile was sexy as hell, and her lips practically begged to be kissed.

“Bry,” she returned, her voice low and flirty as she checked me out from my button down to my boots. “You grew up nice.”

“You, too, Lace.” I shoved my hands into the front pockets of my pants. Hoping she couldn’t tell that there was a lot more up at the moment than just my height. I’d never felt so tongue tied or so undone by a girl.

“A band, huh?” Her smile widened, and she shifted her body toward War. “You’ve certainly got the arrogance to be a lead singer.” She reached over and touched his face, tilting his chin one way and then the other as she studied him. “You’re definitely handsome enough to pull it off.” Her voice had lowered to a sexy purr that sizzled like an electrical current beneath my skin.

Then she turned to me. “So, if he’s the lead, you’d be…” She paused and I filled in.

“The guitarist.”

“Ah Slash, I should have guessed. Just like when we were kids.”

I nodded, my heart thundering inside my chest. I wanted her to touch me like she’d touched War. She trailed her eyes over me instead, a half lidded lingering appraisal.

“Yeah,” she said huskily. “You could totally rock the brooding guitarist role. I’d throw my panties at you.”

“Would you now?” I leaned in, playing the game, cocking a brow.

“Uh-huh” She leaned in too, her face tilted up. “If I was wearing any,” she whispered.

Holy hell! I reached for her arm, but War pulled me away from her.

“I need a beer,” War announced.

“What?” My mind was still turning over the panties thing.

“You thirsty, babe?” War asked Lace over my shoulder.

“I could use a beer, Mr. McMoves.”

“Alright.” War laughed. “We’ll be right back.”

Reluctantly, I followed War. While he filled a cup from the keg, my mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of Lace.

“Bryan.” War shook my arm.

“Huh?”

“I’ve gotta have her.”

“Lace?” I laughed. “You only just met her.”

“I’m fucking serious, man.” War ran a hand over his face while holding the beer steady in the other. “I mean it. I’ve never felt this way around a chick.”

My eyes narrowed. War was never serious about any woman. “Come on, War. She’s just a freshman. You’ll be bored with her in no time.” I cast a quick glance around. “Let me ask Dizzy if he knows anyone.” I lowered my voice. “Someone older, more interesting and experienced, you know, like you usually go for.”

War frowned, his head cocked to the side. “What’s your problem, Bryan?” Tension seemed to crackle in the air between us. He straightened. “You think Lace’s too good for me?”

“No, War. Of course not. I’m not saying anything. I just don’t think she’s your type.”

“You gotta be kidding. She sure the fuck is. Bold, sassy, sexy as hell.” He raised his brows, giving me a look like I’d lost my mind. “How’s that not my type?”

“Ok.” I shrugged, trying to be casual about it. Maybe he’d let it go. I prayed he would.

“Bryan.” He put his hand on my arm. “We’ve been through a lot of shit together, haven’t we?”

I nodded.

“And I’ve always had your back, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, but I really don’t see what this has to do with…”

“Took that stint in juvie when you wrecked my old man’s car,” he cut in. “Did all that AA counseling bullshit. Still doing the community service hours.” A shadow fell across War’s face giving it a sinister glow.

Grimly, I nodded. He’d done all that for me and more. I owed him.

“I saw how you looked at her, man. But I don’t want you coming between me and this chick, understand? This one’s mine.”

I made a promise based on our friendship that night. I figured he would get tired of her in a week or so, like he always had with all the other girls before. Then I’d be free to make my move. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out that way. And that promise ended up costing me more over the years than I ever could have imagined.

8

I exhaled the breath I’d been holding, my eyes following the attractive brunette Bryan had just dismissed. As she pulled herself unsteadily up on a bar stool, her shoulders sagged. The weight of Bryan’s rejection obviously hit her hard.

I could relate.

I’d thought that I had managed to put my life back together pretty well after my mother left it in a pile of rubble. Unfortunately, the foundation had been faulty. Like a stack of Jenga blocks, Bryan’s love and approval had been the critical bottom layer. When he had yanked that away, the tower had begun to wobble. Then War and the group had shut me out, bringing it completely down. Martin was there waiting to set fire to what was left. I was worse off than before. Instead of rubble my life was scattered ashes.

The brunette drew my attention again as she knocked back another shot, swiveled around on her chair, and scanned the room. Bryan hadn’t been the first one she had approached. She had made overtures to all the guys, except for my brother. She stood, swayed a bit, and crossed the room toward him. Dizzy already had two girls with him, one on his lap, another one beside him. She stood in front of him at least five minutes before he finally acknowledged her.

“Whatcha staring at, babe?” War asked me.

“Nothing,” I muttered distractedly. I wasn’t about to share. I didn’t know why I found myself so interested in the brunette, or why the way the guys were treating her disturbed me so much. Or maybe I just didn’t want to examine my reasons too closely.

Dizzy waved her off too.

I stiffened when she rushed past me with tears in her eyes.

Shit.

“I’ll be right back.” I slid War’s hand off my thigh and immediately went to look for her. I found her in the restroom, her hands braced on the edges of the porcelain sink. Telltale trails of black mascara ran down her cheeks. In the mirror, eyes flooded with pain met mine before darting away. I obviously wasn’t the one she was hoping to see.

I moved beside her. “Listen,” I said softly. “They’re not all that.”

“Who?” she asked, though I think we both knew who I was talking about.

“Tempest.” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder. “Those jerks who just blew you off.”

“Listen, I grew up with those guys. They’re no better than you are. They put their pants on one leg at time.” Watching the desperate way she had thrown herself at the guys made me sad for her. Third night on the tour and already I was sick of this groupie bullshit. It turned my stomach. I touched her arm. “I don’t know when they started being such asses, but I wanted to apologize, for my brother Dizzy in particular.”

Her eyes widened in acknowledgement.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Lilly.”

“Lilly, let me tell you a few eye opening things about Dizzy.” I pulled a towel out of the dispenser, wetted it, and then started to wipe the mascara from her cheeks. Without the makeup, I realized she was much younger than I’d assumed, probably not more than seventeen. A hard age, a vulnerable age, the age for me when I’d lost everything. “The guy’s personal hygiene sucks. He literally stinks. I’m sure you noticed. He’s been re-wearing the same clothes for the past two days. Then there’s his eating habits. He thinks just because milk duds have the word milk in them that they’re nutritious and therefore make an acceptable breakfast.”

Her lip twitched.

“Oh, yeah.” I nodded. “He’s a junk food junkie. Eats Cheese Whiz straight from the jar. And even though he’s twenty-one, he still acts like he’s twelve. He watches SpongeBob. All. The. Time. He’s got every single episode memorized. This from a guy who half the time can’t be bothered to remember the words to the songs from his own band.”

Lilly smiled. “Why are you telling me all this,” she asked softly.

“Because I want you to get that he and the rest of the Tempest guys are just like the guys you probably go to school with. I saw the way they treated you out there and I didn’t like it. So they’re in a band and they look really sexy when they’re up on stage under the lights.” Her face was clean now, so I threw away the towel. “Don’t idolize them. Don’t let them get to you.” I took her hand and led her out of the restroom. “You deserve better than the disrespect that’s being dished out there.”

Back in the main party room, I stopped to study her again. Her eyes glittered way too brightly to have just been the result of my pep talk. I wondered what she was doing besides those shots. I scrambled for something to say that might help keep her from making all the same mistakes I had.

Just as I was getting ready to speak, another girl walked up and joined us. She was blonde and her four inch heels made her taller than me. She gave me a hard look before turning to Lilly. “This chick bothering you?” They were obviously good friends, the blonde’s expression sympathetic as she glanced at Lilly and squeezed her shoulder.

“No.” Lilly shook her head. “She’s cool. She’s Dizzy’s sister.”

“You’re really lucky to have someone looking out for you,” I told Lilly while my eyes searched for the one who I used to rely on in that way. Bryan had been hard to miss in a dark charcoal button down that did amazing things for his eyes, but I couldn’t find him now. He had been standing over by the window before I’d followed Lilly into the bathroom. I wondered where he had gone.

Eyes back on the pair of girls, I finished my thought. “Hold on tight to that. Having just one person who believes in you can make all the difference in the world.” I pulled in a deep breath through my nose. I suddenly felt really fucking old and worn out. “You two should get out of here. I love these guys, but you know as well as I do, they’re not looking for a relationship. They’re just looking to get laid.”

“She’s right.” Lilly’s friend tugged on her hand and pulled her toward the door. “See that’s what I told you.”

“What about you?” Lilly looked concerned as she turned back toward me.

“I’m good,” I lied. But I wasn’t. I realized that I wasn’t really much more than a groupie myself. I was a lost cause. No further down to go. I’d blown my chance for better.

After they left, I went back to War. He talked me into doing another line in the coat closet. He got really amorous after that, his tongue trailing up my neck and his lips stopping below my ear. “Lacey,” he groaned, his hands framing my face. “Let’s go back to the bus. I want you now.”

“Alright.” He took my hand and guided me through the crowded room. I put on a pair of sunglasses as we entered the lobby, the lights too bright for my dilated eyes. The bus was deserted when we boarded. War’s mouth immediately descended, his tongue delving deep into mine while his hands groped my ass in a way that was just short of being painful. War was an aggressive lover, a trait I knew from experience was magnified whenever he was high.

He tossed his sunglasses aside, and walked me backward without breaking the kiss. My own shades slid through my fingers as he pushed the button to open the door to the sleeping section.

He hefted me up. “Wrap those beautiful legs around me, babe.”

I did as he asked, folding my legs around him as he stalked us to the back bedroom. He set me down on the window ledge and leaned back to look at me. My pink dress was hiked up around my hips, giving him an eyeful.

“Damn,” he whispered voice thick, eyes dark. “I need more of that mouth of yours.” He plunged his hands into my hair. My head banged against the cold glass as his warm lips covered my own.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I took in short shallow breaths through my nose as his tongue speared repeatedly, possessively into my mouth. Threading my fingers into his silky caramel locks, I scraped my nails against his scalp the way I remembered he’d always liked.

He groaned into my mouth breaking the embrace just long enough to reach back between his shoulder blades to tug off his shirt.

My eyes trailed over his lean smooth torso. He was just as sexy as he’d ever been, the irreverent black heart inked over the spot where his real heart lay. But my mind conjured up a vision of another.

“Gotta see you,” War growled as he pulled my head forward yanking down the zipper of the dress and unclasping my bra. Cold air hit my skin as both parted open. War peeled the dress down my shoulders and off my arms. As he stared at my bared breasts, my nipples tightened. “Feed me, baby.” His voice was low and demanding.

I cupped my breasts in my hands while he spread my legs wide enough to step between them. His fingers dug deep into my upper thighs. He rocked his arousal against me before lowering his head to trace my breasts with his tongue, in and around my splayed fingers.

I moaned and my head started to loll back when I heard a sound. I turned. Bryan was standing beside his bunk, his eyes dark and hooded as he returned my gaze. At first, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. But then my eyes narrowed at him in defiance.

Go ahead and look. You might not have wanted me but War sure as hell does.

Bryan’s gaze slid to the side. “Shut the door next time, asshole,” he growled before leaning forward to slap his hand against the door switch.

“Sorry babe,” War’s lust glazed eyes went from the closed door and then back to me.

I dipped my head in acknowledgement but wasn’t interested at all after that. War didn’t seem to notice. When he was finished, he moved away and I was left feeling used and shaky inside. I climbed down from the window ledge and readjusted my dress.

They’re just looking to get laid.

“I’m going to get cleaned up,” I said softly, tiny tremors shaking my hands as I grabbed my toiletry bag from the tiny closet.

Oblivious to my distress, War grunted a response and flopped back on the bed with a magazine.

I padded out the door on tiptoes. King and Sager were laughing at something in the front lounge. I saw their faces glowing from the reflection of the television. Hopefully Bryan had already closed his curtain and gone to bed. I risked a peek at his bunk.

He was awake. His hands were clasped behind his head, his earbuds were in, and his piercing grey green eyes captured me in their glittering gaze.

I’d only thought he looked dangerous up on stage the other night. That was just an act. This was real. I could feel the dark energy radiating off him in waves. Anger, disappointment, and something else I couldn’t pinpoint flickered across his face, before his lids lowered and he shut me out.

Released, I shuffled into the tiny bathroom and locked myself inside. Free from his unsettling perusal, I leaned back against the door, and the breath that I’d been holding came out in a rush. I slid to the floor and put my hand over my mouth, trying not to be sick.

What was his problem? What right did he have to look at me like that? I shouldn’t let him get to me, but he did. It seemed I was always a hot tangled mess of emotions wherever he was concerned.

Damn him, I thought, turning on the shower. I should never have slept with him. I gambled and lost everything that night, including my closest friend. And having sex tonight with War while Bryan watched just brought the all too stark contrasts between the two men into sharp focus. The deep emotional connection, the heart melting tenderness, the intense pleasure I’d experienced in just the one night of lovemaking with Bryan was something I’d never come close to duplicating with War. And no matter how many times I reminded myself how badly hurt I’d been afterward or tried to convince myself that the passage of time had exaggerated the experience, it didn’t stop me from wanting to be with him again.

After a brief shower, I wrapped my kimono around myself and exited, relieved to see the curtain to Bryan’s bunk was closed. I reentered the bedroom and found War beside the nightstand, his belt to use as a tourniquet, a spoon, some cotton, a glass of water, and a couple of syringes lying on top of it like an illicit banquet.

My gaze met his.

“I know you said you were trying to cut back, babe. But it’s been a couple of days and I figured you might need a little something. It’s just a small dose. I know my heart’s still racing from the lines we did earlier.”

He was right. I’d never sleep tonight without it. This was who I was now. This was what I needed. Sinking down on the edge of the mattress, I nodded, held out my arm, and let him do me up.

9

The bus was parked when I finally rejoined the land of the living. War snored softly sprawled out on his stomach in the bed beside me. Sunlight seeped in through the heavily tinted windows. I sat up slowly, groggy and more than a little nauseated. I put my head in my hands, tears I swore never to shed burning behind my eyelids.

I was such a failure.

I couldn’t make it more than a few days without needing another hit.

Sighing heavily, I picked up War’s cell from the nightstand. Eleven already. I’d been out for ten hours. Looking outside, I saw roadies moving in and around the tour bus parked beside us. Quietly, I pulled on a distressed pair of jeans and drew a purple long sleeve Henley with lace sleeves over my head. As soon as I opened the door, the smell of coffee and doughnuts hit me and my stomach lurched.

“Morning,” my brother mumbled, wearing yesterday’s clothes of course, his gaze washing over me. “You look like shit.”

“So do you.” I gave him the finger. “Who’s in the bathroom?” I asked.

“King.”

My chin dropped. I’d been on the bus enough days to know what that meant.

“Yeah, it’ll be a while.” Dizzy banged on the door. “King, how many times I gotta tell you, brother. Shit, shower and shave. It shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes. Get your sorry ass out already!”

Even through my nausea, I had to smile at my brother. “The three s’s, huh?”

Dizzy chuckled. “King’s a total diva with his morning routine. He even has moisturizer.”

“I hear you, pendejo,” King’s muffled voice drifted out.

I shook my head and shuffled down the aisle to the front of the bus, swiping my sunglasses off the counter as Dizzy shut the door to the fridge. He handed me a bottled water. “You should try to stay hydrated.”

“Sure,” I mumbled, taking a seat at the banquette.

Dizzy took a seat on the bench opposite me. “Lace,” he started, rubbing his hands on his jeans. “You sure you’re doing the right thing getting back with War so soon after Martin?”

“Are you seriously giving me grief about my love life?” I arched a brow in disbelief. “That’s just wrong on so many levels.”

He had the decency to look ashamed, but his gaze remained steady. “I should’ve been more outspoken how I felt about Martin. I hate what he did to you, Lace. All those times I called you never let on how things were, and now the shit you’re doing with War. I…”

“Don’t,” I cut him off. “No lecturing, alright. You’ve got no right. It’s not like you’re a Boy Scout.”

“That’s different. You’re my sister.” He sighed, his eyes searching mine. “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be.” I shrugged. “I’m alright, Diz. I’m all grown up now. You’re not responsible for me anymore.” I covered his hand. “I just need to level off some. Then I’ll be fine.”

I didn’t get the sense that he was buying any of it.

“What’s the deal for today?” I tried to inject some enthusiasm into my voice before I took a small sip of water.

“Same as Boston. Room keys are at the front desk if you wanna unwind inside the hotel. The whole tenth floor’s exclusive for the tour. Catered breakfast and lunch. Sound check at noon. Band has to be at Wells Fargo Center by seven.”

Ok.” I nodded. “I’m going to go get one of those keys now since King’s commandeered the commode.” I patted him on the back as I made my way past.

After a wonderfully long hot shower in a decent sized bathroom, I felt a lot better. I wasn’t really hungry but I knew I should probably try to eat something. Following my nose, I wandered down the hall to an open area where an elaborate breakfast buffet was laid out. It was so late. I really expected to dine alone.

Wrong.

My stomach flipped. Avery Jones was even more beautiful in person, red hair, green eyes and her leather vest and merino wool cowl sweater were obviously some rad designer. I felt shabby and self-conscious by comparison in my no name faded shirt and worn jeans.

“Morning.” Well, Miss Perfect actually graced me with a greeting. What was the protocol? Should I bow?

I decided to ignore her. I selected a banana, a yogurt, and a muffin, and poured myself a cup of coffee. Balancing my bounty, I turned.

Brutal Strength’s celebrity guitarist was appraising me with a speculative expression.

My spine straightened. Bring it. She was just a person same as me. “This seat taken?” I asked haughtily, indicating the chair across from her.

“No. Have a seat.” Her full lips lifted into a soft smile. “I’m Avery.”

“Lace Lowell.” I wasn’t buying the nice act. I made up my mind right then that I wasn’t going to like her. For one thing, she had probably slept with Bryan. Just the thought of his hands or lips on her was reason enough by itself. I worried that all she would have to do to get him running back to her was to crook her little manicured finger.

Besides, she was a successful musician, engaged to the man she wanted and who wanted her, and it seemed like she had her shit together while my life was a complete and utter mess. I didn’t want to look any deeper than that. I didn’t want to admit, even to myself, that Avery represented everything that I wished I had and wanted to be.

“I saw you the other night at the meet and greet in Boston,” Avery began as I peered at her over the steam from my coffee. “You come down to Philly on the Tempest bus?”

I nodded noncommittally.

“Lowell.” Avery’s brow creased slightly. “You related to Dizzy?”

“Yeah. He’s my brother.”

“So you’re War’s…girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” I hissed, spine snapping straight. “Who’d you think I was? Some random groupie?”

“No.” Avery’s auburn brows lifted in response to my venomous tone. “Only I’ve never seen Tempest bring a woman from one stop to the next. So I just didn’t know…”

“I’m no whore if that’s what you’re trying to imply,” I interrupted.

“I didn’t mean any offense.” Avery’s lips pressed into a frown. “I’m sorry. We seem to have started off on the wrong foot somehow.”

Damn straight. I’d like to stomp on those Vince Camuto suede wedges of yours.

“What’s going on, Ace?” a deep voice rumbled behind us.

I turned to see who that gorgeous voice belonged to.

Holy fucking shit.

The lead singer of Brutal Strength. Marcus Anthony. The guy was definitely nice to look at. Dark, wet hair dripping into the collar of his t-shirt, ripped bod, killer blue eyes, but at the moment he looked kinda pissed.

“Nothing.” Avery’s gaze flicked to me. “Just a little misunderstanding with Dizzy’s sister.”

“I gotta go.” My chair clattered with the force I used pushing it back. “Later,” I mumbled hurrying out into the hall, running right into Bryan. He must’ve just gotten out of the shower also. His hair was wet and spiky and he smelled really, really good. My heart pounded hard. The black Tempest t-shirt he wore fit him nicely and made his eyes appear more grey than green in the low lighting of the corridor. He hadn’t toweled off well, a fine sheen of moisture glistened across the dark ink slashes on his corded arms. I glanced away; my cheeks heating as I suddenly recalled the way I’d looked when he’d seen me last night.

“Where’s War?” he asked without any hint of embarrassment in his tone. I guess he’d already moved on from what had happened.

“Back on the bus would be my guess. He was still sleeping when I left.”

“It’s eleven fucking thirty,” Bryan grumbled, drawing out his phone, long masculine fingers moved quickly and efficiently across the screen. “War. Asshole. Do you know what time it is? Get the fuck ready…Yeah, yeah…She’s with me.” A sigh. “Ok. We’ll see you there.” Bryan slipped the phone back in his pocket. “Come on, Cinderella,” he said, guiding me toward the elevator. “Prince Charming wants me to escort you to the ball.”

10

As soon as the elevator door closed, I turned and put my hands on her delicate shoulders. I could feel the warmth of her skin through the gossamer fabric. “Lace,” I began lowering my voice even though we were alone. “I’ve been trying to tell you since yesterday. What you overheard me say to Dizzy that morning, you’ve got it all wrong.”

She shook her head. The silky ends of her hair brushed across the tops of my hands. Like it happened just yesterday, I remembered how soft it had felt against my bare chest. All the blood in my body rushed south in response to the memory. I took in a lungful of air, trying to get myself under control. Last night had been a test of willpower too, a tossup between wanting to kill my best friend for having his hands on her and wanting to be in his place.

I’d bought her that pink dress that had been bunched up around her waist. I’d wanted to be the one between her open legs. I’d wanted her head thrown back in pleasure like that because my mouth, not War’s, was on her breasts. My heart rate flipped into overdrive. I lost the battle of mind over body, and my hold on her turned into a caress.

“What was it I got wrong?” Her shoulders tensed and her angry tone penetrated my sex hazed brain. “Was it our whole relationship or was it just one of the two times you fucked me that night. Maybe it was my inexperience.” Her expression was as harsh as her voice. “Though the way I hear it, most guys get off knowing they’re the first.”

“Stop it, Lace.” My fingers dug into her arms. “Don’t make it into something ugly.”

“I don’t need to do that. You did that all on your own with what you said.” Her eyes narrowed, the pain I saw in them leaving me feeling cut up inside. I had to fix this.

“Listen, Lace Lowell, and listen good.” I moved my hands up to gently frame her face. “What I said to your brother was the only part about that night that wasn’t real. Stop twisting my words. That night with you was beyond incredible. What you gave me was the most beautiful gift I’ve ever been given.”

“Bryan,” she breathed out softly looking unsure and shaken.

I put a finger over her smooth satiny lips. What I intended as a silencing gesture became something else entirely as soon as her lips parted and I felt her warm breath against my skin. I stared into her mesmerizing eyes. “When Dizzy showed up, I’ll admit I panicked. I didn’t know what to do about War. I was just trying to buy time so we could sort it all out. But I never meant to hurt you. I…”

The elevator dinged and the door slid open. Dizzy, Sager, and King stared at us with unhinged jaws.

I dropped my hands. Lace took a step back.

Dizzy frowned.

I noticed Lace wobbled a bit as she stepped out and moved past her brother.

“War’s up,” Dizzy told me with a meaningful glance. “He’s meeting us at the center.”

Silent as a funeral procession, we all piled into the chauffeured Suburban. Conversation was subdued. Sager slurped on a coffee in the back row. In the passenger seat, King drummed on the dash, earning a couple of warning glares from the driver. Dizzy stared out the window, and I watched Lace out of the corner of my eye. Looking pensive, she was perched on the edge of the middle bench seat between Dizzy and me. She kept her head down, picking at the threads on her jeans the entire fifteen minute drive. I desperately wanted to know what she was thinking.

As it always was with her, I was hyper aware of her presence. My nerve endings sparked with heat each time we turned a corner and my leg brushed against hers.

Once we reached the Wells Fargo Center, we all climbed out, passed through security, and then were escorted to the stage.

“Wow!” Lace exclaimed, turning around in a wide circle. “This place is huge.”

“Yeah, it’s a lot bigger than the Orpheum.” Dizzy dropped his leather jacket on the floor and lifted his guitar from its stand. “That was more of a historic, vanity stop. This is the real deal, a proper rock venue.”

Sager whooped, his yell echoing in the empty, cavernous arena.

I continued to watch Lace. She still seemed unsettled from earlier. I certainly was. She tugged on the frayed cuffs of her purple Henley looking uncomfortable and out of place as we got ready to play. It wasn’t so long ago that she would’ve been getting ready right alongside us. As I plugged in my Les Paul, she drifted off to the edge of the stage and my mind drifted back in time.

2 years ago

“Where is he, Bry?” Lace asked again for the third time.

“I don’t know.” Truth was I did know. War was at the courthouse for the final hearing for the sentence he’d served that should’ve been mine. But I wasn’t at liberty to tell her that. I’d made a promise. And God knows I kept those, especially for him. I blew on my frozen fingers. The temperature in her uncle’s garage wasn’t much warmer than it was outside and the damp night air seemed to seep under my skin.

“I’ve got to go to work soon,” Sager complained. “Can’t we just go ahead and rehearse, crank out a few songs without him?”

“Yeah. This is bullshit.” King accented his statement with a drum roll on his snare.

“Lace, why don’t you teach us that ballad you showed me the other day?” Dizzy suggested.

She shook her head, her ponytail swishing between her shoulder blades.

“C’mon. I told you it’s really good,” Dizzy cajoled.

“We could use a ballad.” I threw in my support as promised.

Her gaze flicked to me. She was trying to communicate something, but I didn’t know what.

“I agree.” Sager said. “We really need something they can slow dance to in the clubs.”

All eyes turned to Lace.

“Alright.” She sighed and moved to the keyboard. “I’ll play it through one time, but I’m stopping if anyone laughs.”

Her jeans tugged tight across her ass as she took a seat. I swallowed and looked away, my eyes colliding with Dizzy’s narrowed, knowing gaze. I ran a hand through my hair, remembering his sobering warning to me: Unless you plan to tell War, you need to put a lid on those feelings, bro. If I’ve noticed how things are between you two, it won’t be long before War figures it out too.

I couldn’t bottle them up. My feelings had gotten way too strong to deny. If only War wasn’t always sending me in his place to smooth things over with her whenever they fought, which was all of the time and if only I hadn’t crossed the line with her on the beach the other day.

The first few notes of a somber cascade of sound reached my ears, demanding my attention. I turned to look at her. Lace’s eyes were closed. Her soprano voice was hesitant, but soft and get under your skin and give you goosebumps beautiful. Vaguely I noted that everyone else was still as statues and staring at her, too.

As soon as she started the lyrics, I knew immediately why she’d given me that look earlier. This song was about us. About hidden passion and a stolen kiss on the beach that had ended way too soon.

Too soon for both of us.

“Lace, do ‘Forbidden’, please.” Sager’s annoying whine brought my mind back to the present. His bass was thrown over his back, his elbows resting on the piano where Lace had taken a seat. “Please,” he said again, putting his hand over his heart and acting like a complete dork. “I love that song. It always gets to me.”

Lace shook her head, eyes sliding to me.

“Please Lace,” King begged, copying Sager as he moved over next to him.

“Oh, alright, just for you two.” Lace ran her fingers over the keys and tapped on the mic. “Test. Test.”

Then she sat back, poised her fingers over the keys, and began to play. Her voice sounded especially amazing over the arena’s sound system as her surprised expression registered. There’s a world of difference between singing in a garage and hearing your voice pumped out through one of these babies.

Straightening her shoulders, she continued. Her amber eyes took on a faraway look, and her voice, well… Holy fucking shit. It was strong, confident, and seductive as hell. The emotion she injected into the song sent a chill up my spine as I listened.

When she finished, I knew just like all the roadies and event staff that had gathered around to watch.

A talent like Lace Lowell’s was meant for center stage.

11

“Brilliant, Lace.”

I smiled absently acknowledging Dizzy’s praise. As the last note on the piano faded out, my mind was already fading too, back to that day on the beach with Bryan, and the kiss that inspired the song.

2 years ago

I peeked over at him as he walked beside me. His black hoodie was pulled back from his head, allowing the breeze to ruffle his long hair, sorting through the light brown strands like I wished I could do. He was staring out at the ocean. It sparkled like his eyes did, reflecting the last rays of the sunset. The waves spilled rhythmically onto the shore like gentle breaths.

I tried to focus on the soothing sound as I continued to watch him. What would he say when I told him? I wasn’t sure. That’s why I’d kept silent for so long. I decided to ease into it. “Have you given any more thought to my idea about a ballad?”

“Yeah, sure.” Bryan turned, his eyes resting on mine. “But I don’t know how the other guys are gonna respond. Have you and War talked about it?”

“He was less than enthusiastic.” I puffed out my chest and lowered my voice. “If you want more time at the center mic, Lace, you should just say so.” I completed my impersonation with one hand on my hip and a finger wag near Bryan’s face.

“Yeah. That sounds about right.” Bryan slanted a brow. “I have to say I don’t think it fits our image.”

“I disagree, Bry. Ballads are some of the biggest hits for your favorite bands. ‘Sweet Child of Mine’ is GNR’s only number one hit in fact. And what about ‘Nothing Else Matters’ for Metallica or ‘Home Sweet Home’ for Motley Crue or…”

“Ok, ok, Lace,” he said cutting me off.

“It’s what sells Bryan.” I pressed. “More women buy music than men.”

“Ok you write one then, and I promise I’ll back you up about it with the band and with War. Maybe together we can win them over.”

Together. Oh, yeah. I liked that idea. A lot.

My heart started pounding hard, and my palms got sweaty. No more stalling. Time to tell him how I felt. That I was in love with him…

Hopelessly.

Helplessly.

Heedlessly.

