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They came in when we were sleeping. They were silent until our bedroom door was kicked open, and a loud male voice shouted, “Police! Police! We have a search warrant!” They flooded into the room. It felt like a stampede was entering, as the floorboards jostled and the bed shook. I sat up, dazed, but Elijah was already up. He kicked off the bed sheets, grabbed his jeans, and ran to the window. “Freeze! Stop right there and let me see your hands. Freeze!”

A strong hand grabbed my arm, and I was yanked upright. I soared through the air and hit against the far wall. It all happened in the blink of an eye.

Thud.

I can’t believe this is happening, I thought while in the air, right before I crashed into the wall with that thud. Elijah and I had been at a rave three hours earlier. The night had been filled with techno music, neon lights, and sweat that came from too much dancing, too much sex, and too much fun. And now this—I wanted to curse. I wasn’t dumb. What was happening before my eyes brought back all my brother’s warnings.

“He sells drugs, Bri.”

Braden had been so sure. I had been sure he was wrong. I had laughed at him and walked away, shaking my head, but a part of me had wondered. The money I found in boxes and bags that were stuffed everywhere. The chest he kept a lock on and refused to tell me what was inside. The nightly visits from people who were never allowed inside the house. After the first few fights, I stopped asking, because the truth was, I didn’t want to know.

Living in Grant West allowed me to live in that denial. Our town wasn’t a large city, but we had a large university and two technical colleges. The population swarmed tenfold during the school months, and because of all the newbies in town, the locals formed a tight unit. Sometimes they mixed with us. That was inevitable, especially at bars and sporting events. We tried not to associate with outsiders, but I knew one person that did. Elijah. All those college parties he dragged me to, only to disappear as soon as we walked through the door—those college students were his customers.

I groaned.

Idiot!

I was pulled from my thoughts when the cop pushed me face-first into the wall. He kicked my legs open, wrenched my arms behind my back, and slapped handcuffs onto my wrists. I winced as the cold metal cut into my skin, but ignored the pain and twisted my head to the window to see Elijah on the window frame, poised to jump.

The cop closest to Elijah yelled, “Elijah Turner, get on the floor!” Elijah stopped and spun around to face the room. His crystal green eyes jerked to mine, and his shoulders heaved up and down. The scratch marks I had left a few hours ago stretched with each breath he took.

So much passed between us in that look.

He had lied to me, but I had let him.

Everything was tuned out. The police were still yelling for him to stand down. Their guns remained aimed right at him, but he was looking at me.

He had lied to me. We were over, repeated in my mind over and over again.

Then I saw a shift in him. An apology flashed in his gaze, and I knew he was going to jump. I twisted in his direction. “No!”

The officer slammed me back into the wall. “Stay.” His knee pressed into the back of my thigh, holding me in place, and he pushed down on my handcuffs, making them bite into my wrists, but I didn’t feel it.

Please don’t, Elijah, I silently pleaded with him.

He read my unspoken message and took a deep breath in resignation. He was going to surrender. Relief flared through me. I was pissed at him, but jumping would have made things worse. I still cared about him.

The police sensed the shift in him and moved in. They dragged him from the window, pushed him to his knees, and handcuffed him. Once he was in custody, they took him first, leading him out the door. I was next. A female officer took my arm and led me out of the bedroom, into another room. As they did, I could hear drawers, boxes, and books being dumped onto the floor from Elijah’s room.

The officer searched me. My clothes were brought in, and she searched them, too. She went through the pockets of my jeans, checked my shirt and my bra before tossing it to the guy in charge of me. My flip-flops were next. The bottoms were inspected. They were looking for a secret compartment in anything. When nothing was found, she returned my clothes, and I was allowed to re-dress.

When I was taken out, I saw police officers searching all over—other rooms, the bathrooms, and the living room. Even the stair rails. Someone tossed my bag to the female holding my arm. It was unzipped, and the front pockets were pulled out; they had searched it. Another cop came over to us with my wallet. I watched her rifle through everything before she pushed it into the main compartment of my bag and zipped it back up. She said to the cop, “That’s hers. She might need it.” She met my gaze then. “We took your phone. It might have evidence on it.”

I hissed as I was yanked forward again. That was my phone, dammit.

Looking around for Elijah, I saw him in the second cruiser parked outside. When he turned to me, I pulled my gaze away. This was his fault. I had heard the rumors, but I had trusted him. I turned my back on a lot of people because I chose to believe my boyfriend. Elijah had never lied to me before, but this was one big-ass lie.

