Copyright © 2024 by K.A. Knight

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Written by K.A. Knight.

Edited By Jess from Elemental Editing and Proofreading.

Proofreading by Norma’s Nook.

Formatted by The Nutty Formatter.

Art by Dily Iola Designs

Cover by Moonstruck Cover Design & Photography

PROLOGUE

“Scandal has shaken the rock world once again, with Beck Danvers’ surprise departure in the middle of a Dead Ringers performance at Warped Tour. Beck, the new lead singer, was on a sold-out world tour with the infamous bad-boy band when she suddenly stormed off stage and didn’t reappear. So far, three dates have been canceled, and there’s no news from the band⁠—”

“Beck Danvers, the drama queen⁠—”

“Dead Ringers, who are no strangers to drama, have once again made headlines with spoiled singer Beck Danvers. The mysterious new lead singer landed them in hot water⁠—”

“The question is, will the band ever recover from this? Will Beck Danvers come back for one last melody, or is she rebelling?”

Scoffing, I turn the TV off and recline on the cheap motel bed. If they only knew the truth about me.

If they only knew Beck Danvers doesn’t exist.

If they only knew I am a fraud, just like my bandmates know now.

ONE

“Ican’t deal with another fucking audition, man. They are all useless.”

“Rude,” Trav interjects.

“But true.” Kolton nods, drumming his fingers on the sticky wooden table. “They’ve been okay, but not showstopping worthy. We need raw talent, the voice to match our own, or⁠—”

“We’re fucked,” I conclude as I lean back, slinging my arm over the back of my chair. “Nobody wants to be our singer after the shit show that’s our history, and I can’t fucking blame them. We are dead in the goddamn water, and if we don’t find someone soon, our label will pull their offer and we’ll just be some washed-up rock band who could have made it big.”

“If they stayed out of trouble,” Trav mutters, shooting me a side-eye.

Swallowing hard against my guilt, I incline my head, about to apologize once again, when the sound of a throat clearing has us all jerking our heads up to check out the stage. We were so lost in our own shit, we didn’t even hear the next audition take to the tiny black stage in the bar we are using. We get free drinks because the manager has a crush on me, which reminds me. I need to throw her a fuck in gratitude—not something I do anymore but it’s necessary. I have a lot to make up for with my bandmates.

My eyes finally adjust to the bright spotlight again, and my jaw actually drops at the woman standing there, ready to audition. Her blonde hair hangs in waves past her hips, and her brown eyes pop from her thick eyeliner, contrasting nicely with her bright purple lips and pale skin. She’s tall, almost as tall as me, with huge boots that buckle to her knees. She wears a ragged band T-shirt made into a dress, with the sides of her boobs clearly on display. Tattoos are spread across her skin like a storybook.

She’s fucking stunning, and she knows it.

“Well, are you ready, or should I wait for your little huddle to finish?” she deadpans.

I feel my cheeks heat.

Who the fuck is this woman?

I must say it out loud because one dark eyebrow arches as Kolton and Trav shoot me a dirty look. “Name’s Beck Danvers. Now, shall I sing, or are you going to keep trying to shoot your eyes through my shirt to see if I’m wearing a bra?”

“Well, are you?” I ask, flirting coming naturally as I lay my arm across my chair with a cocky smirk I’ve perfected—the one that makes every woman wet and mine. She simply rolls her eyes.

Interesting.

I do like a fight. An elbow hits my gut, making me double over. I turn my glare to Kolt and see him glaring right back. “No,” he tells me before smiling warmly at her.

“What will you be singing today?”

“‘Cherry Bomb,’” Beck replies, shooting me another stink eye. “Unless that’s an issue.”

“How cliché.” I groan, disappointed. “Listen, babe, if you’re here to get close to me, fine, leave your number, and when I have time or I’m bored, I’ll call you. This is a serious audition⁠—”

“How about you shut the fuck up for once, Chase Reed. and listen to me sing? I sure as shit didn’t drive five hundred miles to have two minutes in your van, which would probably be the worst two minutes of my life.”

My mouth snaps shut in shock as Kolt and Trav double over in laughter.

“Oh, I like her,” Trav says.

“Shut up,” I hiss at him. “Fine, Beck. Take it away. Blow us all away with your incredible talent.”

“I will.” She smirks as she counts in the music.

The music starts up, and despite her bravado, she closes her eyes nervously, licking her perfect lips. Her hands shake slightly as she grips the mic. There’s a guitar around her neck, but she doesn’t touch it yet. It’s an older Fender Stratocaster, and from the coloring, I’d say it’s rare and pricey. The first note she lets out is in the wrong key, and I wince, but she carries on, getting into the rhythm and fixing it until the music flows from her. That’s when the transformation comes over her, one we all feel. Her eyes open, and her body sways along as she gets bolder.

I lean forward, my breath catching in my throat. I’m scarcely able to take my eyes off her. She’s raw, that’s for sure, and she needs coaching on stage presence and vocalizing, but her voice?

She sounds like a goddamn fallen angel.

Shit.

When the last note fades, she’s breathing heavily, and her eyes focus on us like she forgot we were here. For a moment, so did I. Trav gets to his feet and whistles, clapping.

Kolton grins and looks at me. I quickly school my expression because despite her talent, she’s trouble. I can see it a mile away. No one comes here who looks like her, with that talent, without baggage. Trust me, I know. Beck Danvers has a story, and I have a feeling it won’t end well for us. I won’t put my bandmates through that shit again.

We’ve faced enough for a lifetime.

“Nope, not her,” I snap.

“She’s good—no, she’s fucking great. I haven’t heard a raw voice like hers in years,” Kolt argues.

“She’s clearly untrained,” I protest, ignoring her.

“So we fucking train her. You were like her once. She’s powerful, good,” Trav counters, annoyed.

“You know I can hear you, right?” she drawls, and Trav grins.

“And she clearly takes no shit from you. We need that.” Without waiting for my thoughts, the two knuckleheads turn back to her and grin.

“You’re in. Welcome to Dead Ringers.”

TWO

Part of me didn’t actually believe I would do it. I didn’t think I would get into the audition, let alone become Dead Ringers’ new lead singer. I hoped, but I never . . .

“And this is the game room.” Trav grins sheepishly. “It’s a bit of a mess. We aren’t used to houseguests.” Nodding, I grip my duffle bag tighter. “Is that all you own?”

I bring my eyes up to meet his bright blue orbs, and he winces again, scrubbing at his head and mussing his styled black hair, which is shorter on the sides and longer on top. His nose and lip rings glint in the light as he watches me. He has to look down since he’s so tall. He’s skinny too, but I can see muscle peeking out from under his clothes, as well as lots of tattoos. He’s hot in that bad-boy rocker way, and he even has the eyeliner to go along with the look.

“I mean, it’s cool if that’s everything. I was just going to take it to your room for you.”

“My room?” I tilt my head. They dragged me here after the bar, barely even giving me a minute to grab my shit from the back room. I got some hasty introductions on the short drive here, but that was about it.

“Well, yeah.” He blushes hard. “Shit, we didn’t even tell you, did we? It’s in our contract. We have to live together. Bonding or some shit. It, um, came up after, well, after something happened. So you’ll be living here with us in your own room and with privacy of course. Is that okay?”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go.” I shrug, looking around. It’s true, I don’t, but sharing a house with three rock stars? This should be fun. I guess it will help me get close to them though.

“Oh, well, that’s good, I guess.” He sounds unsure. Kolton and Chase disappeared as soon as we pulled up to the grand mansion on the hill. “So it belongs to our management, but you can decorate or do whatever you want. There are a few house rules. Here, let me take that while I show you to your room.” He reaches for my bag, and I step back.

“It’s okay. I’ve got it,” I mumble, not wanting to part with a thing inside.

He blinks but nods, and I follow him out of the basement game room, around the foyer, and up the stairs. When his voice comes, it’s unsure. It’s obvious he doesn’t know what to make of me, and that’s fine, but then I remind myself I need to be friends with these people, which means making an effort, something that used to come naturally to me.

I was always a people person.

Before.

“Okay, well, no houseguests—i.e., no hookups here at all. Take it elsewhere.” He shoots me a sideways look. “That came in because of⁠—”

“Chase?” I guess with a grin, making him laugh.

“Yep, one too many crazy one-night stands who kept stealing from us or live-streaming, so management made it a rule. No drugs. None at all. That’s a band rule.”

“I don’t use.” I shrug.

We stop on the second floor, and he gestures at three closed wooden doors.

“Good. These are our rooms in case you need us.” He coughs and speeds up. “We do party, but no scandals or we lose bonuses. I think that’s about it. Oh, here is your room.” He opens the plain wooden door and sweeps inside.

I follow after him, wondering if this is where she slept—the singer who came before me.

There’s a gray upholstered bed pushed against the back white wall and two bland gray side tables with lamps on either side of it.

I see two doors, and Trav nods to them. “Bathroom, so don’t worry, you don’t have to share with us. Kolt is a mirror hog.” He smirks. “And a closet.”

Wandering into the room, I drop my bag on the unmade bed and move to the windows that take up the entire left wall from floor to ceiling. A small, circular balcony outside looks out across the city. For a moment, agony tears through me, so I turn away and swallow it down.

I can’t afford to break.

Not now, not here, not with them.

“I guess I’ll let you get settled. Just holler if you need anything. We’ve set up a meeting for tonight with our label to sign all the boring paperwork, and they will go through everything. You’ll be thrown into the deep end. Our tour was rescheduled for this year, and you only have a few months to prepare.”

“Not a problem.” I know all this already, but I don’t tell him.

I don’t tell him I don’t plan to be here that long, but I have to keep up appearances.

“Okay then.” He smiles softly at me, so warm and welcoming. “I’m glad you’re here, Beck. Remember, you are one of us now.”

“Thanks, Trav, I mean it.” I look around, and when I glance back, the door is shut and he’s gone. My shoulders drop, and I blow out a breath, looking at the room with my hands on my hips.

“Well, I made it, Terrie. What do I do now?” I grumble.

Pulling my hair tie from my wrist, I wind my long blonde hair up into a messy bun and take off my jacket, tossing it onto the bed and unzipping my bag. I might as well get unpacked.

My hand lingers on the box inside the bag. I look for a place to hide it. I don’t know if they will come in here, but I can’t trust that they won’t snoop, especially Chase, so I explore the bathroom before opening the closet. There’s a shallow shelf running along the top with spare bedding and towels, so I shove them aside and press up on my tiptoes, carefully sliding the box to the back and covering it again. Dropping back down, I grab bunches of clothes and start to hang them.

While I do, my mind wanders to the person who lived in the room before me—the one no one talks about and the reason they are on a deadline.

There’s nothing here. It’s bare, clean, and repainted.

I’m almost sad not to have that connection, but I remind myself I don’t need it. I need to focus on working, but as I unpack my one measly bag, I spot something.

Stepping closer to the back of the walk-in closet, I can’t help but smile. Carved into the door is a slanted smiley face. Swallowing, I reach up and caress the carving, wondering if she felt as alone and unsure as I do.

I wonder if they were as kind to her.

I wonder if she sat here, pouring her dreams into lyrics.

I wonder if this is where it happened.

Closing the door on the past, I turn to face my future and the three men who are waiting there.

THREE

“I’m just saying,” Chase grumbles as he lines up his shot. I watch his ball sink into the pocket and smirk. Groaning, he straightens from the pool table and grabs his beer, gripping the neck hard as he glares at the pool cue like it’s the reason he’s losing.

Chase Reed has always been a sore loser and a bit of an asshole, like now.

“I know what you’re saying. You don’t like her. Well, tough shit,” I reply. “She’s talented, and we need that. We need fresh blood, old man, so get over it.” I sink my shot as he glares at me.

“Who are you calling old, you punk? I’m only five years older than you,” he scoffs, pushing his hair back and posing like there’s a camera around. I don’t bother pointing it out, since it’s a habit for this royal prince. He’s such a poser. I hated him when I was first brought into the band. He’s a know-it-all, stuck-up bastard, but he’s damn talented, so despite all his flaws, I stuck around.

We became friends, fucked if I know how. He loves attention and spending sprees, while I prefer the quieter side of life, but it works, and Trav keeps us in check when we butt heads, but there’s always a space where our fourth should be.

It used to be Ila, Trav’s sister, who was our second lead singer, but then she decided to go solo and is killing it. We’ve had a few replacements since then, but none stuck around. Either Chase drove them away or fucked them and dropped them . . . Well, until the last one.

Tamping down the guilt and pain, I focus back on Chase, forcing a smile. I don’t want to go down that dark road again. It took me a whole bunch of fucking counseling to come back from what happened, and I’m determined to give this tour our best. It’s our last shot to make something of ourselves again.

We can’t afford to fail.

It would be the end of us all. We’d lose everything and go down as nothing but wannabes who couldn’t cut it.

“Is that a gray hair I see?” I taunt, and Chase’s eyes widen, his beer crashing to the floor as he races to the closest reflective surface and searches through his hair.

“Where? Where—oh, you little fucker!” He turns and launches himself at me. Laughing, I step to the side to avoid him.

“Getting slow. Is it your old age?” I tease.

We run around the pool table, keeping it between us as I grin and feint left. Pointing at me, he shouts, “You’re dead!”

“Sure, old man, but you have to catch me first!”

“No bloodshed inside. Take it outside,” Trav calls. “I’m sick of cleaning the floors.”

“Stay out of this,” Chase hisses. “I need to teach this little punk a lesson.”

“You are both children.” Trav sighs, and when I glance over, he’s nursing a cup of coffee, leaning against the door. “You aren’t setting a good example for Beck.”

“I don’t know, I’m kind of curious who will win,” comes a purring voice. We all whip around to see Beck curled up on one of the armchairs before the gaming TV, a beer in her hand as she watches us.

“How long have you been there?” I ask, confused.

“Long enough.” She smirks, and damn if my heart doesn’t skip a beat, especially when she meets my eyes with a knowing look. The woman is far too attractive. She could be a model, but here she is with us. When she stands and stretches, her dress rises, flashing her supple thighs. My dick hardens, and my mouth turns dry.

I know she’s bad news, and I know I should keep my distance.

Nothing good will come of this. How many times did we warn Chase away from fucking our new singers? I’m debating if I could cross that very same line now, one I’ve never even been tempted to cross.

Not until Beck Danvers.

She’s completely oblivious of the three hard gazes watching her as she saunters around the couch, the magnetism that makes her a natural singer stopping us in our tracks. She’s like a goddamn movie I can’t look away from.

“So who usually wins?” she asks as she stops next to the pool table.

“What?” I blurt, completely blinded by her.

An arm wraps around my neck and squeezes, dragging me down.

“I guess I have my answer.” She smirks.

Elbowing Chase, I feel him grunt as he tightens his grip. He’s surprisingly strong for a little motherfucker. Trav sighs and heads our way. “Break it up. No more broken bones, remember?”

“How many times has that happened?” She looks between us. “Should I be worried about you guys not being able to perform?”

“Oh, darlin’, we can perform just fine,” Chase flirts.

“I think I just threw up in my mouth,” she comments and covers her lips. “I’m going to shower. I have the overwhelming urge to scrub my skin.”

I can’t help but laugh, and Chase lets me go, glaring at her. “You would be lucky if I touched you. Others beg for a taste.”

“Good for them. You’re not my type.” The shock on his face is comical, and Trav and I lean together, watching the show. I don’t think a woman has ever turned Chase down before, never more than once either.

“I’m not your type?” he exclaims. “Impossible.”

When she just stares at him, his jaw drops again. “Not your type,” he whispers, absolutely shell-shocked.

“Well, this was delightful,” she drawls. “I’ll meet you downstairs in time for the meeting.” She downs her beer and tosses it into the bin without looking. She, of course, makes the shot as she leaves.

“I’m going to marry that girl,” I tell them.

“You aren’t her type,” Chase snipes.

“Aww, little baby, did she hurt your feelings?” I mock. “She only said you weren’t her type, nothing about us.”

I watch his mouth drop again, and I leave him there, shocked to his core and reeling.

Oh yeah, Beck Danvers fits with us.

I can’t wait for the tour.

FOUR

“Where is she?” Chase asks.

“Why? You are always late.” I smirk, and he turns to throw me a perfectly practiced glare and then flips his hair as he turns back around.

“When I do it, it’s style, but when she does it, it’s rude. Singer girl⁠—”

“Should I get you a Post-it with my name since you have memory issues in your old age?” she calls as she comes down, not stopping until she’s before Chase. Most would wither at the idea of going toe to toe with the famous Chase Reed when he’s in a mood.

“Careful, little girl,” he warns, getting in her face.

She doesn’t back down, and my tongue catches between my teeth as I take the chance to look her over. She’s changed, and the scent of peaches hits me, hardening my cock. Wearing some loose ripped jeans, boots, and a cropped shirt that ties around her back, she looks good enough to fucking eat.

“Or what, old man?” she challenges. When he’s silent, she smirks. “That’s what I thought. You keep standing there looking pretty, since the talent is now here.” She moves past him, hitting his shoulder with hers, and I cover my lips to hide my smile as he turns to glare after her, but I catch his eyes dropping to her ass, so I block the view, pointing from my eyes to his.

I might look, but I won’t touch. Beck Danvers is hot as fuck, but we need her, which means no crossing lines. We can be friends, and I can think about that tight, little body while I fuck my hand, but nothing more. Chase, on the other hand, would fuck her just to prove he could.

I won’t let him ruin this one as well.

“Behave,” I warn.

“Whatever.” He goes to step past me, so I grab his arm, tightening my hold on his leather jacket to stop him.

“I mean it, Chase. We can’t afford to fuck this one up. It’s our last chance, or have you forgotten that?”

“I haven’t.”

“Or how you owe us for all the times you fucked up in the past?” I snap.

“You said you forgave me,” he mumbles. I see a flash of hurt in his eyes, and although we understand the issues he faced and why he did what he did, it takes everything in me not to throw it back in his face.

“We do, but we won’t if you ruin this one for us, Chase, and you can’t afford to lose any more friends. We are the ones who stuck by you, so if not for the band or your dreams, then how about just for that? Please don’t ruin our dreams just because you can.” I let him go and turn to follow her out.

“I’m sorry, Trav.” He sighs. “I really am. I won’t. If you say she’s in, she’s in. I’ll behave as much as I can.”

“That’s all we’re asking, man.” I wrap my arm around his neck and drag him out with me. “She is hot though.”

He elbows me, making us both laugh.

“So, Ms. Danvers, does everything look in order to you?” Michael, our manager, asks. He’s very hands-on and a good man to have in a pinch. Michael and Rachel keep us in line. I look around, wondering where Rachel is now because she’s not in attendance, which is weird. She’s usually so picky about our choices.

Shrugging, I lean back in my chair and watch as Beck reads over the contract again before picking up the pen and signing. “All good to me. When do I start?”

“I like her.” He grins. “Take a few days to get settled, then come to rehearsal with the guys on Monday. We can alter anything we need to fit your style and voice, and it gives us time to perfect the set before the tour, which will be hitting over eighty cities worldwide.”

Beck grins. “I’ve always wanted to travel.”

“Good.” Michael grins over at us. “Good choice. Behave this weekend. If you celebrate, remember⁠—”

“No scandals,” we all repeat.

“Good, that includes you, Beck. See you all Monday.”

“Let’s go get fucked up!” Kolton grins, and when Michael sighs, he throws his arms open. “Responsibly.”

Filing out of the office, we get to the elevator before I realize Beck isn’t with us. I’m just glancing around for her when Rachel appears from the elevator. Chase holds it for her. Surprisingly, she’s about the only woman on staff he’s never tried to fuck. Who knows why. Maybe because she’s off-limits since she’s technically our manager too.

“Boys.” She grins but it fades, and I turn to see Michael bend toward Beck as they walk toward us, laughing at something she said.

“Ah, Rachel, meet Beck Danvers, our incredible new lead singer,” I introduce her.

Beck meets her eyes as they join us. “Nice to meet you, Rachel, is it?” She holds out her hand.

Rachel swallows before I see her force a smile, making my brow furrow. She shakes Beck’s hand. “And you. I didn’t know they picked someone.” She glances at us.

“Spur of the moment.” Kolton grins. “We are off to celebrate.”

Rachel sighs. “Oh, I’m working late.”

“Oh, I mean just the band.” He coughs awkwardly. “But you can come if you want.”

“No, go ahead. Just remember to behave. Beck, I will meet you more formally next week. Welcome to the band.”

Beck steps into the elevator with us as Rachel steps out to join Michael.

“Behave,” he warns again as the door starts to close, and then she meets our eyes in the reflection of the door.

“So what trouble can we get up to?”

FIVE

“I’m so glad Reign is back,” Kolton says, the news of her surprise return spreading.

“Me too.” Trav sighs. “I hope she’s okay.”

The bar we are in is quiet and exclusive. Only the rich and famous play here, so no stories can leak. The beer I’m drinking is worth more than the entirety of my bank account, but they fit right in, something I wasn’t expecting. I need to remember they are rock stars.