But I was terrified to say the words out loud.

Because although sometimes I thought he might feel the same when he looked at me with warmth in his eyes or when his touch lingered, there were plenty of other times, like right now when I just couldn’t read him.

And then there was War.

He and Bryan were so close. The bond they’d forged during their years together in middle school was real and strong and obvious to everyone.

And I loved War too. But it was so different with him. He didn’t make my heart pound out of my chest like Bryan did. Sure War listened to me, but Bryan seemed to really hear me and made me feel like my opinions were valuable. With War, and the other guys I’d dated before him, I always held a part of myself back. War never pushed to get past that barrier. More often he just ran over me. Deep down that made me wonder how much he really cared.

The longer I was with War, the more I found myself opening up to Bryan instead. Recognizing this, I’d pulled back from going all the way with War.

I wanted Bryan to be the one.

“Bryan,” I started, putting my hand on his arm.

“Lace,” he said at the same time.

“You first,” I said with a teasing ghost of a smile. Still afraid. Still unsure.

“Alright.” He sighed and stared back at the ocean. “I’ve got feelings for you.”

I froze and held my breath.

“Feelings I’ve got no right to have.” He shoved his hands deep into the front pockets of his jeans and finally looked at me. “War’s my best friend. We’ve gotta stop hanging out together. It’s wrong. I shouldn’t have let it go this far. We can’t do this anymore.”

I shook my head, blinking back the tears that burned my eyes.

No.

I turned and ran back the way we had come, too proud to cry in front of him. I heard his footsteps behind me. I sped up, glad to be wearing lace-ups instead of slip-ons. I couldn’t let him see me like this so I ran faster. I thought I was going to be able to get away when I made it to the stairs. I had my hand on the railing when he caught me.

“Lace.” Breathing hard, he grabbed my arm and spun me around.

My long hair slapped against my face stinging like a whip. “Let me go, Bry.” Stupid, stupid sand had slowed me down. “I heard you. Message received, loud and clear. I get it.” My voice sounded as raw and exposed as his words had made me feel.

“No you don’t, Lace. You didn’t give me a chance to finish.” He scrapped a hand through his windblown hair.

“So finish,” I countered harshly.

“You’re only sixteen…”

“Oh, and you’re such a man of the world because you just turned nineteen,” I interrupted sticking my chin out. “I love you. I’m old enough to know that much. And I’ll be seventeen next month, Bryan. I’m graduating early, same time as you. I’m not a child.”

“I know that, Lace. Believe me I’m very aware of that fact.” He tenderly framed my face with his hands. I melted when he brushed his thumbs softly across my cheeks. The roar of the ocean and the cry of the seagulls receded, giving way to the thundering sound of my pulse in my ears. We both stared at each other. I could see myself reflected in his gorgeous eyes.

Bryan swallowed, breathed my name in a whisper, and then his lips touched mine. My body erupted with sensation: warmth at the point of contact, tingling across the surface of my skin, and molten heat inside that all but consumed me.

It was just as I’d always dreamed it would be with him, only better.

My fingers fisted in his shirt. I suddenly needed something to hold onto to keep my balance in a world that felt like it was shifting beneath my feet. In a world that had suddenly been reduced to just the two of us.

His lips moved, a gentle persuasion, coaxing mine to open. The shaking escalated into a seismic explosion the instant his tongue rubbed softly against my own.

I tasted him.

He moaned.

I whimpered for more.

But then suddenly, he pulled away, creating a separation I knew neither of us really wanted.

And if I’d known at the time just how wide that gulf would become, I never would have let go of him.

12

I watched as the last of Lace’s admirers congratulated her on her performance. I was just about to go over and do the same when War showed up, the tail end of a black scarf trailing behind him as he approached her at a swift clip.

I stopped. Tension held me fisted in its grip. The realization hitting me hard that wish all I wanted, War would always be a wedge between us.

“What the fuck, Lace?” War’s expression was livid. “Why the hell didn’t you do that yesterday when I asked you to?”

She didn’t answer but her chin rose.

“You’re doing it just like that tomorrow night in Atlanta.”

“No, War. I’m not.” Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. “I was just messing around for King and Sager.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer, Lace,” War bellowed as they faced off like two opponents in a ring.

“I’m my own person, Warren Jinkins!” she yelled, leaning in toward him, her hands moving to her hips. “Stop riding me about this. I’ll decide what I will and won’t do.”

“War,” I walked over to him with my hands out. “Maybe you should…”

“Stay the fuck out of it, Bryan,” he shouted, his anger veering toward me.

Lace took advantage of the distraction I’d provided and spun around, her footsteps echoing as she stomped off the stage.

War’s eyes cut back to me. “Bullet.”

“Not this time, man. I’m through with being the peacemaker. You want her, you go after her. Only let me suggest you let her cool down first if you want to get anywhere.”

“Hey, guys.”

We both turned as Marcus Anthony strutted up to us like he owned the place. “BS is up.”

Was this asshole totally oblivious? His timing certainly sucked.

“Back the fuck off, chief.” War pointed to his watch. “Tempest’s still got five more minutes.”

Marcus frowned.

I grinned. Shit like this reminded me why War and I were so tight. I was tempted to give him a congratulatory fist bump right there in front of Marcus’ arrogant face. I mean just because BS was headlining, and Marcus got to fly around in a big jet while we rode on tour buses with the roadies didn’t mean his shit didn’t stink. It hadn’t been that long ago that Brutal Strength had been an opening band just like us. And it hadn’t been that long ago that Marcus’ fist had made a little contact with my face. Granted I punched him first. But still.

In a blatantly dismissive move, War turned his back on Marcus and stepped up to the center mic. He tapped it once, and looked over his shoulder at King. “’My Way or the Highway.’ Count it out.”

When we got back to the hotel, War jogged up beside me. “Got a minute?’

“Sure.” I stopped. “What’s up?”

He threw an arm over my shoulder and steered me to the right. “Come get a drink with me in the bar.”

As soon as we entered the low lit lounge that was heavy, and I mean heavy as in every available surface covered in Philadelphia Eagles motif, War excused himself. “Order me a beer. I’ll be right back.”

I grabbed a seat and was already nursing a Kinsinger, munching on some peanuts, and watching the game on the wall mounted television when War returned from the restroom. He sniffed a couple of times. I frowned, not fooled for a minute.

“You told me you’d stopped doing that shit,” I said glaring at him, my voice just loud enough to be heard over the television.

War cast a nervous glance around the half empty room.

A sudden prickle of unease tingled its way along my scalp. A disturbing thought occurred to me. What if Lace was doing drugs with him? No way. She wouldn’t. She’d just been drunk the other night. That was all. After the crap we’d seen with her mother, I’d totally ruled it out, and Lace hadn’t just seen it, she’d lived it. Pushing that concern back down, I leaned in closer. “Seriously War I don’t want a repeat of the RCA tour. It took me six months to pay off my part of the advance. I’ve almost rebuilt enough savings to get my mom into a house. Don’t fuck this up for us, man.”

“I’m not, Mama Jackson. I just needed a little help to be on for tonight’s show. Don’t go all narc on me just because you don’t do ‘em. I’ve got it under control.”

“Really? You almost slept past sound check today.”

War frowned and reached for the beer bottle the bartender placed on a coaster in front of him. He tipped it back between his fingers and took a swig. “Now that you mentioned band stuff, I didn’t like the way you countermanded me in front of everyone, especially when it comes to Lace.”

I tensed.

“Before you get all defensive. I realize it’s been difficult having her on the bus with us.” War turned to look at me, elbows propped up on the bar.

He had no fucking idea.

“I want you to hear me out though. Tempest has a real good thing going on right now.” He threw the scarf back behind his shoulder and leaned back in his bar stool. “You’ve seen the press stuff that PR chick from Black Cat keeps emailing over?”

I nodded.

“’We’re Through’ is top ten on the Billboard. That’s fucking huge.” War pulled his sunglasses off his head and tossed them on the bar before taking another swig of beer. “Bryan, I know you weren’t happy when I insisted that we take the deal that excluded Lace. But the fact that we’re about to hit it big just proves to me that it was the right decision.”

Deep down, I had to agree. But if it had been up to me, I would have left that deal on the table. I never would have left her behind. “Then why are you pushing so hard to get her to perform with us?”

“Same reason I wanted her to come out with us on the road when we were with RCA. Visibility. Exposure. You heard her today. She’s the shit. All it’s gonna take is the right person to hear. She has the potential to be a bigger deal than that British chick who came out of nowhere last year and won a Grammy.” He stared at me his eyes narrowed. “Lace doesn’t know what’s good for her. If left up to her, she makes piss poor decisions like hooking up with a guy like Martin. If it weren’t for that she’d probably already be a big star.”

“War,” I said low, swiping a thumb across the condensation on my glass. “Did you ever stop to think maybe that isn’t what she wants? This lifestyle, being in the business, it’s hard. It’s not for everyone. She’s really into fashion. She could still go back to school.”

“Bullshit.” He snorted. “That’d be a fucking waste.” He slammed his beer down so hard the glass clattered on the granite surface of the bar. “Lace is going to be up on that stage in Atlanta. Rolling Stone is coming to do a feature on us and it’s the perfect opportunity for her. And I want you to back me up on this. With the band and with her. You’re way too soft on her. Always have been.” War clapped me on the back as though that would soften his words. “Don’t take this the wrong way. I love that bitch, you know I do.”

Yeah I knew. Though I was beginning to think more and more not enough and not the way she deserved. I scrubbed a hand over my head. I felt stretched to the snapping point just like back then.

2 years ago

“What’s up?” War jogged up to me on the city sidewalk.

“Nothing much,” I replied, keeping my hands in my jacket pockets. I wasn’t up to our usual fist bump.

“Didn’t you hear me calling you?”

I shook my head. I’d heard him alright, but I didn’t feel like talking. Not to War, not right now, not so soon after the beach. I just wanted to get home and try to figure out what I was going to do. It’d only been a couple of days since I’d had Lace’s tongue in my mouth, and I was torn between the two of them and the guilt was eating me up alive.

“I wanted to tell you Dizzy’s girlfriend came through. We got the gig at Lakeside.”

“Cool,” I replied with less enthusiasm than the news warranted. Lakeside was a huge deal. Lots of industry types hung out looking for the next big thing, ever since the Dirt Dogs had been discovered there.

“You don’t sound too excited.”

I shrugged.

“Girl problems?”

I froze.

“Don’t I know it,” War continued on as if I’d answered in the affirmative. “Lace’s got me all tied up in fucking knots.” He laughed and pushed my shoulder. “I mean I wish she’d let me tie her up.”

I let out an uneven breath, and tried to zone out of the conversation. Dizzy was right. Keeping my feelings for Lace hidden was not a viable long term plan.

“I’ve never known a girl like her. Hot as shit. She’s one in a million, man.”

I nodded. That was Lace all right.

“You know, bitches been dropping their panties for me since middle school,” War bragged, voice lowering to a confidential level as we reached the bus stop and sat down on the bench. “But with her, when it really matters, it’s like she’s got ‘em super glued on.”

Ok that was it. Now I wanted him to shut the fuck up.

“Eighteen months we’ve been an exclusive deal and I still haven’t convinced her to go all the way.”

My eyes widened.

“I know, man.” War snorted. “I must have the worst case of blue balls ever.” He pulled a hand through his long hair. “To put up with that, I must love her, right?”

My chest burned.

“Getting ready to remedy the situation. I’ve got a plan to make her first time special, you know, romantic and all that shit. She knows I’ve got a hotel room reserved for after prom. You think you could talk Dizzy into covering for her with their uncle so she can be out all night?”

“Bryan. Hey,” War called. “You really spaced out on me. Don’t worry so much. Everything’s always gonna be cool with you and me. Bros before hoes, right?” He glanced at his cell display. “Speaking of hoes, it’s been a couple of hours. I better go find mine. Hope, I’ve given her enough time to cool off.”

13

All by myself in the front lounge of the bus, I stared out the window, watching the snowflakes drift down one after another adding to the already foot and a half high berms along I-95. We were headed south on our way to the Atlanta show. War was passed out in the back. He’d been like that since I finally returned late last night. He’d made me so mad earlier that I’d skipped the show, wandered around Philly until it got dark, and then camped out in a local book store thumbing through fashion magazines until they closed.

It was nearing dawn and I still hadn’t slept any. I rested my head in my hands. The Appalachian pines stood along the roadside, lonely sentinels, tall and dark except for their adornment of white. A similar winter wonderland scene had been the picture on the front of our prom invitations. Prom and Bryan had been on my mind nonstop since our conversation in the elevator.

2 years ago

I set the vellum prom invitation down on my comforter and crossed to the dresser, looking at myself in the mirror. I was in love with this dress. So what if it didn’t fit the winter theme. It was a genuine vintage sixties dress with spaghetti straps, a straight bodice, and a black lace skirt over a blush pink under layer. I’d added a black silk ribbon around my neck instead of jewelry and let my hair cascade long and straight around my bare shoulders.

I practiced a smile. I needed the practice, since I hadn’t been doing much smiling lately. Not since I’d told Bryan how I felt. Not since that kiss on the beach. Not since I’d bared my soul to him in that ballad.

I’d been so naïve, thinking that the kiss had been special, that it had meant something. What it’d meant was that Bryan was a guy like any other, taking what was thrown at him, and not the honor bound knight on a white charger that I’d made him out to be since I was a little.

Bryan didn’t want my love or the action. He hadn’t come around since then and he didn’t spend any time with me at all unless it was with the band or in a group setting.

Any remaining doubts as to where we stood were eliminated when I came out of class a few days later, following my usual shortcut across the quadrangle, and saw him with his tongue down Misty Rivera’s throat. Misty Rivera was one of the biggest sluts in the school.

Get over him Lace Lowell, I reasoned with myself. He’s not worth it. But as the days turned into weeks and graduation drew closer, I’d learned that reason didn’t mean jack shit when it came to matters of the heart.

I pressed my lips together and turned away from my reflection. Tonight wasn’t about Bryan. It was about War and me, and about going forward. War loved me. War wanted me. I was lucky to have him. Most of the girls at Roosevelt High wished they were in my shoes. It was time I showed him how much I cared.

I glanced at the bedside clock and frowned. My handsome guy was late, over an hour now. I hadn’t realized. Why hadn’t he called?

“Lace.” I heard Dizzy’s voice through the door.

Finally, I thought as I opened it.

Dizzy’s eyebrows rose. “Where’d you get that dress?”

“A yard sale. Took it in a little bit.” I shrugged.

“You look really beautiful.” He took my hand and placed it on his arm, escorting me down the stairs.

“Why aren’t you dressed, Diz? I thought you were going with Elaine.”

“There’s been a change in plans. I’m running out to the drug store for War, then going over to his place. He’s sick off his ass. Told me he’s been retching his guts out for the past couple of hours.”

“Oh, no! Why’d you let me get all dressed up?” I heatedly complained descending the stairs, and then froze when I saw Bryan standing there.

“Hey, Lace.” Bryan gazed intently at me. “You look incredible.” In a traditional tux with a black bow tie, his long brown hair practically tangling in his long lashes, he took my breath away. “Hope it’s ok if I take you instead.”

“Sure,” I managed, practically drowning in his sexy hooded eyes. He stepped forward and slid a white rose wrist corsage bracelet on my arm. Goosebumps broke out all over me as his fingertips brushed across the delicate skin of my inner wrist.

Dizzy’s brow creased as he looked back and forth between the two of us. He cleared his throat. “Bryan can I see you in the kitchen for a minute?”

I heard the sound of harsh whispers as soon as they disappeared behind the swinging door. I started to move closer to try to hear what they were saying when Bryan suddenly came back out. “Where’s Dizzy,” I asked perplexed.

“He went on.” Bryan placed a hand on the center of my back and guided me toward the front door. “We’d better get going. We’re already too late for your dinner reservation. We’ll miss the dance if we don’t leave soon.”

I saw the limo as soon as I stepped out onto the front porch. I glanced shyly at Bryan. “You don’t have to do this for Warren.”

“I’m not doing it for him.” He stared at me, the overhead porch light illuminating the intense gleam in his eyes. He reached out and ran a hand through my hair, sifting the individual strands through his fingers. Somewhere in the distance a car door slammed. “I’m doing it for you,” he admitted with a half-smile. “You deserve a night like this. Come on.” He took my hand and led me to the limo.

The night was pure magic. For the first time in my life, I felt like the fairy tale princess I’d always dreamed of being. I didn’t even try to pretend it was the dress. I knew it was being with him. Arm in arm dressed in my finery, I let go of all my concerns, lived for the moment, and danced with my prince. As we moved together, I unashamedly allowed myself the pleasure of touching and looking at him, without even attempting to hide how I felt. He held my hand cradled to his chest and by the time the last slow song of the evening came on, I had convinced myself he felt the same way about me that I did about him.

Back in the limo, I snuggled close to him, laying my head on his strong shoulder while he stroked my hair. I sighed contentedly. But before long, I glanced out the tinted window and saw we were pulling up to my house. Was it midnight already?

I didn’t want this night to end. I couldn’t bear to go back to a reality where he was so close and yet so distant. “Bry,” I began, tilting my head to look at him.

“Yeah, Lace,” he replied absently as he stroked my cheek and stared at me.

“Come inside with me.”

I felt the sudden tension in his body.

“No, Lace,” he whispered after a long moment. “I can’t.”

Rejected.

Again.

A sharp pain sliced across my breast bone. I squeezed my eyes shut and blindly reached for the door handle.

His hand closed over mine. “Lace, listen.”

“No,” I hissed. “Why Misty Rivera, Bry?”

He cursed under his breath. He took my chin in his hand and gently tilted my face back. “Because I can never have the one who really matters to me.” He brushed a soft kiss across the side of my mouth.

So this was about War. Seeing the determined set to his jaw and the steeliness of his stare, my heart sank.

“Let me walk you inside.”

Bleakly, I nodded.

Outside on the sidewalk, I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to ward off the sudden chill that made my teeth chatter. He took off his tuxedo jacket and draped it around my shoulders. The warmth and the spicy scent of him lingered in the material.

I fumbled with the key at the front door and he took it from me. Once we were in, he dropped the key into the glass bowl next to the phone. It rang with a tone of finality.

“Goodnight,” he started but trailed off as he caught a glimpse of the disappointment I hadn’t been quick enough to hide from him. He reached out and turned me back to him, his grey green eyes intently searching mine. “You’re not going to cry, are you?”

“I never cry.”

“What’s this,” he asked softly, running a fingertip under my eye.

“I’m just tired. The cold wind…”

“You’re lying.”

“So are you, Bryan Jackson.” My hands fisted. “Denying what’s between us.” I handed him the tuxedo jacket, and kicked off my shoes. I tossed my hair back and took a deep breath for courage. I could do determined, too. I peeled off one of the thin straps of my dress, first one shoulder, and then the other. I looked him straight in the eyes daring him.

Bryan didn’t move.

But the dark flash of his eyes and the flare of his nostrils emboldened me. I reached back and released the hook and lowered the zipper. The dress puddled at my feet in a black and pink pool of chiffon and lace.

Shoulders back, chin lifted I stood before him completely vulnerable and nearly naked in a strapless corset, matching panties, and gartered stockings.

He stood still a moment longer and then eyes full of fiery intent, he reached for me and in one step he claimed me, crushing his lips and his body to mine.

“Lace.”

“Huh.” Dazed, I turned toward the sound of his voice. I hadn’t even heard the door slide open. His heavy lidded eyes were within inches of my own. Bryan leaned over the bus banquette, looking sexy as sin his hair all tousled from sleep.

I shook my head free of the tangled webs of the past.

“I called your name twice,” He reached over and rubbed a strand of my hair between his fingers. The subtle yet familiar movement made my scalp tingle. “What were you thinking about?” he asked in that low intimate voice of his that made everything else in my body tingle.

“Prom night,” I whispered.

He blinked.

“It seems to keep coming back to that for us,” I whispered. He looked much as he had the first night I’d seen him on this bus, only no jeans just black boxers and those low enough on his hips to make me think of only one thing. And he was close enough that I could act on that thought. I extended my arm out and laid one palm against the smooth skin at the center of his bare chest and the other one a lot lower.

He swallowed and glanced behind us. The door to the sleeping section of the bus was closed. He grabbed my elbows and tugged me out of the banquette. I stumbled forward, feeling the rock hard strength of his chest through the thin material of the button down shirt of War’s that I’d worn to bed. My breasts tightened instantly against his warmth and my mouth parted at the exact moment that his lips touched mine. A flood of heat rushed through my blood. The intensity of my longing after all this time was almost too much to bear.

I whimpered as he pressed me into the partition, the wall an unyielding surface behind me, his chest, his hips, his thighs, and his erection even harder. He began devouring me everywhere his mouth could reach. His lips, his tongue, and his teeth doing wicked things to me that made me moan and beg for more.

He lifted my hands stretching my arms up over my head and pinning them against the wall in his tight grip. I felt the cool air caress my skin as the oversized sleeves of my shirt slid down to expose my arms all the way to my elbows while he pressed impassioned wet kisses across my cheek and then down my arched neck.

“Dammit Lace, stop me. We shouldn’t be doing this,” he rasped in a raw voice before drawing my earlobe between his teeth and then tracing the shell of my ear with his talented tongue. Breathing heavily, he eased back and stared down at me with lust filled eyes. “How am I supposed to get over you when you respond to me like this?”

He wasn’t over me?

This was news to me. It seemed to me all our conversations had been past tense.

“I don’t want you to get over me,” I whispered, angling my hips forward and rocking over him. My body took over, ignoring the faint protesting voice of common sense in my mind.

He groaned, and then suddenly he went completely still.

Certain we’d been discovered, I turned my head to look over my shoulder. No one was there. The door was still closed. Confused, my eyes went back to him to find that he was staring at my bared arms.

“Fuck.” Bryan yanked both my hands down and flipped them over at the wrists. When his head came back up his eyes were bright with fury. The look on his face almost made me wish War had found us instead.

I tugged my wrists free and pulled down the sleeves of War’s shirt while trying to ease away from him. Cold shame doused the raging desire that had consumed me only a moment ago.

“Whatcha shooting up, Lace? By the looks of those track marks, I’d say you’ve got an expensive habit.” The evenness of his tone was at complete odds with the fire blazing from his eyes. “War helping you out with that?”

I didn’t answer. I tried to twist away, but he caged me in with his arms.

“I can’t believe you’d get into something like this. Not after all you went through with your mom.” Exhaling heavily, he dropped his forehead to mine. His eyes were so close I could make out the pixilated variation of grey and green as well as read the concern that had filled them.

His gentleness crumbled any chance I had of keeping him out.

“What is it, Lace?” he rephrased again voice low.

“Heroin,” I admitted softly.

14

The airbrakes on the bus suddenly hissed, making me jump as the tour bus lurched to a stop. I was tense as fuck struggling to come to terms with what Lace revealed.

Heroin.

Could it be any worse?

“What the hell?” War exclaimed.

Apparently it could.

At the sound of his voice, I dropped my hands from around Lace’s shoulders and took a step back. Lace pulled the gaping edges of her shirt back together. Then we both stared at him, looking guilty as shit.

War obviously had no trouble putting one and one together. Without pause, he came right at me eyes narrowed and hands fisted tight, but Lace slid in front of him.

“War,” she purred seductively lids lowered to a placating half-mast. “It’s not what you think. Bryan just saw my arms. He was just getting up in my face about my using.”

War’s gaze flicked to me for confirmation.

I nodded, though I was feeling sick to my stomach, mind and guts swirling with the toxic mess of all of it. The drugs were a game changer. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t just stand on the sidelines anymore.

War leaned down and laid a wet one on Lace’s mouth. The mouth I had just thoroughly explored. “Go on to the back,” he told her in an authoritative tone. “Bullet and I need to talk.” Eyes on me, he dismissed her with a pat on the ass.

She hesitated, glancing out the window. “But I want to go into the hotel. Get a shower in a real bathroom.”

“You will, babe. I promise. Just give me a minute with Bullet, alright?”

She nodded and headed to the back without looking at me.

Good plan.

War pressed the button to close the door as soon as she passed through, the atmosphere between us instantly supercharged with threat.

War’s eyes were narrowed with accusation when he turned back to me. “We’ve been through a lot together, brother. So I’m having a difficult time understanding why I should find you alone with my woman again, only this time her mouth tastes like fucking cigarettes.”

Shit.

I scrubbed a hand over my face.

“I get she’s beautiful. And I’m not blind. I know you’ve had a thing for her since high school.” War continued voice low and menacing as he took a step toward me. His chin dipped and his gaze leveled with mine. “But you know the code, she’s,”

a hard shove

“off,”

another hard shove,

“limits.”

The last shove was punctuated with an exasperated exhalation.

I’d taken what he’d dished out, standing my ground while my body vibrated with restrained anger. The only reason I didn’t retaliate was because I felt that I probably deserved that much.

But not more.

Nostrils wide I pulled in air and leaned in. My hands balled into fists. I was revved up, too, just as furious about the drugs as he was finding out that I had kissed Lace.

He studied me for a moment. The contact seemed to have taken his anger down a notch, but a wall of distrust had risen in its place.

“War,” I wanted to try to explain. My hands loosened as I stood down realizing the situation wasn’t going to escalate further, at least not tonight. “Listen, I…”

“No,” he cut in. “You listen to me, Bullet. Next time you’re feeling horny.” War’s face twisted. “You go and get your own pussy.” He turned and moved toward the back, but stopped in the doorway. “Tell me this though.” His head dipped, turning slightly in my direction, but not all the way. It was almost as if he didn’t want to look me in the eye. “You come on to her or was it the other way around?”

“It was all on me, brother.”

Some of the tension drained from his rigid stance, and he turned to face me. “I’m serious about not wanting to find you alone with her.” He let those words hang in the air for a minute between us before hitting me with a look. “And don’t hassle her about the drugs anymore either. She beats herself up enough about that. I’ve got the situation under control.”

I had major doubts about that and a lot of other things now, but I decided to keep that to myself. I was clenching my jaw so tight my teeth ached. I needed some time to think things through, and I needed to talk to Lace.

“Don’t fuck with me, brother,” War warned just as the door closed. “Or I promise you friendship aside, Bryan, I will mess you up.”

I watched War throw a couple of things into an overnight bag, his movements abrupt. His muscles were taut beneath his red tee. He’d yet to look at me. I wondered what had happened. The door to the front lounge had been closed so I hadn’t been able to hear. Nerves frayed with unease, I pulled on some jeans but left War’s shirt on. I figured things would go better if I was wearing the team colors so to speak.

“Come on, babe.” War’s voice sounded jarringly loud after the protracted period of silence. He grabbed my hand and led me off the bus. I didn’t see Bryan or any of the others. Their curtains were open and the bunks had been vacated. Apparently, everyone was just as eager to be off the bus for some down time and a bit of space.

War didn’t say anything as we picked up a key and headed to our room. He slid it in the door and I entered ahead of him walking straight through to the sliding glass door on the other side of the room. The surrounding forest was almost completely shrouded in fog. In the early dawn, the Appalachian foothills were a fuzzy purple shadow in the distance.

I heard the door click closed behind me, and then a thump as the overnight bag hit the dresser. I wrapped my arms protectively around my waist. I didn’t know what to expect, but I knew I’d had enough of this tension and imagining the worst. I turned to face him. “What’s going on War?”

“I know what happened. Bryan told me.”

My stomach did a major flip and a roll when I saw the hurt written all over his face. That’s not what I wanted. I was such a screw up. I just couldn’t seem to control myself when it came to Bryan.

“I can’t believe he pulled something like that with you while I was sleeping just a couple of feet away.” War continued moving across the room until he was even with me. He reached toward me, his fingers threading into my hair.

Wait, back up the conversation. I thought. What exactly was he talking about? I’d been afraid Bryan had told him about prom night. Was this just about today?

War held my head in place, brown eyes probing mine. “I warned him to back off, but I don’t trust him anymore, babe. Not with you.” His chest expanded as he took in a deep breath. “I love you, Lacey. Maybe I don’t say it enough, but you got to know I do. I need for you to tell me that you feel the same because I have a feeling that this is gonna come down to choosing sides. And if it does, I want you to know, right here, right now, that I’d pick you over anyone else.”

My eyes closed. I leaned a cheek into his hand. This was why I’d fallen for War. The surprisingly demonstrative things he did like this. I’d be an idiot to screw this up. He’d just said exactly what I needed to hear. Unlike Bryan, War didn’t seem to have any problem putting me first.

It was time I did the same.

I covered the hand War had in my hair with my own, before pulling it down to my lips. I turned it over and kissed his palm. Then I told him that I loved him too and stood on my toes to press my lips against his.

He took my hand and walked me to the bed, moving my hands out of the way when I started to unbutton my shirt. “Let me.” Eyes intent on his task, I watched him slowly work his way down to the last one. His warm hands brushed softly against my bare shoulders and the shirt fluttered to the floor. He bent down and took one of my breasts into his wet mouth. Staring at the landscape painting on the wall across from me, I held his head to my breast, both my hands entangled in his silky hair, wishing I felt more than I did, wishing I had a magic wand to banish thoughts of Bryan Jackson forever from my mind.

15

An insistent rapping that matched the pounding in my head woke me. Bleary eyed, I squinted at the hotel clock.

Shit. I had slept the whole fucking day. No surprise given the amount of liquor I’d consumed.

Someone banged on the door again. “Hold on!” I shouted, swaying unsteadily as I shoved my legs into my jeans and managed a couple of buttons before I made it to the door and swung it open.