The cop led me to a different cruiser, and I was pushed into the backseat. Her hand covered my head until I cleared the door. Once inside, she popped into the front seat and turned up the heat. It was then that I realized how cold it was. The clock on her dashboard said it was 4:17 a.m., cold for the little clothing I was wearing. She didn’t say anything before she left again, shutting her door, and I was alone.

I was numb.

I was shocked.

I was livid.

I kept playing out the image of the cops bursting through the door. Elijah. This was his fault. No, it was mine. I should’ve listened to my brother. No. I was going back to my boyfriend. This was all his fault. Well. Check that. Ex-boyfriend now.

. I was tired, too—tired and wired at the same time. My chest was moving up and down at a rapid pace. My skin was crawling, but I wanted to curl under a blanket at the same time. I understood why criminals looked crazy on those cop shows, if this was what they were feeling.

Then the cop came back and got inside. “Your name is Brielle Masterson?”

She was cold and brisk. Well, whatever. I watched those shows, too. I knew to keep my mouth shut. Plus, even though I was pissed at Elijah, I wasn’t exactly being flooded with warm feelings for these officers. It was dumb and immature, but I kept my mouth closed. That was my middle finger to her.

She turned around to face me and held up a file. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t tell us. We know who you are.”

How?

She arched an eyebrow. “We have your phone, Brielle.”

Oh. Well. Color me foolish, except—gritting my teeth—I still didn’t care.

The officer added, “Do you have any idea why we’re arresting you and Mr. Turner?”

I said nothing. I could be stubborn. My brother would testify to that. I wasn’t guilty of anything, so I wasn’t worried, or I didn’t think I should be worried. The cop kept talking, but I tuned her out and caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror. I was surprised at the hard mask looking back at me. My face looked etched in stone, but there was anger boiling under the surface. straight. Thanks a lot, Elijah. Wrinkling my nose, my dark hair was a mess. I hadn’t showered since the day before, so it was greasy. I reached up to smooth my hair out, at least to look a little presentable, but it was pointless. My hair had a mind of its own.

The cop was watching me with narrowed eyes. When I saw that, I turned away, and my chin rose in defiance. She sighed. I caught movement from the corner of my eye as she put the file down on the passenger seat. “Look,” she started, “I don’t know your full story. You have a juvie record, I see. Some fights when you were younger. It says you took on a group of girls. Another time you assaulted your boss at Dairy Queen.”

I snorted. The pervert thought breasts were on the menu…my breasts.

She kept going, “You are going to be processed, and you’ll be booked. You don’t have any drug-related charges. I’d hate for this to be your first one. If you cooperate, you can make it all go away.”

My gaze jerked to hers.

“Tell us what you know about Elijah’s drug circuit.” She smiled at me, though her eyes remained flat. Her tone sounded so friendly. I rolled my eyes. I grew up being poor. My mom worked the night shift, so it was Braden and myself. Our dad left when we were six, and we had to learn to fend for ourselves. We fed ourselves. We dressed ourselves. We figured out what things we needed for school. Mom tried, but she was usually a zombie. I wasn’t an idiot, and this cop wasn’t going to fool me otherwise.

She was saying, “…the more you help us, the more we can help you.”

I slumped down in the seat and took a deep breath. It wasn’t going to happen. I was now in a waiting game. Glancing out the window, I wondered how long this would take. Braden’s band played at Rowdy’s last night, so that meant they might still be there. Even if it was another hour from now, they could still be in the basement. It was where they practiced, but it was where they partied, too. I’d try Rowdy’s number when I was released. Because, you know, they’d have to release me if I wasn’t guilty.

“Fine.” The cop held up her hand in surrender. She turned back around to face the front. “I hope you’re ready for this. You’re going to be interrogated just like every other criminal we arrest.”

Except I wasn’t a criminal. They’d figure that out sooner or later. As she pulled out onto the street, I closed my eyes to try to get some sleep, or at least to calm down more. My heart was still racing. When we got to the police station, the wired feeling was fading, and the exhaustion was taking over. When I was taken into an interrogation room, I eyed the table and had visions of just lying on top of it and going to sleep.

“How long have you been dating Elijah Turner?”

Instead, this was what I got.

“Do you sell drugs for him?”

No answer.

“We know you graduated two years ago, but we know he’s got students from the high school selling for him. Is that what you do? Do you recruit students at your old high school?” She laid a file onto the table.

I closed my eyes. The questions were giving me answers, not the other way around.

