Skylar
I don’t want Memphis to return and find me gone, so I’ll have to make this quick.
After locking my car, I sprint up the walkway and hurry inside the house.
I wait for the small pang of regret. A small flicker of nostalgia. Something. But all I feel is relief.
This place held my belongings, but it was never my home.
He is.
I don’t own a lot of luggage. Just a small carry-on suitcase and a duffel bag, but it’s enough for me to pack my most important things. The rest I’ll get later this week.
I’m sure Memphis won’t have a problem helping me load up his truck with all my clothes and feet prisoners.
Until he realizes he’s about to lose a shit-ton of closet space.
I can’t contain my smile as I head for the bedroom.
We’re really doing this.
I’m sure the press will have a field day once they catch wind of us, but rock stars have done far worse than steal a bandmate’s girl.
Besides, it’s easier to let other people’s words and unsolicited opinions roll off your back when you’re happy.
Truly happy.
Not just a short burst that lasts for a fleeting moment. The kind that warms you from the inside out.
The kind that causes you to wake up and thank the universe for letting the stars align.
The kind that makes you realize that all the pain you ever went through was worth it, because it led you to him.
The person you were always meant to be with.
“Hey, babe.”
My jaw hits the floor when Josh comes out of the bedroom.
He’s only been gone for twelve days. He shouldn’t be back so soon.
“What are you doing here?”
I swallow hard, unprepared for the monkey wrench life just threw in my path. It’s a thirty-day program. I thought I’d have a little more time to figure out how to break the news.
His face goes slack as he steps out into the hallway. “They let me out early for good behavior.”
I’m no expert on rehab, but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work that way.
“Right.”
My tone conveys my skepticism.
“Wow.” His features contort with irritation. “You’d think you’d be happy to see me.”
Guilt is a steel anchor in my belly, weighing me down. I don’t want to be the cause of him falling off the wagon, but I’ve always put Josh and his needs above my own.
For once it’s time to do what makes me happy.
Wringing my hands, I shuffle my feet, unsure how to proceed. No matter what I say it’s going to hurt him.
The best thing I can do is be honest and tell him it’s over.
I can save my reasons—and my being in love with his brother—for another juncture.
“This isn’t working.”
He raises a brow. “What isn’t?”
Time to rip the Band-Aid off. “This…us. I’ll always be your friend, but I can’t do this anymore.”
Love was the foundation of our relationship, but toxic codependence is the only thing holding it together now. It’s not healthy for either of us.
He opens his mouth to protest, but I don’t give him the chance. His pleas will only make things worse and nothing he says will change anything. Not this time.
“I’m gonna pack some of my things. Let me know when I can come back and get the rest.”
Slipping past him, I make my way into the bedroom.
There. It’s done. Over.
I’m free.
Sharp piercing pain shoots through my scalp. “What the—”
It takes me two full seconds to comprehend that he’s pulling my damn hair.
“You think I didn’t know you were fucking him?”
Shock spreads through my system like a boulder rolling downhill. Not only because of his words, but he still has a fistful of my hair.
He’s come close to crossing the line during arguments in the past, but he’s always stopped himself and apologized after.
And I always forgave him.
I rationalized that everyone has an ugly side, especially when emotions are high.
Hell, I slashed my principal’s tires.
However, I’d never physically hurt someone. Especially someone I once claimed to love.
I can’t even blame alcohol or drugs for his behavior this time because he sounds and appears stone-cold sober.
“Josh—”
“I can smell him on you.” He tightens his grip. “I forgave you the first time. I won’t make that mistake again.”
Forgave me? More like begged me to stay.
And I did.
Because I thought I could save him.
Because I owed him.
Because he killed my monster.
“Let go of me,” I demand, hoping it will make him snap back to reality. “You’re acting crazy.”
He lowers his mouth to my ear. The threatening tilt in his voice has my chest sinking. “Crazy is betraying me again and thinking there won’t be a consequence.”
Consequence? What in the world is he…
Cold steel presses against my temple.
Holy shit. It’s a gun. That’s a gun.
“W-what are you doing?”
It’s a stupid question. It’s blatantly obvious what’s happening.
He’s. Holding. A. Gun. To. My. Head.
A gun he told me he acquired for extra protection against intruders…not this.
How did we get here?
How many wrong turns and red flags did I ignore along the way?
“I’m a killer, remember? Or were you so busy being his whore you forgot what I did for you.”
I gasp when he digs the weapon into my skin.
“Or should I say, what you did.”