“You look like crap,” Dizzy pronounced after looking me over.

I shrugged. Incidentally, not a good move when you’ve got a hangover as bad as mine.

“War told me to get you.” Dizzy came into the room, glanced at the all the empty bottles, and raised a brow. “You drink all that by yourself?” he asked.

I nodded, which was another bad idea. The motion made the room rock and my stomach roll. I ran to the bathroom, rejecting whatever was left in my tortured guts.

Dizzy walked in just as I was flushing the toilet. He leaned his rear against the counter. “What’s going on? The guys and I heard you and War arguing on the bus. Sounded like he threatened you.”

I stood up slowly holding onto the door frame for support before pushing Dizzy aside to unwrap one of the plastic drinking cups so I could rinse the vile taste out of my mouth. “Can you give me a break here?” My gaze met his in the mirror as I pulled out a toothbrush from my bag.

Dizzy unsympathetically shook his head. “This is because of my sister, isn’t it?”

Toothbrush sticking out of the corner of my mouth, I closed my eyes and nodded.

“He finally find out about prom?”

I shook my head. No. Not yet. Thank God. Be more than just a shove and a warning when he found out about that. I went back to scouring my teeth.

“What then?” His eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you slept with her again?”

I spit, drank a sip of water, rinsed, and spit again. “Dizzy, c’mon.”

“No, Bryan. You come on. You know how War is about her. Remember what happened when he found out about her and Martin?”

“Yeah, I remember.” Dizzy knew the basic facts, but he didn’t know the whole of it. War’d scared the hell out of me though. I’d found out how deep his feelings for Lace ran as well as how closely they mirrored my own. This was such a fucked up mess. “You know Lace is using now too?”

“Yeah Bryan, I fucking know. She said she’s quitting. That she’s got it under control.”

“And you believe her?”

“I gotta believe her.” He shrugged, but appeared troubled. “What can I do? It’s her life.”

Yeah, that was pretty much the same basic conclusion I’d come to…after nearly drowning myself in a sea of booze, thus the God awful hangover. I was really worried how this was all going to play out in the end. War’s warning hadn’t been an idle threat. I knew he would do anything to keep her, just as I would give up anything for a chance to make her mine. Knowing that they were both shooting up had ratcheted up my sense of urgency about everything. I didn’t want a replay of what’d happened with War before.

2 years ago

“War! Asshole! Open the damn door!” I yelled. When he didn’t, I looked over my shoulder and gave War’s mom a wary glance. She looked just as concerned. Her hands were clasped tightly together in front of her.

“How long’s he been in there?”

“Since last night.”

Fuck, I thought.

“He was really upset when he came in.” She bit her lip. “I haven’t seen him that upset since the time he tried to see his dad.”

Yeah, well, I definitely remembered how that went down, and that wasn’t a good sign. I banged on War’s bedroom door again.

Nothing.

“I’m gonna break it down. Ok, Ms. Jinkins?”

She nodded.

I kicked the door with my booted foot, gave it two solid ones. On the third, the wood splintered and the door swung open.

“Shit!” I exclaimed when I saw him. War was face down on the carpet. The room reeked of vomit. Spoons and a syringe lay on the floor beside him. He was deathly still.

“I’m calling an ambulance,” Ms. Jinkins told me and hurried out of the room.

I fell to my knees next to my friend and turned him over.

He groaned.

Thank God. I pulled him up to a seated position and slapped his face a couple of times. “Wake up, dammit. C’mon, man.”

“Why Lacey,” he mumbled without opening his eyes.

“Shit. War. Listen to me. Your mom’s gone to call an ambulance. That’s gonna bring in the cops. Me, personally, I don’t give a shit, but I know you do. You’ve got priors. It’ll land you in jail, that’ll kill the RCA deal for sure. You ok with that?”

War opened his eyes, legs shooting out straight as he tried and failed to stand. He clumsily wiped the side of his mouth. “Mom!” he slurred. “Mom, come here!”

“War.” Out of breath, she ran back into the room, cordless phone in her hand.

“Put the phone down, Mom. I’ll be ok. I don’t need that kind of trouble. Not with my record.”

Her brow creased. Looking uncertain, she glanced at me.

I grabbed War by the shoulders. “Shooting up drugs is serious shit. The next time could be your last. Against my better judgment, I warned him, “You want us not to call the ambulance you gotta promise not to do this kinda shit ever again.”

“I screwed up.” War looked away. “I lost her. I should’ve listened to you about the RCA deal. I should’ve talked to her first and explained, but it’s too late now.” He paused and his voice lowered. “I saw her with him last night, Bryan. She’s with that piece of shit Martin Skellin.”

I knew. I had seen her, too. It had been like having a hot knife rammed into my abdomen. Long legs, short ass skirt. She’d been practically having sex with him out on the dance floor. That guy was bad news. There was no way he loved her. That’s what made the whole deal such a brutal wakeup call. Up until then, I’d been sure that if she ever broke it off with War, she would end up with me.

16

Bryan in a faded black Gibson t-shirt and my brother in his leather jacket were sprawled out shoulder to shoulder on the bus couch playing a video game, the sound of fake gunshots peppering the air all around us through the surround sound. Since we’d re-boarded, I’d felt Bryan’s eyes on me, but we hadn’t spoken since his discovery last night.

War’s arm tightened on my shoulder. I turned to look out the window and saw the mall where War and I had gone shopping earlier today. After I’d agreed to do the song in Atlanta, he’d insisted I have a new outfit. I hadn’t found exactly what I wanted but with a few minor adjustments it would probably be alright.

Conversation buzzed on around me as we continued heading south on I-95. Sleepy, I leaned my head on War’s shoulder as he, Sager, and King continued their game of poker.

War had made love to me twice back at the hotel. He’d never been so tender. I had been a little surprised by his enthusiasm given the amount of dope he’d used the night before. But I understood that it had been his way to show me that he cared and to affirm that I was his, my kiss with Bryan likely weighing on his mind. My mind was on much more than just that one kiss.

2 years ago

Bryan’s hot skin slid against my naked back as I strummed my guitar. Warm kisses rained down first along the base of my neck and then across my shoulders.

I sighed from the sheer pleasure of it.

“Are you ok?” he asked from behind me.

“Mmm,” I responded. I was better than ok. Bryan had just made love to me in my bed, and I was still basking in the afterglow. The darkness that had fallen over me like a shadow since our kiss on the beach had lifted. Afterward, a melody and words had rushed around in my head that I hadn’t been able to wait to get down on paper. I had loved him so much, for so long. Everything finally made sense.

“I mean are you sore?” he asked, trailing a finger softly up and down my spine while I tried to jot down the last of the notes and words on the music paper I always kept beside my bed.

“A little.” I set down the guitar and turned my head, smiling shyly at him over my shoulder. “But not too much.”

His fingertips whispered along the line of the silk ribbon I still wore around my neck. “I love you, Lace Lowell.”

My breath caught, and my heart stopped and then restarted. Its previous stumbling syncopated pace changed to a more harmonious steady rhythm that reflected the joy his words gave me. I shifted, twisting my torso so I could look at him. “I love you, too.” I felt my lips pulling apart, the shy smile blossoming into a radiant one that couldn’t be contained.

My words seemed to have a similar effect on him. Using the roughened pad of his thumb, he reverently traced my fully bloomed smile, his lips curving up at the edges as if he’d absorbed my happiness through that simple touch. His expression grew even more intense as his gaze moved over my face. I stared into the grey green depths of his eyes fascinated by the range of emotions I saw there. Love. Adoration. Desire.

“I’d like to have you again.” My body flooded with warmth. It was a heady feeling to be wanted and desired by the man you loved. He kissed me between the neck and shoulder. “Slower this time,” he mumbled low into my skin.

The first time had been wonderful, but over too quickly, a rush to a culmination and closeness with him that I’d never allowed anyone else. And though I’d messed around with enough guys to know my way around the male anatomy, I’d still been a little unsure if Bryan had been pleased. It was intimidating to know that he’d been with other women. Knowing now that he loved me gave me an additional boost of confidence that I’d been lacking the first time around.

I started to move, but he stopped me, his hands heavy and firm on my shoulders.

“Hold on. Be still. I wanna try something.” His fingers tickled a bit as he untied and slid the silk ribbon from around my neck. “This is sexy as hell. I’m never going to be able to look at a black ribbon without remembering this night with you.”

He leaned over me and pressed closer, the stubble from his chin rough where it rested on my shoulder. I watched the ribbon slide down to unfurl over my breast. A shiver rolled through me as he moved it light as a feather over the tightened bud of my nipple.

“You’re so beautiful.” His words were warm in my ear before his tongue replaced them. As his tongue plunged in and out, I began to feel hot and restless, and when he traced around the shell of my ear with the tip I moaned his name.

I reached for his face. I wanted to bring his mouth to mine.

“No, Lace.” He took my hands and kissed them. “It’ll be your turn in a minute. But for right now I just want you to lie back.”

I gave him a speculative look.

His lips curved up into a seductive smile. “Trust me.”

“Ok Bry,” I agreed.

“I think you’ll like what I have in mind,” he explained, his voice a low persuasive rumble.

“I better,” I teased, stretching out on my bed as he shifted to kneel beside me.

He slanted a brow. “Oh, I’m sure you will.” That sounded like a sultry promise. Still giving me that foreplay smile he slid another pillow beneath my head. “I want to play a little, prolong things this time around. Rule is you look but don’t touch until it’s your turn.”

That sounded like fun. An anticipatory thrill pulsed through me as his heated gaze traveled the length of my body. Heart booming in my chest, I watched his hand open above me. The ribbon unfurled and he glided the soft tip up and over the slope of my breast. The silk barely made contact with my skin, but I was already so focused on what he was doing that I felt it with an intensity that surprised me. Then he withdrew the ribbon and leaned down. I felt the heat of his breath right before I felt the warmth of his lips and the wet of his tongue as he slowly and thoroughly retraced the ribbon’s path. My fingers fisted in the sheets. That felt fantastic. I moaned deep in my throat and my back arched completely off the bed.

“Told you you’d like it,” he bragged, his lips forming into a self-satisfied smile.

I made a face and stuck my tongue out at him. I saw his eyes darken a moment before his face swept down and he captured my tongue in his mouth. By the time he finished with it, I was panting for air and wanted more, so much more than he’d yet given me.

He gave me a wicked grin, and then began teasing and tantalizing with the ribbon and his mouth on my other breast, using just the right amount of heat and pressure to make me go crazy writhing on the sheets insane.

“It’s not enough, Bry,” I admitted breathlessly. My nipples ached and my sex throbbed.

“Not for me, either, Lace.” He moved the ribbon lower, trailing it over my sensitized skin from the middle of my breasts down to my navel. Feathered soft kisses followed. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

My lids slid open. I refocused on his handsome face and saw that his lips were parted and his breathing was just as ragged as my own. Knowing that bringing me pleasure was turning him on that much made me feel as if I was the sexiest woman in the world.

Without pause, he started working on the lower half of my body running the ribbon down one leg and up the other kissing, licking, and getting so very close but never quite touching where I wanted him the most. I began to shudder with need.

“Enough.” I grabbed his hand and stopped him. He turned his head, his smoldering eyes connecting with mine. I wasn’t going to last much longer and I wanted to have my chance to touch him, too. I peered at him between my lashes. “My turn to play.” My voice was rough.

He pressed one more light kiss right on my hip bone, and then switched places with me, straightening the pillows, and folding his hands behind his head. Eyes gleaming, he grinned at me as if he was the one in charge.

“Comfortable?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Not for long,” I promised and took a surreptitious peek at the impressive length of him.

Copying his technique wherever the ribbon landed I sucked, licked, and tasted, every single glorious male inch of him without shyness because this was Bry and I loved him. He was so incredibly sexy, the salty flavor of his skin giving me a bigger buzz than alcohol ever could. I discovered that I loved teasing and working him into a frenzy just as much as he had seemed to enjoy doing with me.

Making love with Bryan was so much more than I had ever imagined it would be. He was passionate and playful, and yet so very tender. His body and its contrasts fascinated me. He was hard where I was soft. His chest was wide and smooth, his pecs defined, and his abdomen was a row of concrete ridges.

When I paused to lick the hard flat coins of his nipples, he moaned my name and grabbed the back of my head. Leaning back, it was me this time who breathlessly ordered him to open his eyes.

Grey green eyes glittering with heat, he gazed back at me through thick eyelashes. I gave him a naughty grin before strategically opening my hand and letting the ribbon drop, the length coiling right around the steely tip of him.

“Enough, imp,” he growled, grabbed me, and flipped me over onto my back. “Playtime’s over.” He kneeled between my legs and brought our bodies together in one smooth masterful motion that felt so good I hummed low in my throat.

Once we were connected and he began to move, the buildup was so quick that it was only moments before we spiraled out of control and climaxed together.

“Wakeup, Lacey,” Like being doused with ice water, War’s voice washed the memory away.

I opened my eyes, feeling disoriented.

“You were moaning in your sleep, babe.” War’s brown eyes were dancing as he smiled. “Remembering the two times earlier, huh?”

My cheeks flushed.

“Bryan, dude,” Dizzy complained. “Pay attention, man. You’re getting us killed.”

“You’re embarrassing me.” I pushed against War’s solid chest, the pressure of my fingers creasing the soft material of his powder blue tee. The close quarters and lack of privacy were clearly getting to me. “Let me out.”

“Come on, babe.” He tried to kiss my cheek, but I ducked away.

“War,” I warned.

“Oh, alright. I’m sorry, babe. It’s just I’m so glad you’re back in my life, and I had a good time with you today. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” I mumbled. I shouldn’t be this upset, wouldn’t be this upset if I hadn’t been dreaming in vivid detail about what it had been like with Bryan. It made what I had with War seem almost tawdry by comparison. “I’m sorry, too. I guess I’m just stressed out about Atlanta. Let me out so I can work on my wardrobe.”

Once alone in the back of the bus, I was able to catch my breath and regain my equilibrium. I placed the outfit I planned to wear for Atlanta on the bed. Low hip hugger jeans with a little flare at the knee, a cool silver peace symbol belt, and then the lacy long sleeved midriff baring top that was really a lingerie piece. That was the part I needed to fix. In its present condition, it was completely see though.

I took out a needle and thread and started to work. After a while, I heard a lot of banging around outside the door followed by the sound of the guys playing their instruments. I picked up my stuff and wandered back to the front to join them.

Bryan’s light colored eyes searched mine for a brief moment before he looked away. I’d immediately recognized the melody he was strumming. It was the one I’d been working on after the first time we’d made love. Lucky for me he didn’t have the lyrics that went with it. If he sang those right now it would probably kill me.

Why was he doing this to me?

17

2 years ago

I smoothed a finger over her brow. She looked so peaceful while she slept.

What had I done?

I’d convinced myself last night that I loved her so intensely that it must be right. But as daylight seeped in through the blinds in her bedroom, I knew that I couldn’t hide from the glaring consequences of my actions.

A couple of soft knocks might as well have been the shots of a firing squad to my guilty conscious.

My gaze snapped to the door.

“Bryan if you’re in there,” Dizzy’s voice whispered from outside, “you need to wake up, man.”

Shit.

Carefully, I moved to the edge of the bed and pulled on the tuxedo pants I’d worn the night before. I glanced back at Lace. She held the black ribbon in one of her hands and was lying on her side, her beautiful blond hair spilled across the pillow. The sheet had fallen away from her chest.

The beautiful Cinderella without her ball gown.

Dizzy knocked again.

Time for the prince to leave.

I slid the ribbon from her grasp, tucked it in my pocket, gently pulled the sheet back up, and moved for the door, grabbing my shirt, jacket, and tie on the way.

Dizzy’s amber eyes widened when he saw me. “I hoped I was wrong.”

I shrugged. I wasn’t going to get into this with him right now.

“War’s on his way over.” Dizzy ran a hand across his face. I felt my stomach drop. “If he sees you here with her, it’s gonna be over for all of us. Ruin everything for everyone. Right when we’ve got two labels fighting over us. Never figured you were such a self-centered prick.”

Panicking, I blurted the first thing that came to mind. “War doesn’t need to know.” My stomach churned. “It was just prom. Getting laid is a rite of passage. It didn’t mean anything.”

“What is that mellow shit you’re playing?” Dizzy’s question brought my wandering thoughts back to the present. Of course he didn’t recognize it. Only Lace and I knew that melody. I’d meant it as a message. To remind her of what we had once shared. To remind her of that night that she had been mine alone.

“Yeah, man,” Sager parroted pushing his jet black hair out of his eyes before he put his pick between his lips and plugged in his bass. “What we need is some good road music.”

“‘Endless Highway.’” King banged his sticks against a practice snare pad.

“No, way.” Sager made a face. “RHCP ‘Road Trippin’.”

I snuck a peek back at Lace while King and Sager continued to argue about the merits of their choices. Her head was down, blond hair spilling over the top edge of an embroidered ivory blouse while her fingers deftly weaved a needle in and out of a scrappy piece of white fabric she held.

“I’ve got it. The perfect song. ‘Born to Be Wild.’ That’s us right there.” King started laying down the intro beat and Dizzy joined in on rhythm guitar.

“Steppenwolf. Hell, yeah. Good one, King.” Sager picked up his cell. “Hold up. We need to get this on our YouTube channel.”

“You guys have a YouTube channel?” I slanted a brow.

Sager nodded. “TMT. Tempting Men of Tempest.” He and King moved back to back, arms crossed over their chests. “We’re dynamite and sin all wrapped up together.”

I laughed.

“Don’t be a hater, man. We’ve got over thirty-thousand subscribers.”

“Lined up lots of good tail because of it,” King said proudly, lips curving up. “Primo poon. Remember, Dana?” He wiggled his brows.

“Oh, yeah.” Sager nodded. “Redheads are sweet. Remember her, Bullet?”

I frowned and glanced over at Lace

Her lips were flat as our eyes met.

“Hey, Bryan.”

I looked back at Sager.

“We need a cameraman.”

I nodded and took Sager’s cell and began filming as soon as the guys started up again. War wandered over during the second play through and provided the vocals. Lace put down her sewing and started twirling around in the aisle on her bare feet, like a young Stevie Nicks in that gypsy top as she sang along with him.

I felt my lips pull up into a nostalgic smile as I watched them. This was how it had all been when we’d first started out, jamming in that old musty garage, covering our favorite tunes. It had been fun and easy when it had just been about the music.

Suddenly, the bus lurched to a stop. I glanced out the window. “Looks like we’re stopping for fuel.”

“Thanks, man.” Sager grabbed his phone from my hand. “Let’s go get some snacks, King.”

“Wait up,” Dizzy called. “I’m coming, too. I need some new reading material. How ‘bout it, Bryan?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Sure.” I glanced at Lace. “I’m betting they have popcorn.”

“Then I’m in.” She turned back. “You want anything, War?”

He shook his head, pointing to the cell he held to his ear. “I need to finish this call.”

While the others filed into the truck stop, I lingered, checking on the driver and trying not to look suspicious. But I was determined to find a moment alone with Lace.

I found her at the back, near the coolers. Placing my hands on her arms, I leaned over her shoulder and wasn’t surprised when I felt her muscles tense beneath the gauzy sleeves. “We need to talk,” I insisted turning her to face me.

“No, Bry.” She shook her head. “What’s left to discuss?”

“Lots.” I pulled my fingers through my hair. “The messed up shit you’re doing with War for one.” Over on the adjacent aisle, I heard King’s raised voice as he popped off to someone. Usually loud and boisterous with a notoriously quick fuse, the only time our drummer was shy and quiet was around the ladies. At the moment, though, I only had interest in one person.

Eyes back to Lace, I shifted closer, trapping her between my arms so she couldn’t move. “I can’t get you out of my head and that was before the kiss we shared on the bus. If you’re being honest, I don’t think you can either. Emptying the minibar was the only thing that kept me from coming and taking you away from him last night.”

I saw the truth reflected in her eyes. “I’ve never forgotten prom and how it was between us,” I said emphatically and probably a little too loudly. I yanked her closer, watching her tongue dart out to moisten her lips. I wanted to pull it into my own mouth, and that was just for starters. “Don’t tell me there’s nothing left to say.” I slid my hands up to cradle her face, and lowered my voice. “Meet me tomorrow morning in the hotel workout room in Atlanta. Eight o’clock.”

“I can’t.” She shook her head.

“Bullshit,” I said tersely. “Find a way, Lace. If you don’t show, I’ll come find you.”

18

The guys were stuffing their faces with fast food.

“C’mon, Lacey,” War admonished when I complained about the smell. He waved a French fry under my nose. “You used to love McDonalds.”

“No, I didn’t.” I shook my head and raised my brows. “You must be getting me confused with the other love of your life,” I teased. “Yourself.”

“Dick’s Drive-In was her favorite,” Bryan muttered under his breath, his eyes meeting mine.

War frowned.

Back in high school whenever War and I fought, Bryan would take me to Dick’s to let me vent.

3 years ago

Sitting on top of the picnic table, tracing the graffiti someone had carved into the wood, I watched Bryan covertly. He had gotten even more handsome over the past year, his former boyish frame filling out in all the right places, especially with the weight lifting he and War had starting doing together. He’d shot up in height, too. He was well over six feet now.

My cheeks started to burn when his gorgeous greyish green eyes met mine. I’d been a sucker for them since I was five. He raised a dark brow.

“What?” I challenged.

“You were totally checking me out, Lace Lowell.” He bumped my shoulder. “Don’t even try to deny it.”

“As if.” I rolled my eyes and took a loud sip of the last dregs of my strawberry shake, desperate for something to ease the dryness in my throat.

He mumbled under his breath.

“What’d you say?”

“I said, you ok now? I mean about War and all.”

“I guess. He just pisses me off. He doesn’t understand why I need to study.” I shivered and rubbed my arms. It had been warm during the day, but now that the sun had gone down, I regretted the short sleeves and not bringing a jacket.

“Do what you need to do. Don’t let him get you sidetracked from your goals, Lace.” Bryan shrugged out of his black hoodie and held it out for me. “Here.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, placing my arms in the sleeves. It was still warm from his body heat. He scooted closer, ducking down to fasten it for me. My nose was inches away from the top of his head. I inhaled the spicy scent of him while he zipped it up. When his head lifted, his face was so close that his warm breath fanned against my mouth. Eyes on his parted lips, I shivered again.

“Geez, Lace. You should have let on sooner that you were this cold.” He used his sexy deep voice that made me want to smash my lips to his.

“I’m alright.” I scooted away, needing some space to get my hammering heart back under control, but then I made the mistake of glancing in his direction. The t-shirt he’d worn under the jacket was snug, way too small. He’d obviously outgrown it. The material stretched tight over his pecs and the sleeves dug into his muscular arms.

The white color was a perfect showcase for his new tat sleeves. I’d told him I thought tats were a waste of money. Looking at his through my lashes, I decided I’d changed my mind. The intricate black Japanese characters spelled out his mom’s and his sisters’ names. They were sexy as hell, and worth every single penny. I imagined tracing the marks with my fingers or maybe even my tongue.

Stop it, Lace. Just like back then, I found myself letting out a shaky breath. Bryan was standing right in front of me and his black tee had ridden up providing a glimpse of his bared midsection as he rummaged around in the top cabinet for a couple of shot glasses. The view of his flat abs and contoured hip bones had me mesmerized.

“Lacey, the guys wanna know if you’re in for a game of truth or dare,” War asked me, his brow dipping. “You ok? You seem really distracted today.”

“I’m fine.” I shrugged. “Does this game work like the one we played when we were kids?”

“Basically, yeah. We still find out embarrassing shit about each other. But now we get really drunk, too,” King explained.

“Fun times,” I quipped.

“Rules are twenty dollars and a shot of tequila to whoever passes the truth or dare challenge,” Dizzy announced. “Oh, and the last person left standing usually gets a bonus prize.”

“A kiss from Lace,” King shouted out.

I smiled at his enthusiasm. “Like that’s anything special.”

“How ‘bout a night to sleep in the back bedroom?” Sager asked, rolling up the sleeves of his Black Flag concert tee. “No offense, Lace, but you and War have been hogging it.”

“Not happening,” War muttered. “I’m sleeping with Lace, and I’m not sleeping with her in a bunk.”

“Uh-oh, looks like someone drank all of the tequila recently.” A look I didn’t understand passed between Dizzy and Bryan. Bottles clinked as Sager continued to search for something suitable in the cabinet. “How about vodka?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Ok. I guess.”

Dizzy removed his jacket and took a seat on the couch beside War and me. Sager, King, and Bryan sat on the couch opposite.

“Who’s going first?” Bryan asked.

“We’ll just do it in reverse alphabetical order,” War suggested.

“That’ll put me last,” Bryan cautioned.

“Great. That means the game’s already his.” Dizzy filled the glasses. “No one can hold their liquor the way Bryan can.”

“War you’re up,” King called, tapping a full shot glass. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

King’s dark brow rose. “I dare you to share what you said about Avery Jones when she was here on the tour bus.”

“You’re such an asshole, King,” War growled. “I’m out.” He shot to his feet. I intercepted a heated nonverbal exchange that passed between War and Bryan. “I got better things to do than play this idiotic game with you pissants. I’m going to the back.” He leaned in and gave me a tight lipped kiss.

“I’ll come with you.” I started to rise.

“That’s alright, babe. Stay. Come when you’ve had enough. Knowing these mother fuckers, that won’t be long.”

I stuck my chin out. “I can hold my own.”

“You sure can.” Sager’s head bobbed in agreement. “I’ll never forget that time you stood up to those cops when they hassled King about his brother.” He glanced at his best friend. “You remember, King?”

“Oh yeah.” King nodded. “She told ‘em to piss off, we don’t get to pick our family.”

“Just our amigos.” I held out my knuckles to King for a fist bump.

“Ok.” Dizzy smiled. “You’re next, Sager, mi amigo.”

“Alright, Diz.” Sager leaned back and stretched out his arms. “Give me a truth.”

Dizzy ran a finger over his eyebrow piercing. “You really do the nasty with Mrs. Neboski on that science field trip to Lake City?”

Sager gave a quick nod.

“Hot damn!” Dizzy exclaimed. “I thought that was just urban legend.”

Expressions ranging from disgust to admiration marked the individual band members’ faces as Sager pocketed his cash and knocked back a shot of vodka.

Bryan refilled the shot glass. “You’re next, Lace.”

I pulled the shot glass with the twenty underneath toward me.

“Truth or Dare?” Bryan asked.

Shit. This could be tricky. Bryan had a devilish glint in his eye that concerned me. “Truth…no dare,” I changed my mind nervous how far he might take things.

“Hmm.” Bryan ran a finger slowly across his lips.

My stomach did a little flip. I licked my dry lips as he continued to stare at me and perseverate. He was obviously enjoying making me squirm.

“Kiss your brother…on the lips.” Bryan grinned.

“No way!” I snorted.

Dizzy shook his head. “That’s just sick, man.” He glared at Bryan. “I’m giving her my turn and she earns a modify since you went so far over the line.”

“Agree,” Sager said, rubbing his chin. “Now she has to kiss you for forty bucks. You’re almost like a brother to her anyway. She’s already so pissed. I’d watch out. She might bite.”

“Promise?” Bryan gave me a slow once over.

My cheeks warmed. “I just might, you ass,” I warned as I crossed over to him, ignoring Dizzy who’d suddenly started shaking his head at me. I was surprised my brother didn’t have more faith in me. That forty dollars was already mine. I bent down to kiss Bryan. As soon as our lips touched, he took over and I forgot all about our audience.

I shouldn’t have.

“Lace.” War’s voice snapped my head up like a whip. “Come to bed.” His expression was furious.

Blood roaring in my ears, I swiped my winnings off the table before hurrying after him.

19

I shifted in my bunk, scrolling up the volume again, trying to drown out the sound of Lace and War yelling at each other in the back.

I knew that I shouldn’t have taken things so far with that kiss. But I wasn’t sure I gave a damn. I’d wanted to taste her again.

I had a sudden terrible thought. What if War got physical with Lace? Not that I’d ever seen War hit a woman, but drugs could make you do irrational things.

I pulled out my earbuds, listening intently.

Just more shouting.

But now that my imagination had gone there, I couldn’t rest until I saw for myself she was ok. I threw my legs over the side and started to climb down from my top roost.

“Stay put.” Dizzy grabbed a hold of my leg before my foot even hit the floor. “Get the fuck back in bed. Haven’t you caused enough trouble for one night?”

“I’m going to make sure he doesn’t hurt her,” I told him flatly.

“He wouldn’t dare. Not with you standing by, ready to take her off his hands.” A pause. “Besides you know Lace can take care of herself.”

I wasn’t so sure about that. I wasn’t sure about a lot of things anymore.

“Why can’t you let it go?” Dizzy asked in a low voice.

I didn’t answer. Dizzy would never understand. I’d never seen the dude have an emotional connection with any woman. He went through them at a faster clip than I ever had. Diz had the whole grab ‘em and bag ‘em thing down to an art form. It seemed like an obsession with him more than a game.

Things had finally settled down back there. My tensed muscles began to loosen. But then I smelled something acrid burning.

Fuck.

They were shooting up again. I put my buds back in and blasted up the volume. I could certainly relate to Axl’s sarcastic introduction to “Estranged” from the live version. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut as Slash’s guitar solo began to wail in my ears.

I tapped the tips of my stilettos. Nerves on a raw edge, I peeked out around the stage column. The Philips Arena was a complete sell out. An ocean of fans bounced in the pit as Bryan stood up front, playing the catchy guitar riff in “We’re Through.”