“There are witness accounts placing you and Elijah at a rave last night. Drugs were sold at that rave. Your boyfriend’s drugs. If you were a part of it, come clean now. Brielle.” She gentled her tone. I opened my eyes to see a soft grin on her face. “We know a rival organization is moving in. Are you helping both sides?”

What was she talking about? I wanted to ask. No, I wanted to demand.

She leaned across the table toward me. “The time for you to start talking is ending. We have people talking. Don’t think we don’t. They are going to name you as an accessory to this whole thing. We can protect you, Brielle, if you help us. We can keep you safe. Elijah will have no idea you were a part of this.”

I wanted to flip the table over. Then I wanted to leap over it and run out of there. Instead, I took a deep breath and hunched further down in my seat. She was going to keep talking, no matter what she threatened.

“Oh.” She started laughing, stood up, and walked in a small circle. “Do you want a lawyer? You think your mom can pay for one? I read your file. Your whole history is in there. Your daddy left when you were little. Your mom’s working two jobs. You didn’t go to college. How come? My guess is that you stuck around to help your mom?” She opened a folder and skimmed her hand down it, stopping in the middle. “It says you work at the nursing home, but you quit recently. Is that what you’re going to do all your life? Are you going to get another job?”

“How is that any of your business?”

“You make money. With what we have on you, a public defender won’t get you off. You’re looking at jail time, Brielle. Jail.”

I wanted to laugh at her. For what? For picking the wrong guy and ignoring my brother’s warnings? Yes. If that was a crime, take me away, Officer.

Someone knocked briefly on the door, and a new guy came inside. Looking in his older thirties with his blond hair combed back, he was dressed in jeans and a shirt. He was also wearing a GWPD vest. After he nodded to the woman, she left and he turned to stare at me. Nothing was said for a minute, and then he slowly sat down in the chair across from me and folded his hands together, resting them on the table between us. “My name is Detective Williams, and I am here to tell you what we know. You can decide whether or not you want to participate in this investigation or not. Now.” He leaned back in his chair. With one finger, he slid a picture across the table toward me. “That’s a picture of a girl that overdosed at a rave last night. What Officer Sonya said is true. We do know you and Elijah were there, but we can’t connect you to the girl. However, we do know that your boyfriend oversees Grant West. Someone else runs Grant East. Are they the ones moving in? Wait, that’s another discussion if you decide to help us. We don’t know if you’re a part of it, and because of that, yes, you will be released in a moment.”

My head perked up.

He shook his. “I want you to know everything before you leave, so sit back. We would like you to help us, and we can hold you a whole of a lot longer without officially arresting you if we need to. But we’re not going to do that as a sign of good faith. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I have a feeling you won’t be able to not help when we’re done.”

That was stupid of him. I leaned back in my chair and settled in. No matter what he said, I wasn’t a narc. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

His eyebrows moved forward before flattening back into place. “Why do you ask?”

“You recently moved here?”

He didn’t reply, but he didn’t need to. His mouth flattened. “I don’t know what that has to do with this, but here are the facts. A girl overdosed. She is in the hospital, and she may never wake up.” He pointed to the picture. “Do you know this girl? Did your boyfriend sell drugs to her?”

I didn’t know her, and I had no idea if Elijah did or not. Until this morning, I hadn’t even wanted to admit he was a drug dealer.

I remained silent, and after another two minutes passed in silence, he stood up and a disgruntled sound came from him. It sounded like a groan mixed with a gurgling bark. “Fine. We have nothing to hold you. Elijah has been adamant that you have no part of his organization. He’s insisting we release you before he will comply, so with that said, you are free to go.”

I shoved my chair back and stood. “Can I get my phone?”

“No. That stays with us.”

“I thought you said you were letting me go?”

“You’re the girlfriend of a known drug dealer. We have every indication that he might’ve used your phone to set up deals. Your phone stays with us.”

They think he used me? Used my phone? My jaw squared, and I stalked down the hallway. Leaving didn’t take long. They never fingerprinted me. No paperwork had been filed so the only thing I waited for was my bag. As the cop moved to hand it to me, he held it a moment. I glanced up to see him staring at me. It wasn’t a crude stare—not like a lot of the guys in school or Elijah’s friends. It was in a way that my mom used to look at me. His eyebrow raised as he said, “Dump the bad boy. He’s not worth it, and in the end, he’ll just take you down with him.”

He let go of my bag.

“Thanks,” I muttered under my breath, pulling my bag on my shoulder as I headed to the front of the station. Little did they know it was already over. I was an idiot, but I was a single idiot now. Then I stopped and turned back to the clerk. “Can I use your phone?”

