Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
“The fuck are you doing, bro?” Rock questions.
My brows furrow, following his outstretched hand toward Axel on the balcony to find the fucker with his phone out, snapping photo after photo of the view below. A fond smile pulls at my lips. We’re not the kind of guys who need to take photos like this, so I understand Rock’s tone, but I also know exactly why Axel’s doing it.
“She always wanted to see the Opera House at night,” I respond before Axel has the chance.
The woman beside me looks my way, and I suddenly feel so fucking dirty for having her this close. “Who’s she?”
I don’t entertain her question. It’s none of her business, but it needs no clarification for Rock. The boys know exactly who I’m referring to, and I’m sure anyone who’s truly listened to my lyrics and followed the stories from our beginning would have been able to put the pieces together.
Getting up, I join Axel on the balcony and look out at the stunning view. It truly is beautiful.
“She would love this,” Axel mutters, a clear heaviness weighing him down.
“How’s she doing?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “Honestly, I don’t know. She doesn’t really open up to me much anymore. She’s hurting, but she puts on a show.”
“Always trying to be brave.”
“You know it.” He’s quiet for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh. “I know those first few years were hard on her after we left, but I thought at some point she’d settle into a new routine and find her purpose. And honestly, I’m really not sure she did. I think she feels lost, and I think she still hates me for leaving her behind.”
“If she hates anyone for leaving, it’s me,” I say bluntly, repeating the words that have circled my head for six long years. Raleigh Stone, the other half of my soul, fucking despises me. “But you’re wrong. She doesn’t hate you. You’re her big brother, and she always looked at you as though you were larger than life. As for feeling lost . . . don’t we all?”
“I don’t know, man,” he says, sipping his drink. “This . . . It’s different. She hasn’t been the same since we left. We abandoned her, and it broke something in her soul.”
I nod, knowing it all too well, but I repeat the same old excuses because they’re the only things that help me get by. “She would have been miserable following us from city to city. This wasn’t the life for her. She needs to finish high school and college, and then she’s going to forge her own path.”
“Yeah, I hope so.”
“She’s always been strong, Ax. She’ll pull through.”
His gaze shifts back to the view, and our conversation falls silent, leaving me struggling to breathe. I’ve always told myself that we left her behind for good reason, but Ax is right. We abandoned her. There’s no other way to put it.
I abandoned the girl I always thought I’d spend the rest of my life with.
Fucking hell.
The realization is like a shot straight through the chest, and before I can even get a good conscious thought through my head, I turn on my heel and stalk back to the chick on the couch. “Yo,” I say, watching her head snap up. “You still wanna get fucked up?”
She nods and gets to her feet, and not a moment later, my hand is pressed against her lower back, leading her into a private room. My manager steps into the room, guarding the door, and just like that, she slips her hand into her bra and pulls out a small bag of white powder.
“You sure?” she asks. “You didn’t seem so down before.”
I nod, feeling the desperation gnawing at my chest.
I abandoned her.
“Just do it,” I tell her. “Rack me up.”
3
Raleigh
My knee bounces as I wait for my communications class to end. I’ve been a wreck ever since I emailed my professor after my last exam, requesting a chance for some extra credit or a re-do of the exam to try and claw my way out of the hole I seem to be digging. He emailed me back saying he’d like a chance to review my work over the past year to see if my failing results are a lack of understanding or a lack of asserting myself.
He said he’d have an answer for me in a week’s time, and over the past week, all I’ve been able to focus on is the fact he suggested I’m just not trying hard enough. Because let’s be honest, it’s not that I don’t understand the coursework. I know what I’m doing, and I understand the work. Hell, I’m spending every waking hour studying as well, yet when it comes time to sit down for these exams, I just . . . can’t.