“What are we talking about?” Chase asks as he throws himself down on the sofa opposite me. His dark eyes watch me carefully. “How we can get in just the right amount of trouble, I hope.”

“Reign Harrow is back.” Kolton shows him his phone, and Chase’s eyebrow rises.

“Good for her.” Chase nods, surprisingly serious for once before he sits up, rubbing his hands together. “Now, about that trouble . . .”

“Hey, guys,” a dark voice says, and we all swing around to see a beefy Adonis guy in a suit standing next to our booth.

“Hey, Andrew. Saw the new movie. It looks great,” Trav tells him.

“Thanks, man, and who is this?” The man, Andrew, turns a bright smile on me, his perfect white teeth almost blinding me. He’s pretty as fuck and definitely an actor, but I just smile.

“Oh, this is Beck, our new lead singer. Beck, this is Andrew Jackson, Hollywood’s biggest star.”

Andrew scoffs but plays it up, and I nod. He deflates, watching me. “So you’re a singer, huh?” he asks.

“Yup.” I pour myself another drink as he slides into the booth next to me.

“I’m an actor. You might have heard of some of my movies.” He flexes his arm.

“Probably not. I’m more of an oldies fan,” I admit, and the horror on his face makes me hide my smile behind my glass.

“Right, uh, so have you been in many bands?” he inquires, still flirting his ass off.

“Not really,” I answer truthfully and turn back to the guys. “So talk me through the setlist.”

Trav indulges me, and Andrew eventually gets the point and grumbles a goodbye, heading to another table filled with what looks to be models. He might be trying to get laid tonight, but it won’t be with me. I can’t be distracted by a pretty face or rock-hard muscles. I have more important things to do.

When Andrew leaves, Chase leans forward. “So what is your type then, Beck, if it isn’t grunge, bad-boy me or pretty boy Andrew.”

“I guess you’ll never find out.”

He leans back, and I watch as he moves into Kolton’s side. “Girls, I knew it.”

Rolling my eyes, I kick the table at him. “I love men, especially ones with pretty faces I can ride. Just not yours.”

He chokes on his sip of beer as the others burst into laughter with me.

“You’d be so lucky,” he mutters.

“No, darlin’,” I mock. “You would be.”

“Oh yeah, she fits right in.” Kolton nods, grinning wide. “So you told Andrew not many bands. Is that true?”

Careful, Beck, I remind myself.

“A few here and there, but never found anything that stuck, you know? Either they were posers just wanting cash or pussy or we just didn’t get along. I saw your open auditions as I was passing through.”

“To where?” Trav asks curiously.

“Anywhere and everywhere. I wanted a fresh start, and I told myself I’d know the place when I found it. I guess fate had other plans.” I’m not exactly lying, and that’s the best way to get away with lies—keep them as close to the truth as possible so you don’t trip yourself up in the long run.

“Well, we are lucky you did,” Kolton admits.

Downing more of my drink, I meet Trav’s curious eyes, ones that see too much, and quickly look away. I didn’t expect them to be so nice—well, except for Chase—and it’s throwing me off a bit.

Can I really do this?

I guess I’m in too deep to back out now.

SIX

There’s a shadow in Beck’s eyes, one I see in mine every day that I bury behind the music and the lifestyle. It makes me wonder who or what put that there.

What is Beck Danvers’ story?

I shouldn’t care since she’s a good singer, one we need to make it to the top, but for a moment, I find myself softening toward her.

She’s a risk to our band, but we are all about risks.

There is a reason we chose Dead Ringers for our name.

Like she knows I see too much, she smirks at me, downing her drink, and stands. “I’m going to dance.” Unconcerned that she’s completely alone in unfamiliar surroundings, she heads right into the middle of the dance floor and starts to move to the beat. Every eye turns to her—how could they not?

Sitting back, I drape one leg across the other, my arm thrown over the back of the sofa, and watch the show.

“Are you okay?” Trav asks softly. “Need to get some air?”

It’s our code for getting me away from temptation, giving me time to work through my addiction. After all, addiction doesn’t just go away overnight. It’s a constant battle to say no. Some days are easier than others, and we’ve made it a point to stay as far away from temptation as possible, but this life goes hand in hand with the darkness that drove me to the needle in the first place.

For the first time in a long time, though, I’m not thinking about what I could numb myself with or where a dealer could be—no, my focus is completely on her.

Beck Danvers is a goddamn mystery, and I used to love mysteries, but not anymore.

She’s dangerous to everything we’ve worked so hard for, but I can’t seem to stop myself from watching the show she puts on. She’s completely oblivious to every single person watching her with need and envy. It’s like she exists in her own world, free of judgment and rules. I envy that. I want that.

I want the freedom and ecstasy I see on her face, something I used to find in the high of my addiction, but here she is, mostly sober and dancing like no one cares.

How does she do it?

“Nah, I’m good, man,” I admit, sipping my beer.

“You sure?” Trav worries, watching me with concern before he glances to the side. I follow his gaze to see someone snorting coke off a woman’s chest in the dim corner. Usually, that would send me fleeing, but not tonight. Tonight, I want to stay, so I harden my resolve, ripping my eyes from the sight and back to Beck. I allow her to distract me from the clawing ache at my insides demanding I join them.

Trav and Kolton have seen me fall off the wagon more times than I can count, but this time I’m determined to stay clean. I won’t wreck my life or theirs any further. It’s been six months, and so far, so good. I see them share a worried look, one I was always too fucked up to notice, but I ignore it.

“What do you think her story is?” I ask over the music.

“Who knows, but she’s exactly what we need,” Kolton replies.

“But can she perform?” I retort. “Has she ever been on a stage? We didn’t check that shit.”

“We didn’t have time since you kept chasing off the good talent,” Trav grumbles. “But I like her. I have a good feeling about her.”

Something in his tone makes me look at him. He’s watching her, and I see his eyes soften and flame with desire. Shit. Trav never fucks around, not after . . . Well, he doesn’t. When he feels, he feels hard. Something aches in my chest as I watch him watch her, because why wouldn’t she fall for Trav? He’s the whole package. He’s a good man, he has his life together, and he’s practically a fucking saint for putting up with me for so long. I want him to be happy. He deserves it.

I tell myself it’s because of the band. If they broke up, it would ruin us, and we can’t afford that.

It’s the only reason I do what I do next—to protect them. “We should make a pact. No touching this one.”

“What?” Trav spins on me, his mouth agape.

“We can’t afford to lose Beck if she is as good as she seems. It’s our last chance, and there isn’t room for mistakes. So a pact, we don’t touch her.”

“That would be a you problem,” Kolton scoffs, but I see him shoot her a sad, longing look. “But fine, a pact. We don’t fuck Beck. Trav.”

We both look at him, and his eyes go back to her before dropping. “For the band,” he murmurs.

“It’s done then. Beck is off-limits. Now, let’s finish our drinks. Tomorrow, we’ll work on getting her stage ready.” I grin with glee, knowing just how much she will hate it.

“I don’t like this new side of him,” Kolton whispers to Trav, even though I overhear. “He was more fun when he was an addict.”

I flinch, knowing he didn’t mean to hurt me, but it cuts into my chest, ripping open the insecurities I’ve fought since I was a child.

I’m too old, too outdated, and no longer talented.

I’m a boring workaholic.

Closing my eyes, I fight through them, trying not to fall back into old habits. A noise startles me from my meditation, and all three of us leap to our feet when we realize it’s Beck.

There is a guy grinding on her and pulling her back, even though she tries to pull away. “She can handle it herself,” I tell them. We aren’t her boyfriends, and we aren’t even her friends. We are just bandmates and barely even work colleagues.

“We should help.” Trav and Kolton start to head her way when Beck turns in the creep’s arms and, with a feral smile, smashes her head into his. He stumbles back with a yelp as a chuckle bursts out of me.

“Told you,” I comment, even as I watch her mouth move. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but it’s clear she’s reaming the guy out. He pales, looking ashamed, before fleeing, still holding his head.

I can’t help but grin widely when she flips him off with both hands as he runs. Tossing her hair back, she turns to find us all watching and rolls her eyes, storming over.

She smirks at us. “Don’t worry, I’m stronger than I look.” She tips her beer back, draining it all before wiping her mouth. “Time to go?”

I smirk. “Time to go, pretty girl.”

“Don’t call me that,” she warns, “or you’ll end up like him.”

“Promises,” I tease, unable to help it.

The rise it gets out of her is better than any drug.

Trav elbows me on our way past. “Pact,” he hisses in my ear.

“I didn’t forget,” I grumble. “Come on then, rock star, tomorrow is the start of your training, and trust me, you’ll need all the sleep you can get.”

Like always, when my door is shut and the world is quiet, the sky shining brightly with the moon, my demons come, chasing me from the sheets until I find myself in the kitchen. No one told me fighting my addiction would lead to me becoming an insomniac. Usually, I grab a pen and pad and head outside, spilling everything I hide onto the paper into lyrics no one will ever hear, but after I make herbal tea, I find myself at the back window, my eyes widening.

Beck is already out there, wearing nothing but a long, oversized Dead Ringers T-shirt with her hair in a messy bun, her bare, pale legs glistening in the moonlight. She looks so alone and lost, the shadows almost concealing her from me.

She stands in the darkness, in the silence of the middle of the night, alone and hollow.

I know because that’s how I feel.

My body and skin are no longer my own, since so many lovers and needles made it their home.

Holding my mug, I watch as Beck wanders aimlessly around the garden, an old-school Casio on her ears. She seems sad, her shoulders hunched and eyes downcast. A better man would go out there and see if she is okay, but it’s not my issue. I need to mind my business and not get too involved.

That’s how we ended up like this in the first place.

Gripping my mug, I leave her to her demons and prepare to fight my own until the sun rises.

For a moment, I want to stand with her and help her fight her battles so she won’t get lost like I did, but my fists and soul are already scarred from fighting so many, and I’m so tired of it.

I don’t even have the strength to fight my own battle, never mind hers, so I turn away.

I leave her there alone, seeking solace in the night, and I slip between my sheets, my soul crying out to be saved.

I’ve always been damned.

It seems Beck Danvers is as well.

SEVEN

Gritting my teeth, I keep my eyes straight ahead as I’m circled by the sharks. In this case, the Dead Ringers’ wardrobe department. There are three women and a man standing around me, picking me apart like I have no ears, and I have no choice but to endure it. Everything is on a tight deadline because of the upcoming tour, so I had to get up at the ass crack of dawn for appointments. First hair, then makeup trials, then earpiece fittings and equipment, and now this.

I’m exhausted and cranky, and these fuckers didn’t even bother to introduce themselves. They just hustled me into the sitting room and made me stand on the chair while taking my measurements and making notes on iPads. I’m coming to hate those fucking things. I know they are only just doing their job, but fuck, where’s the compassion?

I feel like an object, not a person.

Is that how she felt?

“So I’m thinking we do something gothic but high-end.”

They talk between themselves.

“No more band shirts. I’m thinking skin-tight dresses⁠—”

I’m losing every part of me.

I remind myself this is what I signed up for.

I have no say. To them, I’m a mannequin, an object to dress.

“Keep her style.” My eyes jerk up to see Chase leaning into the doorway, one leg crossed at the ankle.

How long has he been watching?

My mouth goes dry at the sight of him, and he looks at the gathered sharks. “Her style is raw, grungy, and real. Keep it. Enhance it if you want, but don’t change it too much. It wouldn’t be Beck.” He pushes from the door and wanders away.

I watch him go, my mouth slightly open.

He stood up for me. He likes the way I dress.

“Well, fine, what do we do now?” one of them mutters, but I’m still staring at the empty doorway where Chase just stood. Why did he protect me? Chase hates me, and it’s clear he doesn’t want me here, but he knows they need me. Is that the reason?

Maybe he’s trying to be nice to get me on his side, but something tells me Chase is not nice to anyone. Unsure what to make of it, I refocus on the team trying to nail down my style for the upcoming tour.

“How daring do you want to go?” one asks, waiting with her iPad at the ready.

My eyes go to the door once more, my heart skipping a beat.

That’s the question, isn’t it?

“Ms. Danvers?” she prompts impatiently.

“All the way.”

Escaping the prying eyes and commands for a moment, I hustle to grab a coffee, needing the kick more than ever. Peering around the corridor to see if they are looking for me, I almost jump out of my skin when a whisper sounds in my ear.

“Who are we hiding from?”

Clutching my mug and heart, I turn to find a grinning Kolton close behind me. “Wardrobe,” I admit.

“Ah.” He nods, jumping backwards and hoisting himself onto the counter, swinging his legs as he grins. “You get used to it, trust me.”

“Is it always so . . . ?”

“Invasive?” he offers with an arched brow and easygoing grin.

Sighing, I lean into the counter next to him. “Yes.”

“Always.” He nods. “I remember the first time, I had to strip down to my boxers and let them inspect me.” He shudders. “There was an older guy then, and he was rough and used to touch us inappropriately. They are good at what they do, and you don’t want any wardrobe malfunctions while you’re diving around the stage, trust me.”

“Did that happen to you?” I’m unable to stop smiling.

“Once,” he admits with an adorable blush. “My pants split, and I had to play the rest of our set with my ass hanging out. There are still memes on the internet. I will never live it down.”

“Whoa, poor baby.” I grin, grabbing my phone. “I’m looking these up.”

He grabs for my phone, but I dart out of his way, laughing when I find them. I set one as my lock screen and show him. “It’s a nice ass.”

Groaning, he covers his face. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Says who?” I counter truthfully.

His hand drops as he eyes me, the silence stretching on as he searches my gaze.

Does he see the truth?

For a moment, I’m sure he does.

“Ms. Danvers,” I hear someone yell, and it breaks the tension.

Groaning, I down the coffee and search for somewhere to hide before looking at Kolton with pleading eyes. “I seek sanctuary.”

“Nope, no can do, sweetheart. You are on your own.” With a wink, he hurries out.

“Ah, Kolton, have you seen Ms. Danvers?” The woman is much more cordial and almost nice to him. Figures.

He chuckles. “In the kitchen.”

“Traitor,” I call as I hear him laugh and retreat just as a woman rounds the corner.

“Ms. Danvers, we are ready for our next outfit. This way.” She gestures for me to follow her, and with no choice, I do as I’m told.

Once back in the sitting room they turned into a dressing room, I let them hurry me back to the middle of the space and into the next outfit. This time it’s to get management’s approval of the outfits, but I don’t even get any privacy. They tell me they need to know my body to dress it, but it feels so invasive, my skin crawls.

“This scar, we will need to cover it,” the man comments.

“No,” I snap, putting my foot down, knowing which one they are talking about. It’s on my side, and it’s all I have left of her.

“But—” He starts to protest, and I meet his eyes.

“I will wear what you say, do what you say, but we do not cover that scar, understood?” I warn.

He recoils slightly but nods, and I turn back, stroking it for a moment before I drop it and let them see so they will understand, but of course, they don’t.

They are so blind.

It will ruin us all.

EIGHT

Sitting on the sofa, squeezed between Chase and Kolton, I roll my eyes as they jostle, trying to take up the most room. Rachel is typing away on her tablet while we wait for them to finish dressing Beck. It has to be approved by everyone, including us, and I’m excited to see what they chose for her tour outfits.

My foot taps impatiently as I hear her grumble, and it makes me smile.

When Beck comes out, my jaw drops.

She was beautiful before, but now she looks like a rock star.

I hear them talking as they explain the first outfit and when she’ll wear it, but I ignore them and stare into her nervous eyes. They are lined and completely shaded with black eyeshadow, making them pop, and her lips are a soft pink. Her hair is in messy beach waves, hanging down to her hips, and around her neck is a spiked collar with DR proudly emblazoned on the front. My eyes dip to her body, and my dick hardens as I gape.

She has on a deep V-cut bra, her breasts almost spilling out. So much of her pale skin is exposed. Over the top of the bra and matching black panties is a fishnet body suit, with long sleeves and legs going right into platform boots.

She looks like a rock star’s wet dream. How the hell are we supposed to perform with her looking like that? I can barely speak, never mind sing, and my hands ache to touch her, not my drums.

“Jesus,” Kolton whispers.

I want to reply, but I can’t speak around the lump in my throat as she smiles at me like she knows my thoughts.

“I love it,” Chase states roughly, breaking the silence.

Rachel sighs in displeasure and all eyes turn to her. “I don’t know. I don’t think it works.” She frowns, eyeing Beck. “She looks cheap.”

I expect Beck to shrink under her gaze, but if anything, she stands taller. “Well, I’m wearing an outfit worth more than yours, so . . .” She shrugs.

Rachel’s eyes narrow as I cover my chuckle with a cough. She’s always been so judgmental, and although I know it’s because she cares, that wasn’t cool. “Amusing, fine, this one can stay. Oh, you need to cover that scar. We represent the fantasy of perfection.”

“No,” Beck argues. “The scar stays. It’s my body and my choice. We aren’t just a fantasy, we are people, and that’s what they want. They don’t want to look at us and just think we’re perfect, untouchable beings. They want someone they can relate to. They want to know we are people too, and that our music is real. This isn’t just a show we put on for money, but because we can’t do anything else, and we are right there with them through the good and bad. That’s rock and roll. I thought you would have known that.”

I glance at Rachel, who narrows her eyes. “Cover it,” she commands.

“No,” I say, frowning at her. “She’s right, keep it. It makes her real. Without it, she’s too perfect. She looks like a model.”

Beck grins at me, and I ignore Rachel’s glare. “Next outfit?” Beck asks, and we all groan. Chuckling, she ducks behind the curtain.

“How the fuck do we survive all the outfit changes?”

“Pact,” Kolton grumbles.

I turn to look at him and find he has a pillow over his junk. “Maybe remind yourself.” I smirk. “Huh, Chase?” I elbow him and turn to see him grabbing a pillow too. “Jesus fucking Christ.” I groan, dropping my head back.

“Well?” Her voice makes me lift my head, and I bite my tongue so hard I taste blood.

She twirls, and the tiny silk slip flares out, showing the lacy shorts underneath. The deep red-and-black lace slip hugs her figure, barely covering her ass. All I can do is nod, and they swiftly push her back inside to try on the next outfit.

This one is a long, baggy band T-shirt they made into a dress, the sides completely gone.

The outfits get better and better until all three of us are sweating and holding pillows in front of our jeans. I don’t know how we’ll survive the tour, but when she steps out again, I lose all hope.

“This is for the new rebranding, the album work, and the posters,” they begin.

Across her pierced nipples are X’s made from black tape, and she has on a thong and nothing else. She turns, and I swallow my fucking tongue. Down her spine is an arrow, which points at our logo situated just above her ass. Standing, I throw the cushion and flee, unable to stay any longer.

I can barely see where I’m going. I hit the first room and lock the door, realizing it’s the downstairs bathroom. Shoving my jeans down, I grip my cock.

My grip is tight as I remember her twirling in the skirt, the hint of her nipples, and the curve of her ass. I work my dick hard. My balls are already tight just from the memory, and my loud pants fill the room as I spit in my hand and stroke my cock harder.

Would she look at me with flashing eyes and a cocky smirk while I sank into her tight pussy? Would she scream?

Fuck!

Groaning her name, I spray my hand and the sink, the orgasm storming through me.

Fuck. Breathing heavily, I wash up and shove my dick back in my jeans. When my heart stops racing, I open the door and step out, only to freeze when I see Chase storming from the room with Rachel on his heels.

She grabs his arm before he hits the stairs, and he frowns at her. “What’s up?”

“Are you sure about her?” Rachel asks, moving closer to Chase. “I can get rid of her if you want. She doesn’t seem like the right fit.”

Chase frowns down at her hand before stepping back. “The band voted, so Beck is in. Do as she asks.” He hurries upstairs with heat in his eyes, and I know exactly what he’s going to do.

I watch her as her jaw ticks and she spins away with a huff. For a moment, I notice the venom on her face before it transforms to a bright smile when she sees me. “Everything okay?” she asks.

“Sure, is everything okay with you?” I ask, leaning into the wall.

Sighing, she clutches her iPad. “Yep.” It’s too bright, too fake.

“You don’t like Beck, huh?” I question, needing to know what her issue is. She’s never been like this in the past, and she cares about the band more than anything, so it must be Beck.

I need to figure out why because we can’t have anything getting in the way of the tour.

“I’m just worried,” she admits. “We can’t afford another mistake. It will cost us our jobs. I don’t want to see you all get hurt, and you know you’re like family to me. Plus, she’s so . . . combative.”

I soften toward her, knowing she means it. She’s always had our best interests at heart and tries to protect us. She has always stood with us, so if she’s worried about Beck, it’s only because she cares.

“Give her a chance.” I squeeze her shoulder. “Trust us, we need this, and so does she. I promise if she hurts the band in any way, I’ll be right there with you, but we have to give her the benefit of the doubt.”

“Of course,” she replies. “You’re right. I’m sorry. With⁠—”

“I know.” I get it. After everything that happened last time . . .

Well, it’s understandable.

“Come on, cheer up, we have a sold-out tour coming up.” I grin, making her giggle. “It’s time to make history.”