“What number?”

Oh, this would not make me look good. “Rowdy’s.”

His nostrils flared.

“Just call. My brother’s band practices in the basement. They’ll still be there. They’ll answer.”

He did and it wasn’t long before I heard someone answer. He straightened and his hand scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, hello. This is Officer Malley. I’ve got a…” He paused and held the phone against his chest. “What’s your name?”

“Bri.”

He held the phone to his ear again and continued to frown at me. “A Bri here. She reassures me that her brother’s band uses your basement to practice…” He stopped, and after another moment, he nodded and hung up. “The owner’s sending someone to pick you up.”

I nodded and headed outside to wait. I didn’t want to stay in there. If I did, who knows what could happen. They could change their minds and take me in for more questioning. I knew they probably wouldn’t, but I didn’t want to chance it. Visions of my bed were taunting me, jumping all around in my head and laughing at me as I sat on the curb and waited for Braden.

Twenty minutes later, my brother’s truck slid to a stop in front of me. Grabbing my purse, I didn’t see who was behind the wheel and said, “I know you guys played tonight and figured you’d still be partying, but I was nervous you would’ve passed out or with some girl…” Then I saw who was staring back at me and forgot what I was about to say. “ me.”

Luke Skeet. His dark brown hair fell over his forehead, but he ignored it. A hint of dark humor entered those grey eyes of his, and he shook his head. “No, Bri. All those nights I crawled into your bed, was the one thing we never got around to doing.” His eye twitched, and his hand tightened its grip on the steering wheel. He skimmed me up and down. “Pity about that.”

I tried to stop my body from reacting. I did, but I failed. He was still gorgeous. My body grew heated, and I swallowed, already feeling my pulse quickening. Until three years ago, Luke Skeet had been my neighbor and best friend. I had made avoiding him into an art since Luke was still my neighbor and still friends with my brother. Oh yeah, he was in my brother’s band, too—the band I helped form when we were in middle school.

All of that ended when I found his bloody body lying unconscious on his kitchen floor. It was the same night I started dating Elijah.

Chapter Two-1

I didn’t move to climb inside the truck. I couldn’t. My throat was dry, and my arms wouldn’t reach out to grab the handle. I couldn’t look away from him. “What are you doing here?”

Wearing his signature tattered jeans and a simple white T-shirt, he looked delicious as he stared back at me. For a moment, just one moment, it was like when we’d been best friends. He was gazing into me, reading my thoughts, just knowing me. It was only the two of us. The world had melted away. I had missed this feeling. I licked my lips, and his gaze darted down to them, lingering there. Then he rolled his eyes, leaned back in his seat, and raked a hand through his brown locks. “What’s the problem, Bri? You called Rowdy’s for a ride. I’m your ride.” The corner of his mouth curved up, and he chuckled. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

I flushed. Swinging the door open, I climbed into the passenger side with a sigh. “Why didn’t Braden come?”

Luke shifted the gear into drive and pulled away from the police station before he answered. “Because he was busy, if you know what I mean.”

Meaning my brother was with a girl. My twin brother had a pretty boy face. He looked young with soft skin, round cheeks, and dark brown eyes like mine. Girls loved him.

“You guys were still partying?” I looked down at my lap. I didn’t know why I had asked that. I knew the answer.

Luke drove the truck out into traffic and glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “We had a gig last night.” He turned the wheel, heading through an intersection. “And can I ask what you were arrested for?”

“I wasn’t. I was taken in. Elijah was arrested. They let me go.”

His lips pressed together in a flat line.

I could feel his disapproval and flushed again. It’d been so long since I’d been alone with Luke. I’d forgotten how powerful his presence was. Every sensation I had was on overdrive. I felt assaulted on all ends, from head to toe. My body remained heated, and my throat felt parched, like I was in a desert. His voice was soft, deep, disapproving, and seductive all at once. I shifted in my seat, trying to get more comfortable, but the smell of pine, sweat, and cigarette smoke filled the cab. I hated cigarettes. I hated smoking, and I knew Luke didn’t smoke. He was just around it, but , when it was mixed with his own smell, it was intoxicating.

What was I doing? Even though I hadn’t said the words to Elijah, I had already broken up with him in my heart, and the first guy to pick me up was turning me on? Literally?

Stop it, Bri. I cursed at myself.

Before I realized it, I found myself saying, “It’s over with him.”

Luke didn’t say anything; he only glanced at me again.