Shirtless, War was a sexy sight as well, upper torso gleaming with a fine sheen of perspiration under the intense heat of the spotlights. A pair of panties arced through the air and landed at his feet. With practiced ease, he bent down, picked up the scrap of pink material, and held it in the air before stuffing it in his jeans pocket.

The crowd roared their approval.

Why couldn’t I get all hot inside for him? Studded belt, low slung dark jeans, crooked smile. What was not to like?

Nothing. Only he wasn’t Bryan.

My gaze segued to his counterpart at center stage. Bryan’s guitar hung crotch level low. His light eyes were half shielded by heavy lids; his expression sublime, entirely within his element. It was a look I’d seen before in a much more intimate setting.

My cheeks warmed.

The sound of voices drew my attention away. An intense Marcus Anthony was talking to someone I didn’t recognize, a suited executive type. The mid-thirties brunette had a curvy figure and was wearing a stylish Marc Jacobs two button, double placard pocket charcoal grey pinstripe with a really cool pair of t-strap pointy toed pumps with four inch spiked heels. Her brown brows were drawn together. “Is she alright?”

“She’ll be ok. Sam and Trevor are back with her.” Marcus gathered the ends of his shoulder length hair into his fist. “Avery’s a professional.”

The suit put her hand on Marcus’ arm. Suddenly, his entire expression softened. A moment later, I saw why, as Avery Jones sank into his arms. Her eyes were red rimmed. I wondered what all the drama was about, but when she looked over in my direction, I threw my hair over my shoulder dismissively.

I didn’t really care what her problem was. I had more important things to worry about than that haughty bitch. She’d probably just broken a fingernail. Tugging at the jagged material on the end of my sleeves, I checked the rest of my outfit one more time. Strategic flesh colored inserts covered everything important up top. My belt hung just right low around my skin tight jeans. It was all good.

I blinked as a camera flashed next to me. Kimberly had just taken another picture of the guys. I’d wanted to strangle War when he’d introduced me to the Rolling Stone photographer. Like I needed any more pressure knowing that the magazine was covering the very event where I was to make my debut.

“Kimberly, how are you?” A handsome man with steely blue eyes, deep dimple grooves, and grey close cropped hair approached her and held out his hand.

“Charles Morris,” Kimberly replied. “I’m surprised to see you here. I thought this was a Black Cat affair.”

“It’s a concert, Kim.” He raised a brow. “As far as I know those are open to the public.”

“Alright Atlanta. Help me welcome former Tempest songstress, Lace Lowell.” War’s voice blared over the venue’s speaker system.

I spun back around.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

My heart was racing from nerves and from the line of coke War and I had done earlier. Shoulders back, I made my way out to him, willing my hands not to tremble. War took them in his own and kissed my cheek before leading me to the piano. I could feel the heavy weight of stares from a packed arena. For a scary moment, I thought I might puke, but luckily it passed.

Taking a calming breath of air, I settled onto the piano bench. As I lifted my head, my eyes met Bryan’s. His gaze was warm and he gave me an encouraging smile. I could do this. I placed my fingers above the keys and began to play the song that I’d written for him. My voice rang out steady and sure. I sounded really good. I relaxed into the song, and by the time I reached the chorus, I could feel that an electrified hush had fallen over the arena.

Wow.

Cool.

War was at my side as soon as I finished. “You nailed it, Lacey,” he said in my ear right before the thunderous applause rained down on us.

My face broke out into a wide smile. War took my hand and led me out to center stage. “Miss Lace Lowell,” he repeated into the mic after the applause died down. “And Tempest.” All six of us took a bow hand in hand, Dizzy on one side of me, War on the other.

“It’s a fucking rush, ain’t it, babe?” War asked after he guided me off stage with his arm around my shoulder.

“It’s amazing,” I agreed, eyes bright from the adrenaline still rippling through my body. Right this moment I felt like nothing was out of my reach.

“Warren Jinkins,” an authoritative voice jarred me from my reverie.

It was the same brunette executive I’d seen earlier with Marcus, only this time she looked extremely vexed. She gestured with her hand. “Come with me.”

“You too, Miss Lowell,” the woman ordered sternly. I looked to War, but he had already moved to follow. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him so intimidated.

We followed the exec back through the busy corridor. Shoulders tight she led us to an empty dressing room, and then turned to face us. Her light brown eyes flashed at me. “Who gave you permission to be out on that stage tonight?”

“I did. She’s one of us,” War answered. “She used to be in the band.”

“Warren.” Mary shushed him with an abrupt hand motion. “Phillip’s Arena is not a high school talent show.” She frowned. “Are you the one paying the nightly rent on this facility? Do you sign the paychecks for this tour?”

His lips flat, brows drawing together, War shook his head.

Oh, now it was beginning to make sense. This dynamo woman must be Mary Timmons the CEO of Black Cat Records.

Mary stepped closer. Even though she had to peer up at him, there was no doubt in my mind that she was totally in charge. “You may think you’re some wild stallion, but the fact is, you’re not. You’re just another horse in my stable. You ever pull a stunt like that again without my prior approval, and I’ll turn you into a gelding. You get where I’m going with this?”

War nodded again. I was surprised he didn’t say yes ma’am. Then those light brown eyes brimming with confidence turned back on me.

Uh-oh. I gulped, fighting the urge to squirm under her perusal.

“That said I want to talk to Lace for a minute.”

War moved toward me protectively.

“Alone,” Mary clarified.

He scooted out of the room like his ass was on fire.

When he was gone, Mary took in a breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You were actually quite good out there.”

“Thank you,” I acknowledged.

“Why haven’t I heard of you?” Mary muttered more to herself than me.

I shrugged.

She frowned and typed into her phone. I heard the bloop of an outgoing text message. “You could benefit from some voice lessons, though. You’re raw, but clearly talented.” She fixed me with a level stare. “Have you ever thought about a career in the music industry?”

The way the CEO studied me, I had a strong feeling that how I answered was really important. “I have. In fact, it’s something I’ve always dreamed of doing.”

“Solo?” Mary’s eyes narrowed. “No band or boyfriend to back you up. Just you at center stage. Win or lose. Think you could handle that?”

I raised my chin. “Absolutely.”

Mary’s brows rose. She studied me for a moment more. “Alright, then. Beth Tate, one of my execs is flying down tomorrow. I want to sit down and talk with you formally in Orlando.”

20

I checked the apartment number against the text from War, wondering what was up with all the cloak and dagger shit. I knocked, and the door immediately swung open. An attractive woman with a low cut blouse and a blue tooth device clipped above her ear swiped her finger over an iPad. “Welcome, Mr. Jackson. Zenith productions and Mr. Morris are pleased you could come. Bar’s in the corner. And if there’s anything else you feel that you need or require, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll make it happen.”

I nodded, and then scanned the swanky setup. It even eclipsed the meet and greet affairs we’d had so far on the tour. The apartment was spacious and modern with dark hardwood floors, multiple seating areas, and chrome and glass fixtures. The DJ’s mix featured a heavy bass line that permeated the entire space. Guests packed the place, most dressed a helluva lot fancier than I was in my navy button down and jeans. I wandered in, my eyes drifting out to the balcony and the intriguing view of downtown Atlanta.

The more intriguing scenery was inside though.

Wearing the same sexy outfit she’d worn on stage, Lace was perched on the edge of a wide white chaise next to War. His long legs were sprawled out in front of him. He noticed me and waved me over.

The man they were talking to turned and offered his right hand confidently. “Charles Morris. Zenith Productions.”

I tossed War a puzzled look. What was he doing here at a party thrown by another label?

“You’re a hell of a guitar player,” Morris told me with a respectful chin dip. “I’ll tell you upfront what I told War. I want you both, and Zenith will make it worth your while to break from Black Cat.” His eyes went back to War. “I’ll let you fill Mr. Jackson in on the details. I’ll give you a call in a couple of days.” He shook War’s hand, then mine, and kissed Lace’s cheek. “I’ve got other business to attend to, but we’ll talk soon.”

Once Morris had faded back into the crowd, I turned to War. “What the hell kinda game are you playing? You know we’ve got an exclusive contract with Black Cat.”

War’s eyebrows went up. “No deal’s ironclad exclusive. I’m just exploring all my options. There are always buyout clauses and Morris says he’s willing to pay them to get us out. Tempest is a major deal now, Bullet. Rolling Stone may do a feature on us. We have a top ten hit. But Black Cat’s still treating us like we’re second tier. We should be headlining our own tour man. Fuck. We don’t even have a music video yet.”

I considered that for a moment. “What do the other guys think?”

War polished off his drink and handed the tumbler casually to Lace. “Could you get me a refill, babe?”

Lace’s eyes narrowed, but she did as he asked.

“The other guys aren’t included in this deal,” War admitted in a low, confidential tone when she had gone. “This offer is just for you and me.”

“What the fuck?” My heart thumped hard against my ribs. He looked so nonchalant sitting there planning a deal that would leave the rest of the guys in the group behind. This wasn’t taking care of your friends. It made me wonder how well I’d ever really known him.

“Bullet, wake up.” War stood and the toe of his boots touched mine. He swayed. His pupils were pinned. He was wasted again. “This is just business. Zenith’s offering ten times what Black Cat’s paying. You and I write most of the songs anyway. Face it. The other guys are replaceable.”

“Bullshit.” I leaned in, hands balling into fists. “This is bullshit, War. You forgetting Dizzy was the one who came up with the riff on ‘We’re Through.’ That riff makes that song what it is. Not to mention that he’s a solid rhythm guitarist. Sager and King pull their weight, too. They lay the foundation that gives you the freedom to do the improvising you like to do. Tempest works the way it is. The five of us work. You said so yourself just the other day. What the hell’s going on with you?”

War finally had the decency to look uncomfortable. My gaze slid over to Lace who was watching us from the bar her mouth in a worried frown.

“What about her, War? What’s Lace gonna say when she finds out you’re going to stab her brother in the back?” Glaring at him, I dug my hands deep into my pockets and cursed my bad luck that I found no cigarettes. I needed a smoke in a bad way right now.

“She’s getting her own contract with Zenith outta this.” War shrugged. “She’ll come around eventually.”

“You’re fucking deluding yourself if you think that’s gonna happen.”

War straightened to his full height. He was leaner but a half inch taller than me, something we used to joke about. I didn’t feel like joking now. “She’ll understand I did what I had to do.”

“What’s going on?” Lace returned with War’s drink and glanced back and forth between the two of us.

“Nothing, Lacey. Just guy talk, right Bullet?”

I didn’t answer. I stared at War for a long time, feeling completely sucker punched by his actions. My best friend seemed to have suddenly morphed into someone completely different. Or maybe the problem was me. Maybe I had turned a blind eye to the subtle changes in him over the past two years. Fame was a rabid bitch that had bitten War. I wondered how long it would be before he decided I was expendable too.

My gaze tipped to Lace. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier, but you were really great tonight. You were meant to be up on that stage.”

“Thank you,” she replied looking embarrassed.

“I’d better get going.” I glanced at my watch. “It’s late. I wanna hit the gym early in the morning.”

She dipped her head. Message received.

“I’m heading back to the hotel.” My eyes slid back to War. “I’ve got a lot of thinking to do.”

21

We’d only just gotten back to the hotel room after the Morris party and here War was, down on one knee, an open velvet box in his hand. I was stunned. I couldn’t believe that he had just proposed to me.

“Lace,” he prompted. His brown eyes were warm, but he cocked his head to the side as in wonder that I hadn’t tackled him in enthusiastic acceptance.

“Yes.” I nodded instead, smiled tremulously, and held out my hand. War slid the pear shaped diamond ring on my finger, pulled me into his arms, and kissed me long and hard. Being engaged to War would give me the security and respectability I craved. I knew he loved me, and I knew him. He wasn’t Martin. There wouldn’t be any surprises. War wasn’t cruel. Why then did I feel so unsettled and unsure?

He’d completely caught me off guard. I hadn’t been expecting anything like this, that’s for sure. There hadn’t been any hints leading up to it. And he’d been acting a little weird, distracted and checking his cell a lot since Bryan left the Morris party. I didn’t know what was up with him. I couldn’t read him like I used to be able to do. And why did I have this niggling suspicion that the Morris deal had something to do with the timing of his proposal?

War pulled back from me and smiled confidently. “We should celebrate.” He moved to the safe and pulled out the leather pouch. He dumped the contents on the desk, immediately placing a brown blob on a two by two piece of tinfoil. He held a lighter underneath the foil and heated it up. “You sure you don’t want at least a little hit tonight?”

I shook my head though my mouth went dry with longing as the heroin liquefied and I inhaled the familiar fumes. My hands shook as I turned away. “No. I’m ok.” I stood with my back to him and looked out the window. The lights of downtown Atlanta were softened by the coming dawn, but there wasn’t anything soft about my heart. It was pounding its way out of my chest with desire for that, ‘little hit.’

Behind me, I heard each one of War’s practiced movements. I knew without looking when he reached the point of drawing up the seductive liquid to a syringe. My resolve rapidly dissolving, I turned around.

“Change your mind?” War’s eyes met mine.

I nodded. What did it matter anyway? I closed my eyes as if that would keep me from seeing what I’d become. Chin down, I crossed to him and held out my arm.

He lifted my chin, his gaze moving across my face. “It’s just a tiny dose. I’ve been lowering the amount each time just like you wanted.” He tied off the tourniquet. His eyes were already heavy lidded as he bent over my arm. He’d already had his dose. Anticipation swirled in my belly as I watched the needle enter my skin. The effect was almost immediate. My brain detached from the world around me as I felt the warm euphoric haze descend. I didn’t even notice when War removed the needle.

When I woke up later I was curled up on my side, War sprawled out on his stomach in a pair of black boxers on the bed beside me. I glanced at the bedside clock. Six a.m. The dose must have been really small. I’d only been out a couple of hours, but War was snoring, indifferent to the world around him.

He didn’t even stir when I moved to the bathroom. I stripped out of my clothes and looked at myself in the mirror. I’d lost twenty pounds over the past year. Food, fashion, passion, music…all were losing their appeal, everything in my life taking second place to my desire to get high. Disgusted with myself, I turned from the harsh truth that stared back at me from the mirror.

A junkie.

As bad as my mother had ever been.

My life that once had so much potential was circling the bottom of the drain. If only I had refused that first hit when Martin offered, maybe things would’ve turned out differently. But I’d been too weak. It had been so much easier to give in to the belief that I was as worthless as my mother had always made me feel than to fight the battle for my self-respect.

I showered and dressed, pausing for a moment to glance down at the sparkling gem on my left hand. I’d made my decision. Hadn’t I? Yet after only a cursory glance at War, I found myself tip toeing quietly out of the hotel room and heading downstairs for my rendezvous with Bryan.

On the elevator ride down to the workout room, I used a rubber band to twist my hair back into a sloppy bun, but avoided looking at my guilty reflection in the mirrored wall. When the doors finally opened, I sighed heavily.

Avery.

Great. She was the last person I wanted to see right now. And besides, what the hell was she doing down here on the workout level with Bryan anyway?

“Good morning.” The redhead took a step back to let me out. She let the doors close without getting on. “I heard you sing last night.” Avery’s hands twisted on the handles of a jump rope. “You were really good.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, eyes narrowing. “Did you have a good workout this morning?”

“Yeah,” she replied, completely oblivious to the double entendre. “I like to jump rope while Marcus does the treadmill.”

“Oh, really?” I peered over her shoulder. “Where is your fiancé?”

“He’s finishing up. Why?”

“No reason.” I shrugged.

Avery stared at me for a moment, her head angling to the side. “Where’s War?”

I didn’t answer.

“I’m surprised to see you down here. You both seemed pretty messed up last night.”

“We had a couple of drinks. It was a party. Anyway, who are you to talk?” Her lips pursed in response to my biting sarcasm, but I wasn’t done. I had better than that. “I seem to remember some internet video of you being pretty smashed yourself at some hotel bar in Phoenix.”

“I wasn’t referring to alcohol.” Avery’s emerald eyes flared. “I’d keep those sleeves of yours pulled down if I were you.”

Sanctimonious bitch.

“Listen, you don’t like me for some reason, and that’s fine. You’re not exactly my favorite person, either. There’s been a lot more tension on the tour since you arrived. But your drug use really concerns me. My brother went down a similar path. It will destroy you. And hurt those who care about you.” She sighed. “I really don’t want something bad to happen to you. Especially if there’s something I can do to prevent it.”

“Oh, please,” I interrupted. “Save the Mother Teresa act for the fans. I don’t need your help or anyone else’s.”

“Hey.” Marcus walked up and kissed Avery’s cheek. “I’m done. You ready to go up?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Avery stood back while he pushed the elevator call button, and then leaned into him. “Think about it, Lace.”

I walked past them without responding. I’d had enough of her highhandedness. But though I tried not to let them, Avery’s words had hit home. I nervously twisted on my engagement ring as I continued down the hall. I inserted my key card and took in a calming breath before I entered the small exercise room.

Sleeveless exercise tank wet with sweat, Bryan was lying on a bench, tatted muscles flexing under an impressive load of free weights. “You ok, Lace?” He racked the bar as soon as he saw me. “You look a little pale.”

I put my shaking hands in my hoodie pockets. Avery Jones had rattled me more than I cared to admit.

“I’m glad you came.” My eyes met his. Reaching for one of the folded towels, he wiped his forehead. “I did a lot of thinking after the Morris party.” He stopped talking as a woman entered the room. “Let’s go somewhere where we won’t be interrupted.”

Hand warm and insistent against the small of my back, he guided me down the hall. He opened the door to an empty massage room. He flipped on the light and closed the door as soon as I was inside. I heard the lock click. My gaze fluttered nervously to his. My blood pressure shot up in response to the intensity of his grey green gaze.

“Bry?” I took a step back. “What are you doing? I thought you said you wanted to talk.”

“I do, and we will.” He took another step toward me, and when I stepped back my bottom came into contact with the counter behind me. I was trapped. He closed the remaining distance between us, his warm hard body, all of it, pressing into mine. I put my hands up to his chest, intending to push him away but my traitorous fingers didn’t get the memo. Instead they pulled him closer. The smell of his spicy cologne surrounded me.

“I’m done, Lace,” he declared. “Done hiding what’s between us.” I’m sure my face registered my shock before his head lowered and he kissed me.

How many times had I wanted him to say something just like that?

A million and one at the very least. Thoughts gave way to sensation as his talented firm lips moved expertly against mine while his hands slid down to my ass. He grabbed me, pulled my hips into his, and pressed against me. He felt delicious, better than anything in the world, and I wanted him so badly. I shivered, allowing him to coax my lips apart. His tongue entered my mouth and slowly slid across my own. My pulse began to beat wildly as his fingers opened and closed massaging the soft flesh of my ass.

He lifted his head, repeated my name, and trailed hot open mouthed kisses down my arched neck. I was just going to slide my hands underneath his shirt when he caught them and brought them to his lips. Suddenly, he froze solid. “What the hell’s on your finger, Lace?” he bit out.

My passion hazed brain took a moment to process his question.

“You’re fucking engaged, aren’t you?” His voice was deadly quiet, but his expression was so wild and wounded that I took a step back.

“Why, Lace?” Bryan scrubbed his face with both hands. When he finally looked at me, his eyes had a tormented glint to them. “How could you do this to me? To us?”

“What us is there, Bryan? Prom was a long ass time ago. War wants me. He’s makes our relationship a priority. When have you ever done that?”

“When could I possibly do that?” Bryan pulled his hair through his fingers. “There was always someone else for you. But I can tell you this. If you were mine, I’d love you better. I’d love you enough to tell you when you’re wrong. The drugs, Lace, they’ll bury you alive. Like they did your mother.

They’re keeping you from seeing the truth that’s right in front of you. How incredibly strong you are. How much you have to give. How much you mean to the people who really care about what happens to you. Like your brother. Like me.”

“War cares about me.” My eyes burned at his harsh words. I recognized the truth in them. It had me digging my fingernails into my clenched palms. But his declaration was too little and too late. War was the safer choice, the wiser choice. I’d taken a risk on Bryan before and look at the downward plunge my life had taken afterward. “It’s really admirable how loyal you are to him, and you’ve been a good friend to me, too.” I peered up at him through my lashes. “That is, when I remember to keep my distance, but that’s hard to do. I guess there’ll be a little part of me that’s always going to be in love with you.” I sighed. “I don’t think anyone ever gets over their first.”

“Lace, don’t,” he whispered, voice low.

“You know how I always wanted a Prince Charming to come and sweep me off my feet?”

“I remember.” His gorgeous face was intense as he focused on me.

“What I’ve been looking for is a man to take me away from my shitty life, a man who would do everything in his power to keep me safe, a man who would put my happiness above his own. War’s that man. I was just too young to see that before and I… I made a lot of mistakes. I don’t deserve him. I’m certainly no prize, but most of the time he treats me like I am. We’ve got to stop doing this, Bryan. I’ve made a commitment to him.”

We were both still, the room completely silent but for our quiet breathing. Bryan’s fingers curled into my upper arms. “Alright, you’ve had your say. Now, it’s my turn.” His eyes glistened. “You say you’ve decided War’s the fucking one.” His voice was quiet but harsh. “How the hell can that be, Lace, when he’s giving you heroin? Some knight in shining armor. That’s bullshit. That’s not putting your happiness above his own.”

I shook my head in denial.

But he was hard to resist. The truth of his words, the pull of his personality, and the warmth and sincerity in his grey green eyes weakened my resolve and that was before he gently skimmed his knuckles down my cheek. “You need to ask him about the Morris deal, Lace. Then you need to open your eyes and see who really loves you. I always have. I always will.”

“What about Avery, then?” I threw out, too afraid to believe what I had wished for so long was true.

“Avery was never more than a friend. What little was there was destined to fail, and the truth is I didn’t want it to succeed. You are the only woman I’ve ever cared for, the only one I’ve ever made love to, the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

“Stop.” I begged. “Why are you telling me this now?” Tears gathered in the corner of my eyes, but I blinked them away. “It’s too late. You make me want to believe in a happily ever after for us, but that’s not reality. That’s a fairy tale. That’s something the woman I once was believed in, but I’m not that woman anymore.”

“That’s not true. That woman is still here. I’m looking right at her. You have more than enough faith for both of us. You’ve just lost your way.” He reached for me, but I drew away. “Talk to War,” he said grimly, “and then you’ll see. He’s the one who’s changed. He’s the one who’s not who he used to be.”

22

The bus ride from Atlanta to Orlando turned into six and a half hours of living hell. I didn’t see Lace at all, but thoughts of her in the back bedroom with War wearing that ring on her finger made me want to tear the hair out of my head.

I let out a loud sigh of frustration. Now that I’d decided to give up everything for her, she wouldn’t let me. If only I could just grab her and take her away, away from War, and away from the deception and drugs, maybe then I could convince her.

As hour bled into hour, I remained alone in the front lounge, settling for killing digital zombies on the bus game console, instead of going back and doing real harm to Lace’s drug enabling fiancé.

When the bus pulled up to the Contemporary hotel, I headed for my room without stopping to make small talk with anyone. The happiest place in the world my ass. It was jammed with parents, children, teenagers, and tons and tons of strollers. Fortunately my boots kept my feet from being maimed by errant wheels as I wove my way to the elevators. When the doors opened, I had to squeeze sideways to fit in. Though there was barely any room to breathe, it wasn’t half as crowded as my brain was right now. Crammed with thoughts of her. Of us.

But what more could I do? I’d said my piece. Lace knew where I stood. Now I had to wait, but I was not a patient man.

She’d better talk to War soon.

I cursed my bad luck that there wasn’t even a real concert to keep my mind occupied tonight, just a short set inside the Magic Kingdom that Tempest and Brutal Strength were obligated to do for one of the tour sponsors who had rented out the entire park for an afterhours affair for their employees.

Once I was inside my room, I dropped my guitar case on the floor and threw my sunglasses and bag on the white duvet that covered a king bed. A quick scan revealed an earth toned interior with modernistic décor similar to the lobby. Nothing to provide any real distraction. I crossed to the sliding glass doors and looked out at the view of the lagoon. I watched a parasail drift back down to the water before sliding my cell out of my pocket and dialing home. It picked up on the first ring. When she said hello she sounded out of breath.

“Hey, Mom. Did I catch you at a bad time?” I asked.

“No, sweetheart. I just came in from work and was cleaning the kitchen.”

I heard the sound of running water being shut off. “Are Miriam and Ann ok?”

“They are. Both made the honor roll again, but we’re all looking forward to the winter break. What’s up with you? I haven’t heard from you in a couple of days? You’re in Orlando, now, right?”

“Yeah.” I turned from the window and flopped on the bed.

“How’s Disney World?”

“I just got here. It’s a little surreal, I guess. Not exactly a rocker kind of place with all these rug rats running around.”

“I can imagine.” She laughed. “How’s Lace?”

Shit. She always had an alarming ability to zoom right in on whatever it was that was bothering me. “She and War got engaged last night,” I stated softly.

“Really?” The line was silent. “I would’ve thought that relationship would have run its course by now.”

I barked a humorless laugh. “Apparently not.” I rubbed a hand over the ache in my chest. “I love her, you know,” I admitted in a quick rush.

“I know.”

“How could you? I never said anything. Was it that obvious?” I worried.

“It was to me, but I’m your mom.” She sighed. “Seems like this has been building for some time. What are you going to do about it, Bry? Have you told her how you feel?”

“Oh, yeah, but it didn’t go over quite the way I’d hoped.”

“Well then, she’s not as smart as I thought she was.” A short pause. “I’m sorry, Bry. Maybe you should consider just letting her go.”

I’d been trying for the past two years.

“There are other girls out there. Any one of them would be lucky to have you. You’re a real catch.”

“Thanks, Mom. I’m glad you think so.” I glanced at my watch. “Hey, I’m sure you’re tired after your shift. I’d better let you go.”

“I’m ok. It’s great to hear from you, Bry. I’m so proud of you and all that you’ve accomplished, but I’ll be glad when you actually get to come home.”

“Me, too. Love you, Mom.”

After ending the call, I threw my cell down on the comforter and stalked to the minibar. After a quick examination, I slammed the door. Figured all this place would have was granola bars and healthy shit. I needed a drink.

An hour later, my left elbow was propped up on the bar at the Outer Rim. I looked out over the lagoon from inside the large open air atrium as a monorail whooshed through the building on the track above me. The bar was small and concave. It only sat four but all the seats were filled as were the couple of low loungers by the windows. Apparently being happy was easier with a little liquid lubrication. For me it was gonna take a helluva a lot.

I tried yet again to generate some interest in the blonde beside me. It’d been wishful thinking that she’d be able to distract me. Even with my mind blurry from four drinks, it wasn’t happening. She was too small on top, too curvy on the bottom, and the eyes and smile were all wrong. In other words, she wasn’t Lace.

I was so screwed.

The blonde took the cherry from her drink, pulled the stem off, and leaned in close. “Wanna see what I can do?” She gave me a flirty smile.

“Not really.” I was serious.

She didn’t get it. She laughed and proceeded to try to wow me with her tongue tying prowess.

Suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I glanced over my shoulder. Lace stood by the gift shop, forgotten souvenirs in her hand as her wide eyes met mine she brought the pile of t-shirts she held to her chest like a protective shield and then spun away.

I squeezed the blonde’s hand. “Nice trick, baby, but sorry, I gotta go.”

“Wait,” she protested, but I ignored her. I threw a couple of twenties on the bar and hurried to the shop. As soon as I entered, I spotted her in the checkout line and called out to her.

Lace tensed before turning to face me. “Hey.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Pretty girl,” she commented.

“I didn’t notice.” I took a step closer to her.

“The only one you’ll ever love, huh?” Her cheeks reddened as she twisted the shirts as if embarrassed that she’d said that out loud.

“Yes, dammit.” I grabbed her arm and pulled her around the counter and over to a secluded corner, next to a bargain bin of Mickey Mouse swimsuits and flip flops.

“Have you talked to War yet?”

“No, not yet. He…”

I moved her backward. “You didn’t like seeing me with someone else, did you?” I grabbed her hands and pinned them behind her back forcing her to look up at me. “Well join the club. I don’t like watching you with him either,” I admitted in a growl.

Her eyes darkened with understanding.

“You need to talk to him. Today, Lace.”

She licked her lips and nodded.

I stared at her mouth. “I’ve laid it out to you how I feel, and I believe you feel the same.” She was fighting it though. She needed a push, and I was going to give her a big one. I came closer, crudely rocking my erection against her. “That’s for you, babe. I’ve been over there with that blonde, but the whole fucking time I’ve been thinking about you. It’s always you.”

Her breath caught. “Stop it, Bry,” she begged in a rough whisper.

“Give me a reason to stop Lace. Or I’m going to take that blonde upstairs and pretend that she’s you.”

She closed her eyes. I could see her pulse beating furiously in her neck. I held my breath waiting for her to answer.

“Excuse me.”

I let go of Lace’s hands and turned to look over my shoulder.

“I need to reorganize the suits,” a shop lady told us. “You two on your honeymoon?” she asked with a raised brow as she started to sift through the bin.

“No,” Lace replied before slipping past me and practically sprinting for the exit.

“Lace, wait.” I caught her by the elbow.

“Let me go, Bry.” Her voice was low and she looked flustered as hell. “I can’t do this right now. I’ve got a meeting with Mary Timmons. I’m already late.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“It didn’t sound like a question,” she rasped. “It sounded more like a threat.”

Fuck me but I liked the defiant glint in her eyes. “You know what I want.”

She shook her head.