Hooking my arm across her shoulders, I steer her back into the dressing room where a pained-looking Kolton is sitting, clutching his pillow like a lifeline as Beck poses and he checks the outfit.

He turns to me with pleading eyes. “Help,” he whispers.

Sitting heavily, I lean into him. “I’ll suffer with you.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to walk again,” he grumbles, our eyes locked on her perfect ass.

“Walking is overrated,” I whisper.

“Definitely,” he agrees.

NINE

I’m exhausted. After spending all afternoon in fittings, I had another meeting with management before they finally let me go when it was dark. I crawled to my room and collapsed, needing silence to regroup after being on for them all day.

Tomorrow, we shoot promo videos and pictures, so I need to be rested, but after showering and changing, I find myself staring at the ceiling. My mind whirrs, even as my body begs for it to shut off.

Closing my eyes, I try to count backwards. When that doesn’t work, I open them and close them again, trying to hum to myself, but lyrics don’t come. Instead, memories do, and I give up. I reach under my pillow and grab my headphones, putting them on carefully, then I rewind the tape I was listening to last night and hit play.

Settling back, I close my eyes and focus on the sound and nothing else.

It takes me far away from reality.

“Hey,” the voice starts, as soft and familiar as my own heartbeat. “You’ll never guess what happened today⁠—”

I fall asleep with her voice in my ear like a lullaby, missing her like I’m missing the other half of me.

Sitting between Kolton and Chase, I hunch in on myself. Kolton shifts to give me more room, but Chase just moves closer, opening his legs wider to touch me. Rolling my eyes, I meet Trav’s amused gaze across from me. I have on a loose shirt and shorts, my face makeup free and my hair undone, ready for them to attack me like yesterday.

The boys are in sweats as well. Kolton’s hood is up, his eyes closed since it’s so early. They are used to this, but me, not so much.

“Here.” Trav hands over a travel mug. “You’ll need it, trust me.”

Taking a sip of the overly sweet coffee, I smile in thanks. “So what should I expect today?”

“There will be no paparazzi since we are shooting outside of the city without warning. We’ll be there for hours, and they will bark orders at you.” Trav sighs. “Basically, they will tell you what to do, so don’t worry. By the end, you’ll want to die, but it’s worth it.”

“And if you get bored, we can always shoot some raunchy content.” Chase smirks.

I elbow him, making him grunt, and then open my thighs, taking up my space again and making him squeeze into the doorway. “Man-spread somewhere else, asshole.”

“Jesus, did anyone tell you that you have anger issues? My therapist would say you should talk your feelings out,” Chase grumbles.

“You have a therapist?” I ask in shock.

His jaw ticks, and he glances out of the window. “Addiction requires healing and talking, so yes, I have a therapist.” He turns his dark gaze on me, making me want to shrink. “Problem, pretty girl?” It’s an insult this time. He’s ready to fight.

“Not at all, that’s very healthy of you and not what I expected at all,” I admit and then glance back at Trav. “So today is just a promo shoot. What does that mean?”

Chase groans. “Fuck, are we going to have to teach you everything?”

“Shut up, old man,” Kolton grumbles. “Remember when you went to a shoot and thought it was live? We all started somewhere.”

“We don’t have time to teach her everything though,” Chase snaps, breaking whatever truce existed between us. He was nice to me all day yesterday, and I didn’t know how to handle it.

I’m better with his venom. It makes it easier.

“Well, make time,” I say. “You need me, remember? You chose me, and I’m doing the best I can here.”

“We know,” Trav interrupts, glaring at Chase who huffs and looks away. “Before the tour, we do promo shoots to help advertise, and since we need a new album cover, we’ll do that and merchandise photos as well. Everything is riding on this tour, so they aren’t sparing any expense. There will be billboards, posters, advertisements⁠—”

“So don’t fuck it up,” Chase interrupts.

Can he still sing without balls?

“So make sure to smile,” Trav says over him, “but we’ll be right there with you. It will be okay, and then tomorrow, we’ll practice. We negotiated for a stage we used when we first started. It’s soundproof and private, and it will give you a good idea of what to expect so we can fit in your performance and work on it. We only have a few months until we leave, and the first time can be terrifying, so we’ll work through any kinks. Don’t worry at all.”

Nodding, I sip the coffee even as butterflies take flight inside me. Why didn’t I think so far ahead? I’ll have to perform. Unless I’m done before then, I’ll have to sing in front of thousands of people who are judging me and wondering who I am.

Fuck.

Chase is right. I’m going to fuck up.

Kolton squeezes my hand like he senses my thoughts. “You’ll do great, Becks,” he murmurs. “Just do what you did in front of us. We can fix the showman side, but not the talent side, and you have natural talent. Everything will be okay. You’ll see.”

TEN

Iwas poked and prodded for hours once we reached the studio. I’ve already been told they can edit anything in post-production, including the background since they scouted areas, but today is about the base, about us, selling sex and perfection.

Rock and roll, baby.

When I’m placed in front of the camera, I seize up. I don’t mind photos, but with all the lights and people watching, I can barely breathe, positive they can see right through me to the truth. My heart races, and I know the smile on my lips is more of a grimace, especially when the photographer leans around his camera and frowns at me.

“What’s wrong, Beck?”

“Oh, um, nothing,” I respond, my voice tight. “Sorry, I’m ready.”

I swallow my nerves and try my best to smile, but after a few clicks, he sighs. “Okay, this isn’t working. Do you hate photos or something?”

“Uh . . .”

“You need to relax and make it look natural. No one will buy an album where you look terrified. You need to own the camera. You look constipated⁠—”

“Enough,” Trav barks, and a hand suddenly hits my shoulder and spins me until I face my new bandmates. Trav looks worried, Kolton looks annoyed, and Chase looks confused.

Great, more prying eyes.

Trav kneels, blocking anyone from listening. “Relax, that’s it, just breathe for me.” I suck in a breath like he instructs as he takes one with me. “And let it out. Good, again.” I breathe slowly, calming my racing heart. The heat of his hands in mine centers me. I still feel eyes on my back, but Kolton and Chase move to block anyone from seeing me.

They are protecting me, but I don’t know why.

Maybe they are just worried I’ll storm out and they will be up shit creek again, but not Trav because I see worry in his gaze. He’s unable to hide it. “That’s it, keep breathing and ignore them. There is no one else here. Just us.”

I nod and breathe slowly until I slump. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s a lot, and he’s being an ass,” Chase scoffs behind me. I peer up to see his back to me as he glares at anyone who dares to approach. A quick smile graces my lips, and I hear a click of the camera, which startles me.

“Stop it,” Kolton barks loudly.

“Hey, Beck, look at me, okay? Only at me.” I focus back on Trav’s kind eyes. “Ignore them. They aren’t here. Picture the camera as someone you love, someone you are trying to seduce, or even someone you hate, whatever works for you, but remember, they are here for you, not the other way around. This is your time, not theirs. Fuck what they think, and fuck the overthinking happening in your head. You don’t need to be perfect, you just need to be you, and if you can’t do it today, then we can leave and try again later.”

“Really?” I whisper, knowing that would get them in trouble and cost millions.

“Really,” he promises.

I look into his kind face and shake my head. “No, I’m okay. I want to try. It’s just . . . a lot.”

“I have an idea.” Standing, he squeezes my hand. “Wait here.”

Unable to do anything else, I drop my head back, and it hits the backs behind me. I jump, ready to move. “You’re fine,” Chase says, surprising me, so I relax back, just breathing as I lean on them. I hear Trav whooping, but I can’t see what’s happening.

“Okay, turn around, Beck.” I do, and when I tap Kolton and Chase, they move aside. I blink in shock. The entire team of bustling people, all staring or on their phones, is gone. All that’s left are the guys, me, and the photographer, who smiles at me.

“Shall we try again?” he asks kindly.

Whatever Trav said to him clearly got through, so I relax as I look around, realizing there is no one to laugh or judge. When they move behind me again, I nod confidently.

“Let’s try again.”

Trav hurries back as we get into position, and this time I feel calmer.

“Focus on the lens,” Trav murmurs behind me. “Look through it and pretend.”

Someone I love. Someone I want. Someone I hate.

That’s not hard.

I focus on the lens, not the photographer, and let my expression transform. “Great! Good! So good, Beck, keep that!” The camera clicks as he moves around. “Okay, another pose.”

And so it goes. With each picture, I relax more, until a genuine smile covers my lips. I have to look stern, sexy, and aloof. We try it all. The guys work the camera, owning it, and when I glance at them, my mouth goes dry.

Trav’s head is tilted back with a smile flirting on his lips, looking every inch the nice guy but still unattainable.

Chase wears a smug smirk as he looks up at the camera.

Kolton has one hand on his lip, pulling it down slightly.

Jesus fucking Christ, they look like sex incarnate, but when Trav grins at me when he catches me staring, I realize they might act like it, but they are still human. Behind the carefully posed photos is the truth—Trav’s kindness, Kolton’s insecurity, and Chase’s addiction.

They are people, and that relaxes me even further, knowing I am as well.

We have our flaws, but here, we can be the perfection people crave but isn’t real.

Hands hit my shoulders as I tilt my head and smirk like they instruct. We do so many different poses, my body aches.

I even start to enjoy it a little, laughing when they pick me up and lay me across their arms or when they lie down and I put my heeled foot against them—not that I would tell them that. Glancing down my leg to my heel, I meet Kolton’s eyes. They are hot with desire. He blinks and it’s gone, but for a moment, I saw it, and when he turns his head, his hand sliding up my ankle to grip my thigh, and places his lips on my foot, I know it’s for me and not the camera.

This seems to call off all bets because Chase sits up and rests his head against my side, his hand sliding up to grip my neck. Trav slides closer, sitting at my feet and arching his back to look at me like a puppy, but there’s a wicked grin on his lips I didn’t expect, and when he grabs my hand and slides it down his shoulder to his chest, I swallow hard.

They are taking advantage, but I can’t seem to care.

“Relax, pretty girl.” Chase smirks up at me, his whisper low. “It’s just for the photos.”

Right, the photos. I had almost forgotten.

Unwilling to look meek before them, I play back even though I shouldn’t. I should draw a line, but I can’t seem to back down when it comes to them.

Taking Chase’s hand, I slide it under the dress so it’s hidden for the camera. What they don’t see is that it’s on my thigh, right at the top near my pussy. His eyes widen for a moment before they smolder, and his grip tightens as he holds me. Lifting my foot, I press it to Kolton’s head like I’m pushing him away, flashing leg, then I slide my hand up and grip Trav’s throat, tilting his head back.

I smile for the camera, looking completely in control.

We get a few more poses like that, with them touching me while I push them further, unwilling to back down, until we are all breathing heavily and glaring at each other.

“We’re finished! Well done, that was such a good shoot!” The photographer’s voice interrupts our staring contest.

A grin of victory covers my lips as I kick Kolton off my foot and release Trav. Without a backward glance, I walk off the set, knowing they are watching me.

What they don’t see is me locking the bathroom door and pressing my back to it.

My heart races as I clench my thighs in want and hate.

Fuck!

ELEVEN

Iwatch Beck go, my cock uncomfortably hard, as foreign feelings of desire tug at me to follow her and finish what we started. My hand curls into a fist to trap the heat of her skin, and it takes me longer than I want to admit to shake it off.

I see the others watching, too, before they seem to realize something and glance at me.

Panic filled me for a moment before I met Beck’s eyes, and then it seemed to fade. Sometimes, even when the guys touch me, I jerk away, but I reached for her first, expecting I wouldn’t be able to do it. When I touched her soft, bare skin, though, something relaxed in me for the first time ever.

I don’t tell her that she’s the first person I have voluntarily touched or let touch me, but I know the others sense it, and they are watching for my freak-out. Once, after a show, a fan posed with us at the meet and greet and grabbed onto me. I managed to stay for the photos but ran back to the green room and had a panic attack. They found me hyperventilating and scrubbing my skin.

From that moment on, they have never let anyone touch me without my permission.

They never asked, and I never told them—they simply adapted.

I owe them for that, but I can’t meet their eyes now and explain why Beck is different.

I don’t know, other than it felt right to touch her. With her above me, looking so beautiful and perfect, I needed to see if she was real, and when she met my eyes and I saw her want there, I felt like a real fucking man for the first time ever. I felt undamaged and needed, and for a bit, just a little bit, I wanted to be the man who can touch a beautiful woman without memories destroying him, and today, thanks to Beck Danvers, I got to be that man.

I will always owe her for that, and she doesn’t have a clue.

“Let’s look at the photos,” I say, trying to ignore the unspoken questions. It switches their focus to the photographer and distracts them, thank fuck.

The photographer turns the camera as he flicks through, showing us our options. “Fuck,” Chase mutters. “Some of them are amazing.”

“We’ve never looked so good.” Trav grins. “All thanks to Beck.”

“I wouldn’t push it that far,” Chase grumbles as he continues to scroll through until he lands on one of the first pictures we took.

It’s Chase and me with our backs to Beck, and she’s peeking around and smiling up at us. Trav is moving away, his hand still linked with hers. It’s cute as hell, and I take the camera from him, careful not to brush him with my fingers. “I like this one.”

“It doesn’t meet the brand’s criteria, but it’s nice,” the photographer agrees.

“Print that one for me,” I murmur softly.

“Uh, I think we’ll go with one of the last ones,” he says, and I meet his gaze.

“Not for the promos, for us. Print that one.” Unwilling to meet their examining eyes, I head back to the dressing room.

“Well?” Chase demands when the line is silent.

Beck sits squashed between us again as we are driven from the photoshoot. We have the rest of the day free, thank fuck. “What did you think?” Trav repeats. We know the photographer sent some examples to our management.

“They look great,” Michael gushes. “They are exactly what we are looking for. You look perfect, Beck. Aloof and sexy but down to earth.”

“What about us?” Chase asks.

“You always look good, Chase,” he says. “I like them. We’ll get them edited.”

“I feel like the last shots are too sexual,” Rachel says calmly.

“Huh? Really?” I lean into the phone, even though they can’t see us. Trav rolls his eyes and moves to give me more room.

“Don’t be silly. They are perfect,” Michael interrupts. “Sex is part of rock and roll, plus it’s not obscene. We’ll go with them. Rest up and have fun—not too much fun—and practice tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” Chase says as Trav hangs up. When Chase looks at us, he wiggles his eyebrows.

“What should we do for fun?”

Beck groans, knowing him well enough to understand it’s probably something that will get us into trouble. I can’t help but smile at her.

“Oh, I have an idea.” Trav shoots off a text. “Trust me, you’ll love it.”

“A karaoke-style diner?” Chase gawks, turning to us in disgust. “I was thinking drinking.”

“We know.” Trav claps his shoulder. “This is better. Come on. Food and a show, what could be better?”

He grabs Beck’s hand and leads us inside. I follow with a shrug as a bewildered and angry Chase stomps after us. There are stars and photos everywhere when we get inside. It looks like a fifties diner, but as we linger at the seating podium, my mouth drops. There are multiple floors, and it’s bright and chaotic with a strip between the booths in the middle. As I watch, a lady belting out Whitney Houston dances across it, laughing with customers as they eat.

Holy shit, this place is cool.

“For five?” A smiling guy in a bow tie rushes over, grabbing menus. “We’re busy today, but I think we have a booth in the pit. Follow me.”

Trav tugs Beck along, who is gawking, and we slide into a slightly sticky leather booth, craning our necks to see the woman singing and dancing right next to us. “I’ll be back to take your order shortly, but enjoy stardom.” The man winks and hurries away.

We all ignore the menus, watching as the lady bows, and we clap as it changes to another song. We glance up to see a big guy singing in a deep voice up top, hanging over the railing and waving at everyone.

Beck grins. “This place is epic.”

“They better serve booze,” Chase grumbles, but he’s sitting up taller and watching the man.

There’s one thing musicians can’t resist—music.

Melodies beat in our hearts, and lyrics race through our blood. We are born with music in our souls.

It’s not something you can ignore, not even Chase.

I grin when I catch his fingers drumming on the table along to the music. We order distractedly, watching the performance, and when I glance at Beck, she’s smiling widely, totally carefree. Trav made a good decision. This is more than drinking and partying. This is bonding with someone we are going to end up very close to.

Her foot hits mine, and I startle. “Sorry,” she says and tries to move her foot back, but I spread my legs in the booth, placing my feet on either side of hers and capturing her shoe so she can rest comfortably. She smiles at me and turns her attention back to the stage.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, our excellent singers are going to take a break now, but in the meantime, do we have any guests who want to perform?”

“Oh, Trav.” She elbows him, and his hand jerks up. He quickly tugs it down, but it’s too late, and the lady on the mic hurries over.

She grins. “Did I see a volunteer?”

Trav blushes, sinking down as Chase and I chuckle. Beck rolls her eyes at us. “Some rock stars, scared of a little diner rush. Fine, I will.” The lady hands over the mic, and Beck leans over Trav to whisper to her. I watch Trav’s eyes drop to her breasts. She’s completely oblivious as she sits back, and the lady hurries away.

Moments later, music starts up. It’s a Reign Harrow song, and Trav smiles, winking at her as she starts to sing and climbs to her knees, singing to us before standing. Trav holds her hand, helping her up as she climbs onto the stage. She leans down and blows us kisses as we laugh, watching her twirl and wave at guests as she belts out the song.

The guests start to clap, and cameras come out. I don’t blame them. Her voice is perfect, and you can’t help but join in while also wanting her attention on you.

She’s a star through and through.

She was made for the stage, and we were made for her.

When she spins back to us, she offers me her hand with a hopeful look in her eyes. The crowd starts to chant, and I lay my hand in hers. She grips mine, the warmth giving me confidence as she tugs me up onto the stage before turning to Chase.

He narrows his gaze on her, so she rolls her eyes and grabs Trav. A server appears and gives us more mics as we join in. I move around the room, the natural feel of the stage loosening me up. I sing to tables and laugh with them, and when I glance back, Beck is before Chase, and we trail off, letting her hit the chorus. Her back bows as she drops back for the high note. She stills then, offering the mic to Chase.

There’s an audible sigh, and then he leans in, singing the next line with her.

Grinning together, they climb up onto the stage as we join and work our way back until we stand in a line, with Chase and Beck singing into the same mic, their bodies pressed together. When the last note fades, people leap to their feet, chanting and clapping for more.

We stand there grinning, and when I glance at Beck, she is smiling so broadly my heart leaps.

Oh yes, she was made for us.

Beck Danvers was born to be a Dead Ringer.

TWELVE

The sound of my phone ringing wakes me from a deep sleep. Hitting my side table, I search for it blindly and drag it back under the covers, leaving my face pressed into the pillow as I hit it until a voice sounds.

“Beck!”

I just grunt.

“Great job!”

I groan, half asleep.

“Beck, are you there? It’s Michael.”

“I’m here,” I mutter, trying to force my eyes open, but they won’t, so I just relax as he speaks again.

He sounds way too chipper for this time of morning.

“You guys did a great job. The videos of you guys dancing and singing at that diner have gone viral. Tickets sold out, and we upgraded venues due to the interest. You guys are going to do amazing on tour! Get some more sleep.”

I blink as the call ends.

What videos?

Rolling onto my back, I hold my phone more securely. I crashed as soon as we got back last night. We performed for a while at the diner, and then we took pictures and signed autographs, which was a surreal feeling. I tried to just let the guys sign, but they weren’t having that. After they showed me some tourist traps in the city—places I’d never visited—we stumbled back here in the middle of the night, sober but happy.

Loading up TikTok, I search the band’s name and gawk at the millions of videos and reposts. The top one shows us singing “I Need a Hero” while we dance around the diner with the guests and have fun. I saw the phones, but I didn’t expect . . . Jesus.

I scroll through them all. They captured everything. There’s even a video of me flirting with Trav to get him to come dance with me, and I hit the comments, ready to swallow my pride and be destroyed. There are a few negative ones, since Trav is looking at me, but there are some really nice ones that confuse me.

Wow, she’s so beautiful :)

Is she the new lead singer?

Who is she? She’s so talented!

Wow, look at the way they look at her, BookTok anyone?

BookTok? I tilt my head but keep looking.

She better be their new singer. She’s so good! I’d hit that!

It goes on and on, and when I open Beck Danvers’ Instagram, my eyes widen. I had eighty followers yesterday, but today, I have two and a half million. What the ever-loving fuck?

I go to Dead Ringers to see their page, which reposted the videos with the caption, “Beck Danvers, the Dead Ringers’ newest star, rocks!”

Holy shit.

My door bursts open, and I drop my phone. Trav stands in the doorway, grinning as he hurries inside. “So you’ve seen it!” He jumps onto the bed, making me bounce as he lies back, scrolls, and turns his phone to show me a photo of Chase and me singing together.

“Wow, that looks hot.” I’m still a little shocked by it all.

“Of course, I’m in it,” Chase drawls, and I turn as he strolls into my room. He glances around before sitting on the edge of my bed.

I quickly shove the cassette player deeper under my pillow and drag the sheet up higher, wrapping my arm over it to hold it.