As he turned into Rowdy’s parking lot and parked, he turned the engine off and pulled the keys from the ignition, but he didn’t move to get out. I looked back at him. So much had changed. Too much had changed. That thought kept repeating, over and over again in my head.

I bit my lip, and his eyes turned away. He rested a hand on the wheel and asked, his voice rough, “What do you want me to say?”

“What do you mean?”

“To Bray.”

“I thought you said he was with a girl.”

“He is.” He turned back, and just like that, as soon as our eyes met again, I felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach with the look he’d given me. The kind of punch—the kind that’s so shocking—that robs you of all your breath, and for a moment, you can’t think or move. That was how I felt as he kept going, “I’m sure they’re done by now, but he’s going to ask why you’re here and why I brought you. Do you want me to keep quiet?”

“Elijah and I are done. I didn’t do anything wrong.” Except not listen to everyone. “It’s going to come out eventually.” A different thought came to mind. “Is Emerson in there?”

Luke chuckled, and the smooth sound of it washed over me, acting like a caress. “You mean our bass guitarist? The guy who’s always down for partying? Your cousin?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, the cousin that hates me.”

“Yeah, he’s in there, too.”

Well, this was going to be fun. “Okay, let’s just get this over with.” I opened my door and got out. Luke did the same on his side, and we headed across the parking lot together. As we entered the bar, I heard my cousin yell out over the microphone, “All hail our lead singer, Luke Skeeet!”

A couple of girls giggled.

Then I heard. “What the ?”

Coming from outside, I was blinded for a moment by the rising sun into the dark bar. Expecting them to have moved all the equipment down into the basement, I was surprised to see everything was still on the stage. Then I saw my cousin. He’d been sitting behind the drum set, but he was standing now, glaring at me.

“What are you doing with her?”

I flicked him off. Different day. Same routine.

“ you, Bri.”

The other middle finger went up, and I forced a fake smile. Since I started dating his best friend, Elijah, Emerson turned from loving me like family to hating me like we were blood enemies. It was a switch that happened over night, and after three years of his attitude, I stopped wondering what I’d done and just went with it. We were hostile, at best, but sometimes it got worse. I waited, wondering if this was going to be another night that would be another ‘worse’ situation. I was prepared and ready to fight.

Luke ignored him and glanced around. “Where’s Braden?”

Emerson was a few inches shorter than Luke. Whereas Luke was six feet, broad shoulders, and lean with a trim waist, Emerson had a stout build. He was solid and muscular. The other difference was that Luke had a mop of brown hair, usually brushed aside and ruffled to look messy, but it worked for him. He was gorgeous with chiseled cheekbones and a face that belonged in magazines. My cousin had stopped trying to grow his hair out. Instead, he cut it all off and maintained a buzz cut, almost bald. His cheekbones were set too close to his eyes, his mouth was small and usually in a scowl, at least around me, and tattoos adorned his neck and body.

Grudgingly, Emerson answered, his glare moving away from me, “He headed home. Why?” After tossing the sticks onto the floor, which had me wincing, he jumped off the stage. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he came over closer, his beady eyes fixed firmly on me. “What are you doing here, Bri?”

I didn’t look at him, but I felt Luke glancing sideways at me.

Here we go. “SWAT came in this morning.”

Emerson narrowed his eyes.

I added, “Elijah was arrested. I was taken in, too.” My lips were suddenly dry. “A girl overdosed at the rave last night. They’re trying to pin it on him.”

A deep growl came from the back of his throat. “Tell me you called someone to bail him out.”

I didn’t, but I didn’t tell him that.

Emerson took my silence the right way, and another growl burst from him. “Are you kidding me, Bri? What kind of girlfriend are you? At least call his—”

“His what?” I cut him off. “His mom’s probably passed out in her own vomit, and you know he’s got no one else that he trusts. His roommate won’t leave his basement, and I refuse to call any of his drug people. I don’t even know who they are.”

He clipped his head from side to side. “You’re unbelievable.” He looked at Luke. “I gotta bail him out. We have another gig tonight?”

Luke nodded, watching me the entire time. “Yeah.”

“Do we need to practice beforehand?”

“Yeah, I want to practice that new song.”

“Fine. I’ll be here at eight.”

As they talked, Emerson pulled out his phone and wallet. He thumbed through his cash, taking inventory, and when his frown deepened, I assumed he didn’t have enough. I shook my head. “You’re wasting your time. His bail hasn’t even been set.”