So I spelled it out for her. “I want you to tell War it’s over. I want to be able to stop hiding how we feel about each other. I want to hold your hand so everyone will know you’re mine. I want to laugh and flirt with you again. I want to take you out on dates. I want to be the one in the back bedroom with you on the bus instead of him. I want to make love to you and then hold you all night long. I want to wake up next to you in the morning. I want you, babe. Just you.”

She closed her eyes. “I can’t give you what you want,” she whispered, but I saw the surrender written in her eyes when she reopened them, and I knew then that’s what she really wanted too.

23

I tore my arm free from Bryan’s grasp and ran from the shop as if an animatronic Disney villain had come to life and was pursuing me. When I reached the bank of elevators, I stopped to catch my breath and glanced back. Bryan was leaning back against one of the columns of the shop, one ankle crossed over the other, hands in the front pockets of his dark jeans. To the casual observer he might look relaxed, but I knew better. His eyes were watchful. He was like a coiled spring ready to come unwound. I knew because I felt the exact same way.

I watched a mother and a teenage daughter both do a double take when they passed him. Bryan Jackson was every woman’s bad boy fantasy: tall, long legs, tight body, tatted arms, and handsome as sin. And what they saw on the outside was just a small part of all the good that was him.

The elevator door opened. I paused before getting in. I was so tempted to go run to him, who the hell wouldn’t be after what he’s just said. I had to stop doing this though. I’d made my decision, but I really wondered if it’d been the right one. A father and a son hurried onto the elevator. “What number do you need?” the man asked me.

“Twelve,” I mumbled before moving to the back. I shook my head as if that was all it would take to clear away the confusion. After the door closed, I began to fret. What if he did go back to the blonde? I started to shake. I felt kind of woozy like I had a fever. I rubbed my chilled arms, forcing my thoughts back to the upcoming meeting with Black Cat’s CEO.

When Mickey Mouse’s recorded voice announced my floor, I plodded out of the elevator and trudged down the hall to Timmons’ room. Outside the door, a woman with grey green eyes almost as beautiful as Bryan’s smiled pleasantly at me. She had a cell pressed to her ear.

“Just a second,” she told the caller. Balancing the phone between her cheek and shoulder, she held out her hand to me. “Beth Tate. I’m head of PR for Black Cat.”

I nodded and shook her hand.

“She shouldn’t be long,” Beth informed me after ending her call. Sure enough the door popped open. Charles Morris came storming out, straightening his tie and buttoning his suit jacket. Beth slid past the Zenith exec on her way into the room. He had pink lipstick smeared on the side of his mouth. When he looked at me I pointed it out, trying to hide my surprise.

This was interesting.

Rubbing the color off with his thumb, Charles cleared his throat and ran a hand through his close cropped hair. “Whatever she offers you, I’ll double.” His voice was gruff.

I didn’t know what to say, but I got the distinct impression that I was caught in the middle of something more than just a competition for my services.

“You still have my card?” he asked as the door cracked open again.

“Charles,” Beth queried with a frown. “Are you still here?”

“Tell her this isn’t over.” He glanced over Beth’s head. “I’ll see her in Miami.”

“I don’t think…” Beth trailed off as he walked away with a dismissive wave over his shoulder. Her lips flattened, but her expression was neutral when she turned back to me. She opened the door more widely. “Come in. She’ll see you now.”

The huge suite dwarfed the standard hotel room War and I shared. It was huge with a large sitting area in front of floor to ceiling windows featuring a gorgeous view of the Bay Lake. Mary sat on the middle of a beige sofa with her spine straight and her shoulders back.

“Have a seat.” She gestured to the orange egg chair beside her.

As she shuffled through a stack of papers on the oval coffee table, I was surprised to see her hands were shaking. An aftereffect of her encounter with Charles Morris? No doubt the man was a force to be reckoned with. But I got the distinct impression that Mary Timmons usually got what she wanted.

She smoothed her short brown hair into place and I heard the door clicked closed behind Beth. All business now, the exec leveled me with a serious stare. “I want to let you know up front Black Cat is interested in signing you.” She tapped a finger against the manila file. “But there are a couple of things that came up on your background check that concerned me.”

“Oh?” I raised a brow.

“After graduation, you moved in with a man named Martin Skellin. Is that correct?”

I nodded.

“The man was a convicted drug dealer.” Mary tossed the file on the table. “I don’t know if you were aware, but he was murdered last week. Shot in the back of the head, execution style.”

I inhaled sharply. I hadn’t known, but I wasn’t surprised. Martin had been skating on thin ice with the higher ups long before I’d left him. I gave the news of his death about ten seconds of my time, less than two of those feeling bad about it. “That’s awful, but I don’t know how that’s relevant to me.”

“People are often measured by the company they keep.”

“Guilt by association. Great.” My hands balled into fists. “Look, Martin Skellin was an asshole. He knocked me around. I left him when he tried to pimp me out to pay off some debt. My time with him is not something I’m proud of, but who he was or what he did, have nothing to do with me.”

“I understand you’re engaged to Warren now?” She glanced at my left hand. “Isn’t that a little sudden?”

I shifted, uncomfortable under this cross examination. I felt a fine sheen of perspiration break out on my upper lip. “Not really. War and I have known each other for years. Why all this interest in my love life?”

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I was beginning to feel really uneasy. I wished now I had taken War up on his offer to come with me. He’d warned me Mary was a hard ass. He had been way underselling it.

“It takes a strong personality to go solo. I need to be sure you’ve got what it takes to handle it. There will be no boyfriends or fiancées to hold your hand.

“I realize that.” I straightened. “I can take care of myself. I have been for a long time now.”

“Yes. I know all about your childhood. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like for you.” Mary’s eyes softened. She stood and pulled the bottom hem of her suit jacket down. “I can certainly sympathize, and I admire your resilience, Lace, really, I do. But I have my concerns.” She moved to the windows. “You’re untrained. You’re young, and you’re inexperienced. But more than that,” she turned back around, her brow furrowed. “I’m concerned about your judgment. I’ve heard about all the partying you’ve been doing on this tour.”

I gulped and looked down at my ankle boots. I was sunk. The woman didn’t miss a thing.

“All that said I’m still willing to offer you a signing bonus of thirty thousand. I just need your word that drugs won’t be an issue.”

I nodded, telling myself it wasn’t a lie, not really. I was quitting. Drugs wouldn’t be an issue for me anymore.

“Good. I can assure you that Mr. Morris wouldn’t match that much upfront.”

My head snapped up.

“Don’t look so surprised. I know all about what Morris has been up to.” Mary tapped her fingers against her folded arm. “I think it was very shortsighted of him to try to lure Warren and Bryan out of Tempest.”

“What do you mean?” My eyes narrowed in confusion. “I was under the impression that Morris’ offer included all the guys.”

“No.” She shook her head. “Zenith’s deal was very personnel specific. Morris is an unrepentant disassembler. He likes to take things apart and put them back together in a way he thinks is best.”

I put my hands over my churning stomach as the reality of it sank in. War had been planning to sell out the rest of the group. Just like he’d done to me in Seattle. This was what Bryan had wanted me to know. I wished he had just told me himself.

It was obvious why War had kept this bit of damning information from me. It was a real manipulative move on his part, an obvious attempt to tie me to him, proposing to me the same night he’d just brokered that sleazy backroom deal with Morris, Did he honestly think I would overlook the betrayal of my brother or King and Sager just because he put a ring on my finger?

Bryan was right. War had changed. And if he thought I would turn a blind eye to all this, well he didn’t know me any better than I knew him.

“I put an end to it,” Mary continued oblivious to the fact that my world had just been turned upside down. “Morris has assured me he’s withdrawing his offer.” She sat on the couch again and leaned forward. “But back to you. I know what Zenith has offered you is high, but I know you’re smart enough to see through all those dollar signs. His offer is back end loaded and full of stipulations. Basically, if you don’t meet them you get nothing. The most likely scenario is that you end up owing Zenith money.”

“Read this over.” She handed me a piece of paper. “My offer is very simple.” She slid a check across the table toward me. “A thirty thousand dollar advance on a three year exclusive contract with Black Cat. Do things our way, Lace, and I think there’s a good chance that you’ll be a star.”

I picked up the check and stared at it. Mary’s signature was a wide sprawl on both it and the contract. She was right about the Zenith deal. It was pages long and full of tons of legal mumbo jumbo. My vision tunneled in on this moment. There really wasn’t a choice. My mind was still reeling from what I’d just found out about War, but I was sure of this decision. I needed to do this. It was a chance for me to finally turn my life around.

I picked up the pen and signed.

The rest of our meeting passed in a blur. Mary shook my clammy hand. Beth came back in and congratulated me and before I knew it, I was on my way back down the hall, in the elevator to my floor, and in front of the door to my room.

I inserted the key card and went inside, grateful that the room was empty. I didn’t feel up to a confrontation with War at the moment. I leaned back against the door. The air conditioning felt too cold against my feverish skin. I recognized what was going on now. It wasn’t Bryan or Mary. It wasn’t the flu. I was having withdrawal symptoms from the heroin. I’d had bouts like this before when I’d tried to quit, but never quite this bad.

I just needed one more little dose to get me over this hump.

Just enough to get me through today.

After that I was done for real.

I opened the safe and pulled out the small satchel. My hands were shaking so violently, I almost dropped the bag. I stumbled to the bed, sat down on the edge, flicked on the lamp, and unzipped the bag.

24

Back down in the lobby, I stuck out like a bad ink stain in my black jeans, shirt, and boots on the corner edge of a grey suede sectional. A modern sphere mobile spun lazily over my head while I tapped my fingers impatiently against my leg.

Where was she?

She should have been down here twenty minutes ago. I ran my hands across my face and up through my hair. The light sweet scent of vanilla still lingered on them. I wanted her soft curves back in those hands. I wanted my mouth on hers. I wanted to hear that low sound of arousal she made whenever our tongues touched.

I wanted her. Now.

I shifted, gaze flicking to War at the other end of the sectional where he sat talking to Dizzy.

Everything was so fucked up. War was the wrong guy for her. I could finally see that. Sure, I’d once made a promise to him, but this wasn’t high school anymore. And I never promised that I would stand idly by while he let her spin out of control. I had to get Lace to acknowledge what was between us. I was her first and dammit to hell I was going to see to it that I was her last.

“Where is she, man?” I threw up a hand. “Did she text you? It’s not like her to be late.”

“I dunno.” War shrugged, glanced down at his phone, and then looked over as King and Sager burst out laughing. “What’s so funny?” he asked.

“King’s response to this cop who was hassling him when we were at that truck stop in Richmond,” Sager replied with a smirk. “I recorded it and put it on our YouTube channel. Come over. You guys need to see this.”

War, Dizzy, and I moved over to the chairs where Sager and King were sprawled. We leaned in over the laptop and King scrolled up the volume.

“You been smoking some marijuana?” The cop on the screen asked in a condescending tone.

“Not yet,” King replied with his usual sassy grin.

The cop’s brows rose. “I’m just checking. I don’t know if you knew, but a lot of drug deals go down around here.”

“Really?” King bowed up. “I get my drugs somewhere else.” He folded his arms over his thick chest and stared down at the much shorter uniformed man. “Is this because I’m Hispanic? If you don’t mind, officer, could I have your badge number?”

I watched the cop and King but I zoned out on their conversation as my ears picked up the unmistakable sound of my own raised voice in the background. “I’ll never forget prom and how it was between us.”

Fucking shit.

I glanced nervously at War. Oh yeah, he heard it too. His eyes slid to me, and then back to Sager. “Play that part again, Sager.” He frowned. “And turn it up.”

“War,” I started.

“Just shut the fuck up!” War growled.

My muscles locked tight as the tape replayed. With the volume up, you could hear pretty much the whole incriminating thing. There was a long moment of stunned silence when the clip finished. No one moved and no one spoke. Even the lobby noise seemed to fade away as War and I stared each other down. I felt the dynamic between us shift forever.

“You lying asshole!” War finally shouted his face a furious mask. “How long you been fucking my woman behind my back?”

“It’s not like that…” But I never got the chance to complete that thought. Without warning, War’s fist flashed out and connected with my jaw.

I took a step back, gingerly touching a thumb to the blood on my lip. My gaze narrowed. “I’ll give you that one, but let’s take this somewhere else. I don’t want to talk about this out here.”

“I don’t care what you want.” My guts wrenched. “I trusted you, Bryan. Like a brother.” He shook his head. “Can’t believe you’d do this to me.”

“I love her, man.”

“Don’t we all.” His lips twisted. He turned to Dizzy. “You know about this?”

Dizzy nodded uncomfortably.

“Listen.” I pulled in a calming breath through my nose. Time to get this out. “It was only that one time in high school.” My brows pulled together as my eyes met his. “But I’ve wanted there to be more between us, and you need to know I’ve asked her to choose.” I didn’t tell War that if she chose him that I wasn’t going to quit trying. And I guess that’s what it all came down to. War and me, our friendship, having each other’s backs, that shit always came first with him. Everything and everyone else was a distant second. The Morris deal was proof of that. He didn’t see the conflict I had because there wasn’t one for him. If he were in my place, I knew in my gut that he wouldn’t have any problem walking away from her.

For me it was never that simple.

War’s jaw tightened. “You guys covering for Bullet, too?” His eyes sliced into me before cutting to Sager and King.

“Leave us out of it,” King fired back.

“That’s his plan,” I bit out. “As long as we’re clearing the air, let’s get everything out in the open.” I threw up my hands. “War’s taking an exclusive deal from Zenith. He’s breaking up the band.”

“What the fuck, asshole?” That from King, our large angry Latino drummer’s eyes were flared.

“You’re so full of shit.” I held War’s gaze and gave it to him, the destructive truth pouring out of me like pus from an infected wound. “Acting all self-righteous. Giving us that tired worn out old speech about the band being a priority. None of us are a priority to you, Warren. Not Lace, not me, not the guys. To you we’re all replaceable.”

Suddenly the hair on the back of my neck stood up again. It wasn’t that watched feeling I’d had with Lace earlier. It was more like an icy chill, like cold fingertips running up my spine. I glanced over my shoulder. A couple of paramedics jogged past toward the elevators rolling a stretcher between them.

I turned back to the unfolding scene. Dizzy’s light brown eyes were narrowed with accusation.

“You’re the one who’s replaceable,” King warned, looming over War, Sager at his side. “Pinche guero culero.”

The chill I’d just had suddenly morphed into a horrible premonition the moment I heard Dizzy’s cell phone buzz.

Dizzy’s expression transformed from puzzlement to shock as he fielded the call. Then suddenly, without a word, he broke for the bank of elevators at a flat out run.

My veins flooded with ice water. I bolted after him. I caught him at the elevator, jumping in just as the doors closed.

Face pale, Dizzy looked at me. “Those guys that just went by are for Lace. Beth found her in her room. His eyes began to tear up. “Bryan, she isn’t breathing.”

25

A low humming sound hovered around the edges of my consciousness while a diffuse bright light up ahead propelled me forward. As I followed it, the light coalesced into rays of sunlight streaming through the trees.

“Lace,” his deep familiar voice called.

I blinked, dragging my eyes away from the fresh tilled dirt and craned my neck around to look at him. Hands in the front pocket of his dark jeans, wind blowing his hair into his grey green eyes, he shuffled forward. “War’s looking for you.”

I shrugged, disinterested, returning my attention to the grave marker in front of me. My hands balled into fists.

How dare that bitch die on me.

Without saying anything, he dropped down to the ground beside me. He didn’t ask if he could join me and I wasn’t about to tell him he couldn’t. I needed him. More than anyone else. War hadn’t known what to say to me. I could tell he was worried, but he didn’t really understand.

My mother’s death had totally shaken me. Not because she’d overdosed, but because she was gone. My anger toward her had fueled my fervor to succeed. Now that she wasn’t here, how was I going to prove her wrong? Show her that I was worth something.

We sat silently together. I could hear the steady hum of the traffic from the nearby freeway. I continued to stare blankly at my mother’s name on the tombstone. His warm hand covered my own. Nothing in my entire life felt more right than that hand on mine.

“Did you ever go back to University House to see her?” Bryan’s soft question broke the silence.

“Once,” I admitted, with a sigh. “She didn’t even know who I was.”

“I’m sorry, Lace.” He squeezed my hand.

“Don’t be. I knew how she was. I was stupid to think she would ever change. You ever try to see your father?”

“No. Last I saw of him was in middle school. Good riddance if you ask me.”

I nodded. Having a shitty parent was a bond we shared. “She can rot in hell for all I care.”

“You’re not her, Lace Lowell,” he surprised me by saying.

“No, I’m not,” I agreed. “I’m getting out of here. I’m going to make something out of my life.”

“I know you will.” Bryan’s voice resonated with sincerity. His faith in me had never wavered. “You ever hear back from the counselor about your scholarship application to U of W?”

I shook my head. “That’s a long shot. They have over two thousand applicants for that one spot.” I pulled my hand free, smoothing both palms over my jeans as he continued to watch me. “Anyway, it only covered books and tuition, not living expenses.”

“Your uncle hasn’t changed his mind about you staying on after you graduate?”

“No. He’s getting remarried and his fiancée has kids of her own. They’re gonna have a full house as it is.”

“You could stay with us.”

My eyebrows lifted, I gave him a measured look. “I don’t think that would be such a good idea, do you?”

“I guess not.”

We both got quiet. Something way beyond friendship had been building between us lately that neither one of us was ready to address.

I pulled my knees up and dropped my chin to them. I could feel him watching me. “I’m not going to cry for her,” I whispered.

“I don’t expect you to.”

“I lost track of how many times she told me I was a burden to her. Mostly she ignored me. But there were a few times, usually when she was really wasted that she would let me crawl into her lap.” I pressed my lips together. “She’d stroke my back and sing to me.”

I risked a glance at him. He returned my look, the light of empathy shining in those beautiful eyes.

“It’s those few times with my old man that were really good that made me hate him. It’s so unexpected. It almost felt like a betrayal.”

I looked away, nodding. That’s exactly how I’d felt with her. “Why didn’t she love me, Bry?” That was it really, the part that bothered me the most about her passing. She might have been the world’s worst mother, but there was a part of me, a part that I despised, that still longed for her approval.

His arms went around me. His chin rested on the top of my head. I leaned back into him, my throat constricting so tightly it burned like fire.

“If only we could choose our parents, huh.” He kissed the top of my head and my knotted muscles loosened. “She was your mom, Lace,” he said softly. “But she was a wretched human being. She didn’t deserve someone as wonderful as you.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The incessant buzzing sound in my ears grew louder.

Stop.

I wanted to stay back there in that memory.

Safe.

Cherished.

Comforted.

In Bryan’s arms.

The noise in my ears wouldn’t go away, though. It solidified into voices, strong assertive male voices.

“She’s coming around,” one of them said.

26

Hunched over in the uncomfortable plastic ICU chair, I slowly lifted my head from my hands as War returned with a cup of coffee.

“Any news?” he grunted, taking the chair opposite me.

I shook my head. War and I had formed an uneasy truce as we waited. I glanced at the ICU door for the umpteenth time. This had been our basic routine for the past twenty-four hours. Monosyllabic communication punctuated by visits from King and Sager and periodic updates from Dizzy. As a family member, he was the only one actually allowed back there with her.

My stomach was a massive churning burning ball, despite the most recent reassurance from Dizzy that she remained stable. Sure she was, for now…maybe, but what about the next time? Heroin sucked people into the vortex and more often than not, spit them back out in a pine box. I shouldn’t have let it matter whose girl she was. I should have dragged her off that bus right to the nearest rehab facility the moment I’d discovered that she was using.

Should’ve.

Shouldn’t.

Shit.

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, but the memory of that terrifying chaotic scene was something I couldn’t force out of my mind.

Beautiful vibrant Lace.

Gone.

Her body completely still as a corpse.

“Shane, I can’t find a vein. She’s used ‘em all up,” the older paramedic stated in a clipped voice.

“Go for the intraosseous, then,” the other one directed, continuing to breath for her through a tube they’d put down her throat.

I felt as helpless as I’d been as a twelve year old boy when that drug dealer had hurt her. I stood in the doorway and watched them work on her.

Beside me, Dizzy breathed desperate bargains with God.

There was a pop and a crackly sound as they punched a large needle into Lace’s shin bone. Body in shock, muscles tensed tight, and hands fisted, I offered my own silent prayer.

C’mon, Lace.

Suddenly, her body jolted. Her eyes blinked open and her chest rose as she took in a loud shuddering breath that sounded more like a gurgle.

“Narcan’s working,” Shane stated matter of factly. He turned Lace’s head to the side. And then she spewed vomit all over the hotel carpet.

“Glad we had the ET tube in already.” The EMT wiped her face clean and reattached an oxygen bag. Together the two men lifted her onto the stretcher and tightened down the straps. “Let’s get her in.

Shane’s partner nodded and spoke into a receiver tacked to his shoulder, “We have a code three. Heading to the truck. ETA twelve minutes.”

“Stand back,” Shane barked when they reached the door.

I blinked rapidly, my eyes burning as I stared down at hers. They were totally unfocused. She was incoherent and thrashing violently but ineffectively against the restraints.

“Tighten the straps, man,” Shane ordered. “Narcan’s making her agitated.”

As they wheeled her past, Dizzy and I hurried after them. We had to take a different elevator and caught up with them in the lobby. I felt a ton of eyes tracking our progress. By then it registered that War had joined us, looking as freaked as we were.

Out on the circular drive, someone flashed a cell phone camera.

Beth Tate suddenly materialized as if out of thin air. She held up her hands. “No pictures, please. Show a little respect.”

I stood with Dizzy and War as the paramedics loaded Lace into the back of the ambulance.

“I’m her brother.” Dizzy jumped in the moment Shane’s partner clipped the stretcher into place. At the same time, War and I both reached for the handle to climb inside.

“Sorry, guys.” Shane’s partner shook his head. “Only one’s allowed in the back. We’re taking her over to Celebration Health. You can meet us there.”

Shane slammed the ambulance doors shut, and I’d felt like my heart had stopped as we watched the ambulance drive away.

Suddenly, the automatic ICU doors whooshed open.

“The breathing tube is out.” Dizzy gave us a strained smile. “The doctors say she’s gonna be ok. She’s awake. They’re moving her to a private room on the sixth floor.”

I let out a pent up sigh. Finally, I could see her. Talk to her. Touch her.

“She’s asking for you,” Dizzy announced.

Yes. I took a step forward.

“But War,” he continued. “I gotta warn you, she’s totally coherent. She knows all about the Morris deal and she’s pissed.”

Dizzy shot me an apologetic look before he moved off with him. I shoved my hands into my pockets, fingers clenched around the pack of cigarettes that I couldn’t smoke in the hospital. But I wasn’t about to go outside, not until I saw her.

I pressed my lips tight together. Deal with it, I told myself. You just have to wait a little longer.

I stood alone in the empty ICU waiting area that was cold and quiet except for the television droning in the background. I eliminated any other options. I didn’t want to upset her, but we had to talk. I was past done with letting War run the show. His method of “taking care of her” had almost gotten her killed. No way was I going to let them pick right back up where they’d left off.

I strode purposefully to the bank of elevators, raking my hand impatiently through my hair as I waited for it. Fortunately, it was fast. When I reached the sixth floor, the nurses lifted their eyes and threw speculative glances my way. I was quite a sight I’m sure as I clomped past the nursing station like Black Sabbath’s vengeful iron man in my heavy boots and leather pants. I found Dizzy waiting out in the hall outside her room.

“Hold up, Bryan. She’s still talking to War.”

The door was open and I peered over Dizzy’s shoulder. Looking extremely pale and fragile, Lace lay in the hospital bed with an IV pole beside her and her blond hair spread out around her face like a puddle of melted gold.

She didn’t see me. She was totally focused on War. One of her hands was in his. My eyes narrowed to jealous slits as I watched War sift a strand of her hair through his fingers. Lace’s lids drifted closed. Every single muscle in my body tensed. That was my cue. I should have left before it got worse.

But I didn’t.

“No.” Lace’s voice was as raspy as a two pack a day smoker. “But I will.” I watched a tear slide down her cheek and roll into her hair. “Dizzy said you know everything…about Bryan and me.”

Whatever War said in response was too low for me to hear.

“I’m sorry, War.” She nodded. “I’ve made a mess of it all. But I’m alive and for some reason God’s giving me a second chance. I’m going to take that chance and I’m going to do better. I’m tired of the roller coaster I’ve been on. I’m tired of all the lies, especially the ones I’ve been telling myself. I really thought I could quit whenever I decided. I realize now that’s not true.” She closed her eyes. “I had a really long conversation with the hospital social worker before I left the ICU. She asked if the overdose was a suicide attempt.”

“Was it, Lacey?” War asked softly.

“No, of course not.” She shook her head. “Though she helped me see that in a way that’s what I’ve been doing all along with the drugs. The end result is still the same. I know that self-medication is not the answer. I’ve got to face my problems.”

“It’s all my fault,” War admitted his voice deepened. “You being here. I should never have given you the drugs in the first place. I never imagined something like this would happen.”

“Neither of us did.” She reached a hand up and touched War’s face.

“I love you, Lacey.”

“I love you, too, War.”

War leaned his head into her hand. Her declaration sliced through the stitches of hope that had been holding my heart together this past twenty four hours. Rubbing my hand against my chest, I turned away. A dark shroud descended on my thoughts. I forced my feet to move down the hall as my heart turned to stone.

27

“A part of me will always love you.” I slid my hand away from War’s face. Our gazes tangled together for one long last moment. “You’ve been a huge part of my life for so long, Warren Jinkins. But I don’t feel like I really know you anymore.” My fingers twisted in the hospital sheet and I forced myself not to soften, though the regret that was so evident in his familiar features had me wavering. I stared down at the IV in my hand for a couple of monitor beeps before I continued. A clean break was the best for all of us. “You’ve changed, Warren, and not for the better. You’re not the guy I fell in love with.” If I hadn’t been so desperate, so drugged out I probably would have realized that sooner. “That guy didn’t keep secrets from me.”

He frowned. “Lace.” My name sounded like a plea on his lips.

“When were you planning to tell me about the Morris deal?”

“Nothing has been finalized,” he said defensively. “I was just putting out feelers. We’ve all talked about how totally undervalued we are by Black Cat.”

“That’s not what I heard from the others.” My eyes burned. I forced my heart to harden. “It’s really scary to me how quickly you would leave those loyal to you behind.”

“It’s not like that, Lacey.” A tiny flicker of something I hoped was shame flashed in his eyes.

“Bullshit. It’s exactly like that,” I cut in letting go of my anger. “I don’t know how you can stand there and look me in the eye and say that.”

“Because you don’t know everything.” I could see a muscle in his jaw twitching from the tight hold he had on himself. “You need to give me a chance to explain before you push me away. Don’t make the same mistake you did after the offer from RCA. Just like back then, it was never part of the plan to abandon you. If you’d stuck around instead of hooking up with Martin you would’ve found that out and things would’ve turned out differently.”

“That’s ancient history.” So many mistakes by both of us that couldn’t be undone. “Tell me how this time is any different. Now’s your chance. I’m listening.”

He didn’t speak, so I continued. “I’ll tell you then. This time it’s worse. This time there are three people you’re screwing over. There’s only one person you’re really looking out for, War, and that’s yourself.”

“That’s not true. I was looking out for you and Bryan, too.”

I shook my head. He didn’t get it. “War, you go off and do these things, like with RCA and Morris, you make these monumental decisions that will have a drastic effect on people’s lives, and yet you don’t stop to ask for or even to consider their opinion. That’s not normal behavior. That’s manipulative and self-serving.”

“Oh, so now after your near death experience, you’re an expert on psychology.” His face twisted with cruelty. “You accusing me of being manipulative. That’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think, considering you were screwing around on me with my best friend?”

I sucked in a sharp breath. The monitor beeped faster with my increased heart rate. “War.” This time my voice was plaintive.

“I knew he always had a thing for you, Lacey, but fuck, I trusted him, and I trusted you.”

“I know, War.” Tears stung my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He turned his back to me. The line of his shoulders was stiff below the ends of his hair. “How long has it been going on?”

I sighed, but he deserved the truth. “Only the one time and it was me that’s to blame for it.”

His shoulders dropped but when he turned around, I powered on. “But it doesn’t really matter, does it?” My gaze slid from his and I looked out the window, watching slivers of orange peek through the gaps in the metal window blinds. The sun was finally setting on this disastrous day. And it was time to end this relationship that had gone on for far too long. I slid the ring off my finger and held it out to him. “Here. You and I both know this isn’t going to work anymore.”

His expression darkened. He looked away again. “Keep it.” His voice was gruff.

“No.” I shook my head. “Maybe you can get your money back.”

“Yeah.” His gaze sling-shotted back to me. “What about my heart that you’re ripping to shreds?” He took a step closer, eyes unmistakably glassy. “How am I gonna get that back?” His lips flattened. “Lacey, you almost died. I realized a lot of things while you were there in the ICU. Mostly how much you mean to me. I’m sorry about the Morris deal, and the way I handled the RCA thing. But I believe we can get past that if you’ll try. Let’s start again. There’s still time to work things out.”

My bottom lip trembled. This was the sweet side of War. The part of him that had stolen my heart as a teen. “We’re not kids anymore, Warren. It’s too late for do overs.” Warm tears of regret spilled onto my cheeks. What remained of this battered and bruised heart of mine would always belong to another and that wasn’t fair to War. I held out the ring. He reached out and closed my fingers around it.