Moments later, Kolton appears. He sits uncomfortably at the end of the bed, but he smiles at me. “It’s so good. It’s been a long time since we had good press, Beck. Our numbers will be tripling by now. People are excited for us to be back.”

“Hmm, apparently one of our songs is becoming the official song on BookTok, whatever that is—oh, look at this.” Chase turns to show me a book excerpt video with our song over the top.

“Holy fuck, did that say orgy?” Trav gasps.

“Oh my sweet summer child,” I say, patting his hand.

“Oh, is that normal in books?” he asks, confused.

I nod. “Women like to read porn.”

“Do you?” Kolton asks seriously, making us gape at him. “What? I’m just curious.”

“Sometimes,” I admit with a smirk.

“If you ever need a hand, pretty girl—” Chase starts, and I kick him, knocking him off the bed as he groans.

“I was trying to be helpful.” He climbs up and glares at me.

“Either way”—Trav glares at Chase—“management is happy and so are we. We didn’t do it for views, but it’s nice to see our fans talking about us again and not about what shit we have gotten up to in a bad way.”

“I’m glad,” I tell him, unsure what to say with all of them in my bedroom.

“Let’s get breakfast to celebrate,” Trav suggests, bounding from the bed and looking at me hopefully.

“Great idea.” Chase follows, as does Kolton, and they pause at the door, waiting for me.

“Come on, it’s breakfast time!” Trav insists.

“So . . . I’m naked under here,” I admit when they wait.

“Oh!” Trav’s eyes widen.

Kolton coughs and rubs his neck.

“How naked?” Chase leans in, gripping the sheet.

I kick out, and Trav grabs him, hauling him back. “Just come down when you’re dressed.” They close the door, but I still hear Chase.

“What? I wasn’t going to look . . . much.”

Shaking my head with a laugh, I hurry to get dressed before they burst in here again.

After breakfast, which was a feast, I dressed in some comfy cargos, boots, and a cropped Dead Ringers shirt, and they whisked me off to the band rehearsal space they secured. There were cameras outside of the house, and I was gobsmacked at them trying to get to the car to get pictures.

The guys ate it up, but I just sat there, confused.

Is this my life now?

Surely all of those prying eyes will get to the truth.

I try to swallow my panic and not let it affect me. They will ask what’s up, and I can’t exactly tell them. Luckily, the rehearsal space seems to be a well-kept secret and offers us privacy. Built upon the side of the river, the warehouse seems partially abandoned but has a new lock and security system. There’s a mapped-out stage inside, as well as instruments and equipment, and a seating area of mismatched couches to the right with a bar and small kitchen.

“What is this place?” I ask as I spin around.

“Our rehearsal space. We actually broke in here to practice when we first started out. We couldn’t afford a space, so when we signed, we negotiated with them to rent this place for us, and we did it up a bit. It felt wrong not to rehearse here, since it’s where we started,” Kolton answers.

“Oh,” is all I can say. I never expected that to be the answer. I never expected them to be sentimental either, but it’s clear this place means a lot to them, and as I move around a post, I see Polaroid pictures covering every inch of one side. I stop to look them over.

There’s one at the top from when they just started. They are smiling, and they look so young. The farther down I go, the tenser their smiles become, until they seem to disappear. There’s more at the top with one girl, but it changes a lot as the pictures progress.

Lead singers.

My heart stops, and I crouch to search the recent ones, but there aren’t any. It’s as if they stopped . . . or tore them down.

“You coming, Becks?” Trav calls.

“Coming,” I whisper before clearing my throat. “Yeah, sorry, coming.” I round the post and force a smile. Chase watches me with a confused glare, but the others seem oblivious.

Clearing my throat, I hesitate at the area they mapped out. I sang for them and with them at the diner, but we’ve never performed together. They gave me their set list and lyrics, and I’ve been memorizing them as quickly as I can, but I feel like a spare part as they set up, moving together in sync.

When Chase notices, he sighs, grabs my arm, and pulls me over to the mic. “Don’t worry about anything else right now. When we’re on tour, we’ll have sound checks and mics, but for now, we’re going old school. Just sing and perform. The walls are soundproof, and there’s no one around for miles, so relax, pretty girl, and show us why we picked you.”

“He’s right,” Trav says, and Chase snorts and walks away as Trav sets up the mic for me, lowering it as I fidget. “Relax, it’s just us here, and we don’t expect you to be perfect. We are here and have time to practice before tour, and that’s what we’ll do. What song do you want to start with? We’ll have to practice all of them, since we might need to adjust some chords to match your voice and choreography.”

“We should also add some new songs with Beck,” Kolton adds as Trav moves over to the drums. I blink at him, and Kolton grins. “You’re really good, Beck. It would be a shame to just play the released songs when you had no input in them, but that’s something we can discuss later. Okay, pick a song, and we’ll start playing. If we need to restart, we can, so don’t worry.”

“Hurry up, I’m bored,” Chase drawls, and that annoys me, chasing away my nerves.

“How about we start with ‘Crazy Girls?’” I snap, and when Chase smirks, I know what he’s thinking—I’m one of them, the ass—but I like the angry lyrics, and it was one of the first I was easily able to remember.

“Sounds good. Okay, so on that one, you have a count of thirty before you come in,” Kolton tells me, and then they start to play. This piece is a bit softer than some, and although it’s still rock, it isn’t all screaming and jumping around, thank fuck.

The drums begin, and I count, but I must miss it because they stop. “Shit, sorry,” I mutter, unable to meet their eyes.

“Here, let me help since you’re useless,” Chase mutters. He moves in front of me before the mic, and they begin playing again. Chase nods at me, and I take that as my signal and start to sing. I stumble over the lyrics but keep going until I even out. When the song is done, I wince.

“That wasn’t—” Trav starts.

“Fucking terrible?” Chase snorts. “You’ve got to feel the music, pretty girl, feel the lyrics. Let’s go again. Stop second-guessing yourself. Jesus, just fucking relax or this won’t work. You’re as stiff as a corpse.”

“Maybe because I’m staring at your fucking face,” I mutter, and he bursts out laughing.

“There she is. Okay, let’s try again. We’ll keep practicing until you get it right, but we don’t have all year.” They start up again, and I take a deep breath. This time, I sing as Chase nods, and I work through the song. When it’s finished, I wait.

“Definitely better,” Kolton murmurs.

“On the second chorus, I think Chase should join in.” I hesitate for a moment. They probably don’t want my opinion, but they asked. “I hit that higher note, and he goes low.”

“Let’s try it.” Chase shrugs. “You’re just desperate to sing with me again.”

Staring into Chase’s eyes as we sing is an experience, and when the lyrics fade, Trav whoops. “That was so much better! You were right. What if you go higher again on the second to last line? I think your voice would suit that better.”

“Sure.” I nod at him, knowing I need to make this work for now.

I won’t admit it’s a little fun. “There’s a part on the chorus where it goes, ‘Calling me crazy just like a snitch . . .’” I hesitate. “I think we should change it to bitch because it fits better.”

“Sure.” Chase shrugs. “Kolton wrote this one anyway, so it’s all you.”

“Fine with me,” Kolton replies. “I could never get that part just right anyway. Let’s try it.”

We do, over and over, until I can move around the mic as I sing, watching the guys perform. It’s magic, and when it’s over, they are happy.

“Okay, next song,” Chase murmurs as I groan. “How about we work on the big number, ‘Sticks & Stones?’ It’s going to be the hardest, so we may as well get started now.”

I nod reluctantly. He’s right, and the first run through is terrible. It’s the hardest song for sure and the one I’m most uncertain about. Chase and I end up arguing after the third try, and Trav and Kolton get involved until we call time out.

We keep trying, though, and it ends up sounding less horrendous, but I’m glad we have time to practice before the tour—shit, there I go, thinking I’ll be there then. Hopefully, I won’t, right?

By the end of the day, my throat aches and my entire body hurts—I don’t even know why.

I’m sitting in the living room when a mug is thrust at me. “Here,” Chase snaps.

I take it. “What is it? Poison?”

“If I wanted to kill you, pretty girl, poison wouldn’t be my style. Honey tea to help your throat,” he mutters. “It helps with mine, plus we need you in top form, not sounding like a dude.”

What an ass.

I glance down at the mug and smile.

THIRTEEN

For the next few days, we work on the tour list from sunrise to sunset. We have to tweak some things, so I’m glad we practice, but with her singing, it works well. She’s so talented and has a good idea for things that would trip us up. The atmosphere is tense, though, and everyone is tired. Chase is particularly grumpy.

“Again,” he snaps. “Stop fucking getting it wrong. Are you dumb?”

“Stop being an asshole for two seconds and let me work it out and I won’t get it wrong,” she argues.

“We don’t have time to hold your fucking hand. Either get it or leave.” He gets in her face, and I jump up.

She squares up. “You need to shut your fucking hole for two seconds or help,” she hisses.

Sighing, I put my arm between them. “Take a break,” I tell them both. “Get some fresh air, and we’ll try again. We have time,” I remind Chase, “and we will get this.”

“Stop being on her side just because you want in her pants, man,” Chase growls. “She’s not going to get it⁠—”

“Stop,” I bark. “You’re being an asshole. Take a walk.”

Nostrils flaring, he stomps off as Kolton sighs. “I’ll go after him.”

I nod and then turn to Beck. “Ignore him. We’ll get this, okay? Just have a drink and relax. I’ll go after them and make sure he’s not killing Kolt.”

I jog after them, and once we’re outside and out of view, I slam Chase to the ground.

His eyes widen as he struggles to his feet, kicking me back. “What the fuck, man?” he shouts, dusting off his shirt. “This is ridiculous.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Stop with the attitude, and stop giving her shit. She’s helping us and trying her best. You’re being an asshole for no reason.”

“Here we go again, on her side⁠—”

“No, I’m just not on yours,” I argue. “Get your shit together, Chase, because right now, she’s being a better team player than you, and we don’t have time for this. If you want us to succeed, then you have to learn to work together.”

“He’s right,” Kolton says calmly. “She’s trying, Chase. Why are you so annoyed?”

Grinding his teeth, he glances away. “Fine, I’ll be nicer,” he replies reluctantly.

Kolton sighs. “Chase.”

We wait for him to speak again, but something else fills the air, coming from the open door to the warehouse. We all turn as the soft music reaches us. Frowning, I move closer, staying quiet so I don’t spook her. I hide behind the door and peek around to see Beck. She’s sitting on a chair, strumming Chase’s old guitar, and as I watch, she starts to sing.

It's not one of ours.

It’s not a song I’ve ever heard before.

The melody is fast but soft, and the lyrics reach into my chest and tear my heart out. I can’t look away. I can’t even speak.

“Holy fuck,” Kolton blurts.

Beck’s head darts up, her eyes widening as she stands before carefully putting the guitar down. “Sorry, I thought you guys were gone. Look, Chase, I’m sorry, okay? I’m trying.”

“I know,” he says, watching her. “What were you singing?”

Her eyes widen, and her cheeks heat. “Oh, uh, nothing.”

“That wasn’t nothing. What was it?” he asks, his arms crossed.

Sighing, she looks to me for help, but I stay silent. “Just something I wrote a while ago. I know it’s not very good. I was just trying to fill the time⁠—”

“Not very good?” Chase frowns. “Pretty girl, that was fucking excellent.”

“Oh, um, thanks. Anyway, what should we practice next?” She tries to change the subject, moving to the mic once more. “I think I can get the hang of⁠—”

“Beck,” I say, moving closer. “You wrote that?”

“I mean, yeah, a while ago.” She shrugs.

“You write your own songs?” Kolton grins. “Epic!”

“No, no, just some lyrics, nothing like you guys do. I’m just a singer, nothing else.” She looks away.

“There is no such thing as just a singer,” Chase mumbles, “and they weren’t just lyrics. That was a song, and an amazing one at that. What else have you written?”

“Can we just practice please?” she begs.

“Why? Why don’t you want us to know your songs?” I ask, truly confused.

“I don’t write anymore, okay? I can’t. Can we leave it at that?” We all see the panic in her eyes, and I nod.

“Sure, let’s practice.” I let it go for now because Chase is right. She’s hiding something, and I’m betting my ass that something is the reason why she doesn’t write her own songs anymore.

Which is a fucking tragedy because they deserve to be heard.

She could go solo with lyrics like that.

Fuck.

Are we going to lose Beck Danvers?

Why does the thought hurt my heart?

FOURTEEN

When Chase suggests he needs a drink after practice, I’m on board. I need to drink away the look in their eyes when they heard me sing. Nobody has ever heard my lyrics before. I’m such an idiot. Did they figure out what they were about?

Did they figure out the truth?

They keep giving me looks, so I down another shot, needing to forget today. I started to relax and get complacent, but that’s my own problem, not theirs. They are just trying to help me. I mean, people would kill to be in my shoes.

I end up dancing most of the night away, not wanting to be around them.

Girls flock to their table. Kolton ignores them completely, Trav smiles and talks but keeps his distance, and Chase eats it up, drinking more and more.

I leave them to it. They are adults, so they can do whatever the fuck they want. I don’t care.

I lose myself in the music, letting it wash my worries away until there’s a tap on my shoulder. I turn to see Trav, his eyes bright, but he appears sober-ish. “Kolt and Chase are hammered. Can you help me get them home?”

I turn to see Kolton sleeping with his head on the sticky table while Chase takes more shots, swaying all the while. “Shit.” I follow Trav, moving to Kolton since Chase is an ass.

“I’ll get Kolt. You get Chase.” Trav pushes me aside. Frowning, I move reluctantly to Chase.

“Time to go.” I hit his side none too gently.

Chase’s blurry eyes meet mine. “Not a chance, pretty thang. I’m having a good time.”

“Uh-huh, come on.” I pull him to the end of the booth, grabbing his jacket and mine. “Home time.”

“Fuck off. I want to party and fuck,” he slurs before burping. “Unless you want to party?”

“As tempting as that is, no thanks, you’re too drunk. Let’s go.” I hoist him up and drape his arm around my shoulders.

When I turn back, Trav has Kolt, and we manage to make our way outside without much fuss. There’s a car waiting, and I shove Chase inside before climbing in. He drapes himself over my lap, resting his head on my knees. I roll my eyes as we head home, but when he turns his head and nuzzles into my chest, I smack his chest and turn him away.

“Stop,” I tell him, “or I’ll dump your ass on the floor.”

“But you’re so warm,” he whines, nuzzling into my body and sighing. I ignore the sharp stab of desire and drop my arms across him since there’s nowhere else to go. He wraps himself around me.

“You smell so good, Beck.”

“You’ll regret this tomorrow,” I tell him, but I brush his hair back from his face, and he blinks one eye open.

“Nope, you’re pretty,” he slurs.

“Uh-huh.” I nod, looking out the window.

“Tell me I’m pretty too,” he whines, biting my side. I inhale and push him away. “Beck.”

“Shit, okay, you’re pretty too,” I mutter.

“I don’t think you mean it.” He sits up and pokes my cheek. “Mean it, Beck.”

Sighing deeply, I turn to look at him. “Chase, you’re very pretty. You’re the prettiest rock star in the entire world. Better?”

He frowns, his brows furrowed, before he grins. “I knew you wanted me.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Trav mutters. “Can we go any faster?”

Chase leans in, hiccupping. “I’ll tell you a secret, Beck,” he whispers loudly. “I want you too.”

“Is that right?” I smirk. “What other secrets can you tell me?”

“Well, there’s the time when I caught Trav watching you⁠—”

I groan when my seat jerks.

“Shit, sorry, Beck,” Trav says, his tone laced with embarrassment. “I was aiming to kick Chase.”

“Mean.” Chase pouts and leans in. “I had a dream about you last night. You were singing to me while I fucked you.”

“Chase, Jesus Christ!” Trav barks.

“He’s going to regret this so much,” I comment as I stare into his bright eyes. He’s almost fun, almost nice, and definitely more relaxed and open. Was this what Chase was like before drugs? Before fame?

He’s almost . . . cute.

“What?” Chase covers his cheeks, which are flushed. “Did I say something bad? Am I a bad, bad boy? Will you punish me, Beck?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

I laugh and turn away, trying to stop myself.

“I made her laugh,” he whispers loudly. “That’s good. Girls like funny men. That’s why Kolt never gets pussy.”

“Hey,” Kolton slurs. “There’s the neighbor’s cat. She really likes me.”

Chase laughs. “Not that type of pussy.”

When I look back at Trav, he has his hand over his face. “God save me,” he begs.

“I’m your god.” Chase hiccups. “Beck, you should call me God from now on.”

“Hmm,” I hum as we pull up outside. The door opens, and Trav helps Kolt out, while I help Chase out. Both seem to have sobered up a little, but they are still drunk as hell, and when I turn to get my stuff, I hear Trav swear. Glancing back, I see Chase and Kolt chasing each other around the driveway.

Trav stomps after them. “Damn it! Stop! Come on, man,” he says. I lean against the car, just watching him chase them until he throws his hands in the air.

Putting my fingers to my lips, I release a loud whistle, and they all turn to face me. “Alright, boys, time for bed. Come on, if you’re good, I’ll tuck you in.”

Chase and Kolt share a look before darting inside, giggling as they fight each other to get upstairs.

“Thank you,” Trav mutters.

“You’re welcome. Come on, help me get them into bed so I don’t find one of them in mine or something.” Inside, I find Chase’s shoes on the stairs, his jeans at the top, and a shirt just inside his open door. When I step into his room, he’s face down with his bare ass in the air, half hanging off his bed as he snores.

“That isn’t something you see every day,” I whisper, pulling my phone out and snapping a picture.

Trav snorts, tossing a blanket over him before shutting the door. Kolt is in bed and already asleep, so we just shut the door. Sighing, we lean against the wall.

“If this is what it’s like having kids, I don’t want any,” I admit.

“You handled them well.” Trav grins. “How about a drink?”

“I could use one. Chase’s bare ass is burned into my brain.” Barking a laugh, he takes my arm and steers me downstairs. In the kitchen, I leave him to make drinks while I kick off my shoes and drop my stuff on the chairs. I slide the patio door open and head out to the huge, curved chair. Crawling onto it, I settle back. Trav appears and hands me a drink, then he disappears again, but when he comes back, he tucks a blanket around my legs and climbs in next to me with his own drink in hand.

“Thanks,” I murmur, looking at the starry sky, unsure what to say now that it’s just us. With the others around, there’s always a buffer between us, but here, in the dark, as the quiet of the night wraps around us like a spell, I feel like he’s too close.

The buzz of city life seems far from here now, and I can just imagine that we are a normal couple—I mean friends, not rock stars, enjoying the quiet night.

“I like this time of night. It makes anything seem possible.” He smiles softly, and it transforms his whole face. Trav is truly beautiful, one of the best-looking men I’ve ever seen in that friendly, comforting way. “It changes every minute, but the comfort of it always remains. The night is the same, no matter what city we are in, and I like that.”

I smile, taking a sip. “That’s a nice way to look at it. I’ve always liked the night because it’s quiet and I can just be alone.”

He chuckles. “That too.”

We lapse into comfortable silence as I snuggle into the blanket he brought. My hands get cold from holding the icy glass, and I blink when he takes it from me, wraps his jacket around it, and hands it back without a word.

Trav is a huge green flag, unlike Chase, and if I were a different person in a different life, I would want to fall in love with a man like him.

He’s kind, which is something I’ve never really known. Love always hurts in my world. It always turns bitter and ends, leaving me alone.

“It always reminds me of my sister.” I startle at his voice. He’s not looking at me, though, so I watch his profile, his strong nose and sharp cheekbones. “We always sat outside at night, no matter how old we got. It was our time. We even made time for it when we became famous. When she left, I did it anyway, but it was never the same. I missed her like crazy. No one ever fit with us since her, not until you.”

I force a smile when he glances at me.

“No one?” I prod, knowing now is the time to get more information. He opened the door and reminded me why I’m here. It’s not to make friends or to become famous.

“Not really. We got along with a lot of them, and we are still friends with some. Well, the ones Chase didn’t fuck, drop, and annoy, but they just didn’t click, you know? Either this life was too hard or they argued with Chase. I mean, you do that too, but you can hold your own with him. I don’t know. Something just felt right from the moment I saw you.” He blushes, an adorable shade of pink coloring his sharp cheekbones, and I look away.

“That’s sweet.” My voice sounds wrong. “What about the one before me? I never asked what happened to her.”

I wait with bated breath, and even the night freezes.

Everything in me screams for him not to lie to me, and when he speaks, I feel disappointed in him. Part of me hoped he would tell me the truth, that he would be my friend. He seems like such a good guy, but maybe he’s just like the rest.

“Oh, uh, it’s complicated, but yeah, she didn’t fit either.”

“Right.” Standing, I down my drink and hand it back, wearing a fake smile on my lips. “Thanks for the drink. Night.”

“Wait, did I say something wrong?” he calls after me, but I’m already gone. I head straight to my room, and when I glance out my window, I see Trav still sitting there, looking dejected and confused.

Turning away, I sit on my bed, pull the recorder out, and hit play at a different part.