He’s not making any sense.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I buried him with your suicide note.”
My suicide note?
I freeze, realizing what he’s referring to.
Shortly after I told him our codeword, Hara Kiri, I ran home and locked myself in my bedroom. I didn’t want to leave this earth without telling Shane exactly what I thought about him.
I shudder as I think about all the acrimony that letter contained.
How much I hated him.
How much I wished he was dead.
How I thought about all the ways I wanted to kill him every single day.
I referred to it as my suicide note when I shared it with Josh, but in the wrong context, it certainly won’t read like one.
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
I know Josh is upset about Memphis.
I also know killing Shane is a debt I can never repay…but that doesn’t mean he can keep me his for eternity.
Only it does.
Because while he’s the one who pulled the trigger, planting that note with his body points to me being the prime suspect.
Plus, there’s the fact that while his current financial situation is a dumpster fire, it won’t be like that forever.
It’s his word against mine, and sooner or later he’ll have the money—and the power, thanks to Vic Doughty in his corner—to throw me in prison for the rest of my life.
A knock on the front door makes me jump.
“Who do you think that could be?”
I seriously hope it’s a Jehovah’s Witness or someone selling crap no one needs. Then they’ll eventually go away and move on to the next house.
A swell of trepidation rises within me when another knock assaults my ears. Louder this time.
Memphis is probably confused and upset. No doubt wondering why I ran off after he laid his heart on the line, and I promised not to hurt him again.
I’m relieved when Josh releases his hold on me. However, it’s short-lived.
“Let’s go clean up your mess.”
Steeling myself, I turn around.
“Just ignore it. He’ll leave.”
After he does, I can focus on talking Josh off this psychotic ledge he’s on.
A torrent of dread coils my stomach when he tucks the gun into the back of his waistband. “Nah, it’s time to get rid of this problem for good.”
I’m thinking of ways to wrangle it away, but he grips my arm and drags me toward the foyer.
When we reach the front door, he moves in front of me and opens it.
“Hey, Memph.”
Memphis’s melancholy expression changes to one of surprise which only makes Josh snicker like the vindictive asshole he is right now.
“I’m sorry. Were you expecting someone else?
” He takes a half step back and pivots, his indignant gaze ping ponging between us.
“I’ve never been one to beat around the bush, guys.
This is quite the little love triangle we’re in, huh?
I guess it’s true what they say—history always repeats itself.
At least this time, Skylar came clean and told me you two were fucking behind my back again. ”
Not exactly.
The color drains from Memphis’s face.
He opens his mouth, but Josh interjects before he can speak. “Look, I’m gonna make this simple.” He zeros in on me. To anyone else he’d appear calm—hell, acquiescent even—but I sense the subtle threat lingering. Like a cobra slithering around you. Ready to strike when you least expect it.
Perhaps it’s always been there, and I just wasn’t looking hard enough.
Because he was supposed to be my hero…not my villain.
“If you want to be with him, go ahead. I won’t stop you.”
I want Memphis more than anything, but I’m not stupid. If I walk out that door with him, we won’t get far. Josh will shoot us both.
My lunatic ex was right about one thing, though. History does repeat itself.
Once again, I have to choose one of them.
Only now I’m doing what I should have done four years ago and choosing Memphis.
Warm pools of depth lock with mine, and he holds out his hand. There are so many emotions in his stare. Love, want, determination…vulnerability.
“Let’s go.”
Dive into the deep end with him.
That’s what he’s really saying.
Keep your promise to me.
I swallow and it feels like a thousand dull razor blades going down, each one carving me open and leaving me to bleed out.
Wearing a mask has always been Memphis’s superpower, not mine.
However, I have to get him out of here.
Mustering strength I’m not sure I possess, I force myself to do whatever it takes to protect him.
“I can’t keep hurting him.”
“Hurting him?” Pain etches his expression, but he perseveres. “You can’t keep babying him and being a doormat. Stop being a martyr and live the life you want.” A shallow breath leaves him, and his voice drops to a tortured rasp. “Choose me.”
I am.
He just doesn’t know it.
“We were a mistake.” Tears sting the back of my throat like acid. My next words are the hardest—and most dishonest—words that will ever pass my lips. “I don’t love you.”
He rocks back on his heels. “Sky—”
“I don’t love you. I gave you my body, but my heart will always belong to Josh.
You know this. You’ve always known it.” I hammer the final nail into the coffin.
One that will make it even more believable.