“Keep it. To remember the good times.” He held my eyes for a moment shared sadness flowing wordlessly between us. He gave me a tight nod of acceptance before leaning down to kiss my forehead, a strand of his hair trailed through the wetness on my cheek as he straightened.

He paused in the doorway for a brief moment. “Goodbye, Lacey,” he whispered finally and disappeared.

When my eyes opened again, the room had fallen into shadow, silent except for the slow quiet beeping of the heart monitor. Scanning the room, I found a familiar figure slumped over in the chair. “Dizzy,” I croaked. My voice was so dry. He shifted, the leather of the lounger groaning beneath his weight, but he continued to snore. I swallowed and tried again. He opened his eyes and blinked the sleep away.

“You ok?” he asked, rising and crossing to my side.

The concern in his amber eyes made me determined to reassure him. “Not yet, but I will be,” I said with forced confidence.

He didn’t speak, but his expression softened and he covered my hand with his own.

“I really screwed up everything, Diz. You were right the other day about my life being out of control. I’ve been living on the edge for a while. It was only a matter of time before I fell off.”

“What are you going to do?”

I took in a fortifying breath. “It’s too deep a hole and too steep a climb to get out of as quickly as I’d like. I’m going to take it one step at a time.” I paused. “First step is rehab.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear that. I couldn’t stand to ever see you like that again. I love you.” He smoothed a hand over my hair. “I wish I had done things differently. When we moved in with Uncle Bruce I thought that you didn’t need protecting anymore. At least that’s what I told myself, so I wouldn’t feel guilty. I never should have …”

“Stop.” I put my hand on his arm. “You protected me when it mattered. Really. The mess I’m in right now is my own.”

His brow creased. “I want to help anyway I can.”

“I appreciate that.” I gave him a tentative smile. “But this is something I have to do for myself and if we’re being honest here I think you’ll admit that you’ve got issues of your own that need sorting through.”

His head lowered. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Mom really screwed us both up good,” I whispered.

28

Arm over my eyes, I lay in my bunk on the bus with the curtain pulled closed. Earbuds in, no music, just static. Endless purposeless white noise just like a life stretched out before me without her in it.

I hadn’t heard War come on board yet. I knew he was probably still out at the hospital with Lace. That’s where I would be if I was him.

I love you.

The sound of her voice saying those words to him instead of me had been going through my brain on an endless loop. Baring my soul to her, exposing the ugly truth about the Morris deal, none of that had changed her mind. I’d always believed deep down that someday we would be together. I’d purposefully kept out of relationships or chosen ones destined to fail, hoping that one day she would be mine.

But now it looked like I was going to have to figure out how to move forward and start to live a real life without her. I turned over on my side and punched the pillow. Suddenly, the curtain on my bunk slid back.

Dizzy poked his spiky head into the gap. “You awake, man?”

“Yeah.” I pulled my earbuds out. “How is she?” I asked even though I knew I had no right, even though I knew I should cut the fucking cord already.

“She’s in a good place, all things considered,” Dizzy whispered. After a glance behind him, he continued. “Listen, why aren’t you answering your cell? She’s been trying to call you. She wants to talk to you before she gets transferred to the rehab facility.”

I shrugged, noncommittally.

“Are you gonna be ok?” Dizzy scratched his head as he studied me.

“Yeah, just too many hours awake I guess.”

“Alright. If you say so.” Dizzy didn’t look entirely convinced. “Here’s the number at the hospital anyway.” He handed me a piece of paper. The number on it was in her handwriting. “Call her, ok? She really wants to talk to you.”

Without waiting for a response, Dizzy slid the curtain back into place and once more I was alone with only my thoughts to torture me. I flipped onto my back and stared without blinking at the silver ceiling of the bus for so long my vision blurred. I wanted to hear that beautiful voice of hers, but what would that accomplish? What was left for her to say? Nothing I wanted to hear, I was sure.

I crumpled the note in my fist and tossed it at my feet.

I stared out the window, watching the sunrise above the clipped hedge that lined the perimeter of Second Chances. Outside I could hear the fountain softly gurgling, but inside a torrent of conflicting emotions raged within me. I’d been able to keep my mind occupied while I filled out reams of admission paperwork, met the staff and been shown to my quarters. But now I was alone, overwhelmed, and adrift. I longed for a shot of something to numb the pain. It would be so much easier to escape into the drugs than to face what lay before me.

Why hadn’t he called? I’d delayed the transfer for over an hour hoping to hear something from him. Anything. A dark wave of emptiness crashed over me, leaving me hollow in its wake. This was even worse than that morning after prom.

Because now wasn’t a backup plan.

There was no one waiting in the wings to help. The one I’d always counted on to catch me when I fell was ominously absent and silent.

And I had no one to blame but myself. I’d pushed him away one too many times. I sank back onto the mattress and lay down on my side, the polyester comforter scratchy against my wet cheek.

This time I was truly on my own.

29

I glared poisoned daggers at War’s back as he walked offstage after our lackluster performance at Miami’s American Airlines Arena. My former best friend and I were no longer on speaking terms. If it wasn’t so pathetically sad, it would almost be comical, the way we communicated now using other people as intermediaries. Though it hadn’t been too much of a problem during the Miami sound check, it had been a big problem during the concert. It was really fucking hard to hit your cues when your lead singer wouldn’t make eye contact.

After the encore, Dizzy had cursed up a storm and stomped off stage with the latest groupie in tow. From their position against the far wall, King and Sager were continuing to cast dubious glances my way as they conversed with a couple of roadies. Watching War with his arms thrown around a couple a women did nothing to improve my foul mood. How could he do that to Lace when he’d just told her he loved her? Apparently two weren’t enough for our Tempest front man either. He crooked his finger to get the attention of a brunette whose blouse was so low cut I could see her nipples.

I took another drag on my cigarette as War started making out with all three of them.

Asshole.

So intent was my focus that I practically jumped out of my skin when I felt someone lay a hand on my arm. My gaze swept over the curvy form of an ebony haired beauty as her black finger nails traced a line to the center of my bare chest.

“Bullet,” she purred. “Don’t you wanna get laid?”

I froze. Sure I did, but not tonight and not by her. I was sick of this fake shit. I might not have Lace, but I wanted something better than that, something real. I looked at the woman again, really looked at her. Behind the outward overtly sexual display, I knew that there was a living breathing person inside, one with feelings. That’s something I couldn’t ignore anymore.

I also noticed that her hand trembled. She definitely had stars in her eyes. She couldn’t be much older than my sister, Miriam, in fact. I’d been carefully avoiding thoughts like these for a long time. But all these women who threw themselves at us had one thing in common.

Hope.

Hope to hook up with someone famous. Hope that they’d be the one to tame one of us. Hope that when we hooked up with them it’d be the start of something beautiful and not just a sex act.

One time, never twice, leave ‘em satisfied, but always leave ‘em.

I couldn’t do that anymore.

The loud sound of a slap had me turning me head just in time to see War disappear inside the temporary dressing room with his trifecta.

Hell, fucking no.

I gently removed the woman’s hand from my arm. “I’m sorry, babe. It’s not you. It’s me. Maybe…” But I trailed off. She’d already turned away and moved to Dizzy before I’d even finished speaking. Appeared she was about to make him a similar proposition. So much for my attempt to save the world one groupie at a time.

The sound of Brutal Strength’s set starting in the background, I skirted around a group of tour personnel and didn’t stop to knock at the door I’d seen War enter. I threw it open so hard it clanged against the cinderblock wall. In spite of that, it took several moments before anyone inside even noticed me.

Leather pants unlaced, legs splayed lazily wide, War sat on a folding chair guzzling whiskey straight from the bottle. The woman kneeling between his legs was going down on him while he watched the other two women going at each other.

One of the girl-girl twosome glanced over at me. “Hmm, Bullet’s here. Come on over, baby.”

War’s head snapped up and he glared at me. “You’re not invited to this party, Jackson.” He took a long swig from the bottle. “Now, get the fuck out!” he shouted at me before pushing the woman’s head back down.

I saw red. Total fire engine red. Siren’s blaring in my ears. The works. I stepped further into the room. “Give us a minute, ladies,” I said cooly, but inside I was on fire, shaking mad.

The woman in front of War, sat back on her heels, wiped her mouth, gave me a confused look, and motioned to the other two to follow her out of the room. As soon as the door closed, I spun around to face War. Our illustrious lead singer re-laced his pants and met me in the center of the room, his own eyes ablaze. “This better be a fucking emergency.”

Furious, I took a step forward and shoved War with both hands.

“What the fuck, man?” War knocked both my hands aside and gave me an equally hard shove back. “You busting in here just to pick a fight with me?” War mockingly crooked the fingers of both hands. “Well, come on, Bullet. Bring it. Though I don’t get you at all, man. It’s me that should wanna beat in your fucking face in for what you did to me.”

All the anger and hurt I felt about Lace choosing him instead of me coalesced into my clenched fist. I reared back and let War have it. There was a satisfying smack as my fist connected with his jaw, sending a shock wave all the way back to my shoulder.

The force of the blow knocked War clear off his feet. His body slammed into the liquor cabinet. Bottles of booze fell like rain off the shelf, crashing onto the concrete floor.

He scrambled to his feet and rubbed his jaw. “You bastard. You’re the one who fucking screwed my woman.” Then he came at me like a blitzing middle linebacker.

I managed to dodge him just as the door flew open and Dizzy, Sager, and King burst into the room. As I was rounding on War, Dizzy stepped between us. King grabbed my arms from behind. Sager did the same to War. I saw the PR chick from Black Cat had followed them into the room. She closed the door behind her.

“Let me go.” I struggled to break free from King’s grasp. The guy was the same height as me but built like a fucking tank. I couldn’t budge him. My gaze flashed back to War. “You don’t fucking deserve her, asshole. She loves you, man. She almost died barely twenty-four hours ago and you’re getting yourself a blow job the minute she’s not around.”

“Used to love me,” War muttered. “She served me walking papers at the hospital.” He shrugged out of Sager’s grasp. “I didn’t start this shit.”

Holy shit. Lace had broken it off with War! And she’d tried to call me before she went into rehab.

I didn’t even notice that King had released me. My mind was still reeling from the implications of that bit of earthshattering news when suddenly War was nose to nose with me. I smelled the fumes on his breath and his face was red and twisted with anger.

“I warned you, brother. Bitches are trouble. But you didn’t listen. And now she’s come between us. Messed us up. Messed up the band.”

“Wasn’t her that did all that. It was you, asshole,” I growled. “You’d sell your own mother if the price was right.”

“Whoa,” Dizzy said. “Easy, guys. Let’s leave the mothers out of it.”

“I can’t believe you.” War shook his head. “You’ve got that bitch up so high on a pedestal you can’t even see her faults.”

The shrill ringing of a cell phone cut through the charged silence that followed the last comment.

“Yes.” Beth eyed us all warily as she answered the call. “I’m here now…No, you were right, Mary. I’ll call you back as soon as I’m done.” She pocketed the cell. Her heels clacked on the concrete as she took a couple of steps forward. Her demeanor was entirely professional. Apparently she was totally unfazed by what she’d just seen. “You guys obviously need a keeper. Mary’s calling in Ian Vandergriff to handle things.”

I cringed. Vandergriff had a reputation industry wide. He was the manager who’d been brought in to straighten out the Dirt Dogs after their lead singer had passed out on stage for the third time in two weeks. I’d heard it had taken less time than that for him to bring them to their knees. The guy was a total hard ass.

Shit.

Beth glanced back and forth between me and War. “Vandergriff’s salary is going to come out of your tour bonuses by the way.”

Great. Just fuckin’ great.

30

Twisting my hands together I sat on my bed and stared out the window at the courtyard, by now a familiar tableau. The soft gurgling of the fountain was the only sedative I had left. No more methadone to keep me company. It had been tapered off days ago.

Just me and my sober self.

Well, and Dr. George. The other rehabbers referred to him harshly as Sawbones. I wasn’t really sure why. The wrinkled old psychiatrist seemed benign with his grey hair and grey beard, his kind eyes and soft tone, like some benevolent grandfather figure.

It wasn’t the session with Sawbones that had my stomach turning summersaults. It was my first mandatory group session, and I wasn’t relishing the thought of laying out all my baggage in front of a bunch of strangers.

A quick glance at the clock had my stomach roiling. Time was up. I took in a careful breath and straightened my shoulders.

You can do this.

I pushed off the bed, stepped into my slippers, crossed the room resolutely, flipped off the light switch, and opened the door.

“Hey,” a musical female voice called out. “Hold up.”

I turned and saw a young woman with long platinum hair locking the door to the room next door to me. She was beaming an infectious double dimpled smile as she walked over. Her smile even put my brother’s illustrious one to shame. Despite my nerves, I found myself grinning back at her.

“I’m Bridget Dubois. I just saw you in the cafeteria the other day. You got in last week, didn’t you?” She didn’t pause to let me answer. She spoke each sentence in rapid fire succession. “You’re coming to the group session, aren’t you? You look a little pale. Don’t be nervous.” A micro-pause. “Really, don’t be.” She glanced at me, white blond eyebrows arching up expectantly. She reminded me of a pixie with her petite frame, her sparkly blue eyes, and her exuberant manner.

“I’m Lace Lowell.” I held out my hand which she took and squeezed once before letting go.

“Nice to meet you, Lace.” She studied my face for a minute before waving for me to follow her down the hall. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to talk the first time if you don’t want to. Believe it or not, I didn’t.” Another dimpled smile. “I think you’ll be surprised. It’s really helped me to know other people have gone through the same stuff that I have.” As we entered the cafeteria together, she continued to jabber while I looked around. The tables had been moved to the side and there was now a circle of plastic chairs near the windows.

I took a seat in the circle beside Bridget and tried to focus on her rather than on the upcoming session. “Why are you here?” I asked quietly.

Her gaze slid away. She stared out the window introspectively before looking back at me. “Usual story.” She shrugged. “I fell in love with the wrong guy. Got pregnant. Family disowned me.” Her light and breezy tone said one thing, but the expression on her face told a different story. This girl had been hurt deeply. There was a lot more to Bridget Dubois than I’d initially thought.

“Lace.” Dr. George took a seat on the other side of me and squeezed my shoulder. “Welcome to the group. We don’t have many rules except that what’s said here remains confidential and that we only speak in generalities about any physical abuse, mental issues, or drug problems. No graphic details here, please. Today’s topic is responsibility. His gaze slid to the brunette across from him. “Brenda, why don’t you start us off?”

I listened to them one after another and started to relax. A lot of the stuff they shared was frighteningly familiar. Bridget was right. Minute by minute, I was feeling less like a freak, less like a loser, and less like a loner to be here.

I could do this.

I made eye contact with Dr. George. He nodded his approval.

“My name’s Lace Lowell,” I began. “I’m addicted to heroin mostly. Although I’ve done some cocaine and other stuff, too. I’m an addict like my mother was. I’ve been using for about two years now. I tried to get my boyfriend to help me taper off, but I realize now that wasn’t going to work out. I’ve got to take responsibility for my own choices or it won’t happen. I’m the one who made the decision to take that first dose, and in the end it’s got to be me who decides not to do anymore.”

I cursed under my breath, ripped out, crumpled up, and tossed another sketch aside. The wadded up ball of paper joined the growing discard pile that looked like white snowballs against the green grass. I was irritated and jumpy. Though my fingers were busy, my mind shifted into reverse. I’d figured out today why Dr. George’s nickname suited him. He had this nasty ability to cut through all his patient’s bullshit like some old time surgeon dispensing with a gangrenous limb.

He’d certainly cut uncomfortably deep in the session with me today.

You need to be self-reliant, Lace. Stop looking for a man to come rescue you every time you get into a bind.

He was right. I pushed my hair back behind my ears and let out a heavy sigh. That was exactly what I’d been doing. First with War, then after that fell apart, with Martin, then War again. And always Bryan held in reserve.

I sucked.

I blinked back the burn of tears as I stared down at the sketchpad on my knees. That pathetic dependence on the men in my life needed to stop. It was a trap, letting someone else’s approval define me. I was the only person who could redefine things.

Sawbones had also made me confront my unresolved feelings toward a father I’d never known. There was definitely a dotted line that connected my lack of a father figure to the lack of judgment I’d used choosing the men in my life.

But worst of all, he had forced me go back to a place today that I’d never wanted to return to…my childhood. He had pushed and prodded until I told him everything. How worthless my mother had made me feel. That I meant less to her than her next high. How still to this day it galled me to have been denied the love of someone I hated so much. The level of vitriol that had spewed out of me had been shocking. I hadn’t realized until that moment just how much anger and resentment I still carried around. The drugs had obviously been my way to cover that all up. Sawbones showed me that I needed to stop repressing and find a healthy way to deal with those emotions.

No more of this bullshit. I needed to let go of the past and wipe the slate clean. And I needed to have a plan for my future. It was up to me and me alone to be the woman I’d once believed in, a woman who despite her shitty mother and lack of a father was strong and capable of doing whatever she set her mind to do. Sure, I’d made mistakes, a shit load of them. I had a lot of owning up to do. But I was ready to make amends. Whether or not the people I’d hurt forgave me was up to them.

Though I knew the hole I’d dug for myself was a deep one, I no longer felt overwhelmed by hopelessness. Getting off the drugs was the first step on the ladder to getting out of that hell. I could see light up there at the top, and that’s where I wanted to go.

I took in a deep calming breath. Seven days. No drugs. A huge accomplishment. It’d seemed like forever since I’d been this clear headed. The first couple of days in rehab had been easy though compared to the last few. The more the methadone dose had been lowered the edgier I became. Sawbones had suggested I start sketching again, but so far, the task had just been an exercise in frustration.

A shadow suddenly fell over me, blocking out the sun. “Hey, Bridget.” I knew who it was without turning around. She had become my constant companion since that first group session. No matter what I tried to do to dissuade her, there was no shaking the irrepressible girl.

“Whatcha doing?” Bridget picked up a ball of paper from the discard pile. “Wow!” she exclaimed after un-crumpling it. “This is really good”

I glanced over at the drawing. The evening gown. The one that reminded me of the dress I’d worn to prom. “It’s ok.” I shrugged. “But the hemline’s not right.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Bridget asked sitting down beside me on the concrete bench.

I reminded myself to be patient. Though she was a bit hyperactive and talked my ear off. She had a good heart. And she’d been extremely supportive of me, even holding a cool washcloth to my head last night when the withdrawal shakes had woken me up. “The hem should probably have a decorative border, maybe eyelet lace. I don’t know.”

Bridget studied the drawing, smoothing it out across her thin tan legs. “I think you’re right. Like that stuff they wore under their dresses in the late fifties. A really cool lime sherbet color might work.”

Actually that would look really great. I reached under the bench and pulled out my colored pencils. I shaded in the color while Bridget watched.

“I told you,” Bridget said with a satisfied nod when I was finished.

I gazed at the golden tanned platinum blonde. I’d been ready to dismiss her idea out of hand. In fact I’d been trying to keep her at arm’s length, as I did with practically everyone else, especially women. Yeah, yeah, I had issues. “You’re into fashion?” I queried.

“Duh, isn’t everyone?” A mischievous grin spread across her face. “I’ve got a stash of In Style magazines in my room. Wanna see?”

“Sure.” I raised my brows, surprised to uncover a rebellious streak in Bridget. I grabbed my stuff and followed her back inside. The Second Chances’ facility was completely closed off from the outside world. No phone. No television. No internet. No contraband magazines.

I sat on the bed beside her while I thumbed through the stack. “These are brand new,” I exclaimed. “How’d you manage that?”

Bridget smiled, two dimples flashing above a mouth of pearly white teeth. “I have all the latest gossip magazines, too.” Apparently, she had leveraged one of the security guards, who had a crush on her. I was just happy to have something to read that wasn’t a dusty old Harlequin novel. Suddenly, I went completely still, my hand resting on his face. Rolling Stone Magazine. “Bigger and Badder than BS” was the headline.

Vaguely, I realized that Bridget had stopped talking. The girl glanced back and forth between the magazine cover and my pale face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I swallowed. No. Not quite, though he still haunted my dreams.

“You know those guys?”

I nodded.

“Holy shit!”

“Don’t get all starry eyed. It’s no big deal. I grew up with them in Seattle that’s all.”

Bridget looked at me with skepticism, taking the magazine and flipping it open to the article. “There’s a picture of you in here.”

I glanced over. Sure enough. It was from the performance in Atlanta. I tried to close the magazine.

Bridget stopped me, her finger on the text, her blue eyes wide. “You and War?” she asked.

“Not anymore.” I shook my head.

“Men are bastards, huh?” Bridget closed it up, crossed her legs, and leaned closer. “Lace, come on. You can tell me. After all, I’m your best friend.”

I stared into the sparkly, but sincere eyes of the woman beside me. Was she? She was definitely the only one.

Bridget held my gaze, nodding as if she could read my thoughts. “You’re prickly, but I like you. I was there when you told your story, remember? You had a crappy childhood, but I’ve never once heard you use it as an excuse. That’s unusual. There’s an inner strength in you. A resolve. You’re gonna make it, Lace Lowell. You’re a winner and I like to be on a winning team.”

My eyes stung from the unexpected praise. I was getting way too sappy in here. “Thanks,” I could hear the thick emotion in my voice. “I don’t really see myself that way. But going back to drugs is not an option for me. They cost me everything that I cared about.” I vividly remembered the disappointment in Bryan’s eyes when he’d seen my tracked up arms.

I sighed heavily.

Bridget patted my hand. “It gets easier.” Her expression sobered, suddenly looking much older than her age. “At least it does in here.” Worry darkened her eyes. “Five more days till I’m done. How much longer for you?”

“Fourteen.”

Bridget mock cringed. “If you ever need anything when you get out, you call me. Promise.”

“I promise.” I smiled. “Teammate.”

31

I nodded to Vandergriff aka the ‘Buzz Buster’ as King had dubbed him. Our band’s new enforcer was built like the Incredible Hulk, his muscles bulging beneath his cheap polyester suit. We had to check in with the guy twice a day, morning and night. He’d traveled with us on the twenty-eight hour bus ride from Miami to Minneapolis and on the four hour flight up to Vancouver, the last stop on the tour. His methods weren’t pleasant, but he’d been successful. Not that I was giving him any trouble. I was just biding my time, holding it together, until I could talk to Lace. The only one of us he hadn’t gotten into line yet was War.

I searched the backstage area, but there was no sign of him. I hoped our lead singer wouldn’t screw up this final concert, but I had an awful feeling that he would. Warren and I hadn’t spoken a word to each other since Miami. Actually, he pretty much wasn’t on speaking terms with anyone in the group. The Morris betrayal had opened up a rift between him and the other guys too. It wasn’t something that would be easily forgotten or forgiven. Not that War was much interested in bridging the gap. If anything, he’d gotten more temperamental, more demanding, and more unpredictable.

Tempest had barely taken the stage on time in Minneapolis because of him. He’d locked himself in a room backstage with a couple of fan girls the roadies had pulled from the audience. Apparently, the usual groupies wouldn’t do for His Highness anymore.

“When was the last time you saw him?” Dizzy asked me as he tightened the strings on his Gibson.

“Not since we landed and he made that big scene about the lukewarm beer in first class.”

“King’s right. The dude’s got it bad.”

“What?” I rolled my shoulders.

“LSD.”

“Shit. You’re kiddin’ me.”

Dizzy barked out a laugh. “LSD. Lead singer’s disease, man. War’s got a real bad case.”

Speaking of the diseased monster, he had finally arrived. War was obviously wasted. His head was slumped to his chest, his arms were draped around two women, and his legs wobbled under him like limp noodles.

I glanced over to see if Vandergriff had noticed. Sure enough, Buzz Buster was already heading straight toward him with a dark look on his face. He dismissed the two girls and had grabbed War as he started to fall forward. War lifted his head, his lips twitching right before he blew chunks all over Buzz Buster’s shiny black dress shoes.

“Bullet. Dizzy,” Buzz Buster cursed. “Come help me with this asshole.”

“We’re screwed,” Dizzy mumbled as we hurried over. “We’ve only got thirty minutes before we’re on.”

“I’m fine,” War insisted, rocking back on his heels. He put his hand on his hip but his attempt to appear belligerent was sabotaged by the fact that he almost fell over again. “Get me my shades!” he yelled at one of the roadies while pulling his black bandana lower over his beer goggled eyes.

“I don’t believe you, man.” I shook my head.

“Yeah, well.” War’s gaze cut to me, his stare surprisingly steady considering the intensity of the alcohol reek emanating from him. “I can’t believe you either, asshole.”

We glared at each other. The undercurrent of restrained violence between us saddened me more than I was willing to admit. Numbly, I nodded when Buzz Buster ordered me to keep an eye on War while he and Dizzy went to round up some Red Bull.

I drug a frustrated hand through my hair. The tour, the group, my friendships, my life, everything was going to hell. Maybe I should try to salvage some of it. “Listen,” I told War, taking a step closer. “I’m sorry. Sorry about busting you in the jaw. Sorry about you and Lace. I know how you must feel.”

“You don’t know anything,” War growled.

“I know what a low tolerance you have for rejection. I was there when your father…”

“Shut up!” War’s shouted eyes narrowed. “I don’t care about that bastard and I don’t give a fuck about that bitch Lace, either.” He spat the words out, a cruel grin twisting his lips. “The only reason I was ever with her was because I enjoyed watching what it did to you.” It appeared to amuse him to see how much his words affected me. “It used to be nice having you trail around after me like a puppy, always ready to do my bidding. But it got old after a while.” He waved his hand in the air. “In fact, all this shit’s gotten old.”

Buzz Buster returned and thrust a Red Bull into War’s hand. “Drink up,” he ordered. “And keep it down.”

War took a long swig and wipes his mouth. “Listen all,” he projected, loudly enough that everyone backstage turned in our direction. “I have a special announcement to make.” He pointed at me. “I’m not working with this mother fucker anymore. I’m quitting after tonight’s show.” He stumbled to the edge of the stage, brushing past Dizzy. “Now let’s get this shit over with.”

I didn’t move. Shock had frozen my feet in place.

32

I stood in the foyer, staring out the glass doors at the circular driveway, waiting for Dizzy to arrive, equal parts trepidation and excitement. I was ready as hell to get out of this place, to see my brother, to watch television, to surf the web, and to wear something besides a Second Chances’ track suit. But I was really worried how I’d handle things out there in the real world…on my own.

After paying the rehab bill, I still had ten thousand left from the signing bonus that Black Cat had given me. But I knew I wasn’t going to keep it. I was planning to give that back and work out some kind of repayment plan for what I’d already spent. I had taken that money under false pretenses. And being a cheat and a liar didn’t sit well with me anymore. Especially not with the person I had set my mind on becoming.

A dark blue sedan with tinted windows pulled up in front of the building. Dizzy jumped out of drivers’ side and jogged around the front of it. I threw open the front doors and dropped my bag just as he lifted me up and twirled me around in a circle.

“Lace,” he said, hugging me so enthusiastically that I could barely breathe.

“Diz,” I wheezed. “Too tight.”

“Sorry.” He loosened his grip and leaned back to look at me. I saw a look of relief pass through those eyes so similar to my own. “You look fantastic, but how are you feeling?”

“It’s not like I had a terminal disease,” I grumbled, though I guess I probably had. Anyway, I knew what he meant. Looking in the mirror this morning I’d seen that my skin and hair had regained their previous luster, my cheeks were attractively fuller, my eyes sparkled with awareness, and the jeans and t-shirt that had been loose when I checked in was actually a little snug now. Getting your life in order and eating three meals a day instead of shooting up will do that to you. “Where’d you get the car?”

“At the airport. We’re staying there tonight. I’ve got us an early flight out in the morning. I can’t believe they wouldn’t discharge you until five.”

“Yeah, well, Sawbones is a stickler for doing things by the book.” In response to his questioning look, I explained. “He’s the psychiatrist who runs the facility. I arrived in the evening twenty-one days ago so that’s when I get released.”

I bent down to get my bag when movement near the car caught my eye. As I straightened I saw him. He was leaning back against the hood of the sedan. His black shirt sleeves were rolled up, his arms folded over his chest, and his long legs were spread out in front of him. He was the last person I expected to see, but a welcome sight nonetheless. When he hadn’t gotten in touch with me before I’d been admitted, I’d assumed he’d finally written me off, just like everybody else.

His lips formed a seductive grin. “Lace,” he drawled in that special way of his, and the world tilted a little beneath my feet.

“Bryan,” I managed to reply even though my voice was noticeably breathy.

For several moments he held my gaze. Something in my eyes must have given me away because he sauntered toward me all swagger and verve.

I held onto the pretense of being unaffected by him until he leaned in and the warmth from his breath tickled my ear. “You look gorgeous.”

My stomach fluttered. “I’m surprised to see you here,” I admitted, trying to recover my equilibrium, always a struggle around him. “You didn’t return any of my phone calls. I thought you’d given up on me.”

“I thought the same about you.” He leaned back to looked at me, his tone filled with regret. “I’m sorry. I only overheard part of your conversation with War at the hospital. I bailed when you said you loved him. I understand from Dizzy that I should have stuck around for the rest. I wish I had called you. It’s been hell waiting.”

“Hey, are you guys gonna stand out here all day and stare at each other?” Dizzy raised an amused brow. “Or are you ready to go?”

I pursed my lips.

Bryan just laughed.

Mesmerized by the crinkles around his eyes, I just stood there, blinking up at him. It’d been a long time since I’d seen him look so happy, or that my own heart had felt so light. But then again Bryan always could make me feel that way.