“It’s great here, so good. I . . . Yeah, it’s good but a lot. The people can be kind of brutal. You wouldn’t believe the shit they say and do. The rich really are on another level.” The laugh is so familiar, it hurts. “I always thought this was what I wanted, but it seems so hollow without you. I miss you. I miss you so much.”

Tears gather in my eyes as I fast forward and press play. Sobbing reaches my ears. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m so lost and alone. Everyone is turning on me, and I’m scared. I don’t know what to do. I wish you were here. I wish it more than anything. I want to come home, but I know I can’t, not ever again.” She sniffles, and my heart breaks. “I’m so lost,” she whispers. “I can’t, can’t do this anymore.” I hear the sound of cars, and I swallow hard. “I’m sorry.”

I shut the tape off, unable to listen to the next part.

I’ve only listened to it once, and once was enough.

She is the reason I’m here—the dark secret they are keeping.

She is the reason Beck Danvers was born, and she is the reason Beck Danvers will die.

Just like she did.

FIFTEEN

I’m sipping my coffee, enjoying the silence, when Chase appears. His signature smirk dances across his lips, and he’s wearing nothing but some basketball shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. I’ll admit that I stare a little. I’m only fucking human, and Chase Reed is utter perfection. The only problem is, he knows it.

He saunters in and practically poses for me as he pours himself a mug. His muscles flex, drawing my attention to the ink on his skin begging to be traced. His impressive eight pack and V leads down to his half-mast dick.

The man is sin incarnate.

It’s no wonder Chase became famous. Without even being able to sing, he would be praised for his looks and labeled a god. I’m not immune, he’s hot as hell, and in another lifetime, I would have ridden that just for the experience.

He sits down opposite me, still smiling away, looking as bright as a fucking daisy.

“It’s very annoying that you don’t get hangovers, Chase,” I comment, glaring at him.

Leaning across the table, he smirks at me as his gaze drops to my lips. “That’s God to you, remember?”

I lean closer, making it look like I’m going to kiss him, and he stiffens. “You wish.” I sit back, watching his lips thin.

He places his arm over the back of the chair and watches me. “I remember you calling me pretty.”

“Only because you wouldn’t shut up.” I shove more cereal into my mouth.

“Sure, tell yourself that. The truth is, pretty girl, you want me.” He stands, and I gape at him.

“You are so self-absorbed⁠—”

“Your nipples are so hard, they are cutting your shirt. I also see your pretty thighs clenching when you don’t think I’m looking. I’ve been desired by many, Beck, so I know what it looks like.” He grabs an apple and takes a bite, letting the juice drip down his chest. “But keep staring, I like being watched.”

I bet he fucking does, but I refuse to let Chase scare me away or get the upper hand.

This is a game, but I was never good at following the rules. Instead, I rebel. I stand and head around the table. Holding his gaze, I lick his chest, tasting the apple before biting the other side of the fruit that’s not in his mouth. His eyes widen as I pull back, taking the apple with me as he gapes. “I will never fuck you, Chase, but feel free to watch me too. We both know you like to. Oh, and keep dreaming about me because it’s the closest you will ever get to me.” I saunter away, leaving him staring after me.

Game on, baby.

Despite the guys drinking their body weight in alcohol, they are showered and ready to go by eleven. I completely forgot about the interview today, and when we reach the studio where it’s being filmed, nerves fill me. I’ll be on national TV, broadcast around the world. Everyone will know who I am, and I won’t be able to hide anymore.

I made this decision, though, and I knew what I was getting into, so I follow them inside through the back door and to the dressing rooms. There are two, and the guys take one while I take the other, pacing across the carpeted floor.

I can’t do this.

Fuck. I slap my cheek and glare at myself in the mirror.

You can and you will, I remind myself. I need to remember why I’m doing this. Nothing else matters. Dropping my head, I take a deep breath just as there’s a knock at the door. I allow the air to fill my lungs for a moment before letting it go and lifting my head. I paste a fake, welcoming smile on my lips when they knock again.

“Come in,” I call.

A beautiful woman with an epic head of curls saunters in. “Hi, I’m Sasha. I’ll be your stylist today. I’m the intern, but I have your outfit and the shots of what they want your hair and makeup to be like, if that’s okay.”

“More than okay with me. I’m Beck.” I hold my hand out, and she shakes it while hustling me to the chair.

“We don’t have much time.” She grins at me in the mirror. “Luckily, you’re already beautiful, but let’s make you killer, alright?”

“Sounds good to me.” I grin. “Paint me with some war paint.”

She peers at me, then a grin curls her lips. “I think we’ll get along just fine.”

I let her work, and we fall into a comfortable rhythm. I ask her about her life, and she answers while working. I tell her a little bit about mine as well. “So what’s it like with the guys?” she asks.

“What? Have a crush?” I tease.

She laughs as she pins a curl back. “Nah, not my style. Don’t get me wrong, they are sexy as hell, but something tells me they are already taken.”

I’m not sure what she means, so I just grin while she watches me knowingly. “Okay, and done,” she says thirty minutes later.

My makeup is gothic and moody, and I love it. My hair falls in messy curls with bits pinned to make devil horns. It fits the black, see-through dress with red heels I’m planning to wear so well.

“It’s incredible, Sasha,” I tell her honestly. Makeup and hair are art forms not many can easily master, and she made it look effortless.

“Thank you for being so nice to me. I’m only an intern, and most don’t want that,” she says as she fluffs my hair.

“Well, tell them I want you every time. You did fucking amazing. It’s the best I’ve seen, plus you’re nice. That’s better than most stylists I’ve met. Besides, Sasha, I’m new to this too, so fuck them.”

The grin she gives me is wide, and I return it. “I will.” She steps back and nods. “Knock them dead, Beck.”

“Oh, I plan to.” I wink as she packs up her stuff. “See you later.”

Once she’s gone, I strip down to my thong and press the X’s on over my nipples before shimmying into the knee-length dress, which flashes skin when I turn. The heels lace up, and once I stand, I give myself a once-over in the mirror.

A complete stranger is staring back at me.

Gone is the brown-haired nobody with a broken heart, and in her place is a rock star. I realize I don’t know myself anymore.

I’ve lost who I am along the way, but it’s something I need to do to get what I want, so I turn away and swallow my fear.

When I open the door, the guys are already there, getting mics placed on them. I step in line and let them secure it on me before we are quickly hurried to the curtains near the stage and deposited there. I shift nervously, looking out at the live crowd as the reporter reads the news and weather.

This is really fucking big.

It’s my first time on TV being introduced as Dead Ringers’ new lead singer. I can either sink or swim, and I don’t know which I want to happen. All I know is that this is important for more than the obvious reasons the guys are hyped for.

This is life or death. This is the difference between everything I’m doing being worth something or it all being a bust.

If I have to fake a smile and wave, I will.

I can fake it all.

“Five minutes until we introduce you,” a man wearing a headset tells us.

“Where’s Trav?” I ask with a frown.

“Oh, he said he forgot something in the dressing room and went back.” Kolton looks around. “That was about ten minutes ago though.”

“I’ll go find him.” I hurry away, jogging as I head backstage and to the dressing rooms. Once there, I knock on the door, but there’s no answer, so I swing it open.

I freeze at the sight before me.

Trav is bent over the dressing table, his face red and eyes wide, and in his gaze, I see a plea for help.

SIXTEEN

Idrop my eyes in shame, my skin heating even more. I can’t catch my breath, my lungs screaming. My head spins with all the possibilities, screaming at me to hide. My hands shake as I try to brush my hair back in the hopes she’ll never find out.

Chatter reaches me from outside, and I whirl in panic, knowing they will all see me like this.

Weak.

Just as quickly as the door opened, Beck shuts it and heads toward me, stopping just a few feet away. “Trav, what’s going on?” she asks softly.

“Nothing,” I reply, but my voice is too high, too panicky.

Fuck!

I try to control my breathing and remind myself of my positive affirmations like I was taught, but nothing is working, and I start to drown in her eyes, losing myself to my anxiety.

I never told anyone how bad it is, and even the guys don’t know. It’s only gotten worse after everything that happened, and knowing this is our last shot and we can’t blow it almost has me hyperventilating. My anxiety isn’t always obvious. It’s a quiet nagging in my brain that leaves me shaken and unsure. Sometimes it’s manageable, sometimes it’s fleeting, and then sometimes, like this, it takes over my entire body.

Sometimes it controls me, and nothing works—not the pills, the drops, or even the fucking crystals. It’s just me, battling my own intrusive thoughts.

“Trav.” She tries to take my hand, but it’s sweaty, so I yank it back and stumble away. Fear and shame are my companions. Fuck, how can I be so weak? She’ll think I’m such a pussy. The guys will find out. Everyone will know, and they’ll laugh, then we’ll fail again, and it will all be my fault.

“Hey, stop, look at me.” Her voice tries to pierce the fog, but it’s no use. “Trav!” she snaps, cupping my cheeks. The warmth of her hands causes me to look at her. “Look at me, focus only on me. Breathe with me, okay? In, hold it, and out.” I watch the rise and fall of her chest, trying to copy her. “That’s it. What can you smell?”

“What?” I croak.

“What can you smell?” she asks, forcing my gaze to hers when it wants to bounce around.

“Lavender, you always smell like lavender.”

Her eyes widen but she smiles. “What can you hear?” she asks gently.

“My heart beating . . . The hum of the crowd.” My voice is a bit stronger, and the attack is receding slightly.

“Good. What can you see?” she questions.

“You, I see you.”

Her lashes flutter for a moment, and when her voice comes, it’s husky. “What can you feel?”

I search her gaze.

“Trav, what can you feel?” she asks, her voice drowning out the one inside my head.

“Your soft hands on my skin, your dress brushing against me, the slightly itchy fabric of my shirt,” I trail off.

“That’s it, keep breathing,” she says.

It takes me a minute or so, but when I can finally breathe again, shame fills me so badly that I step back, letting her hands fall. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, avoiding her knowing eyes.

“For what?” she asks.

“For being so stupid. For making us late. For you having t⁠—”

“Stop. You never have to apologize, and definitely not to me. It’s not stupid at all. I know anxiety well, Trav. I suffer from it every day of my life. Take a minute, okay? I’ll be outside making sure no one bothers you, and if you can’t do it today, then fuck them. We’ll come back. We’re Dead Ringers. They can work around us.” She pats my shoulder and marches outside like a soldier heading to battle, standing outside of my door.

Maybe it’s the out she gave me, the ability to feel my anxiety, but a small smile flirts on my lips as my shoulders relax.

I look back at the mirror and blow out a breath. Wiping down my face, I push my hair back into place and slow my racing heart. I have to get it together.

I won’t let it beat me. I can’t.

If Beck can do this, then so can I.

I emerge with my casual smile and slouched shoulders. No one will ever know anything happened apart from Beck, and she says nothing as she walks beside me back to the guys.

“Where the fuck were you, man?” Chase asks.

“I couldn’t find my mic,” I lie.

“Yeah, it took us a while, sorry.” Beck pulls their attention to her. “So who gets to flirt with the interviewer?” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“Thank you,” I mouth as they turn away, laughing and joking as we wait for our cue.

“Anytime,” she whispers, nudging my elbow with hers.

“Many might remember our next guests as the band reaching for the stars—the up-and-coming rock and roll stars intent on stealing your hearts, and probably your panties. With a tragic past and some questionable actions, everyone has been wanting to know if they will ever make it work. Will they come back swinging, or will they falter under the pressure? Well, it seems like we have our answer. With a new lead singer, a whole new look, and a sold-out tour, they are planning on rocking. It seems our heartthrobs are back and better than ever.”

Taking a deep breath, I stand taller, refusing to show one ounce of weakness under the stage lights.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to the one, the only, Dead Ringers!”

With a wide smile, I follow the guys out. We bow and wave. Chase winks and Kolton blows kisses as we sit. The music kicks up a notch, and the crowd gets to their feet as Beck makes her big entrance.

I was so lost in my own head earlier, I didn’t even notice how beautiful she looks.

She is always beautiful, even dressed in rags, but now she’s even more so, and she owns it.

She strolls onto the stage and poses for the crowd before heading our way and draping herself over our laps. Hiding my grin, I hold her leg and slide her dress down to protect her modesty.

“Wow, what an entrance! You must be Beck Danvers!” Sonita, the interviewer, remarks as the crowd eats it up.

“We just call her hot stuff,” Chase teases as Beck throws her head back and laughs.

“I can see why. It’s so nice to have you guys back here, and welcome, Beck,” the other presenter says. He’s new, and I can’t remember his name for the life of me, even though they told me this morning.

Shit.

She smiles. “It’s lovely to be here.”

“And it’s good to be back,” I say truthfully. “We missed you all so much.”

The crowd says, “Aww,” and Sonita grips her heart. “And we’ve all missed you. Tell me, gentlemen, what’s it like with a new lead singer? You are no stranger to them, but something about Beck tells me this is different.” My jaw twitches, but I force a wide smile onto my face.

“Beck is amazing. She fit in with us immediately. We knew from the moment we met her that she was a Dead Ringer. It’s true we’ve had other lead singers in the past, but Beck is here now, and she’s here to stay,” I tell them.

“Well said.” Will, the other interviewer whose name I just remembered, nods. “Beck, what’s it like to be a rock star?” The crowd goes wild as she grins. “There isn’t much about you online, just that you were a small-town singer before this.” His eyes are beady as he digs for gossip or things he can use. I stiffen, but Beck handles it like a pro.

“Not much to tell really. My life was always about singing, and I was honored to be given the opportunity to sing with Dead Ringers. I won’t let them down, and we plan to make a whole lot of magic and music together.”

“I love it. Will there be any new songs on the tour?” Sonita gushes.

“Maybe.” Kolton grins, and women in the crowd scream when he waves at them.

“We have been given exclusive access to your new artwork. Let’s take a look.” The screens blow up the photo with our names across it, and we let the crowd cheer and scream for a little while.

“Wow.” Sonita fans herself. “Beck, it’s clear you are very comfortable in front of a camera.”

“Not really.” She chuckles. “But the guys are naturals and helped a lot.”

“That outfit . . .” Will whistles. “I mean, how did you even wear underwear with that?” He laughs.

Beck’s smile turns bitter, and I frown at him, but surprisingly, it’s Chase who answers. “I didn’t.” He grins. “I prefer going commando.” He smoothly takes the spotlight from her, not letting Will sexualize her too much. The crowd eats it up, and Will gets the picture.

“Well, it’s a showstopper, that’s for sure,” Sonita adds smoothly. “Now, I have to ask, the last few years have been bumpy for the band. Do you feel the pressure to come back with a bang?”

“In a way.” I nod. “We’ve made mistakes, but we learned from them, and the one thing we can all agree on is that we just want to make music and share that with everyone.”

“I promised to calm down.” Chase winks. “If that helps at all.”

“So no more arrests or sex scandals?” Will boos.

“I’ll keep that behind closed doors,” Chase booms out, laughing with them.

“It really seems like you’ve turned over a new leaf, and with Beck as part of the band now, we’re all very excited to see what the future holds for you. We have about ten minutes left before the show ends, so how about we end it on a song? What do you think?” The crowd stands to chant, and we climb to our feet, pretending to think it over.

We do eventually take the stage and the lights go down. I give Beck a nod as she looks back at us. “You’ve got this,” I tell her softly as I put my earpiece in and hear them counting us down.

When they hit one, Chase shreds the guitar. I follow and count Beck in. Despite this being our first performance, she hits the opening note with precision and flair, sliding her hand down the mic as she sings. I’m unable to take my eyes off her. She sways and dances, making love to the mic as she sings, and when it’s over, I find the crowd just as enraptured with her as I am.

She hesitates nervously, and then the place erupts in applause.

Beck spins to face us, and the grin she gives us is so carefree and happy, my heart actually skips a beat.

Oh yes, Beck Danvers was made for us.

Why don’t I want to share her with the world?

SEVENTEEN

We get the night off after the interview—thank God—and I catch the guys rewatching it over and over as it spins across news stations and online forums. I leave them to it, needing some peace after the madness. I find myself in the hammock outside once more, staring at the city.

I felt joy after the performance, and that only adds to my guilt and pain. I enjoyed performing with them—no, I loved it. I reveled in watching the crowd sing along, and feeling the music in my soul reminded me exactly why I’ve always loved singing.

Why I’ve always wanted to chase my dream in music.

As much as it feels good, though, it hurts, and it tears me apart until I can barely breathe. Will it be like this every time? If so, then how do I hide that from them? I don’t have what I need yet, I need time, but the tour is rapidly approaching, and I know after today, I need to disappear before then.

I might run away with them and never come back.

No, I can’t, but a small voice tells me I should be worried about what will happen to them when I’m gone. Another failed lead singer? Another scandal? It will destroy them.

That’s what I want, right?

“Here.” I startle at the voice and glance up to see Kolton there, holding out a glass of wine. I accept it and take a sip as he sits on the edge of the hammock.

“Thanks.” It warms me and settles my racing thoughts.

“The first performance is always the worst. I threw up both before and after mine,” he admits, smiling at me, “so I figured you could use that.”

“Really?” I chuckle. “You’re always so calm.”

“Not always.” He smiles, and I pat his side as he slides closer. We lapse into silence, which is only interrupted when Chase stalks outside with a bottle of beer dangling from his hand.

“No fucking on the hammock, I sleep there,” he comments with an evil grin as he stops next to us.

“I think I should tell you that, not the other way around,” I comment as I sip my wine.

“I’m ordering pizza. You want in?” he asks.

“Yes please,” Kolt and I reply.

“Pepperoni, right?” he asks me, and I nod, unsure why he remembers my pizza order.

He taps away on his phone, and I can’t help myself.

“Why did you help me?” I ask Chase. “In the interview with the underwear thing?”

“I might not always like you, Beck, or want you here, but you are one of us, and like it or not, no one fucks with my family.” He nods at me and Kolton and heads back inside. “You owe me for the pizza though.”

“Wow, that was almost nice,” I whisper, making Kolt laugh.

“I wouldn’t expect it every day.”

I nod and gaze back out at the city. Now is my chance to dig and get what I want, but as I go to open my mouth, his voice stops me.

“I’m glad we met you, Beck.” I turn to see him watching me. “We were lost and about to give up, but you reminded us why we do this. We each have our own reason for being in love with music, but we can get a little lost on the road to stardom. You reminded me why I started to begin with, so thank you, and thank you for being so nice to my family. We’ll always protect you, okay? Let’s do this together.”

I nod, swallowing bile at the honesty on his face and the happiness in his eyes. I can’t do it. I can’t hurt him right now.

“Pizza is here, you fuckers!”

“Come on.” Kolton laughs and gets up. Downing my wine, I grab his arm to help myself up and then we head back inside.

“First fuck?” Chase asks.

“How predictable,” I drawl, sipping my beer as I take another slice. “It was in his old, beat-up Corolla in the middle of the woods, and AC/DC was playing, and they were still playing when he finished.”

They burst into laughter, their beer bottles clattering to the floor. Pizza covers the table, and Chase suggested a game for us to get to know each other better. It gives me a perfect opportunity, but I didn’t expect it to be so fun.

“First heartbreak?” I ask Trav, who’s next. I start out light, knowing I need to build to it.

“I was sixteen, and her name was Macy. She was a cheerleader.” He grins. “She was my first kiss too. I thought we were in it for the long run, until I caught her fucking the football captain.”

“Shit.” I chuckle. “Unlucky Macy. I bet she regrets it now.”

“Okay, Beck, your turn.” Kolt swallows his bite. “Why us? Why did you pick us to audition with? With your talent, you could have been signed for sure.”

I can’t tell them the truth, so I take a sip of beer to delay my answer. “I liked your songs,” I admit truthfully. “They always felt right to me, like they were speaking to me, so I figured why not?”

“Enough mushy shit,” Chase scoffs. “Trav, first sex dream about Beck.”

I gape. “What?”

Trav blushes and looks at me shyly. “First night after we met her.”

“You dog,” Chase howls.

“Chase, first time you jacked off thinking about Beck,” Kolton retorts, trying to embarrass him.

“Two hours after meeting her.” He smirks, leaning back.

“Wait, I was here then . . .” My mouth drops open.

“Sure were.” He toasts me with his beer.

The game goes on and on, and the questions get more and more personal until I can’t bite my tongue anymore. I need to know, and maybe this will give them a chance to prove me wrong.

“What happened to the girl before me?” I ask.

The table goes silent, and I look around, a slice half to my mouth. “Sorry, was that rude to ask?”

“No, no, you have a right to know,” Trav replies softly. Chase glares down at the table, and Kolton looks sad. “She had some problems, and in the end, they got the best of her. We tried to help, but we couldn’t. She, well, you probably heard. She killed herself.”

“I think it’s time for bed.” Chase stands. “Big day of rehearsal tomorrow.”

Nodding silently, I watch them clean up, and when I’m back in bed, I replay the words in my head.

She had some problems. We tried to help.

She killed herself.

God, hearing it so blatantly like that . . . Rubbing my chest, I close my eyes. I saw genuine pain in their gazes when Trav spoke, as well as regret and shame, but it was a reminder of what needs to be done.