“Whatever.” He seared me with another dirty look, pressing some numbers on his phone and lifting the receiver to his ear. “I can still start calling for a bond.” As he moved around me, we heard him say, “Yeah, hi. I need the number for a bail bonds—” He shoved through the door, and it slammed shut behind him.

Luke didn’t say anything. He was only watching me. Always watching me. I needed a moment to center my thoughts. Rather than looking at Luke, I looked around the bar. Rowdy’s was a dingy, hole-in-the-wall, dive bar. There was nothing flashy about the outside. A simple sign was the only thing that hung outside to attract customers, and it was more to show where the entry door was. The inside had a stage in one corner with a small dance area. Tables and bar stools filled up the middle, and the back had pool tables with booths lining the walls.

The clientele had always been vast. They ranged from blue-collar workers to those down-on-their-luck to local college students. One dollar tap beer helped bring in those students, while Friday nights’ DJ brought in the dancing crowd. Saturday nights showcased local bands with Luke and my brother’s band playing the majority of them.

The floor was swept clean. The bar stools were sitting on top of the counters, and the chairs were turned upside down over the tables. Rowdy’s office was closed, and I couldn’t see a light from underneath the door. Only a handful of girls remained in the bar. A few were leaning against the stage, looking tired. I had a hunch they were waiting for Luke.

“You need a ride somewhere?”

“Don’t you want to stay and socialize?”

Luke shrugged. “Those girls were staying for Em. I was heading out when the phone rang.”

So, Rowdy hadn’t answered. Knowing that Luke had been going home anyway but still came to get me, made me pause. I didn’t want to think about how that made me feel. , Bri. You were with Elijah only a few hours ago.

“Yeah, can I get a ride home?”

A doom-and-gloom feeling settled on the bottom of my stomach, but as I followed him out of the bar and to his truck, I couldn’t deny the spike in my pulse either.

When Luke dropped me off at my apartment, I went inside and leaned against my door. My insides were swirling. So much had happened, but I didn’t want to think about it. I couldn’t. ‘Keep forward. Deal later.’ That’d been a quote I loved and I needed it that day. So, I literally moved forward, showering and collapsing in my bed, but after waking a few hours later with nightmares of cops breaking down my own door, I figured the ‘deal later’ would need to be much, much later. It was close to dinner time, so to keep pushing everything out of my mind, I headed for my mom’s house. Braden would hear about my escapade soon enough, but I wanted him to hear it from me.

My stomach grumbled as I went in through the back door. I needed to get some food, but instead of the expected aromas of dinner being made, there was nothing. The kitchen lights were off; only the hallway light was on. My mom rushed out, dressed in scrubs with her identification tag that said Sharon Masterson hanging around her neck. She’d recently showered and her hair, normally light blonde, looked dark as it was twisted up in a bun. She was slender, my size and height. Braden always complained he hadn’t gotten the tall gene from our dad. Both of us got our darker looks from him, though. Dark hair. Tan complexion, but I was thankful that was it. There were so many other attributes we could’ve gotten from him, like being an abusive . Being 5’11” was going to be Braden’s curse instead.

“Oh, honey.” She grabbed her keys from the kitchen table and came over to kiss me on the cheek. Patting my shoulder, she grabbed a water from the refrigerator. “How was your night?”

I watched her grab a gait belt and asked as she looped it around her waist, “Is that a trick question?”

“Huh?” Her forehead wrinkled. Searching her pockets, she bit down on her lip and started looking around the kitchen. “I need a pen. I always forget my pens.”

Chapter Two-2

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her. Elijah. The raid. Luke. I didn’t. I wasn’t sure what she’d say to me. Our mom had never been a big disciplinarian. She let us make our own mistakes. She had to, though. She was too busy working to know half the times when we did get in trouble.

“There’s food in the fridge, if you need to eat something.” She hurried to the door, but turned and used her back to open it. “Oh. Can you wake your brother up? He’s napping, and since you’re here, can you give him a ride to Rowdy’s? He asked for a ride earlier.”

I nodded. Yep. Sounds good. I’ll tell you about the SWAT raid later…maybe… By the time she rushed out the door, I knew I wasn’t ever going to tell her. I’d tell her about Elijah. That’d be good enough. She liked him, but was wary after Braden shared his suspicions of him. Thinking of my brother, I went to wake him up.

An hour later, on our way to Rowdy’s for his practice, I told my brother the news. He exclaimed, “This is awesome!”

Had I heard my brother right? “It’s awesome I was taken to jail today?”