Reluctantly, I released my fingers from his arm and climbed into the passenger seat. There was so much more I wanted to ask him. So much I wanted to believe his presence here meant. The chain from his belt loop jingled as he slid into the back. Our eyes met in the mirror. A heavy expectant vibe zapped across the space between us.

Was this finally going to be the beginning for us?

During the thirty minute drive to the airport, I felt Bryan’s heated gaze on me. My body prickled with awareness. To keep my mind off the predatory male lounging in the backseat, I tried to make small talk with Dizzy. My jaw dropped when he told me about War quitting the band.

“You’re kidding?” I shook my head, but I wasn’t going to feel guilty. That’s a burden the old Lace would’ve taken on. What War did was his own damn business. “What are you guys going to do?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Bryan answered without a pause as if they had this rehearsed. “Diz and I were hoping you would consider…”

“No.” I thought it best to put the cabash on that idea right away. “I’ve decided to leave that part of my life behind.”

“Why?” my brother asked his brow knitted together in confusion. “You’re so good at it, Lace.”

“And you have a contract with Black Cat,” Bryan added.

“I did a lot of thinking about it these past three weeks. That kind of lifestyle is too much of a temptation for an addictive personality like mine. Besides, I realized that being part of a group was what I really loved most about music, and I can get that in other ways. The singing, going solo, that was War’s idea. It’s not really what I want. I’ve decided to go back to school. Study fashion design. I’ve started sketching again.” I shrugged. “It makes me happy.”

Both guys were silent as that blitz of information settled. As Dizzy steered the sedan through the tollbooth, Bryan broke the silence. “Whatever you want to do, Lace, I know you’ll be good at it.”

A surge of emotion clogged my throat. His approval meant that much to me. I gave him a long look that said I-want-to-climb-into-the-back-seat-with-you-and-lick-your-neck. I think he got it because he returned my look and one up’ed me with a sexy smile.

We dropped the rental off and took the shuttle back to the airport. After we checked into the Hyatt Regency inside the terminal, Dizzy suggested we grab a bite to eat together at the steakhouse. I eagerly nodded my agreement. The cafeteria in rehab had been ok, but I was ready for some real food. Dizzy went on ahead to get us a table.

The instant we were alone, Bryan grabbed my arm. His warm calloused fingertips traced a path to my palm that made me shiver. “Eat fast,” he said softly, his piercing grey green eyes glittering intently into mine. “You’re coming to my room after. There are things to be said that can’t wait.”

I nodded mutely; a sudden case of nerves unsettled my empty stomach. I ordered a steak, but was iffy about it now. Bryan and I sat opposite each other at the table. I listened disinterestedly while he and Dizzy went through a list of possible replacements for War. As long as I avoided direct eye contact with Bryan, I was able to continue interacting on a reasonable level. The one time I’d slipped up, the sensual look he had given me had made my entire body tremble with anticipation.

Lucky for me, by the time the food arrived, my nerves were somewhat under control and my appetite had returned. I did an admirable job on the steak and resisted desserts. Right now only one thing was tempting me, anyway.

“Hey, man,” Bryan said to Dizzy when the check finally came, “Lace and I need to talk.”

Dizzy gaze flicked to me. I saw the trepidation in his eyes, and I understood it. I had reservations myself. Not about whether or not to go with Bryan. That was as inevitable as the coming sunrise. No, it was the uncertainty about what might happen afterward that worried me. Surely he would understand though. After all this was Bryan. Not War.

“I’ve got my own keycard,” I told my brother hoping that would reassure him. “I’ll come to our room later.”

“Diz.” Bryan leaned an elbow on the table. “It’s ok. I’ll take good care of her.” His voice was low and deep and I totally got that there was more than just a promise to Dizzy in those words. Imagining just what type of things taking care of me might involve made my mouth dry and my heart rate accelerate.

My brother paid the bill and gave me a hug before I left the table with Bryan. I looked back at him. For a brief moment, I wavered. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

“Lace.” Bryan took my hand and my uncertainty dissolved. I wanted him and he wanted me. The rest was just details.

Holding hands, we made our way to the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, Bryan’s warm hands settled low on my back, right above the curve of my bottom and he slid me close, positioning me in just the right place. Instant hot desire hummed through my veins, and I knew I was lost. He and I were a foregone conclusion that had been on the back burner for years. It was time to turn the heat up to high. I placed my hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin and the staccato rhythm of his heartbeat through the thin material of his button down shirt. I wrapped my arms around his neck and tilted my face up to his. Anticipation flooded my body as his mouth lowered to mine.

33

I watched her lids close, golden lashes fanning over her blushed cheeks. Her surrender made me feel powerful yet humbled at the same time. Her fingers tangling in the hair at the back of my neck turned me on more than I could stand.

“Bry.” She breathed my name like a plea. A plea to take and possess her which was what I had every intention of doing.

I slanted my mouth across hers, plunging my tongue into the loose seam between her sweet lips. A raging fire burned inside of me as soon as I got my first taste. Her mouth was salty from the steak, minty from the Tic Tacs she had handed out after dinner, and hot as fucking hell.

Her moan made me realize my tactical error immediately. Taking her mouth wasn’t going to be enough, and I couldn’t do all the things I wanted to do to her in this elevator. “Lace.” I lifted my head and her dazed eyes fluttered open. Her lips were wet and swollen, and her breath was shallow. A primal surge of satisfaction swept through me. I put my hands on either side of her head and pinned her sexy body between my arms. “Just so we’re clear. You’re mine now. No one’s ever coming between us ever again.”

“Yes, Bry,” she agreed, lids low as she peered back at me. The passion that simmered in her beautiful eyes made me want to rip her clothes off right then, elevator cameras be damned.

Good thing the door slid open at that moment. I went completely cave man, threw her over my shoulder, and stalked to the room.

She giggled.

I fucking loved the sound of it. It’d been too long since I’d heard her laugh. I stopped in front of the door.

“Put me down,” she said sounding all out of breath.

“Hell, fucking no.” I slid the key card out of my front pocket. “I’m the one giving the orders tonight, babe.”

Door opened, I carried her to the king bed and tossed her in the middle, right on top of the beige comforter. She pulled herself up on her elbows, her lips parting watching me as I took off my shirt. While I removed my boots and socks, she sat up and lifted her shirt over her head. “Next time I get to do that,” I told her.

“Ok.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, lips spreading into a playful smile.

My eyes devoured her. She was by far the sexiest woman I’d ever seen. The creamy slopes of her breasts spilled out of her purple bra, the nipples just barely concealed by the lacy edge. She lowered her head and gave me a flirty come ‘take me’ look. Hell, yeah. I was hard as a rock. I’d never been more ready in my life.

I unbuckled my belt and started to unbutton my jeans but she reached out and covered my hand.

“Let me.” Her voice was husky as she stared up at me. She’d been so young our first time, a little hesitant. Not now. Now she was all woman and she was all mine.

Finally.

I nodded.

Her hair slid forward as she lowered her head and spread apart the button fly on my jeans. I moved things along by pulling my boxers and jeans off together. My breath caught when her soft hand closed around my erection. My dick jumped in her hand.

Fucking hell.

I pulled her up, pushed her back on the bed, and slammed my mouth down on hers with a growl. I wanted to be inside her…now. That voice inside my head that had been telling me to take it slow, I told to shut the fuck up. I was done with preliminaries.

I thrust my tongue deep into her mouth giving it to her a little rough. Apparently she liked that just fine because she started to writhe beneath me. Her jeans needed to come off though. Chest heaving, I drew back, unbuttoned, unzipped, and ripped them down.

I’d been telling myself for years that my memory had exaggerated her perfection. Not so much. She was my every fantasy made real. “Fuck you’re gorgeous.” I framed her face in my hands. “I never stopped loving you. I need you to know that.”

Her fingers ghosted across my lips, settling over my mouth like a soft kiss. “Stop looking so serious. I love you too.” She smiled. “I’ve always loved you.”

I felt the force of her words deep in my soul, the cure to the restlessness that had plagued me since I’d given her up as a teen.

34

I stared at this handsome man watching as his cautious veneer fell away right before my eyes. The love shining out of his eyes was like a bright beacon that I was helpless to resist…not that I had ever wanted to, not really.

So many wrongs in my life. Had I finally gotten something right?

I pulled his head back down to me. I could feel his grin against my lips right before his tongue dipped inside and slid slowly across mine. My body became a hot whirlwind of sensation as we took turns tasting each other. The heavy weight of him crushed my breasts, and the hard length of him pressed between my thighs, feminine and masculine, two opposing puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together.

I traced across the breadth of his shoulders with my palms and raced down the indentation of his spine with my fingertips before grabbing his ass in my hands and undulating against him. “Bry,” I moaned. I was on fire, burning up everywhere our skin touched. I’d never been more turned on in my life.

He gave me a wicked smile before he began to do wicked things to me with his mouth. With long languid licks he teased me, his tongue sliding across my skin up and over and near, but never touching the nipples that ached to receive the same attention.

My heels dug into the mattress and my head thrashed back and forth. My hair would be a mess of tangles when we were through. Desire roared hot in my veins. And then his mouth closed over my nipple. I arched completely off the bed, silently begging him to take me deeper, whimpering when I felt his teeth and tongue graze repeatedly over the sensitized tip.

As if he had all the time in the world, he thoroughly explored every inch of my breasts with restrained nips that jolted through me like lightening and light soothing strokes that prolonged the pleasure. I felt worshiped and was in a sensual high as I watched him through my lashes, praising him by panting his name.

I started to protest when he lifted his head, but stopped when his hands started to move exactly where I most wanted him to go. I felt his warm approving gaze on me right before he touched me. Delicate shivers wracked me as his skilled fingers glided lightly across my fevered skin. I moaned when he skimmed his palm over my throbbing wet center. His touch was just a tease as soft as a breath but it still made my body flush with heat.

“That’s it, babe.” He stared down at me with lids heavy and gorgeous eyes darkened with passion. “So sexy. So beautiful.” He increased the pressure rocking his palm back and forth over me.

“Bryan,” I begged breathlessly, pulsing beneath him.

“Don’t hold back, Lace. I want to see you come for me first, and then I promise I’ll give you more.”

While he watched, so possessive, so attentive to my need, I came fast and I came hard. This man owned me, and my body surrendered to him as readily as my heart had done.

Before the glow of my climax had dimmed, he slid deep inside me, a hot brand marking me as his. He had me caged within his arms, and as he had promised, he gave me more, more than I had bargained for, and more than I had dreamed. I began to burn, this time even hotter than before, as he moved in a practiced rhythm that was insanely deep and impossible hard, perfect friction rubbing against my sensitized flesh. His heavy breath lifted the hair from my temples, and the slap of his hips against mine became an erotic tune that ended just moments later as we shouted each other’s name in unison.

35

After the haze of sensual bliss cleared, reality reasserted its claim. I padded into the bathroom to take a quick shower. When I returned, Bryan was propped up on his elbow, still naked and in the bed, the sheet draped casually around his waist. He was distracting as hell with his hair tousled and all that exposed skin over tight muscles. I was totally into him, and he knew it. His amused eyes gleamed back at me beneath his lowered lids.

My heart constricted as if he’d squeezed it in the palm of his hand.

Bryan Jackson was the perfect man for me in every way, the standard to which no other man could possibly measure up. The second night I’d spent with him only made me more certain of that fact. With Bryan making love was a two way exchange, a gift we gave to each other, the physical expression of our love for one other. We’d only just finished and I already wanted to do it again.

Badly.

I inhaled deeply and offered him a tentative smile instead.

He studied me a minute and his forehead creased. “What’s wrong?” he asked warily. “What’s going on inside that beautiful head of yours?”

I couldn’t fool him. There was no use trying. I sat on the edge of the bed, my back to him, gathering my thoughts as I knotted the bathrobe sash tighter around my waist. “It’s time to talk.”

“I agree.” His voice was deep and certain, and he scooted in behind me, his legs stretched out on either side. That felt really good. He was so warm. He moved my hair off my neck and kissed the spot where my neck met my shoulder. A shiver ran down my spine. He turned me around and arranged me on his lap. He gazed into my eyes and I realized I’d never seen him look so serious. “I want you to move in with me when we get back to Seattle.”

My heart leapt in the air. Shit. I hadn’t been expecting that. I closed my eyes and covered my face with my hands, so he couldn’t see how much I wanted to say yes. To be with Bryan twenty-four seven, to wake up every morning looking into those gorgeous grey green eyes, to go to bed with him every night, it would be awesome.

“That sounds wonderful.” I sighed, dropping my hands and opening my eyes to find him staring at me expectantly. “I really want to, but I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t?” I felt his leg muscles tense beneath me. “The way I see it, we should have done this years ago. Maybe if we had…”

“Don’t. Regret is a dead end,” I said sadly. “One of the things they taught us in rehab is to use the lessons of the past as fuel for the future.” I ran my hand down the side of his stubbled cheek and trailed a finger under the black leather cord with the silver skull bead that he wore around his neck. I stared into his eyes, willing him to understand. But his guard was up again and it made me sad to see that. “Bry,” I tried to explain. “You went from being my best friend in high school to being my lover, and even if things hadn’t gone all wrong for us, I don’t think I would have been ready to handle something like that. I’m still not.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” He set me aside sharply and made a sweeping gesture with his arm indicating the bed. “Were you not just there with me? You know as well as I do what we did was a whole helluva lot more than just two people getting each other off. It’s always been more with you and me.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Are you saying that this was a mistake?”

I shook my head.

“Good.” He gave a curt nod. “Cause it’s not prom night anymore, Lace. Let me lay it all out this time just so there’s no chance for misunderstanding. I love you. I want you with me all the time. Don’t make it more complicated than that.”

“I’m not trying to.” I put my hand on his arm, but he shook it off. My throat tightened as I watched him go for his pants, yanking them back on. I pulled the lapels of the robe closer together, suddenly feeling cold. “Bry, please try to understand.”

He turned back around, his eyes flashing defensively.

“I love you, too,” I powered on. “But you’d have to be blind not to see what a wretched mess my life is right now. I need to get things straight first…before I get into a relationship with anyone.”

“I’m not just some random guy you hooked up with, Lace.”

Shit. I started to panic. That wasn’t how I meant it at all. He was taking everything I said and turning it inside out. “I know that…God, I know that.” I was finding it difficult to breathe. This was going even worse than I’d feared.

He must’ve noticed how freaked out I was. He moved back to the bed and knelt in front of me, his expression softening. “I know this is scary, Lace.” His voice was gentler and his eyes searched my face before he covered the two of my clutched hands with his own. “All the more reason for us to be together, so I can help you.”

I shook my head. “No, Bryan. I can’t let you do that.” If only I could explain it so he’d understand. “I can’t keep jumping from relationship to relationship every time I need a rescue. I’ve got to learn how to take care of myself for a change. It’s going to take work to become a better person, and that’s work that only I can do.” I glanced up at him hoping that I’d finally gotten through, but my heart stuttered when I saw how completely closed off to me he was.

“So you’re telling me you want me to put my life on hold again. To be on standby. To wait.”

Yes. “Yes.” I held my breath as I waited for his reply.

“How long do you estimate this process of yours is gonna take?” His voice was a really low rumble.

“I don’t know. Just until I prove to myself that I can do it, I guess.”

His jaw was rigid. An oppressive silence filled the room. I heard the air conditioner kick on, felt the cold air against the back of my neck, icy trepidation trickling down my spine. “I’ve waited through two guys for you. Look where that got you. Bad shit happens when we’re apart. We’ve both lost out on precious time that we should have spent together. And now that there’s nothing else in our way, you want to put up this wall between us? No, Lace,” he said firmly. “I’ve done all the waiting I’m gonna do.” I could see the anger and pain in his piercing gaze. “You decide. It’s got to be yes or no, right now.”

My heart froze completely solid. My chin dropped to my chest. A cold fist tightened around my throat. “No, then,” I whispered.

He didn’t say anything and that said it all. When I looked up, he was scooping his shirt off the floor.

Stop, my heart cried.

Please don’t go, my eyes pleaded.

But his face was an impenetrable fortress now. “Goodbye, Lace.” His words detonated inside of me like a bomb blast.

36

For a long time I didn’t move at all. So long that my rigid muscles went from tense to burning pins and needles to completely numb. But eventually I had to feel the pain. After all, Bryan had just blown my world to bits. And suddenly the realization of it all crashed down on me.

Totally obliterated, my heart lay scattered like shrapnel all around me. Big sobbing shudders shook my body as I looked at the tangled sheets, as I breathed in the lingering scent of his cologne, as I tasted him in my mouth along with the salt from my tears, as I heard the sound of his goodbye ringing in my ears, as I opened and closed my fingers remembering when I’d held him in my hands.

I jerked up out of the bed and turned my back on it. I sank to the floor, pulled my knees up to my chest, and wrapped my arms around my knees. I rocked back and forth, staring straight ahead, tears blurring my vision.

But there was nothing to ease the pain.

For a fleeting moment, I seriously considered getting up, getting dressed, and going out for some drugs. But if I went down that path again I knew there’d be no coming back from it a second time. I’d end up in the ground just like my mother.

My arms tightened around my knees. No fucking way. I steeled myself and stuck a fork in that chapter of my life. It was done. Over.

I was never descending into that pit again.

I’d have my cry. I was fucking entitled to that. It’d been a long time since I had so I was going to make it a good one. I felt sorry for myself and all that shit.

When the sun came up, my throat was raw, my eyes burned, and my Kleenex box was empty. I got up off the floor. I had to use the bed as a crutch because my legs had cramped up so bad. But I wasn’t going to allow myself to linger in that sad place. I was time to be tough. Resilient. I went into the bathroom and got myself cleaned up. I washed and conditioned my hair. I scrubbed twice with the fragrant hotel soap and scoured the traces of his scent from my skin.

I stepped out onto the bathmat and wrapped a towel around me. Pulling the hand towel out of the ring, I wiped away the condensation from the mirror. I stared at the pink faced woman who looked back at me. Her eyes were red rimmed but determined.

I liked her.

She was a keeper.

She was sick and tired of life knocking her the fuck down.

Things were going to be different from here on out.

This woman was going to start fighting the fuck back.

37

I pounded on my brother’s door with my fist.

“Hold up. I’m coming.” I heard his muffled reply through the door before he opened it. “What the hell!” he exclaimed when he saw me. “What’d you do to your hair?”

“Cut it, obviously,” I threw back as I brushed past him to enter the room.

“What’s going on, Lace?” he asked when I turned around. “Where’s Bryan?”

“I don’t know.” I blinked back the burn and avoided looking at him. I sank on the mattress and smoothed out the wrinkles in the comforter. “I asked him to wait for me. To give me some time to get my head sorted out. He didn’t like that plan.”

“Damn. I’m sorry.” Dizzy dropped down on the bed and glanced at me, eyes filled with questions I didn’t really have the answers for. Not yet at least. I was working on that.

The haircut was symbolic. The long feminine locks were gone, lopped off. Out with the old, in with the new was my motto going forward. From now on it was just me and my retro 1960’s Twiggy hairdo that practically screamed, “This chick can make it on her own!”

There is one thing I know, I thought as I ran my hand over the ear length strands it was going to take some time to get used to. “I’m not going back to Seattle.” There were just too many memories there.

“Kinda late to be deciding that.” Dizzy looked at his watch. “Our plane leaves in a couple of hours.”

“I already paid the change fee.”

“Where you gonna go then?”

“Vancouver. I have some unfinished business at Black Cat. Things I need to make right. I think it’s probably as good a place as any to start over.”

“Ok.” The lines between his eyes smoothed out. “No reason for me to go back then, either. I’ll come with you.”

I laid my head on his shoulder and let out a breath. “Diz, I have to do this on my own. Anyway what about the band?”

“What band? No War, remember?”

“Still. The rest of the guys are in Seattle and they need you there.”

He nodded while his eyes searched mine. “You’re sure about this?”

It was my turn to nod.

“Alright.” He exhaled. “But you’re not alone. I’ll be just a phone call away.”

He put his hand on mine. “I’m you’re big brother. I know I have problems of my own, but we’re family. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He held me back by the shoulders and his lips formed an encouraging smile. “I know you can do this, Lace. If any of us can bounce back from all this shit, it’ll be you.”

38

I dropped into the leather chair outside her office again, my designated spot the past three Monday afternoons in a row. I flipped through the magazine selection. I’d read them all by now. I started in on an Us that I practically had memorized. I glanced over at her secretary. “You let her know I’m here?”

She nodded and went back to typing at her computer.

“Ok. Thanks.” I looked out the window at the impossible blue sky and lonely cargo ship floating in the bay. My mind zoned out as I prepared for a long wait.

“Ms. Lowell?”

My mind snapped into focus

“Ms. Timmons will see you now.”

Finally.

The secretary held open the door for me and I entered, getting my first look at the inner sanctum of Black Cat’s CEO. Pretty impressive. The huge corner suite filled with dark, ornate furnishings felt very old world. Outside the windows, English Bay played the role of moat for Mary Timmons’ castle.

Hopefully the Queen wasn’t about to send me to the gallows.

The brunette sat at her throne, intimidating as ever, with her hands steepled together in front of her while she stared at me.

I took a seat in one of the chairs and stared right back at her across the imposing desk. The new Lace, the one who had cheated death, didn’t take shit from anyone. After all what could this lady really do to me? I didn’t need anything from her.

I slid the bulky envelope out of the inside pocket of my pea coat and placed it on the desk in front of her.

“That’s the cash from the signing bonus, less the 20K for rehab. But I intend to pay every penny back.” My fingers gripped the inflexible wood armrests on my chair. “I took that money under false pretenses. That doesn’t gel with who I am now or at least with the person I intend to become. So I wanted to offer you an apology.”

Looking astonished, her gaze flicked to the envelope and then back to me. Ok, admittedly I began to squirm just a bit. She hadn’t said a word yet. The woman had the intimidation routine down to a scary ass science. I could definitely learn a few things from her.

Head tilting slightly to the side, Mary leaned back in her chair, still every inch in control of this meeting. But I sensed a subtle softening in her manner. Or then again maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part.

“You’re done with the drugs, then?” she asked bluntly.

I was a bit surprised by this question. That she would even ask, I mean why would she believe me? I’d lied to her before. But I owed her the truth. “It was a real struggle at first, but it’s gotten easier.” The drugs had been an escape from an out of control life, and now that my life was going where I wanted it to, I didn’t crave them anymore…not as much anyway. “Three weeks sober,” I said proudly. “Six if you count rehab.”

“I would definitely count it.”

What was her deal? I’d given her the money back. Why wasn’t she saying anything about that? Underneath the weight of that steely stare of hers, I found myself rambling. “It’ll take me a while to pay back the rest. I mean, I didn’t realize how much everything costs up here in Canada.” My waitress salary didn’t go very far. It barely paid the bills. If Dizzy hadn’t insisted on paying for my first year, I don’t think I’d ever have been able to save up enough to attend fashion school.

“You’re living here in Vancouver?”

“Yes. I need a fresh start and I don’t want to be back in Seattle where I might be tempted to fall back in with my old crowd.”

“Lace Lowell.” A regal brow rose. “You impress me.”

Really?

“It’s been a long time since anyone’s done that,” she said softly, reaching for the envelope. She opened up a drawer and tossed it inside without checking the contents. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’ll come into the studio ten to three Monday through Friday. I want you doing some studio vocals. You’ll work with our voice coach. Then…”

“I can’t,” I interrupted.

“Pardon me.”

“I can’t.” I repeated despite the glare that said, “Off with her head.” I’d better make my case before any blood got spilled. “I waitress in the day, and I’m taking night classes at the Centre.”

Her eyes narrowed in surprise. “The Blanche MacDonald Centre?”

I nodded. “I’m working on a degree in design.”

“What about your contract, Lace?”

“If I’m not mistaken, I voided that with the drug use.” I sat up a little straighter. “Frankly, I thought you’d be glad to be rid of me. Lost cause and all.”

“I thought you told me your dream was to be a singer. Was that another misrepresentation, too?”

“No. That’s what I said. I just think fashion’s the better choice for me.” I sighed, wondering where she was going with this.

Her lips flattened and her fingers steepled together again. “The better choice or the safer choice?” Her eyes held mine in a tight grip.

Damn. This woman was perceptive as shit. Neither Bryan nor my brother, who knew me extremely well, had asked me that. “Music has always been my first love,” I said without hesitation. “But…”

“No buts.” She stopped me with a precision hand slice. “The way I see it, there’s no reason you can’t do both.” My eyes widened while she kept on talking. “They might even mesh really well together. Image is such a big part of the music business. I’m sure you realize that quite a few entertainers have their own fashion lines.”

That would be so cool.

“You’ll have to quit the waitressing, obviously. Unless you’re in love with that career path, too?”

I glanced up. Was she teasing me? Mary Timmons? I shook my head.

“That was a rhetorical question. I’m glad to know you’re on board with my plan.” She picked up her cell, sliding her fingers quickly across the screen. “Beth…No. I wasn’t calling about the Tempest thing. I haven’t made a decision about that yet.”

Whoosh. At just the mention, my memory hauled ass right back to that night in Orlando. I felt the familiar ache in my chest. The sutures on my heart were holding so far, but the prognosis was still day to day. I missed Bry constantly.

What good was a new life without him to share it with?

I let out a weary sigh, refocusing on Mary’s phone conversation.

“Yes. She’s here in my office now. I’m sending her right over. Take her to HR. I’m bringing her on as a part time employee.” Her eyes hit mine. “Four hours a day ok with you? Twenty thousand for the first six months.”

Heck yeah, I’d take it.

Numbly, I nodded. There was no way in hell I could even come close to that amount working for tips. Mary spun her chair away. Thinking I’d been dismissed, I started to stand. She swiveled back, holding up a finger. “One more thing, Lace.”

“Yes.” I gulped, my stomach doing a little nauseating side shimmy.

“Where are you staying?’

“A hostel on Pender Street.”

Mary frowned. “That’s not a very good part of town.” That was a total understatement. The place made the Avenue look like Disneyworld. She opened up her desk drawer, pulled out a couple of business cards, and handed them to me. “One of those is for a driver I keep on call. The other is for the manager at Sutton Place. I don’t want you wasting what little free time you’re going to have on public transportation, and I want you sleeping in a safe place.”

“Ok,” I managed, trying to take it all in.

“You’ll like the Sutton. It’s convenient and in a nice neighborhood only a couple of blocks from your school.” My deer in the headlights look must’ve registered with her. Her face softened.

Why hadn’t I ever noticed how beautiful she was before?

“I’m not going to sugar coat it. Working out this schedule is going to be a challenge, but one I think you can handle.” She shook her head. “I’ve seen a lot in this business, but I’ve never seen anyone quite like you. Showing up at my office three weeks in a row (so she had known) shows you have courage and mental toughness. Bringing the money back and owning up to your mistakes demonstrates integrity on your part.” She stood and held out her hand. I grasped it. “You have talent, too. I’m really looking forward to seeing what you do next.”

39

Holding the guitar by the neck, I slammed it into the wall, grunting with satisfaction when it splintered apart in my hands. Letting go where it joined the body, I watched it drop to the carpet, ruined like my life without her.

I’ve done all the waiting I’m gonna do.

What an arrogant ass I’d been.

I swiped my beer off the table and sagged into the chair. I drained it, settled back, and closed my eyes. Alone with my thoughts, and they were all of her.

What was she doing? And who was she with?

I felt completely empty without her, a brittle burned out husk. It was all wrong. Nothing made sense anymore.

“Bry? Are you ok? I heard a noise.”

“Yeah, Mom.” I turned to see her stick her head into the doorway to the garage which I had converted into a studio. “Is it alright if I come in?”

“Sure.” I ran a hand through my hair. “You don’t have to ask. This is your house. I bought it for you. I just put the studio in so I had somewhere to practice whenever I’m around.”

“I know.” She pulled out a chair and sat beside me. Concerned eyes flicked to the broken guitar before they scanned my face. “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t.”

“Bryan Hunter Jackson. I’m your mother. That’s not an option.” Her hands went to her hips. “I want to know when you’re planning to stop moping around and take charge of your life again.”

I didn’t respond because I knew she was right.

She scooted her chair closer, smoothing out the apron she wore over her scrubs. She must’ve just gotten home from work. Her hand dropped down on top of mine. “What are you going to do about Warren?”

“What can I do, Mom?”

“You’ve been friends a long time.”

“I know.” For all his faults, I couldn’t just turn off how I felt. I was worried about him. It was like missing a limb not to have him around anymore. “I tried to smooth things over before he quit the band. When War shuts you out though, you’re out. He’s very black and white about things. You’re either with him or you’re against him.”

“Hmm.” She folded her hands under her chin and looked thoughtful. I had a feeling where she was going before she spoke, and I wasn’t wrong. “Do you remember what I told you when you first got back from Orlando?”

“I remember,” I whispered, thinking she was going to reiterate all the reasons that ending things with Lace made sense. In my mind those reasons still had some merit, but in my heart it felt all fucked up.

“I’m afraid that maybe I gave you some bad advice.”

Surprise widened my eyes as I looked at her.

A frown creased her brow. “I think I’ve let my history with your father color my judgment. So many times he made promises. So many times he broke them. But I kept taking him back, hoping each time that things would be different.”

“I know.”

“I saw that same pattern developing between you and Lace. I’m afraid you love her too much and that she’ll hurt you like your dad hurt me.” Her voice caught.

“He hurt all of us,” I admitted softly.

She nodded.

“Lace isn’t like him.”

“I don’t know that for sure. But I realize now that’s not for me to decide. That’s up to you.”

I was silent for a moment, letting that sink in.