After all, she’s dead because of them, and I’m the only one left who seems to give a fuck about what happened to her.

EIGHTEEN

Rehearsal today is quiet. Trav and Kolt are still thinking about Beck’s question. They think we should tell her everything, but I think doing so would only drive her away. She doesn’t need to know the dark past that haunts us—not because I like her, but because we need her.

Saying the atmosphere is dismal would be an understatement, and it’s clear she’s feeling it and is as grouchy as the others. I strum my guitar, working through the lyrics as they take a break.

My gaze catches on Beck as she leans into Kolton’s side while they practice the show, and my eyebrows rise. I’ve been noticing it a lot recently. Is it my place to tell her? He doesn’t seem overly uncomfortable, but I would hate for her to trigger him.

They might think I’m an asshole, but I truly care for my brothers. We’ve been to hell and back, and hopefully with Beck, we’ll go to heaven now.

I wait for Kolton and Trav to head out in search of snacks before talking to her, strumming as I work through the problem. It’s a new song, so when she approaches and sits cross-legged before me, I sing it out loud for her to hear.

“It’s good,” she says. “You should tweak that second line though. Instead of ‘bad to the bone,’ try ‘tired to the bone.’ It fits better.”

I try that, noticing she’s right. “Thanks.”

“No problem. So what’s up with everyone today?”

“Just tired,” I reply as I set my guitar to the side. “Beck, I need to tell you something, and it stays between us.”

“Uh-oh. If you have the clap, then you need to go to a clinic, man,” she teases, holding her hands up.

Rolling my eyes at her, I lean away. “Trust me, darling, I’m as clean as can be. No, it’s about Kolton.”

“What about him?” she asks innocently, and I fight to find the right words.

“Just stop touching him, okay?” Shit, that came out wrong.

“I’m sorry?” she replies, sounding defensive, and I don’t blame her. I sounded blunt as fuck.

“Fuck, this isn’t coming out right.” I blow out a breath, struggling with words for once in my life.

“Then say what you mean,” she demands, always a fucking wildcat. The fight in her eyes makes my jeans uncomfortably tight, not that I’d ever tell her.

Despite my thoughts on her, Beck truly is a fucking sex symbol, and I’m fighting old and new desires to have my wicked way with her.

No doubt she would stab me with a guitar pick for trying though.

“Beck . . . ,” I try again as she waits, getting annoyed.

BECK

“Well?” I prompt when he just stares at me as if he’s lost for words.

“If there is one thing I know for sure, it’s that Kolton Haynes does not like to be touched. Ever. I’m not saying it to be an asshole. I’m really not.”

I stare at him, super confused. “But I touch him all the time, not sexually, but I touch his hand or grab his arm or hug him—oh,” I trail off. “Shit.”

He nods. “It’s a thing from his past. He avoids women touching him at all costs. I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable or freaked out, so I thought I’d warn you. It’s not my place to say what happened, but just be careful with him, okay?”

I see the worry in his eyes and soften. “Of course, I didn’t know. I’m sorry. Wow, you truly do care for them.”

“I’m not a total bastard,” Chase mutters, and if I’m not wrong, there’s a flash of hurt in his eyes. “They are my brothers, and we have been through everything together. I just want to protect them.”

“That was shitty of me. I’m sorry. Thank you for telling me.”

He nods, his eyes back on the guitar, but there is coldness between us.

Great job, Beck, just what you need to get them to open up. “What are you playing?” I ask, drawing my knees to my chest and propping my chin on them.

His gaze meets mine, and for a moment, he looks lost. His bright eyes drop down my face, and I could swear they glance at my lips before he looks at the guitar.

“Just playing with a new song,” he murmurs. “It’s been a while since I wrote one,” he admits. “Usually, I write them all, but the guys started writing a couple of years ago, and we use everyone’s ideas now, but I haven’t been . . .” He bites his lip, strumming the guitar. “I haven’t been able to write one since I got clean. I just worry I can’t do it anymore and that I was only good back then because of the drugs. What if I can’t ever write a good song again? What if I will never be good enough?”

I know it had to hurt to admit that out loud, especially to me. In this moment, I can choose who I want to be—someone I’m proud of or someone out to hurt people.

“What if the sky falls? What if the world ends?” I retort as he looks at me, wide-eyed. “You can’t live your life on what-ifs, Chase. Talent is something you’re born with, but it’s also something you work damn fucking hard to hone. You didn’t learn to play guitar like that straightaway. It’s something you worked at every single day. Everyone wonders if they are good enough, and everyone compares themselves and their values to others, but let me tell you something. There is enough room in this world for us all. We’re all running our own race.”

He swallows hard. “So why can’t I write?” he whispers.

There is so much terror in his eyes that it breaks my heart. I might not like Chase too much, but it’s clear he’s been struggling with this for a while.

“How about I help?” I cover his hand on the guitar, unable to leave him hurting. No matter what I think of Chase or what’s happened, he did an amazing thing getting clean. “Your talent was not just due to drugs, Chase. You have to know that. It’s still in you, so let’s find it again.”

“Why?” he asks, meeting my eyes. “Why would you help me?”

Why indeed. I could let him suffer, which would help the plan, but part of me can’t, not until I know the truth. I can almost see Chase’s insecurities, and I can’t just watch. I thought I could become who I needed to be to do this, but faced with his very real pain, I know I can’t. If I shut Chase down now, he might never open up to anyone again.

“We’re bandmates. It’s what we do,” I say. “Your skill isn’t tied to your addiction. Let’s prove it, okay?”

I grab my guitar and start strumming the tune he was.

“I don’t know . . .” He rubs the back of his head. “I’ve never written with another person before.”

“Well, you start singing, and I can always change the song up a bit or add some things. Don’t think, okay? Just sing.” He frowns at me, so I start again at the top of the tune, giving him the time he needs. When it doesn’t seem to work, I start to hum, and his gaze comes back to me, and I start to sing random ass words that mean nothing. A small smile curves his lips, and he joins in.

I can’t help my chuckle as the song turns into random rhymes and phrases. When I restart the rhythm again, I nod at him, and then he takes a deep breath and starts to sing. I slow the rhythm down to match the type of lyrics that pour out.

“Flying high, walking the line, I was hoping to die but it never happened. Revived and alive, I took more to drown it out⁠—”

It’s clear he’s singing about his struggle with addiction, and it’s absolutely not my place to step in, so I just sit here with him, letting him know I’m here and he’s not alone as he pours his soul into the raw lyrics.

“I’m so sorry for falling once more. I didn’t mean to hurt you. We’ve been down this path before. I say it’s over, that I won’t do it anymore. We both know it’s a lie, and I’ll be high before first light⁠—”

Tears fill my eyes as he closes his own, singing from his heart. He stumbles over a few bits and then restarts it, and I just make sure to keep the slow rhythm for him to work it out with. It’s amazing watching his brain in action and hearing his story. Chase is a pretty face, but he’s also so much more. He’s a flawed human just trying to find his place in this world like everyone else. He’s made mistakes, he has done shit he isn’t proud of, yet here he is, pouring it out so others can hear.

So that someone might not feel as alone in their struggle.

Yes, it’s cathartic for him as well, but being creative means putting parts of yourself into everything you make. You give yourself to the public and hope it’s enough, and that’s what Chase is doing. He’s letting them decide if he’s enough. He’s asking for forgiveness when all he truly needs to do is forgive himself.

The truth is, you can start again whenever you need to. It’s never too late. You can start again as many times as it takes. It’s your life, and as long as you live it in a way that makes you happy, then you don’t owe anyone else anything.

When I fade off, so does he, breathing heavily.

Our eyes meet in the silence after the music stops, the air heavy with tension.

Chase is raw, vulnerable, and beautiful. I understand why angels fall for the devil.

His music always made me feel like going to church. It was a holy moment, but seeing it up close was a whole different experience.

I grin at him. “You just wrote a song,” I tell him. “Guess I was right after all.”

As I stand to get back to rehearsal, he catches my hand. “Thank you, Beck. I mean it. I thought I was burnt out and forgotten like everyone said, that I was nothing without the drugs. Thank you for showing me otherwise.”

“You did it all yourself, Chase. It’s inside you, don’t ever doubt yourself,” I murmur, squeezing his hand.

“Time to play!” Trav calls, completely unaware of the tension as he stumbles back inside, shoving the rest of his chips in his mouth.

I grin at Chase as we head back to rehearse. Time is of the essence, but as we sing and practice, he smiles at me more. It’s natural. It’s like a barrier has dropped between us now, and I like it a little too much.

I have to remind myself of the truth, but as I stare into those hazel eyes, that truth starts to get a little lost.

During practice, I find myself watching Kolton. He’s smiling, playing, laughing, and joking. He reaches for the guys a lot, handing them drinks or even dancing with them. He doesn’t seem to mind dancing with me too, but I don’t want to step over a line, and if what Chase said is true, then he has trauma with women that I don’t want to make worse, so I make sure to stay back without making it obvious. I don’t flirt with him while I sing like I would have. I thought I was chill about it, but when we pack up, I feel eyes on me, and when I glance over, I find Kolton frowning at me. I quickly look away, not wanting to embarrass him.

Once back at the house, I excuse myself, and after showering and flopping onto my bed, I find my hand reaching for the tapes. I need to know. I have to know.

“Hey, I don’t know why I’m recording tonight, other than I wanted to call you. I wanted to hear your voice, but I knew you wouldn’t answer. Our show was tonight, and it went well. I wish you were here. I wish you could see me. I wish . . .” She sighs. “Well, I wish a lot of stuff.” She goes quiet for a bit. “I know our relationship is completely messed up, and I know we’ll never be okay again, but I miss you. I miss you so much, and at night I lie here and remember everything. Everything I said. Everything I did. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t. I’m sorry.” I hear tears in her voice, and my own choke me as I close my eyes.

Hearing her pain always killed me, and it hurts even more so now, knowing she was struggling alone.

“I just miss you. I thought this would be everything I wanted, but it’s nothing without you.”

I skip to the next tape, wiping my eyes.

“Drugs, drinking, and sex doesn’t help. I think I’m sick,” she whispers.

I hear the noise of the city and know she was walking in this one. It makes me wonder where and if I could find it and walk the path she took while she recorded this.

“I don’t want to do anything. I just want to sleep all the time. I’m so fucking tired. I see everyone around me getting mad and worried, but I can’t seem to care about it. I keep fucking up, and that’s the worst thing because this meant so much to me, yet now I don’t even care when I screw up. I feel empty and burdened at the same time, like my heart and soul are being crushed from the weight of everything. I feel so alone,” she trails off. “I wish you were here. You would know what to do to make it all better. I just feel so alone, so isolated. I just want it to stop.”

Ripping off the headphones, I toss them away and scream into my hands.

I should have been there.

I should have protected her.

Crawling into my bed, I wrap my quilt around me. I know the feelings she described well. I used to have to drag my ass out of bed every single day, and it took everything in me to put one foot in front of the other. The only thing that kept me going was the thought of how I had to make everything right.

It gave me a reason to fight, even when it got so hard, I just wanted to sink into the darkness and never leave.

I know those feelings well, and hearing that in her voice ruins me.

No matter how nice they are, I need to remember this feeling of hopelessness and anger.

I close my eyes and pray to something I don’t believe in so I can see her in my dreams, but two hours later, I scream in frustration and toss my bedding back.

I can’t sleep. I’ve tossed and turned. I’ve gotten angry. It’s no use.

I’ve always struggled with insomnia. I used to worry that when I went to sleep, I would wake up and my mom wouldn’t be there anymore, so I just stopped sleeping. It became a bad habit, one I can’t break now.

I starfish across the bed, exhausted and drained both physically and emotionally.

Wrapping the tape player up carefully, I hide it once more and flop back, just staring at the ceiling. Maybe if I count the lines . . .

There’s a soft knock, and then the door opens. I sit up, wide-eyed, to see Trav sneaking in. “Can’t sleep?” he murmurs, wearing nothing but some shorts. My eyes take in all his muscles. “I heard you moving around. I can’t sleep either. I figured we might as well suffer together.” He shuts the door and throws himself onto the bed next to me, uncaring or not noticing that I’m checking him out. I’m never sure which with Trav.

Stiffly lying down, I stare at the ceiling, unsure what to say or do.

Trav and I get along well, but everything is heightened in the dark, and I feel that tension holding me tight.

“I hate spiders. They really freak me out,” he says randomly, breaking the tension.

Turning my head, I find him spread out next to me, an arm behind his head. “Huh?” Brilliant, Beck. Truly.

Grinning, he turns onto his side to face me. “I hate spiders. I heard talking helps you go to sleep faster. So what are you scared of, Beck?”

I almost say, Never seeing her face again. “I hate clowns,” I admit. “One time, I punched one at a fair.”

He chuckles. “You didn’t.”

“I did.” I turn onto my side. Maybe he’s the distraction I need to stop myself from spiraling again. I’m afraid to slip back into that dark place, and I can feel it happening. “I’d gone with some friends, and it started chasing us. The only way I’m running is if I’m being chased. I turned later, thinking it stopped, but it popped up, so I punched the dude right in the face, a knee-jerk reaction.”

Trav’s laugh booms around the room, his whole body shaking with it, and I find myself smiling along. “I can totally see you doing that. So that’s the type of teenager you were, huh? Troublemaker?”

“Nah, I had really good grades. I never got into trouble. In all honesty, I worked all the time.” I don’t admit doing what. “I didn’t have a lot of time for friends and going out, so when I did, I made the most of it. What about you?”

He seems sad at my answer but nods. “I was a bit of a dick,” he admits shamefully, making me grin. “I didn’t kill people or anything, but I’d skip school and drink and party. When I hit eighteen, my dad threw me out, saying I’d never become something. I couch-surfed before I got lucky with an audition.”

“I’m sorry. Your dad sounds like a dick,” I say.

“He was, but he was right. I was never good at school. I just didn’t get that type of learning, and it was hard for me to concentrate. Music was always my passion, and if he hadn’t kicked me out, I wouldn’t be here, so it all worked out,” he replies brightly. Does anything upset this man? It’s a reminder I’m not the only one with a shitty life.

“You still speak to him?” I ask softly.

“No, not really. Sometimes I’ll call him on his birthday, but he’s better off without me. He never asks for anything like Chase’s parents, though, so that’s good.” I want to ask, but that’s Chase’s story, and Trav definitely won’t tell me. Trav is the type to take secrets to the grave.

“I’m sorry. Do you have any other family?” I snuggle deeper into the bed, and he copies until we’re almost pressed together.

“No, just the guys. How about you?” His voice is softer, lower.

“Not anymore,” I answer, not lying for once. “They are all gone.”

He frowns, covering my hand. “I’m sorry, Beck. That’s really hard. I know how quiet it is being alone. If you’re anything like me, you hate it.”

Shit, how did he know?

Does Trav see right into my soul?

Rolling onto my back, I keep my hand in his, appreciating the warmth and comfort when I was struggling so much before. “Yeah, well, shit happens.”

“It does,” he replies, sounding sad. Trav is a bundle of joy and happiness, so I don’t like to see him down. I squeeze his hand.

“What’s your favorite color?”

He grins over at me. “Green, yours?”

“Purple.” I smile.

“Favorite song?” For the first time in the darkness, I’m not alone. The fact that it’s him makes me feel conflicted, but I can’t turn him away when he saved me from my own darkness.

“Probably ‘Call Your Mom,’ right now,” I say. “Favorite movie?”

So it goes on. We play this game for so long, I start to feel my eyes close, but it’s my half asleep thought that chases me into my dream.

I like Trav.

NINETEEN

When I wake up, I’m warm and comfy, and it’s only when I turn over that I realize Trav is curled around me, holding me tight. I must wake him because he groans.

I stare, wide-eyed, unsure what to do. When he yawns, I panic internally. “Morning,” he says before climbing out of bed and stretching. “I guess talking worked. I better go shower.”

He stumbles from the room half asleep, leaving me gaping at him.

When did everything get so muddled?

It takes me far longer than I’d like to admit to calm down.

Bandmates share beds all the time, and we’ll live in close quarters on tour. It meant nothing, or at least that’s what I tell myself before I stumble downstairs to make food.

Kolton is already in the kitchen, and I smile at him. “Morning.”

He just nods his head, stuffing his face before fleeing, leaving me staring after him with a frown.

Is that about Trav? Does he know? Or is it something else?

It’s quiet this morning, and as I eat breakfast, I realize I’m angry at myself and at them. I thought this would be easy. I thought I would be in and out. I was so sure of myself, but now everything seems jumbled.

They don’t seem like terrible people, and I think that’s making it harder.

I try to hold onto my pain, but every smile or kindness they show me makes it disappear.

I came here for revenge, revenge I can’t forget no matter how nice and welcoming they are. Revenge is all I know now. I gave up my entire life to get it. I’ve been collecting their secrets, but I need more. The secrets I have are too personal.

When I have those secrets that I can use to destroy them, will I be able to?

I came here for revenge, but I think I need the truth first.

Despite the guys being in, the day is too quiet. I’m caught up in my own head, debating everything that’s happened since I arrived here. We have become close so quickly, but I remind myself it’s a good thing because the closer I am, the deeper I’ll be able to dig the knife in, but I feel almost guilty.

It also doesn’t help that Kolton won’t meet my eyes.

He seems down today, and I worry I’ve done something wrong. Shit, did he notice me acting weird? I really don’t want to trigger or upset him, especially after Chase went out of his way to let me know. I thought about it a lot last night when I couldn’t sleep. I don’t remember Kolton ever letting a woman touch him since I’ve known them. Even the makeup and stylists who work with him are males, and at the shoot, he was very careful not to let them touch him.

Today is our day off, and the guys seem to make the most of it, either sleeping or playing games or both. I hang with them since I have nothing else to do. I was so fucking sure when I came here, but I’m not now, and I think that’s why I’m hesitating. I look at them as they laugh and joke and wonder if they could truly do it. Can I?

Just as it gets dark, I head upstairs to get some space.

As I reach the top, I hear Chase call out, “Have a good night, man,” and when I peer over the railing, Trav is heading out the door.

I’m alone in my bed. Usually, I would reach for the tapes, but tonight, I feel too raw. I need space from her pain and my guilt. I need to decide who I am as a person.

Can I really do this?

If not, then I gave up everything for nothing, and when they learn the truth, I’ll end up like her or worse.

Sighing, I turn over, my mind pinging from revenge to Kolton. He didn’t even say goodnight when I went upstairs, like there is an invisible line between us I erected without meaning to. When his eyes met mine for a moment earlier, I swore I saw pain and longing in his gaze.

I’m confused and a little hurt, which is stupid.

I don’t need them to like me, but I suppose I do because it would make it easier to destroy them.

I cover my face, telling myself revenge is the only reason I wonder if he’s okay. Climbing out of bed, I knock on Trav’s door for some advice. Out of all of them, he will understand and know what to do. Chase would make lewd jokes, and Kolton, well, he’s the one I need to talk about.

I peek inside Trav’s room. His bed is perfectly made, and his lights are off. I wander the big house in search of him, but he’s nowhere to be found.

Chase told him to have a good night earlier, right?

Trav is gone, but I don’t know where. I drop him a text, needing to talk to someone about the Kolton thing, but he doesn’t reply, so I send another.

Beck: Yo, where you at? Need advice.

Beck: Trav?

Frowning, I pocket my phone and make myself something to eat. When I finish and he still hasn’t responded, Chase’s words come back to me—enjoy yourself. Is Trav hooking up with someone?

Bitter jealousy chokes me. Why do I care?

I tell myself I don’t, but I reread our messages and send another anyway.

Beck: Hope you’re having a good night.

Shit, did that sound sincere or jealous? It’s too late now to change it. I thought we had been getting close. Out of all of them, Trav makes me feel the most comfortable. Yes, we flirt, and he’s hot, but I need to flirt to get what I need.

He can fuck whomever he wants. He’s single.

Smashing my phone down, I leave it on the table as I head outside and find myself in what has become my spot—the swinging hammock. I let the cold breeze wash over me as I soak up the moon’s rays.

I wish my mother were here. She would know what to do. Most thought she was too kind, but under that kindness was a backbone of steel. If you crossed her, you knew it. She’s the reason I am the way I am. She always said I got my mean streak from her, but I need her warmth and comfort right now more than anything. She would wipe my tears away and tell me to do what needs to be done. She would tell me they had it coming. She would lay it out in black and white.

Then again, nothing is black and white. There are always shades of gray, and with the Dead Ringers, I’m finding nothing but gray. My revenge and my heart seem to cancel each other out.

I know good people can do bad things, but are the Dead Ringers good people who made a mistake, or are they just people pretending to be good?

Without that knowledge and the truth they are hiding, I can’t act yet. I have to gather intel, find out what I need to know, and then decide. If I was wrong, then I’ll leave just as quietly as I came. No one will care. They never do. I was always invisible, and I will remain that way, but I will get my revenge on whoever did it before I go. I have to. It’s the only thing left in my broken heart.