“No.” Braden faltered. “You said you were done with Elijah, right?” Braden scratched the back of his head. When his hand left his head, the hair behind his ear remained standing up. It worked for him. He was dressed in a simple black shirt and jeans like mine, except his were baggy and hung low on his hips. With a few leather bracelets on his wrist and his new tattoo, he had taken on the rocker bad boy look.

I didn’t know what to say. Hearing Braden say those words, that I was done, sounded alien to me.

The longer I stayed quiet, the more his grin slipped until it turned into a look of alarm. He turned squarely in his seat until he was facing me and raked a hand through his black hair. “Brielle, tell me you’re not going back to him.” He shook his head. “You told me you believed me earlier. You came in my room, kicked my bed, woke me up, and apologized for being a over the years. You said you believed me. You can’t take it back.”

I tried to shake my head, but my neck muscles had stiffened. We were done… We were done… I needed to keep telling myself that.

“Bri!”

I jerked out of my thoughts, realizing I had a death-grip on the steering wheel. “What?”

“You are done with him, right? I’m not going to shut up until you actually say the words.”

“Yes.” It came out hoarse, like I’d swallowed a boulder that was stuck in my throat. I coughed and said again, my voice much clearer, “Yes, I’m done. I’m sure Emerson told him already, anyway.”

“For real, real?”

“Yes!”

“Good.” He jerked back in his seat, a sound of relief coming from him. “Elijah’s not a bad dude, like in personality and stuff, but the guy’s messed up in other ways. For one, he sells drugs.” He gave me a grin. “I can’t believe he was able to hide it from you this whole time.”

“Yeah.” A lump formed at the base of my throat, blocking my oxygen for a moment. As my brother kept talking, so carefree now, pain sliced through me. With each word he spoke, the pain in my heart grew. . Elijah and I really were done. Three years and now—that’s why it didn’t feel real to me. It felt like I was mad and just avoiding him for a weekend.

Braden continued chatting, excited to have his sister back. I could go to their practices, I could help with the band, I would have free time to hang out with him, blah, blah, blah. He kept going as I sat here, feeling as if someone was slapping me over and over again.

“Shut up.”

Braden stopped. “Huh?”

“Just...” Was there a nicer way to say this? “Shut up, okay?”

“Why?”

“Braden.” I closed my eyes for a second, wanting to just disappear and take a breather. I opened them again, but couldn’t look at him. “I loved Elijah. We’re over. Do me a favor and stop rubbing it in. I literally just told you.”

He was silent for a moment. “He deals drugs, Bri.”

“I know.” My voice rose in volume, and I flinched, grabbing hold of the steering wheel like I was going to be ripped out of the car. “I know. I’m not going back to him, but it’s hitting me for the first time here. For real. I just…” need a minute. I needed a minute.

“Okay.” He started to get out, but paused at the door.

I lifted my top lip, hoping for a reassuring smile, but when he frowned even more, I knew I had failed. Raking my hand through my long hair, I shook my head and tried to stir my thoughts. Now that we were here, I was tempted to head inside Rowdy’s and start drinking. There was a burning sensation in the middle of my chest, and the more reality was sinking in, the more painful it was becoming.

One of Braden’s eyebrows arched from confusion. Then he gestured behind him, toward the bar. “Come inside.”

“What?” I started to shake my head. Luke would be in there. Emerson, too. “No, no.”

“Yeah. I know I got all excited before, but you should come in. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

My head moved back. I harrumphed. “I won’t be alone. I have friends…” I didn’t. I’d had a couple of female friends in high school, but most of them had only used me to get to Luke or Braden. The others, who might’ve been genuine friends, had stopped hanging out with me. Well…I stopped hanging out with them. It’d all been about Elijah and his slightly creepy friends.

He snorted. “You have mom.”

I gritted my teeth. “Braden.”

“Stop it, Bri. I know you’re hurting. I can see it in your eyes. I’m sorry for being an insensitive jerk brother. Let me be your brother now.” His tone gentled. “Come inside. We’re not twenty-one, but I’ll make sure you get all the booze you want.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing a little. After Luke’s dad took off three years ago, the owner had given him a job doing whatever needed to be done around the bar. In the last few years, Luke had stopped working there, but the basement had been renovated for their practices. It was soundproofed and the manager, who took over most of the operations, didn’t mind having them down there. They could practice all they wanted since it never interfered with the bar itself.

“Come on.” Braden shut his door and rounded to mine. Opening it, he leaned inside and plucked the keys out of the ignition before I realized what he was doing.

“I don’t think I can handle Emerson tonight.”