“It was wrong of me to proposition you. I just wanted to get back at him. I’m sorry I led you on… it was a mistake.”
The sheer agony slashing his face nearly brings me to my knees.
“You’re right,” he whispers, tearing his gaze away. “We were a mistake.”
My heart has been broken so many times I’ve lost count.
However, watching Memphis get into his truck and drive off does so much more than that.
It obliterates my soul.
Smiling like the cat who ate the canary, Josh closes the door. “That’s my girl.”
A queasy feeling fills my stomach when he walks over to me…like he owns me. “I’m not yours.”
I haven’t been in a long time.
Eyes narrowing, he appraises me for several long seconds before sighing. “I knew you weren’t going to make this easy.”
“Damn—”
Whatever retort I had vanishes when his fist connects with my face.
Holy. Shit.
Head spinning, I reel back from the force of the blow.
Josh takes the opportunity to seize my arm. “See what you made me do?”
Oh god. That’s the quintessential line nearly every abuser uses. I suddenly feel like I’m starring in a bad Lifetime movie.
I try to break away, but he snatches my hair. Again. I yelp because my scalp is still sensitive from the last time.
He smirks, like he’s proud of himself. “You forgot your place, Sky.”
My heart plummets. Hearing him taunt me with Memphis’s name for me hurts a million times worse than the punch he just delivered.
Upon realizing he’s found my Achilles’ heel, he cackles. “Please don’t ever play poker, babe.”
I suppose I did just give my hand away.
But I’m not cashing in my chips without a fight.
Think, Skylar. Think.
The last person I called was Storm. I just have to figure out how to unlock my phone screen and click on my call log. Upon hearing my intentional butt dial, Storm will realize something’s wrong and call the police.
I’m sure Josh will make good on his threat and try to pin Shane’s murder on me, but Storm and the rest of the guys will have my back.
Two taps till freedom.
“Don’t ever take an IQ test because you’ll be the only person to fail it,” I taunt, slipping my free hand into the side pocket of my jeans.
“I thought it was obvious to anyone with a pulse that I was in love with Memphis.” Being as strategic as possible, I attempt to unlock my phone.
“I mean, how could I not be? He’s far hotter.
Eons more talented. And he has a way bigger dick—”
My head snaps back. A surge of dizziness has everything around me whirling.
Too far, Skylar.
White-hot pain burns my nose and I taste blood. However, I can’t focus on that because my phone hits the floor with a sound that can only be described as defeat.
Even still, I attempt to grab it. The moment I do, Josh headbutts me so hard it knocks the wind out of me again.
“I give you credit,” he says, swiping my phone off the floor. “You’re not half as dumb as I thought you were.”
Same could be said for him.
Despite having a temper and being quick to lash out, there are times his party-boy disposition rivals a toddler hyped up on sugar.
Drugs and alcohol.
That’s the culprit.
And I’m the enabling dumbass.
Because anytime he became hostile, I quickly excused it on account of him being inebriated.
I flinch when he throws my phone against the wall, and it breaks into several pieces.
“I thought I was brave once, too,” he sneers, taking hold of my wrist so he can tug me down the hallway. “But you know what Curtis told me?”
A bolt of panic shoots up my spine. His father.
Josh hasn’t spoken about him in years.
Because it awakens the demon inside him.
I plant my feet. “Josh—”
“He said it was time for me to learn that being brave and stupid were the exact same thing.”
Contorting my body, I try to reach for the gun.
I cry out when he yanks my arm…so hard I’m positive he just ripped it from the socket.
“I’m sorry.” His expression is grave—almost remorseful—as we approach the bedroom. “But I’m going to need to teach you the same lesson.”
I shake my head vigorously, imploring him not to go through with whatever this lesson is. “No—”
“I don’t have a choice, baby. You went too far this time. I have to do a reset.”
Reset? What the hell does that even mean? I’m a human being, not some computer that malfunctioned.
Horror flips my stomach inside out as we enter the bedroom and I take in the various restraints on the mattress. Handcuffs, shackles…rope. Duct tape and a rag.
To the left of the bed lies a bucket and a few bottles of water.
A shudder goes through me when I spot a package of adult diapers on the dresser.
This isn’t happening. He won’t. He can’t.
“You don’t have to…” Bile lurches up my esophagus, preventing me from saying the words. “Please. I’ll do anything you want.”
Cupping my cheek with his free hand, he presses a kiss to my forehead. His touch is gentle, reassuring even. A stark contrast to all the evil seeping out of him.
“I know you will.”