“I told you once that sometimes love means letting go. Maybe that was just my old bitterness welling up. I was trying to protect you, Bryan, when I should have been encouraging you to make your own decisions and live your own life. Take risks even.”

My mom was right. Damn right. Lace was worth the risk. My pride had blinded me from seeing that. I should have admired her strength and how brave it was of her to want to prove herself before we moved forward together.

Instead all I saw was that she was rejecting the glass slipper without even trying it on. Rejecting me. Putting up one more barrier between us. Anger made me throw the past back in her face. Selfishness kept me from agreeing to what was best for her. And sheer stupidity caused me to walk away from the only woman who had ever really mattered to me.

I put my arm around my mom’s shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “The two of you are a lot alike. Both so beautiful. Both so resilient.”

She smiled softly and laid her palm against my cheek. I covered her hand with my own. “I love you, son.” Tears sparkled in her eyes as she looked at me. “You’re a good man. You’ll figure it out. And whatever you decide, I’m behind you.”

40

I heard the haunting acoustic melody as soon as I passed Black Cat’s reception desk on my way in to work. I walked a little faster, trying to balance the backpack on my shoulder and my coffee without spilling it. The somber sound compelled me forward directly toward its source.

In studio six, I found him. His auburn head lifted. Gorgeous emerald eyes that I felt certain I’d seen before stared into mine. Comprehension dawned. No doubt about it. This was Avery’s twin. The physical similarities were striking.

My heart rate kicked into a higher gear as he gazed curiously back at me. He was really good looking if you were into beautifully handsome men, like Michelangelo’s David. Dark and dangerous were more my speed, but I shouldn’t go there. I clamped my mind shut to keep his memory out.

“Don’t stop on my account.” I stepped into the small ten by twelve room. My eyes slid to his guitar with the hummingbird pick guard. “That’s a nice guitar. Really sweet tone. And you play it very well.”

“Thanks.” He slid off his stool with a grin, full lips around a flash of white teeth. “Justin Jones.” He held out his hand.

Duh, I thought, dropping my backpack and moving my coffee to my left hand so I could take it. “Lace Lowell.” I returned his infectious grin, his callouses rough against my skin as our hands touched. If I hadn’t already heard him play, that alone would have clued me into the fact that Avery’s brother wasn’t a casual musician. “We’ve both got the alliteration thing going on with our names, haven’t we?” I laughed.

“Yeah.” He leaned his head to the side as if he was intrigued by me. Well, I sure as hell was intrigued by him. It was really strange. As quickly as I’d taken a dislike to her, I found him to be inexplicably affable.

“Oh, you’re both already here. Good.” Beth, the congenial PR woman for Black Cat, and Mary’s closest confidante as I’d come to realize after only a week around the studio, entered the room and insinuated herself between us. “Mary wants you to work together for a while. She feels that your voices and music sensibilities are compatible.” She handed me some sheet music. “Today she wants you to focus on some covers. Just basic stuff. Dalton will be here after lunch to record, and we’ll go from there. Sound good?”

We both nodded. I turned back to Justin as soon as she was gone. He was looking over my shoulder. Way too close.

“’Roadside,’ huh? Not too bad.”

I took a step away from him. Better get this out of the way. He seemed like a nice guy, but I wasn’t going there. Not with him. Not with anybody else. Not ever again.

Deep inhale.

“Listen, Justin. I’m really looking forward to working with you, but I just need you to know that I’m not interested in anything else, ok?”

He didn’t say anything for a minute. His eyes scanned my face. “Bad breakup?”

I snorted. “Breakup would imply there had been an actual relationship in the first place.” I’d tried for a lighthearted tone, but the ‘feeling sorry for myself tears’ were stinging my eyes. “There’s just a guy that I’m never going to get over, you know?”

“No worries. I promise not to think of you as an entrée if you promise to think of me as a friend.”

I grinned. “I can totally do that.” I’d been so lonely up here in Vancouver. Without the guys, without my brother… I even missed Bridget’s nonstop chatter.

By the end of the second week, Justin and I had already cranked out a half dozen original songs. We were productive in the studio, and enjoyed each other’s company. Like me Justin didn’t seem to be interested in serious relationships. Though I couldn’t help but notice that he had a lot of one-nighters. Anywhere we went women would come on to him and slip him their phone numbers.

We fell into an easy pattern of hanging out together whenever we had free time. Justin was staying at the Sutton also, and I discovered that he felt just as isolated in Vancouver as I did. His sister lived in an apartment near the waterfront, just far enough away to be inconvenient for day to day visiting. Plus she had a busy schedule, thank God. His dad was living on Vancouver Island with his soon to be in-laws.

I shared most of my story with him. We had the common background with substance abuse and appointed ourselves each other’s accountability partners. Since our personalities were a lot alike I wasn’t sure if that was a plus or a minus. We both liked to shop. He was really into men’s fashion. If it hadn’t been for the aforementioned one nighters, I might seriously have wondered which way JJ swung, if you know what I mean.

The only thing I kept from him was the nitty gritty details about Bryan. Those I held tightly to myself. Though the way Justin looked at me, when I got myself tangled up again in the past, when I didn’t want to do anything but sit in my room, and when I just wanted to stare at the wall and remember, made me wonder just how much more he knew about me and Bryan than he let on.

Today, we’d finished up another song and were in the break room at Black Cat, negotiating our afternoon plans. Justin had his hip leaning against the counter in front of me while I stirred creamer into my coffee.

“Mintage Vintage,” I insisted, my voice a little whiny. “We did Armani Exchange yesterday. Speaking of that…” I bit my lip. Maybe I shouldn’t mention it. Justin already gave me a lot of grief about jogging alone. But yesterday at the Exchange, I’d gotten a feeling that someone was watching me. The hair had stood up at the back of my neck and everything.

“What?” Justin prompted.

“Nothing,” I mumbled. What could he do? It was just a feeling after all. I’d never actually seen anyone. It was probably just my imagination.

“You don’t look like it’s nothing.” He suddenly stopped, his face brightening with a huge smile. “Avery.”

I spun around just in time to catch her disapproving frown.

“I thought you were visiting Dad. When did you get back in town?”

“Today.” Avery looked back and forth between the two of us. Her expression was as tight as that stick up her ass. “Can I talk to you for a minute, in private?” she asked her brother.

He nodded, following her out into the hall. Even though I couldn’t make out what they were saying I didn’t need to be a genius to figure out that it was about me. And knowing Miss Perfect, I could imagine that it wasn’t complimentary.

When Justin came back in, he was alone. His expression was as cloudy as Vancouver during a rain.

“Where’d she go?” I asked looking over his shoulder.

“To work on some solo material.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, something I knew he did when irritated.

I quirked a brow. “She thinks I might be a bad influence on you.”

“I told her more like the other way around,” he confirmed. “She’s just being overprotective.”

“Oh.” I put my hand on his arm. “Don’t worry about it. She and I just don’t get along.” I peered up at him through my lashes. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think your sister’s a stuck up bitch.”

“Hmm,” he murmured in response. “Why do I get the idea that you and Avery are a cat fight just waiting to happen?”

41

I squinted at my cell. It lay like a cobra on the beige couch beside me, ready to strike. I needed to make the call, but imagining the reception I was likely to receive had me recoiling.

I’d been putting this off for weeks. He would probably hang up on me. And if he didn’t there was likely to be some yelling. It wasn’t going to be easy to atone for past mistakes with him.

A big sigh.

Past time to get it over with.

I selected his number and hit send.

He picked up on the first ring. “Lacey?” His voice was as smooth as it’d ever been but there was a hard edge to it that he’d never used with me before.

Well, at least he wasn’t shouting. Not yet. “How are you?” I swallowed nervously.

“I’m fuckin’ great” A loud sigh on his end. “What do you want?”

Ok, not yelling, but close. I’d better get right to it. “I want to apologize, War. I really messed up with us, with you, and with Bryan.” I stumbled on his name. I never said it out loud anymore. Ever. I pulled on my running shoes and went jogging whenever I found myself even starting to think about him.

What was he doing? Who was he doing it with?

I ran a lot.

War didn’t respond. I could hear him breathing through the phone.

“I’m sorry. That’s all I called to say really. Except for one other thing.” I bit my lip. “Warren, you and Bryan are best friends. You need him. He needs you. You need each other.”

“He put you up to this?”

“No.” My chest burned. “I haven’t seen or heard from him in five weeks.” A short pause. I couldn’t stop myself from asking. “Have you?” My voice squeaked desperately.

“No.” A pause on his side. I could hear music in the background, and a female voice speaking in Spanish.

“Where are you?”

“I gotta go, Lacey.”

Dead air in my ear.

I didn’t miss that he hadn’t accepted my apology.

My cell rang at two in the morning. It quit before I could locate it. I stumbled back to the bedroom and crawled back under the covers.

Just as it started again.

Shit. Shit.

I found it this time, between the cushions of the couch. It must have fallen in there earlier after I’d called War. I redialed the missed call.

“Hello.” I recognized the musical voice right away.

“Bridget? Is everything ok?”

“Everything’s fine.”

Very few things are fine at two a.m. “What’s going on?”

“Listen Lace,” Bridget sniffed. “Could…would it be ok if Carter and I come and stay with you for a little bit?” I remembered Carter was her five year old son.

“Sure,” I told her without hesitation. “But I’m in Canada now. Do you have a passport?”

“Yes.” Another sniff.

I heard a boy’s voice. “Mommy, why are you crying?”

“I need to go now. I’ll call you back when I have the flight information. And Lace?”

“Yeah?”

Thanks. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“No problem. That’s what best friends are for.”

42

Dizzy and I sat in the club chairs waiting for Lace.

I saw her silhouette as she passed by the gold framed lobby windows. Finally. My heart began to pound hard against my ribs. I couldn’t wait to be close to her again, maybe very close if things went the way I hoped.

She breezed into the marble foyer and stopped in front of the table that always held a large vase of fresh cut flowers. She wasn’t alone. She was with him. Again. My rapid heart rate screeched to a sudden stop. My gut twisted into a tight knot. I had wanted to give her the time she needed to regain her confidence before making my move. But maybe I had waited too long.

Dizzy jumped up and flew across the room to greet her. I’d spilled my guts out to him weeks ago before leaving for Vancouver. I’d told him the way I felt about her, and what I was planning to do. He’d been cautiously supportive of my decision, but he hadn’t given me any indication how I would be received by her today.

I held back, hands in my jean pockets almost shaking with the control it took not to grab her, throw her over my shoulder and just run off with her. I watched the brother and sister reunion. She looked good. Fantastic in fact. Cheeks glowing and rosy from the cold, wearing the same vintage pea coat she’d worn on the tour. The short hair still gave me pause. But I could see that the style was actually extremely flattering. The waifish cut emphasized her beautiful amber eyes which had always captivated me.

Hell, all of her captivated me.

Those eyes widened as she spotted me. Her gaze locked with mine and her face drained of color. The guy at her side that I’d momentarily forgotten seemed to sense her distress and moved closer and glanced in my direction.

Justin Jones. Avery’s twin.

Fuck me.

I was getting a taste of my own medicine I guess. At least Marcus Anthony wasn’t around to gloat. For once in my life, I empathized with the dude. But just as I’d seen him do with Avery, I was going to do whatever it took to get Lace back.

I gave Justin the ‘you better move away from my woman or I’ll take you out in the back alley and work you over,’ return glare.

He raised an auburn brow. I’d seen Avery do that same thing when something amused her.

I sauntered toward Lace, wedging myself between them.

Amuse yourself with a view of my backside motherfucker. That’s all you’ll be getting. You can’t have her.

“Bry,” she breathed. The sound of her voice had the usual effect, only worse because it’d been so long. Too long. I wanted to close my eyes and fill my lungs with her addictive sweet vanilla scent.

“Lace.” I put my hand on her arm instead. I had to touch her. I needed to feel her warmth. Her skin against mine.

She swallowed. “What are you doing here?”

I heard the trembling uncertainty in her voice.

“Mary flew all of us up for a meeting,” Dizzy quickly explained, his eyes flicking briefly to me.

Good save Dizzy. I shot him back a grateful look. Damn, I needed a cigarette bad right now, but I’d been trying to quit. I’d actually been in town for two weeks, getting my plans together. And keeping an eye on her. Stalking would be too strong a word, but I pretty much knew her routine by now. I’d thought she might have even spotted me once at the Armani Exchange, but if she had, she gave no indication now.

“Oh, I thought…” Disappointment dimmed the light of expectation in her expression. Her response gave me a boost of hope.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to everyone?” Justin asked from behind me.

This dude was pissing me off. I wanted him g.o.n.e. I turned to him, my eyes narrowing, but Dizzy got in between us. He offered him a civilized hand shake, averting a full blown conflict. While the two of them played nice, I zeroed in on Lace, moved closer, using that voice on her, the tone that always made her eyes darken. “I need to talk to you.”

It worked again. Her pupils dilated and she licked her lips. “Alright,” she whispered.

Thank, God. All my plans hinged on her agreement. The hands had been dealt. My heart was the ante. It was time to lay my cards on the table. I touched her shoulder and felt her body vibrate beneath my palm. “I have some things I have to do first, but I’ll meet you here around six, ok?”

She nodded.

“Dizzy,” I called. “Got everything you need?”

“Right here.” He patted his coat pocket discretely.

“Good, thanks.” I shifted back to her, tracing her smooth cheek with my thumb. She shivered. “I’ll see you tonight.”

I watched him leave the building with that easy saunter of his. I trembled with the control it took not to chase after him.

What was going on?

What was he up to?

Why the delay? What was going to happen at six?

I turned to Dizzy, the questions on my lips.

“Uh-uh,” my brother shook his head, reading my expression. “I’m sworn to secrecy.” He hugged me. “Don’t look so worried.”

I drew back and took in a deep breath.

“He’s the one.” Justin hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “The guy you said you’d never get over.”

I’d forgotten that he was even there.

“Looks to me like the feeling’s entirely mutual.”

“I hope so,” I sighed.

He smiled and kissed my cheek. “Call me later.”

“Alright.” I managed a small smile of my own before turning back to Dizzy. “That all your luggage?”

He nodded. “Just that and my guitar.”

“Ok.” We weren’t going to need a bellhop. “I’m on this side.” I gestured to the left. He grabbed his bags and started to follow me down the corridor. We passed the tiny gift shop and I led him to a narrow hallway that had just two small elevators. “How are King and Sager doing?” I asked trying to make small talk. I needed a distraction. What I really wanted to do was grill him about Bryan.

“They’re good,” he replied as we rode up. “Usual K&S routine on the plane ride, both of them cutting up and trying to get a cell number from the first class flight attendant. Without Bryan to help me keep them in line it was tough.”

“What?” I asked, my brows furrowing. “You said you all came up together.”

“Oops.” He gave me a sheepish smile.

I let him off the hook until I had him inside the apartment. “Dizzy Lowell.” I put my hands on my hips, confronting him. “You tell me right now. What the hell is going on?”

He set down his cases and pulled an embossed vellum envelope out of his jacket pocket. It had my name scrawled on the front in Bryan’s handwriting. “He’ll tell you himself in a couple of hours.”

43

I clutched the invitation in my hands and looked down at my formal gown. The light pink silk dress was a 1965 vintage Oleg Cassini, strapless and gathered in an elegant rhinestone encrusted bow beneath my breasts. It was a real find, very Jackie O. The dress and shoes had been delivered to my apartment moments after Dizzy and I had entered.

My palms were sweaty as I waited in the lobby for him to pick me up. I didn’t know what to expect tonight. The invitation just said dinner and dancing and was signed, “Love, Bryan.”

Oh yeah, I read a lot into that salutation and was mulling over the possibilities when the limo pulled into the front circle past the clipped topiaries with their twinkling white light adornments. Keeping with the sixties theme, the car was a 1968 cream colored Mercedes Benz.

Wow. This was quite the elaborate set up.

I pulled the matching silk wrap around my shoulder. It didn’t do much to ward off the damp, chilly Vancouver night air but it gave me something to do with my hands. My legs were another story. My heels felt as shaky and fragile as glass slippers as I walked out to meet him.

A uniformed driver popped out of the vehicle and scurried to open the back door for me. I thanked him as I ducked in, expecting to see Bryan, disappointed to discover that he wasn’t there.

The driver folded himself into the front, and tipped his cap to me in the rearview mirror. “Mr. Jackson said to tell you that you look beautiful.”

I smirked. I couldn’t help it. How could he know that?

“He also said to tell you that he’s waiting for you at the restaurant. It’s only a short drive from here.”

I nodded my head, settled into the seat and tried to relax. I looked out the window as he drove. The lights of downtown sparkled in the light evening mist. I noticed we were driving downhill toward the waterfront.

After just a ten minute drive, the driver pulled up in front of a tall glass building, turned off the engine, and came around to open the door for me. He waited as I smoothed out the ankle length skirt before offering me his arm.

“I’m to escort you to him,” he explained.

We rode the elevator up to the thirty-fifth floor in silence. I found myself more and more curious as to what was coming next. When the door slid open, I gasped. I didn’t even remember stepping off the elevator or the driver leaving. I just stood there in complete awe.

The restaurant was deserted, but all around me candles flickered atop tables draped in white linen and sprinkled with red rose petals. Out the windows and beyond the waterfront, the lights of West Vancouver sparkled elegantly in the distance.

The invitation, the gown, the car, and now this. I was overwhelmed with the emotions that swirled around inside of me. He’d gone to an awful lot of trouble. No one had ever done anything so special for me. Tears filled my eyes, and then he stepped out before me.

“When a Man Loves a Woman” began to play over the sound system, but my blurry eyes, my heart, my soul were all focused on him. He’d never looked so handsome or so serious. His hair was un-gelled, the longer strands resting against his forehead. A tuxedo black jacket hugged his broad shoulders, a white shirt and black silk tie underneath. Black trousers moved fluidly against his thighs as he walked toward me his hand outstretched, his grey green eyes beckoning with deep emotion.

“You look wonderful, Lace.”

I put my hand in his, a surge of warmth blushing my cheeks as soon as we touched. He led me out to the middle of the dance floor. I moved into his arms, inhaling deeply, my senses flooded with the familiar spicy scent of him. I licked my suddenly dry lips.

His presence, his hands on my bare skin, the strength of his shoulders beneath my fingertips, the evening, the way I felt about him, all of it, made me sway a bit as if I were a little tipsy.

I drew in a shaky breath and gazed up at him. His eyes were heavy lidded, his face drawn tight with desire I was sure matched my own.

He closed in. I didn’t resist.

The time for caution was over. This man had me from the moment he’d made that first silly face when I was five. I’d only gotten a tiny glimpse of his tender heart back then, but it had been more than enough to completely rock my world. He was the constant in my life, my irresistible refrain. I could no more keep myself from needing, wanting, or returning to him than I could keep myself from breathing.

It was always going to be him.

Our bodies brushed together, hard against soft, the silk of my dress rustling between us. I felt a shudder run through him. His warm hands made me shiver as they slid down my arms and came to rest in the small of my back.

His eyes burned into mine as he held me close. “Lace, I made a huge mistake in Orlando.” His voice was deep and thick with regret. “I should have been supportive instead of putting pressure on you by throwing down an ultimatum like that.”

I held onto his forearms to steady myself just as I’d done that day on the beach when he’d first kissed me. My head was spinning as if I’d just gotten off the tilt a whirl ride. “What exactly are you saying?” I whispered.

He blew out a ragged breath. “I had it all planned out, but I’m finding it really difficult to think straight, let alone make the kind of speech you deserve when I’ve got you in my arms like this.” He took a step back, not much, about an inch, but enough that I suddenly felt bereft without the delicious warmth of his body pressed against me.

He reached in his jacket pocket and I held my breath, eyes filling instantly when I saw what he held.

“Oh my God.” My wide eyes met his. “Is that what I think it is?”

He nodded.

The ribbon I’d worn around my neck on prom night.

I stared at him in dazed wonder.

“Lace Lowell, I love you. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, and I want you to know that I’ve always had faith in you, even when you lost your way. I know that you’re no weak minded princess in need of a rescue, and that’s ok because I’m no prince. It’s really me who needs the rescue, from a life that means absolutely nothing to me if you’re not in it.” His hands moved softly through my hair and his eyes traced over my features as if he was committing them to memory.

“What I believe in most is the two of us. We’re better than any fairy tale. And if you want me to wait for a day, or a month, or a year for you, until you’re ready for us to begin our life together, I’ll do it. But just like I’ve been doing for the past several weeks, I’m gonna do it right up here in Vancouver where I can watch over you.” His eyes blazed with intensity. “You know me. I protect what’s mine.”

Holy shit.

I didn’t say that out loud. Hello. I have much more princess class than that.

I didn’t need any more time to think it over. He was right. I could take care of myself. I knew that now. That impediment to our being together was out of the way. And I didn’t need…

Fairy god mothers,

or enchanted coaches,

or even glass slippers.

I just needed him.

Bryan.

His faith in me was all the magic I would ever need.

“I’m ready now, Bry.” I took the ribbon from him, pulled it taut in both my hands, held it across my neck, and turned around. Bowing my head, I offered him the loose ends to tie.

I felt him breathe my name across my neck. I felt his rough finger tips tremble as they brushed across my bare skin. I felt the cool silk ribbon tighten as he fastened it around me. And I felt his lips drop a soft kiss on the tender skin between my neck and shoulder after his task was complete.

Bryan turned me around to face him. His dark possessive gaze swept warmth over me before his lips claimed mine in a deep hot wet kiss.

Bleep. The sound of an incoming text.

“I think that’s your phone,” I whispered breathlessly as he rained passionate kisses up and down the column of my throat.

“Mmm,” he groaned without pausing from his tender assault on my fevered skin. “Forget it. Tonight’s just for us.” He pulled me closer, slid the cell from his pocket, and tossed it on a nearby table without reading the message.

The End

COMING SOON

Book 2

(Estimated release date - April 2014)

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HEROIN FACTS PROVIDED BY THE NATIONAL INSTITUTE ON DRUG ABUSE

Heroin is an opioid drug that is synthesized from morphine, a naturally occurring substance extracted from the seed pod of the Asian opium poppy plant. Heroin usually appears as a white or brown powder or as a black sticky substance, known as “black tar heroin.”

In 2011, 4.2 million Americans aged 12 or older (or 1.6 percent) had used heroin at least once in their lives. It is estimated that about 23 percent of individuals who use heroin become dependent on it.

HOW IS HEROIN USED?

Heroin can be injected, inhaled by snorting or sniffing, or smoked. All three routes of administration deliver the drug to the brain very rapidly, which contributes to its health risks and to its high risk for addiction, which is a chronic relapsing disease caused by changes in the brain and characterized by uncontrollable drug-seeking no matter the consequences.

HOW DOES HEROIN AFFECT THE BRAIN?

When it enters the brain, heroin is converted back into morphine, which binds to molecules on cells known as opioid receptors. These receptors are located in many areas of the brain (and in the body), especially those involved in the perception of pain and in reward. Opioid receptors are also located in the brain stem, which controls automatic processes critical for life, such as blood pressure, arousal, and respiration. Heroin overdoses frequently involve a suppression of breathing, which can be fatal.

After an intravenous injection of heroin, users report feeling a surge of euphoria (“rush”) accompanied by dry mouth, a warm flushing of the skin, heaviness of the extremities, and clouded mental functioning. Following this initial euphoria, the user goes “on the nod,” an alternately wakeful and drowsy state. Users who do not inject the drug may not experience the initial rush, but other effects are the same.

Regular heroin use changes the functioning of the brain. One result is tolerance, in which more of the drug is needed to achieve the same intensity of effect. Another result is dependence, characterized by the need to continue use of the drug to avoid withdrawal symptoms.

INJECTION DRUG USE AND HIV AND HCV INFECTION

People who inject drugs are at high risk of contracting HIV and hepatitis C (HCV). This is because these diseases are transmitted through contact with blood or other bodily fluids, which can occur when sharing needles or other injection drug use equipment. (HCV is the most common blood-borne infection in the Unites States.) HIV (and less often HCV) can also be contracted during unprotected sex, which drug use makes more likely.

Because of the strong link between drug abuse and the spread of infectious disease, drug abuse treatment can be an effective way to prevent the latter. People in drug abuse treatment, which often includes risk reduction counseling, stop or reduce their drug use and related risk behaviors, including risky injection practices and unsafe sex. (See box, “Treating Heroin Addiction.”)

WHAT ARE THE OTHER HEALTH EFFECTS OF HEROIN?

Heroin abuse is associated with a number of serious health conditions, including fatal overdose, spontaneous abortion, and infectious diseases like hepatitis and HIV (see box, “Injection Drug Use and HIV and HCV Infection”). Chronic users may develop collapsed veins, infection of the heart lining and valves, abscesses, constipation and gastrointestinal cramping, and liver or kidney disease. Pulmonary complications, including various types of pneumonia, may result from the poor health of the user as well as from heroin’s effects on breathing.

In addition to the effects of the drug itself, street heroin often contains toxic contaminants or additives that can clog blood vessels leading to the lungs, liver, kidneys, or brain, causing permanent damage to vital organs.

TREATING HEROIN ADDICTION

A range of treatments including behavioral therapies and medications are effective at helping patients stop using heroin and return to stable and productive lives.

Medications include buprenorphine and methadone, both of which work by binding to the same cell receptors as heroin but more weakly, helping a person wean off the drug and reduce craving; and naltrexone, which blocks opioid receptors and prevents the drug from having an effect (patients sometimes have trouble complying with naltrexone treatment, but a new long-acting version given by injection in a doctor’s office may increase this treatment’s efficacy). Another drug called naloxone is sometimes used as an emergency treatment to counteract the effects of heroin overdose.

For more information, see NIDA’s handbook, Principles of Drug Addiction Treatment.

Chronic use of heroin leads to physical dependence, a state in which the body has adapted to the presence of the drug. If a dependent user reduces or stops use of the drug abruptly, he or she may experience severe symptoms of withdrawal. These symptoms—which can begin as early as a few hours after the last drug administration—can include restlessness, muscle and bone pain, insomnia, diarrhea and vomiting, cold flashes with goose bumps (“cold turkey”), and kicking movements (“kicking the habit”). Users also experience severe craving for the drug during withdrawal, which can precipitate continued abuse and/or relapse.

Besides the risk of spontaneous abortion, heroin abuse during pregnancy (together with related factors like poor nutrition and inadequate prenatal care) is also associated with low birth weight, an important risk factor for later delays in development. Additionally, if the mother is regularly abusing the drug, the infant may be born physically dependent on heroin and could suffer from neonatal abstinence syndrome (NAS), a drug withdrawal syndrome in infants that requires hospitalization. According to a recent study, treating opioid-addicted pregnant mothers with buprenorphine (a medication for opioid dependence) can reduce NAS symptoms in babies and shorten their hospital stays

There are real life heroes, and there is hope and help.

http://www.abovetheinfluence.com/

Go to the website. Make a difference by supporting the cause.

Do better. Be better.

“I’m going to take that chance and I’m going to do better. I’m tired of the roller coaster I’ve been on. I’m tired of all the lies, especially the ones I’ve been telling myself. I really thought I could quit whenever I decided. I realize now that’s not true.”

–Lace Lowell

My husband of almost twenty-six years, still rounding up, baby, and my two boys who I promised no more songs and rock biographies about heroin.

My bff and biggest fan, Lisa Kinzel

The bff of my heart, Michelle Warren

My copy editor: Dr. Diane Klein

My proof reader: Hazeline Paddock-Ng

My Black Cat Divas: Wendy Neuman Wilkin, Rita Jinkins Post, Tressa Sager, Jamie Sager Hall, April Merriman, Chantelle Stx, and Harvey Gaudun-Stables

My always & anytime encourager: Kimberly Schaaf

Dr. Shane Haynes – technical consult

My longest, dearest fan and literary guide, Mary Humphrey

Best friends for fun, Kari Novotny and Paige Dejacimo

Book blogger friends: Mandy Anderson at MandyIreadIndie, Denise Tung at Flirty Dirty Book Blog, Kim Person at Shh Mom’s Reading, Peggy Warren at Le’ BookSquirrel, and Brandee Engle Veltri at Brandee’s Book Endings

Michelle Mankin is a young/new adult romance writer as well as a self-proclaimed giant... inside of her own mind!

For many years she worked in the insurance industry as an underwriter. Somehow, the boredom didn't kill her but the hour and hours of looking at facts and figures provided ample time for her mind to wander.

Black Cat Records in Vancouver provides the central backdrop for all of Michelle’s current novels. Love Evolution, Love Revolution, and Love Resolution are a Brutal Strength centered trilogy, combining the plot underpinnings of Shakespeare with the drama, excitement, and indisputable sexiness of the rock 'n roll industry.

Things take a bit of a darker, edgier turn with the Tempest series. These pierced, tatted, and troubled Seattle rockers are young and on the cusp of making it big, but with serious obstacles to overcome that may prevent them from ever getting there.

When Michelle is not prowling the streets of her Texas town listening to her rock music much too loud, she is putting her daydreams down on paper or traveling the world with her family and friends, sometimes for real, and sometimes just for pretend as she takes the children to school and back.

BRUTAL STRENGTH SERIES:

Love Evolution

Love Revolution

Love Resolution

CONNECT WITH MICHELLE MANKIN ON:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Michelle-Mankin/233503403414065

On Twitter: https://twitter.com/MichelleMankin

On her website: http://www.michellemankin.com/

Content

Irresistible Refrain
Tempest 1
by
Michelle Mankin

Prologue 6 and a half years ago

1 The Present

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