“Nah.” He pulled me out, shut the door, and threw an arm around my shoulder. “It’s Emerson that won’t be able to handle you tonight. I mean it. You can do whatever you want, even play drums.”

He meant it as teasing, but at those words, my chest tightened again. I’d been a part of the band when they formed; half of my name was in the title, Braille. , I hadn’t touched the drums in so long. Feeling the beat, pounding it out, making everyone else feel it, too, opened a whole new yearning I had tried to bury with so many other things inside me.

Three. . Long. Years.

“I can’t.”

Braden studied me as he walked inside. “Yeah, well, we’ll see.” He held the door open for me. The basement stairs were in front of us, and I started down, but paused and glanced toward the bar area. Luke was heading toward us. He paused, too. Once he saw me, our gazes collided, and I tore my gaze away, hurrying downstairs.

Braden stayed back, saying his hellos to Luke, and then their voices grew quiet. I kept going, knowing they were talking about me now. Before I hit the bottom step, I heard Luke say, “Yeah, that’s fine with me.” I stopped listening and moved into the main basement area.

Emerson was already there, tuning his guitar. He glanced up, his eyes sparkling, but when he saw me, he gave the same reaction as earlier that morning. He straightened, lifting the guitar strap and placing it onto the floor. “No. Get out.”

“ off, Em.” I shot him an annoyed look and went for the bar. It was more of a bookshelf cut in half and positioned so it was sticking out of the wall. A run-down refrigerator was behind it, sitting in a corner of the room with a freezer next to it. The other side of the room was where they set up the equipment on a make-shift stage made from crates and recycled doors. The rest of the basement had three couches and two dark green lounge chairs spread all over. Each couch had a cushion that was ripped at the bottom and flayed armrests.

Braden and Luke walked down the stairs, and it wasn’t long before my brother said, “Yes. She’s here. Deal with it.”

“No!”

“Suck it up, Em,” Luke spoke.

Reaching for the bourbon, I froze. That was a new development. I might’ve been the poster child for avoiding Luke, but for him to speak up for me? And against Emerson? That was a new development. I shot Braden a look and saw he was surprised, too.

Luke added, “She’s practicing with us. We’ve been talking about bringing in a fourth person, anyway.”

Emerson snorted. “I thought we were talking about your friend, Gunn, not her.”

“That’s enough,” Braden piped in. “It’s decided. I decided. Bri’s joining the band. We were better with her, anyway.”

“No! Come on, guys.”

“Well, let’s not get too hasty.” Luke was trying to keep the peace, but what he said earlier was still ringing in my ears. They were considering a fourth person? After I quit, Braden took over my spot on the drums, and Luke played guitar as well as sang. They never replaced me, and knowing now that they were considering it? It hurt.

Screw it. I was playing. Needing a little liquid courage to steady my shaky hands, I grabbed the bottle of bourbon and poured myself a shot. After tossing it back, I turned and held out my hands. Braden was beaming as he held out the drumsticks. I took them as I passed him by and sat in my old seat.

Once situated, Emerson rolled his eyes at me and held his hands in the air. “I’m not playing with her. Sorry. No way.” He headed for the door.

“Emerson,” Luke called after him.

“I’m out. I need to go see if they let my best friend out yet.” He hurried up the stairs, his feet pounding on them until he shoved out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

“Let him go.” Braden went to the bar and poured himself a shot, too. After he emptied his glass, he picked up the guitar Emerson had left behind. “Call Gunn. He can fill in.”

I could feel Luke’s gaze on me. Instead of staring back at him, I examined the drums more thoroughly, adjusted the stool an unnecessary amount of times, rested my chin on my chest, and fiddled with the drumsticks. The longer he remained silent, the more I fidgeted with the drumsticks.

Was he rethinking this? Is that why he’s so quiet?

“Fine. Gunn’s practiced with us enough. We shouldn’t have too much of a problem, but don’t get too excited. We both know Emerson will come back tonight. He storms off, but he always comes back.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Braden was firm. “We should use Bri, anyway. She’ll remember most of the material, and she’ll pick up the new stuff tonight. She’s good. She’s the best.”

“Yeah.” Luke didn’t sound too happy about it. “We’ll see.”

When he left to call Gunn, I let out the small breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. Looks like I was going to be Drummer Extraordinaire for the night. I had to admit, I was looking forward to it—anything to keep my mind off Elijah, and Luke, too. Sneaking a look under my eyelids when Luke took his place at the microphone later, I realized I hadn’t taken into account how it felt to play music with him again.