Part of me didn’t even intend to outlive my revenge, planning to join her and everyone else I love in the grave, but as I open my eyes and look at the moon, there’s a thud of my heart, and for the first time since I found out, I want to live.

I want to live a life she would be proud of. I want to live for her and my mom. Both of their lives were cut short, and they fought until the end, clinging to the beauty and hope of this world, wanting just one more day. They wanted to experience everything.

The night she died, my mother told me she had regrets for all the things she never did. I don’t want to die like that. I want no regrets when I join them.

Is it selfish, though, to live when they are both gone?

Is it selfish to be happy when all they felt was pain?

She needed me at the end, and I wasn’t there. I can’t forget or forgive that, but can you move on without either? I don’t know, and part of me doesn’t want to find out. Not yet. But I know I’ll never be able to without the truth.

“Mind if I join you?” The voice startles me from my contemplation, and I swing my head around to meet Kolton’s wary eyes. The moonlight caresses one side of his face, plunging the other into darkness, and for a moment, I just stare. With his shoulders rounded, he looks so beautifully lost.

Kolton Haynes is one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen, but the smile that usually enhances his beauty is nowhere in sight, and instead, when he steps into the light, all I see in his eyes is longing and pain.

A pain I feel deep in my own soul.

Nodding silently, I move over so we don’t touch as he sits. His eyes flare, noticing the movement, and something akin to anger glimmers in those depths before he releases me from his gaze and sits. I look back at the moon as the inches of space separating us feel like miles.

Where Kolton is a roaring flame, filled with life and passion, I’m the opposite—a person of singular intent and purpose—but when his eyes clash with mine, something links us together.

A shared understanding, but of what, I don’t know.

The air crackles with tension, and for a moment, my eyes drop to his plump lips as I wonder what it would be like to be kissed by him. Kolton doesn’t like to be touched, so he sure as fuck wouldn’t want me to kiss him. It was just a momentary weakness, needing comfort you find in another person.

That’s what I tell myself, anyway, as the silence stretches on uncomfortably between us, each minute another drop in the bucket of overflowing, unsaid words. I have to say something and break this tension. My soul tells me to strike now to learn the truth, since he’s vulnerable, but my mouth opens, and the words don’t come out.

Maybe I’m not as strong as I thought I was. Instead, something else slips out, something I never intended to say.

“They told me you don’t like to be touched. I’m so sorry. I won’t touch you anymore, okay?”

For a moment, I want to take the words back, since Chase mentioned it in confidence, but part of me wants to understand.

“Don’t,” he rasps, not meeting my eyes.

I jerk at the sudden word, searching his face for answers. “Don’t?” I prompt, unsure.

His jaw works as if he’s debating whether or not to respond, and I find myself holding my breath.

“Don’t stop touching me.” His dark eyes meet mine. “Don’t treat me differently, okay?”

“Uh, okay.” I nod, meeting his gaze and not knowing what to say. I should dig for the truth, something I can use, but the agony in his eyes prevents me from doing it. I can’t hurt Kolton like that.

I don’t know what happened to Kolton Haynes to make him hate being touched so much, maybe I never will, but if he says he doesn’t want me to stop, then I won’t.

Don’t forget why you’re here, the little voice whispers, but I push it away, knowing there is no room for it right now. He must sense my unasked question, though, because after a minute or two of just staring at each other, his deep voice comes again.

“I have an older sister,” he begins, looking out at the view. “She and her friends were cruel.” He pauses, struggling for words.

“Kolton.” I reach for him, laying my hand on his arm, and he doesn’t jump or flinch. “You don’t have to tell me.”

It’s clearly a painful secret I could use against him, but could I really?

God, I fucking hate myself right now.

“I want to.” He swallows, his gaze swinging to me. “I want you to know, Beck.”

“Why?” I ask, searching his gaze for the truth.

“Because I want to touch you, to kiss you . . . I want what the others have with you no matter how small it might be, but I can’t let you if you don’t know the truth beforehand. If you find out after and then you don’t want me anymore, I don’t think I could survive it.”

“That would never happen,” I hiss, holding him tighter. I hate the shame and self-deprivation in his voice.

“Please, Beck, I need to tell you so you understand.” Seeing the determination in his expression, I nod and sit back.

He holds my hand tighter, his gaze dropping to it. “They were a few years older, and my parents were never around, always working and focusing on the money they could bring in. My sister took it upon herself to torture me, and she made my life hell. I could survive that, even when her friends joined in, but one day, it changed. They were drinking and talking about how pretty I was, how obedient, and they bet they could get me to do anything.”

Bile rises in my throat, and tears form in my eyes at the pure agony in his tone. “They touched me. It didn’t stop that night. It continued until I was big enough to stop them and fight back. They would complain about their boyfriends, saying they weren’t as good as me.” Oh God. I swallow my vomit as he shudders. “I was a kid, Beck, just a kid. I didn’t understand. They told me it wasn’t wrong, but it felt wrong. They told me it was natural, that I should enjoy the attention, and every other boy would.”

Oh God.

“Even my sister didn’t leave me alone. She said she wanted to know what the fuss was about.” His shoulders sink. “I never told anyone, not one person, because once I realized how messed up it was, I was too ashamed. As soon as I could, I left school and home and never looked back. I cut all ties with them, but I still feel them touch me. I still see it in my dreams. It haunts me, Beck, and that’s why I never let anyone else touch me. I can’t stand it. I tried once, but when she touched me, I shoved her away and cried. I was so embarrassed, we had to pay her off and have her sign an NDA, but then you came and touched me and it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t make my skin crawl. It made me happy. I felt like you were made to be in my arms. When I look at you, Beck, I don’t feel broken, I feel whole, but I couldn’t let you touch me again without knowing. I get it if you don’t want to. I understand, and I won’t be offended,” he trails off, still not meeting my eyes.

I tilt his chin up. His eyes glimmer with unshed tears as he waits for me to reject him, so I lean in and press my lips to his, not once looking away. I show Kolton Haynes the first act of kindness and love he has ever had.

My poor broken boy.

In this moment, I offer him a truth I didn’t even want to admit to myself, but my heart and body knew before me.

“I will always want you, Kolton. I will never push you or take advantage of you. Your sister and her friends are evil fucking bitches. I can’t believe they did that to you.” I shake my head, and his fingers capture a tear, rubbing it between his fingertips.

“You’re crying for me.” His voice is soft, unsure.

“Of course I am.” I dash them away. “I’m so fucking angry for you and what they took from you. They perverted something that can be so beautiful and made you hate it and your own body. Fuck, I want to hunt them down and—” I stop.

Kolton’s lips cover mine, trembling and unsure. When he pulls back, he blushes. “Sorry, I couldn’t⁠—”

Taking his chin tenderly, I give him time to back away, but when he doesn’t, I kiss him. His eyes close as I glide my lips across his before covering them. He gasps and sways into me, and I catch him, tangling my tongue with his. He’s hesitant but soon catches up. I groan as I pull away, our heads bent together.

“I’m glad my first real kiss was with you,” he whispers.

“So am I.”

Under the full moon, I wonder if I can truly destroy the Dead Ringers.

They were just a name before, a vague thought, but now they are real.

Can I truly use their pain like a dagger and drive it into their back?

If I don’t, then how can I live with myself?

TWENTY

Ifeel sick. I scrubbed Reign Harrow’s kiss from my lips, yet I still feel dirty, like I betrayed Beck. I don’t even care about what else happened or the way the crazy men with her threatened to kill me.

Okay, I’ll admit I was a little scared, but as soon as I saw their jealousy, I understood because deep down, I would feel the same way if I saw Beck with someone else.

I don’t know when I became addicted to our new band member, but I can’t seem to stop it. She’s all I think about. I wake up smiling, happy to see her. I crave her touches and her looks. Her laugh makes my heart sing, and when she looks at me with those big eyes, I’m gone.

Surging into my room, I hurry to the bathroom, grabbing my toothbrush and scrubbing my mouth as if she would be able to taste the betrayal. Reign was always fun, and as a friend, she was someone I could trust to sate my urges without it getting around. Unlike Chase, I never craved that attention or spotlight. I had no room for relationships or ever wanted one, but I had needs. I couldn’t have Beck, so tonight, I made a bad decision. I thought if I had Reign, I could forget all about the temptation living above me, but it didn’t work. Even with Reign’s body against mine and her lips on my own, all I thought about was Beck, wondering if she would be softer, what she would taste like, and if she would be jealous or mad.

I feel sick.

Beck Danvers is not mine, and she never will be. We made a deal. We need her too much to ruin this with our stupid emotions, but it doesn’t stop me from craving her, and tonight, I realized nothing will fill that void.

Only her.

I jerk my head around at a noise and find her leaning into my bathroom door, smiling at me as if my thoughts conjured her. Her eyes are red, as if she’s tired or has been crying, and her hair is mussed, yet she’s never looked so beautiful.

I stand stock-still and stare at her, waiting for her to realize the truth.

I need her. I want her. I’m lost without her.

They always told me artists feel too much, and maybe they are right, but I have never felt this consumed by another person before, especially so fast. I don’t know how Beck Danvers did it, but she cast a spell on me, and I’m not even angry.

Maybe being with her constantly didn’t help, but I’m done fighting it.

I want her, it’s that simple, and the others can lie to themselves, but I see the truth.

They want her too.

This won’t end well, but I don’t care as I stare into her eyes.

“I texted you. Are you okay?” she asks worriedly. I hang my head in shame, wondering if she can read the truth.

We aren’t together, and she is off-limits, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting her. I’m also worried she will look at me differently if she realizes where I was tonight. I kissed someone else, even if I thought of her.

“Yeah, sorry,” I respond lamely. I always reply to her texts, quickly too. I can’t help it. I hang on to her every word. We’ve only known each other a few weeks, yet Beck Danvers has wormed her way into my heart and soul, and the idea that I could hurt her kills me. I quickly wash my mouth out and fiddle with the taps to give my hands something to concentrate on besides grabbing her and hauling her to me so I can replace Reign’s taste with hers.

She might not even want me, not the way I want her, but it doesn’t matter.

I betrayed my feelings for her, and I hate that.

“You’re bleeding,” she says suddenly, and I look into the mirror.

I couldn’t look at myself when I first came in, but now I see she’s right. The small cut that crazy bastard gave me is still bleeding. Opening the medicine cabinet, I grab a box of bandages and rip it open.

“Here, let me,” she offers softly, covering my hands. The warmth of her soft skin has me stilling, and with gentle fingers, she places the bandage across the cut and grins at me as she presses a gentle kiss to it. My heart leaps, and I know this is how it’s supposed to feel.

“It’s okay, Trav,” she whispers as she smooths her hands over it, her eyes finally meeting mine. “You don’t have to feel guilty.”

“What?” I whisper.

Her hands stop moving, just touching my neck. “You went to meet someone, right? You practically sprinted in here, so you didn’t even see me downstairs. You don’t have to feel guilty just because I’m here in your house and band. You’re allowed to sleep with whomever you want.” She drops her hands, and I instantly miss her touch.

“Goodnight,” she tells me, but I can’t let her go like this.

Before I realize it, I reach out and catch her arm, pulling her back. I need her to understand. I tip her chin back to see her confused eyes. “I didn’t sleep with someone,” I admit, and her eyes widen. “I wanted to.” Pain flashes in her eyes, and I soak it in. I deserve it. I memorize the look so I will never forget what it feels like to hurt Beck Danvers. “I wanted to so I could get you out of my head, but I couldn’t. She kissed me, and it felt wrong. It was wrong. We both knew it. She wanted someone else, and I wanted you.” She swallows and searches my gaze. “I wanted it to be you so badly, but I can’t ruin my band’s dream, not even for my own desires. I want you, though, Beck. I won’t lie about that. I want you so badly I can’t breathe when you’re around, but there is no one else and there will be no one else, because they would be a pale imitation of what I truly want—you.” I step back.

She watches me for a moment before her eyelashes flutter as if she’s coming back to life. “Who said you couldn’t have me?”

My heart skips a beat as I look at her. I want to take what she’s offering.

“I can’t. You don’t understand how much I want to, but I can’t. You belong with us, Beck, and I won’t ruin that like Chase has in the past. Relationships make everything messy. They never end well. I won’t do that to you or to them, even if it kills me.”

“You’re a good man, Trav,” she responds, shocking me. “But good men don’t get what they want in the end. Good people end up alone and sad, filled with regrets. Everything has to end, but who said when that end will be or what will happen? Stop thinking a year down the line. Just live in the present. Life is too short not to.” She comes over and kisses my cheek. “When you’ve decided, I’ll be here. I have no plans to go anywhere yet. You won’t drive me away, and if it ends badly, then it ends badly, Trav. Good things worth having always do because they are real. I want real.” She steps away. “Goodnight.”

I watch her go once more, my hand on my cheek.

Beck Danvers wants me too.

It almost shocks me to my core.

Is she right though? Can I cross this line?

Would the others forgive me? Do I deserve to be selfish for once?

What if it ends us all?

Is that my responsibility? I always protect them, protect this band . . .

Isn’t that what Beck’s saying though? For once, I should take something for myself.

Would Beck Danvers be worth ruining everything over?

Yes. It’s an easy answer.

TWENTY-ONE

Everything is so messy. I kissed Kolton last night, right after he bared his scarred soul to me. He walked me back into the house and wished me goodnight, and as I watched him go, I felt so sick, I nearly missed Trav running into the house.

I don’t know why I followed him other than I had to know. His wide, guilty eyes and the scent of perfume on him told me where he’d been. It hurt, which confused me even more. Why did it hurt?

I just kissed Kolton, yet I wanted Trav?

I found myself daring him to want me.

It was out of jealousy, sure, but also due to my own needs.

I’m so fucking messed up.

I’m not here for them, yet they have worked their way inside me despite my protests. It makes me grumpy, and I stomp to the coffee machine and pour a mug before sitting heavily at the table.

Chase nudges me, but I ignore him, only to yelp when he suddenly picks me up, sits where I was, and sets me on his lap. His arms wrap around me to grab my coffee, and he sips it. “Morning, grumpy pants,” he teases.

Elbowing him, I take my mug and slide into his now vacant seat, throwing my legs across his lap.

“You two are cute,” Trav teases as he eats his cereal.

“I annoy her, like siblings,” Chase replies.

“Yeah, siblings, maybe if you’re in Game of Thrones.” Kolton chuckles, making Chase glare at him.

“I’m just saying”—Kolton holds his hands up in defense—“you two are anything but familial.”

Pulling my legs off his lap, I glare at them all. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Whoa, someone didn’t sleep well. Have some frustrating dreams?” Chase teases.

“Yes, you kept surviving when I killed you,” I retort as he bursts into laughter.

Once the coffee starts to work, I relax a little, and it helps that Kolton and Trav don’t seem to be making this weird. They are the same as always, and that relieves me. Kolt’s hair is pushed back today and still wet, and it makes his features sharper. He’s still as perfect as ever, but now that I know what that perfection drew, I feel sorry for him.

Trav’s hair is held back by a headband, his oversized vest showing off all his tattoos. I glance back at Chase. They are all fucking pretty. Way too pretty. His blond hair is artfully swept across his face.

“See something you like?” he teases, always flirting, but there is something behind it today.

“Yes,” I purr, leaning closer, and his eyes heat as he watches me, then I pluck the fruit away from him. “This.” I wink as I take a bite of the apple.

Groaning, he leans back. “Such a tease, pretty girl.”

“Takes one to know one,” I say as I look around. “So what’s the plan today? Interviews? Rehearsing?”

Kolton grins. “Nope, we thought we’d have fun today.”

“Are we allowed to do that?” I ask, tilting my head.

“We’re not all work and no play,” Trav scoffs, winking at me. “We should bond.” I raise my eyebrow, and he blushes. “I meant as a band, so we can work together.”

“Smooth,” Chase taunts.

“Fuck off,” Trav grumbles as I grin.

“Okay then, fun it is. What kind of fun?” I ask as I look around, and they all get these weird smiles on their lips that make me pull back. “Oh God, I’m going to hate it, aren’t I?”

They stand, still grinning creepily. “Guys . . . Guys, wait, where are we going?” I call, but they leave the kitchen.

Oh fuck, it can’t be anything good.

Oh well, into the fire I go.

The sign proudly displays “Devil’s Play” as I gawk at the secret world spread out before me. We had to hand in our phones after proving who we were at multiple doors. There is security everywhere, but no cameras.

There are four pools that I can see, with slides, bars, a dance floor, and a private beach. There is apparently even laser tag, paintball, and ax throwing inside.

It’s basically a playground for the rich, a place where they can have fun without prying eyes. I love it.

“Come on.” Trav grins at me. “You can relax here. There are rules in place to protect members. Everyone here is famous in some regard and appreciates their privacy, so we are just normal people today. We can drink, party, and play all we want.”

I let him lead me farther toward one of the pools, glad I put on a black string bikini under my band T-shirt dress.

“What do you want to do first?” Chase grins. Wearing a black button-down, swim shorts, and flip-flops, he looks casual and yet screams money and sex. For a moment, I forget how to breathe.

“You’re catching flies,” he teases, and I snap my mouth shut, pretending to scan the place for what I want to do first when in reality, I’m trying to remember how to breathe.

“Travy!” a female shouts, and we all turn. My eyes widen at the ball of energy who flings herself at him. Laughing, he grabs her and swings her around.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, smiling so widely that envy fills me.

She pulls away, grinning. “I was bored,” she replies and waves at Kolton. “Hey, Kolt.” She turns to Chase, and for a moment, her smile falters before she quickly side hugs him. “Chase.”

“How are you?” Kolt asks, happy to see her.

Unease builds in my chest, and I hate it. Trav clings to the woman like a lifeline while I awkwardly stand here. Shit, was this the woman from last night?

Her eyes land on me and light up. “You must be Beck!” She pushes them aside and yanks me into a bear hug. Despite being half my size and barely touching five feet, she is strong as hell. She looks familiar, but I don’t know why until she pulls back. “I’m Ila, Trav’s sister.”

Oh, I’m ashamed to admit that I’m relieved as Trav wraps his arm around her. “Let her breathe, Ila. Beck, this is my little sister.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say truthfully.

“Come on, let’s go have some fun. It’s been too long since I’ve seen all of you.” She grabs my hand and yanks me through the crowd. I spot four guys watching her carefully from across the pool, and she blows them a kiss as she drags us to a table in the shade and sits down, ordering shots.

My eyebrows rise. She’s, well, a lot, but as I eye her, I see the same smile Trav has curling her lips.

“I’ve been where you are,” she tells me as we sit. “I’ll tell you all their dirty little secrets so you can use them to bribe them,” she teases, and my smile freezes. “Oh, don’t worry, they aren’t bad guys, just annoying.”

Nodding, I down the shot that arrives while she shoots three. “Slow down, little one.” Chase grins, and she gives him a familiar grin. I tilt my head, looking between them.

Wow, he really does sleep with anyone. It taints my appreciation of him today, and I move closer to Kolton, who is looking over a cocktail menu. “What do you want to do first?” I ask, sucking in his calming whiskey scent.

He always smells so good, and in his open blue shirt and matching trunks, he looks it. All his golden skin is on display. I almost passed out when I saw the deep V leading into his shorts, not to mention his abs, but I keep my eyes on his face. He’s been used for his body, and I won’t be like them.

Kolton Haynes is a masterpiece, but he wants to be more than that, and I’m determined to help him.

“We should use the water slides. They are amazing,” he replies, grinning like a kid, and I wonder if he ever got to have fun as a child. “Trav loves the games inside though, so we’ll do that too. You should pick something.”

“Um, I’m happy doing anything,” I admit shyly, completely overwhelmed.

I startle when his hand clutches mine under the table, his fingers interlacing with mine. “You can pick something, no need to worry. That’s what today is about, learning what we like and playing together.” It shouldn’t be dirty, but when he grins shyly at me, I know he meant it.

Clearing my throat, I look at the menu. “That one sounds good,” I offer, changing the subject and pointing at a random cocktail.

“A slow screw?” he teases, and I almost choke. “I think I’ll have peaches and cream.” I tilt my head and meet his eyes. “Do you know that you always smell like peaches?”

My eyes widen, and he grins.

“Damn, that’s hot.” We both whirl around to see all the others watching us. I duck my head as Kolton leans back, my hand still in his.

“So, um, Ila,” I begin. “You’re the lead singer of Pendants, right?”

“That’s right.” She grins. “For a couple of years now. I’ll give you my number before you leave. If you ever need any help with these idiots or just someone to talk to who understands what it’s like being a woman in the industry, reach out,” she offers, and I find it hard not to smile back at her.

She’s like Trav in that aspect.

A whistle cuts through the air, and Ila’s head snaps up as she rolls her eyes. “The guys,” she explains. “They keep tabs on me.”

“By whistling like you’re a dog?” Chase scoffs and grins at me. “Let’s see if it works.” He whistles, and I glare.

“Woof,” I bark, making him laugh.

“Come say hi,” Ila calls, dragging Trav up. “The guys have been wanting to see you again.”

I watch them go, Trav reluctantly being dragged over to the men watching us sharply. Their eyes are filled with nothing but love as Ila walks toward them. “Her new band,” Kolton explains as he stands. “I’m going to order our drinks. I’ll be right back.”

