I pushed the door open to Julia and Carter’s house. I’d stayed away two weeks, but here I was. I had no idea what I was doing anymore with my life and it was about time I figured it out. All I knew was, Denver hadn’t been the place for me anymore.

“Johnny! You’re home!” Julia flung herself into my arms, and I wrapped my body around her, feeling more at home than I had in weeks. She was the only one that made me feel that way.

“Hey, Jules,” I kissed her cheek and ruffled her hair. “I’m home.”

She stepped back, eyeing me. “You look like hell.”

I laughed. Only she would say that to me. Any other female in my life would be running their hands along my chiseled abs or bulging arms. “You look beautiful, but thanks.”

“Have you slept since you left? It’s been almost three weeks. And have you eaten? I can tell you’ve been living in the gym. Hugging you is like hugging a brick wall.”

Carter laughed from behind her. “Geez, Jules. Give the man a break. You’re shredded, Johnny. Been kicking some ass, huh?” He hugged me and I allowed it.

I shrugged. “I needed to get some aggression out. It was a better alternative than what I wanted to do.”

Concern flitted over Julia’s features. “No word from her?”

“Don’t,” I warned. “Where’s my niece?”

Julia smiled, thankfully letting it go. “In here laying under her play gym.” We walked into the family room, where Calia was kicking her legs and babbling. She looked like she’d doubled in size.

I picked her up, my heart melting into a puddle when she smiled at me. “You need to stop growing,” I said to her, rubbing my short beard on her face. It made her giggle every time.

I felt alive for the first time in several weeks. I didn’t need anything more than what was in this room, right now.

“Oh, here’s your mail,” Julia put a stack next to me on the couch. I sat Calia on my lap and reached for the pile. Flipping through it, I noticed nothing of importance. Most of my bills came online anyway.

I threw the pile onto the coffee table in front of me, a small paper flitting to the floor. Holding Calia carefully, I leaned over and picked it up. Opening it, I saw the same capital block letters I’d seen on the previous notes.

SHE’S ALONE NOW

What the fuck? Who was alone?

“What’s that?” Julia asked.

“I keep getting these dumb notes,” I said, folding it back up and putting it in my pocket. It was starting to piss me off. No one even knew me here. What did they want with me? And who were they talking about? Julia? Bex? “It’s nothing. Probably some punk from the bar.”

I tried to hold back the panic that was bubbling up in my chest. Who was sending me notes?

Bex

I knelt in the freshly dug dirt, my body lying over the small casket. No mother should ever have to do this, but here I was, seventeen years old and burying my child. If it wasn’t for Beau and Natalie, I wouldn’t have even been able to give him a funeral.

“I’m so sorry, Gibson,” I sobbed, my tears splashing onto the smooth surface of the casket. “I loved you. I would’ve done anything to protect you. I’ll never forget you.”

I’d give anything to hold him in my arms again. Anything.

“Come on, Bex,” Natalie said gently. She and Beau lifted me, both of them holding onto me while they lowered my son into the ground.

“No! No! Don’t take him away! Gibson!”

“Bex, wake up,” Natalie shook me and my eyes flew open. As soon as I realized she’d woken me, I narrowed my eyes at her.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

She frowned at me. “You were screaming in your sleep. You’re welcome, you raging bitch.”

She was right. For the last month, I’d been nothing but that to all of them. We’d had a fabulous tour and Halestorm was wonderful. We’d been getting some great press and it was more than likely that we’d be at least a blip on their radar after this. It was my dream come true, but I hadn’t let myself enjoy it.

It would be a wonder I’d have a band left at all when we got home to Florida. Speaking of that, we should be there anytime. I couldn’t wait to get to my own bed and off this bus. Actually, I didn’t care at all if I had no band when we got home. If they wanted to leave me, I’d open the door for them. When you’re a bitch and push everyone away, this is what happens. It’s what you want, right?

“You know what, Bex? I’ve put up with a lot of your shit over the years because I understood. But this? I don’t understand. You’ve been so terrible over the last few weeks that you have me wondering if I can continue this with you. Give me something. Explain.” When I didn’t respond, she continued. “What happened with Johnny? It’s about time you tell me. We’re going to be home in an hour, and when we get off of this bus, you’re going to stop acting like this to the only people who have ever been there for you, because if you don’t, you aren’t coming home with us.”

She was giving me an ultimatum. She was going to kick me out of our house and her life. “He was a fucking drug dealer.” There. That wasn’t so hard to say.

Natalie’s mouth opened and closed, her wide eyes trained on mine. “What?”

I nodded. “When I went with him to the hearing in Denver? They were talking about him having been in prison for drug trafficking.”

“Shit,” Natalie said.

“Right. I have no idea how he got out, or how he was going to get his record expunged, but I know what I heard.”

“Bex,” she said. “Did you talk to him about it?”

Nausea rolled through my stomach, and I gritted my teeth against it. “No. I left.”

“You left without saying a word?”

I nodded, trying to breathe through the nausea.

“But what if that’s not the whole story?”

“How could there be a different part to this story, Natalie? I won’t do it.”

She nodded. “Wow. I would’ve never guessed. I mean, he had that whole bad boy vibe going on, but shit. Never in a million years.”

Visions of his face buried between my legs, pushing inside of me, and kissing me with the most talented mouth I’d ever experienced flashed through my brain like a movie. Touching myself to the thoughts of the things he’d done to me wasn’t enough. I’d never have that feeling again.

Not to mention all of the things I’d finally shared with him and the things he’d shared with me. I’d been so stupid. I’d allowed myself to have feelings. I didn’t do feelings, and this was exactly why. I hated myself for not being able to turn off what had been switched on by him. He’d changed me, and I liked to think I changed him. We’d been there for each other. Now look where it fucking got me. I’d told him so much about me without even knowing who he really was. What if he told everyone what he learned about me? No. He wouldn’t do that, especially since I knew a lot of information on him, too. But did I know for sure?

Breathing and gritting my teeth wasn’t enough to keep the nausea at bay. Thinking of him made me sick every time. I jumped up and ran to the bathroom, losing what little I had in my stomach.

“Fuck you, Johnny,” I said to my bleary reflection.

I slammed the door to the bathroom so hard it rattled the wall to Natalie’s room. I’d care if I wasn’t hunched over the goddamn toilet again.

I had to stop thinking about him. I’d woken up horny, and I’d touched myself thinking of the last time we’d had sex. Just as I’d finished, I’d had that feeling again.

I was broken. I couldn’t even think about sex anymore without being ill.