I nod, glancing at Trav, who’s in nothing but low-slung black swim shorts, flip-flops, and shades. He looks every bit the rock star, but he’s completely oblivious to all the women checking him out.

“So . . . ,” Chase begins as he plays with his empty shot glass. I turn back to him. “You really are smart, pretty girl.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I say, reaching for another shot and tipping it back. He watches me swallow before pushing his shades back. I watch him swallow a shot before he slams it onto the table.

“I slept with Trav’s sister.” I jerk at that admission. I guessed it, but I’m betting he knew that. “We never told anyone. She didn’t want to come between Trav and me. It was a drunken mistake on both our parts, but it was never the same between us after. That’s why she left. I never told him. He just thought she changed her mind and wanted to make her own name. I regret it every day. If he found out, he would never forgive me.” Chase looks at me. “I’m the reason he lost his sister, and although they are still close, he misses her, and it eats me up inside. I was so lost in drugs and alcohol, I didn’t even see who I was screwing. She was my friend, Beck, and I lost that. I hate myself for it. I don’t want to hate myself anymore.”

“He doesn’t know?” I ask.

“No. I have to tell him one day, but I know when I do, I’ll lose him. He’ll walk away, and the band will be broken. I can’t do that. I’m selfish. Kolton knows though. He found us. He hates keeping the secret. It eats him up.”

“Then why tell me?” I snap.

Chase searches my gaze. “Because the truth always has a way of finding the light of day, and when it does, I want someone on Trav’s side. I want him to have somewhere to go, someone to go to, when he realizes his best friend ruined his family.” He stands and walks away after giving me another secret for me to use, yet I just feel sick.

TWENTY-TWO

Beck is quiet when I get back. “Are you okay?” I ask, worried at her sudden change in demeanor.

I can’t stop my eyes from drifting to her lips before I quickly pull them away, not wanting to be caught. Their softness is still imprinted on mine, as is the kindness she showed me. She kissed me because she wanted me despite everything.

She knows all my secrets now, and she still wants me.

It’s addicting, and when she kissed me, I felt nothing but desire and happiness. There were no ghosts or memories of other hands. I don’t know why it’s different with Beck, but I’m dying to explore it and feel loved.

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s nothing,” she replies, forcing a smile to her lips as I set a fruity cocktail down before her.

Did I do something? Did I cross a line? I held her hand—I couldn’t resist. She’s just so fucking beautiful with her blonde hair blowing in the breeze, her curls tangling in her aviator shades on her head. Her face is makeup free, and she looks younger and happier. Her curves can’t be contained, even in her dress, and when she moves, I see flashes of a string bikini beneath that makes me shift uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line earlier,” I say sadly. I never want her to feel uncomfortable. Just because she kissed me doesn’t mean I have consent to touch her body. I know that better than anyone.

She frowns in confusion, and I continue.

“I shouldn’t have taken your hand like that. I’m really sorry⁠—”

She stops me, leaning over the table and taking my hand. “It wasn’t you,” she tells me. “I liked you reaching for me.”

“I liked reaching for you,” I admit, staring into her deep brown eyes.

She sits back with a smile, sipping her drink. She moans when she tastes the cocktail, and the sound has my dick hardening. Coughing, I shift in my seat to try to get comfortable, ignoring the desire she stirs whenever she’s around me.

I glance around, spotting Trav with his sister, but Chase is nowhere to be seen. “How about we go have some fun? Just me and you?”

“I’d love that,” she replies, and I watch in awe as she downs her drink with a gulp. “Let’s go.”

Standing, I take her hand and tug her after me. I avoid the pools and crowds around here. Instead, we head inside the huge building, and I choose the glass elevator so she can see the different levels. Her mouth opens with awe.

“Being rich really is like living in another world.”

“The more money they have, the harder they play.” I shrug, placing my chin on her shoulder before I even realize what I’ve done. It seems like I’m starved for her touch.

She relaxes back into me as I stare at the levels as we ascend. Once we reach the lower rooftop, I tug her after me. We go around the pool, which is calmer, and follow a path between the flowers and bushes to the range at the back.

She laughs when she sees where I brought her. “Ax throwing?”

“Work off some of that steam.” I wink at her as I guide her over to the smiling instructor. I don’t let go of her hand as he explains the rules and how it works. I only release her when it’s her turn to try.

“You got it?” I grin at her, pulling down my shades and stepping back as she steps up to the line on the floor, taking aim at the target. The wicked-looking ax is massive in her hands, but she looks damn fucking sexy with it.

When she smiles at me over her shoulder, I swear I fall in love.

Her first throw hits the middle of the target, and I gape as the instructor claps. Laughing, she grabs another, and I just stand there, gobsmacked, as she destroys every target, hitting the center every time.

When she skips over to me, she presses my mouth shut. “Your turn.”

“Right,” I mutter. “I would say prepare to be awed, but Jesus, that’s a tough act to follow.”

Picking up the ax, I swing it back and forth, not ashamed to say I’m trying to show off for her. Chase and I usually come here, especially after he got sober. He said it helped him forget about drugs. I throw it with a swing and hit the middle, and then I smile at her before grabbing the next ax. I hope she’s at least a little impressed. It’s hard to tell with Beck Danvers. She’s a mystery, playing everything close to her chest.

I only miss one by a fraction, but when she wraps her arms around me, she makes me feel like a warrior who went to battle.

She grins. “What’s next?”

“How about the slides?”

Taking my hand, she waves me on. “Lead the way.”

Unable to help the smile on my face, I hurry us back down the elevator to the basement floors. The slide takes up the left side of the space. This floor is decorated in neon, with plants and flowers everywhere, and the huge, dimly lit basement pool is surprisingly empty.

“Wow.” She spins around. “It’s so quiet.”

“Not a lot of people come down here. They prefer to be outside. Come on.” I lead her up the stairs to the biggest slide and motion for her to go down. She sits on the edge of the slide entrance, and I sit behind her, pressing my legs on either side of hers and wrapping my arms around her waist.

She shivers, and I place my mouth to her ear. “Hold on, baby.”

Grabbing the edge, I push us off and down. She screams as we slide. Laughing, I hold her tighter as I lie back in the water. Neon lights flash in the dark tunnel as we spiral down. Giggling, she holds me tighter to her until her giggles turn into laughter.

It’s the best sound in the entire world, and for a musician, that’s saying something.

When we shoot out the other end and plunge into the pool, I don’t let go. I kick us to the surface, and she laughs, slicking her hair back and swimming to the edge of the pool as I follow her with a wide grin.

“That was so much fun. Let’s go again,” she says.

Giggling, she climbs from the pool, and I’m just grabbing the edge when she tugs off her shirt dress, lays it on one of the lounge chairs, and winds her hair up on her head. My mouth goes dry, and I miss the edge, splashing back into the pool at the sight of her body.

She is all lean lines, taut muscles, and soft curves. Her pale skin looks like moonlight, only interrupted by her odd tattoos. I submerge myself deeper into the cold water to try and cool off.

“How about a swim?” I suggest hopefully. If I have her sit on my lap while we go down the slide looking like that, I won’t stand a chance.

She tilts her head but shrugs. “Sure.” She gracefully dives back into the water and comes up next to me. “Lead the way.”

We find our way to the private outdoor pool. Some of it is inside and full of people, but if you swim under an open doorway, you come out into paradise. It has an island filled with flowers and trees in the middle to block people’s view. We swim around there, stopping at the circular resting place on the other side.

I tread water idly as she looks around, and when she looks back at me, she smiles softly and heads my way. When she reaches me, she wraps her arms around my neck. “It’s so pretty.”

I nod, wanting to tell her she’s the pretty one.

I tug her deeper into my arms, unable to resist. Feeling her soft warmth against me makes my soul fly high, even as my heart speeds up. She looks up at me through her lashes, and I’m lost. I lean in and capture her lips. She gasps, and I start to pull away, but her hand slides up and grips the back of my head as she deepens the kiss. Her tongue sweeps into my mouth, capturing my tongue as she kisses me.

She kisses like she sings, powerful and full of life, and I almost forget to swim. I have to break away, and I breathe heavily as I stare into her dark brown eyes.

“Beck,” I whisper, unsure what I was going to say. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want.” I stutter as I speak, and she presses her hand to my mouth, silencing what I might say after.

“But what if I want to?” she teases, pressing closer to me. “Are you hard, Kolt?”

My shortened name in her mouth takes me aback, and she wraps her legs around my waist.

“Is this okay?” she asks softly.

I nod, unable to breathe. “What if I want to? What if I want to touch you? What if I’ve thought of nothing else since the moment I met you?” I admit hoarsely.

“Then touch me,” she whispers. Releasing my neck, she swims backwards until she can stand. I frown, hating not having her in my arms anymore. I clench my hands in the water at the loss and advance on her. She lies back on the ledge, her legs stretched out as she leans on her elbows.

I don’t stop, and she opens her legs for me. I slide between them, stopping when I’m pressed against her.

“Touch me, Kolt. I won’t move. Touch me however and wherever you want. This is safe here between us. Just you and me.”

How did she know what to say?

I’ve never explored another’s body. I never wanted to, even when I tried intimacy after everything that happened. I just wanted it to be over with. With Beck, though, all I can think about is how soft her skin would be. Lifting a shaking hand from the water, I lay it on her thigh. She watches me with warm eyes, not moving or judging, just letting me explore and giving me consent to touch her like I want.

Sliding my hand higher up her thigh, I feel the softness of her skin over the steel-hard muscle. I drag it down her leg to her foot, lifting it from the water. She watches me as I lower my head and glide my lips up the same path. Her lips part, and her eyes dilate.

She likes me touching her.

My dick agrees, so I carefully lower her leg and turn my attention to her other one, stroking up, and this time, I don’t stop. I go higher, caressing her curvy hip, her tight stomach, the side of her breast, and up her neck to her face. Cupping her cheek, I lean down and kiss her softly. “Thank you.” I want to tell her more and thank her for giving me this, for giving me control over my body, but I can’t get the words out.

I’ve felt broken since I can remember, and then Beck Danvers strode into my life and proved I am anything but. Not with her.

Her hand covers mine, and when I lean back, she keeps her eyes on me as she pulls it back down and presses it to her breast.

My other hand comes up without permission, cupping the other side, massaging her breasts as she groans. Her eyes flutter closed in bliss as I explore and touch. “Kolt.” She murmurs my name as I knead, feeling her nipples harden against the wet material of her bikini top.

Swallowing, I meet her gaze. “I want to see you.”

Reaching up with deft fingers, she unties her top, and the bikini falls into the water, exposing her perky breasts tipped with little nipples that almost make me drool.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I whisper. Never before have I seen someone so gorgeous.

Following my instincts, I rub my face against her breasts before running my lips over the mounds. I sweep my lips across her nipples like when I kissed her, and her cheeks and chest pinken as she watches me. When I kiss one perky nipple, she sighs happily.

My cock jerks at the sound, wanting to hear it when I’m buried inside her, but I ignore my own needs as I open my mouth and blow over her nipple, watching her shiver. When I wrap my lips around it and suck, she cries out, her back arching.

I suck it deeper, and her legs jerk around my waist. I release her nipple and turn my head to touch her other bud, watching every reaction. She moans, the sound so beautiful, it burrows into my head as I touch her.

“I want to touch you,” I murmur.

She nods, taking my hesitating hands and sliding them down. She presses them to each side of her bikini bottom. When she smiles at me, I undo the bows, watching the black material fall away as I move back to look at her. She’s completely confident in her nudity as she leans back, and I gaze at her pussy.

It’s as beautiful as the rest of her, pink and pretty.

As I stare at her, other memories reach for me, but I push them away. They were always on top of me, never below me.

“Kolt.” My name brings me back.

She doesn’t rush me or push. She just lets me play and explore. My whole relationship with sex and pleasure is fucked up, but Beck is healing the cracks. They will never fully disappear, but she glosses over them with gold. She doesn’t reach for me or touch me, and I’m grateful for that. I’m feeling raw, exposed, and needy as it is, and being in control is making it easy to push back my memories.

Everything is new with her, and I want her pleasure.

I want to see Beck Danvers come.

I want Beck Danvers to be my first. I want to know that I’m not that broken and I can still give her pleasure.

Stroking my hands across her thighs, I pluck up the courage and slide one palm up. I cover her pussy, seeing how big my hand is compared to her. She’s fucking tiny. She groans, watching me with half-lidded eyes as I just hold her, feeling her warmth.

I know we made a pact, but I don’t care.

I’ve never broken a rule before, not for the band, but I want to break them for her. I want to break every promise just to have her, so I do. For the first time in my life, I take something I want. Lifting my palm, I see her wetness on my skin, and I lift it to my lips.

My tongue darts out, lapping at her cream, and she bites her lip. “What do I taste like?” she teases.

“Like peaches,” I reply, dragging my tongue along every inch. “Like mine.”

Her eyes flare at my declaration. Dropping my hand, I stroke my fingers across her pretty folds before parting her, looking at her swollen clit and pretty little hole. She never once complains, not even as I stroke and explore her pussy. I want to reward her . . . to thank her. Sliding two slick fingers across her clit, I watch her reaction. She jerks, and when I circle it, she moans. I press harder, and one of her legs twitches, letting me know she likes that.

“Don’t stop,” she begs. It’s not an order, but a plea.

“I don’t plan to,” I reply, circling her clit until she’s panting, and then I slide my fingers lower, circling her hole and pressing two fingers inside up to my knuckles. Her heat sucks me deeper as she cries out. Keeping them inside her, I suck my other fingers into my mouth and then circle her clit.

“Fingers,” she gasps. “Move them inside me.”

I’m eager to please her, and her telling me what she wants helps, and I love her for it.

I do just that, swallowing as I watch them slide in and out of her. My cock is leaking now, and pleasure builds within me even though I’m not being touched. For a moment, I panic, not wanting to spill and feel that inadvertent release.

Shame fills me, but when I meet her gaze, she must see it. “It’s okay,” she tells me. “Breathe.”

Nodding, I breathe slowly, and she relaxes, letting me pet and stroke her until she cries out. Her cunt flexes around my fingers before gripping me so tightly, I know she’s coming. I stroke her through it, awed by her release. She’s fucking beautiful as she gives into the pleasure.

How could it be anything but incredible?

When she lies back, panting, I pull my hand away and lick it clean.

I feel victorious in a way I’ve never felt before. I want to shout and brag.

I made Beck Danvers come.

I’m not broken. How could I be when I can see how much she wants me?

Sitting up, she presses her hand to my chest. “Have you ever come when you wanted to, Kolton?” she asks, unbothered by my innocent fumbling.

I want to shrink away, but I refuse to. I shake my head. I’ve touched myself a lot, but every time I reach that point, I get so panicked that I stop.

“Can I?” she asks softly. “I’ll stop if you want at any time.”

I search her gaze before nodding. I want this.

I want her, and nothing but happiness fills me as she strokes my chest and then moves lower, sliding one hand into my wet shorts to circle my length. She groans as she does, and I watch her expression. “Shit, Kolton, you’re so big and hard, it has to hurt. Let me help.”

“Please.” It comes out gritted as desire returns so strongly, I can’t breathe. It’s as if she is allowing me to finally feel it.

Years of repressed desire storm through me.

“Shh, I have you. Keep your eyes on me the entire time. I’m the one touching you. It’s okay, breathe and relax. It will feel so good. You’re safe. That’s it.” My hips kick as she strokes me. The pleasure is too much, but I keep my eyes on her the entire time it builds.

I usually stop at this point, scared to fall over that cliff again and ashamed for enjoying it, but with her eyes on me ,I can’t help it.

“That’s it. I have you. God, you feel so good. I want to see you come.”

I’m lost.

It explodes through me without permission, and it’s not scary.

It’s exhilarating, like I’m flying.

I pump into her hand, gasping as it flows through me so forcefully, I fall into her. She strokes me through every last drop of my release, and when it’s over, I slump in exhaustion, but I’m smiling widely and so is she.

Pulling her hand from my shorts, she licks her glistening palm.

“Thank you.” I press kisses all over her face before kissing her lips, uncaring about the salty taste of my release. “Thank you.”

“You’re incredible, Kolt. This is your body, your pleasure, remember that.” She wraps her arms and legs around me, holding me as tears well in my eyes. I try to fight them, but she strokes my back, and with my first ever voluntary release, I cry.

I cry for what I lost, for what was stolen from me.

She holds me through it all.

TWENTY-THREE

After a few hours or so of Kolton and me swimming and playing on the slide, Chase and Trav find us. There’s a new bond between us. Every time I look at Kolt, I can’t forget the way he cried in my arms and thanked me for touching him softly.

For not hurting him, for letting him relearn his body.

How could I ever hurt someone like that?

I can’t. I never want him to cry again, though, because I want his smile.

I feel very protective of him, and he reaches for me all the time, as if he’s starved for touch, so when Trav and Chase appear and we’re playing tag in the water, they watch, both bewildered.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding.” Trav grins, crouching at the edge of the pool in just his swim shorts.

Chase lies down on a lounge chair with a drink in his hand. His shirt is unbuttoned, and he looks as beautiful and untouchable as always. I’m surprised he didn’t take one look at us and know, since he seems to know everything, but he appears to be lost in his own thoughts. No doubt seeing Ila has him reliving some of his issues, but despite what I think of Chase, I know it was his addiction.

Lifting a finger to my lips, I slip out of the pool, walk past Trav, and squeeze my hair out on Chase.

He jerks upright with a scream, throwing his sunglasses away as he sits there with his arms spread wide in shock before his eyes narrow. “Run, pretty girl,” he warns.

Laughing, I whirl around and kick out, launching Trav into the pool before I dive in after him.

I hear Chase, and when I breach the surface, arms wrap around me and drag me under. Laughing, I kick away, but hands slide over me, and when I break the surface again, I realize they took my top. Whirling, I see Chase holding my top in his fingers with a wicked grin.

“Chase,” Trav snaps, swimming to him to help, but I narrow my eyes.

Diving under the water, I head straight to him. I don’t know what he expected me to do, but it wasn’t yank down his swim shorts.

When I break the surface, he’s gaping at me, scrambling for the waistband, so I snatch my top back and swim away. I grin as I put it back on. I can feel Trav’s and Kolton’s lustful gazes on me, but I ignore them as Chase narrows his eyes on me. “Oh, you want to play dirty, Danvers? Fine.”

Yelping, I swim to Trav and climb onto his back. He holds my legs for me as I lean into his back. “Help me.”

“Kolton, you’re on my team then!” Chase calls, swimming to Kolton. “Whoever gets the others’ swimsuit first wins, no rules.”

“Deal,” I call. “I have a plan,” I whisper to Trav. “You block Kolt.”

“Got it.” Trav drops me, and I swim straight for Chase. His eyes widen as he tries to swim away before turning to face me. I should have known Chase wouldn’t back down. I hear Kolton laughing, and when I glance back, Trav is tickling him. Grinning, I dive under the water and swim right to Chase.

I slide up his body as I break the surface, and then I grab his hand, which reaches for my swimsuit, and shove it into the water as I press my body against his.

“Danvers,” he warns.

Fluttering my lashes, I grin at him as I lean closer. “What? You don’t want to play with me?”

I can feel his hard dick pressing against me, and it’s not fair, but I never did play fair. I stroke my hand down his chest then over his length, and I watch his eyes widen as I grind my palm into the very impressive bulge. When he groans, I grab his shorts and yank them down, diving under the water and swimming away as fast as I can to the shout of my name. When I emerge behind Trav, I hold them up in victory.

“I can’t even be mad,” Chase grouses.

“I wouldn’t be either.” Trav coughs as I elbow him. “Losers buy food.”

“Fine,” Chase mutters as Kolton winks at me, but we all gawk when Chase swims to the edge of the pool and pushes from the water, bare ass naked, and lies on the lounger, his arms crossed under his head.

His very hard, very huge cock stands at attention.

“How does he walk with that thing?” I wonder out loud. “Surely it gets in the way.”

“Sometimes,” he replies without opening his eyes. “Why don’t you come help me?”

“Trav, you heard him,” I tease.

“Hell no.” Trav turns away. “That naked weirdo is yours.”

“Nope, yours,” I argue.

“Are you arguing about whom I belong to? Neither of you want me,” Chase grumbles. “Usually, people argue over getting me.”

“Definitely yours.” I nod to Trav as Kolton covers my eyes, making me laugh.

“Chase, here.” I hear a wet splash, and when I peek through Kolton’s fingers, Chase’s underwear is at his feet. “Cover that monster.”

“Why, are you jealous?” Chase jokes. “It’s okay. I’ve seen yours, brother, and it’s very nice.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Trav groans. “Old man, this isn’t a nudist colony.”

“It should be,” Chase retorts. “Let’s start one, Beck.”

“I’m out,” I call, swimming to the ladders and climbing from the pool. Grabbing a towel, I dry off as quickly as I can, but when I glance up, I have three sets of eyes watching the glide of the towel with Chase’s dick practically pointing at me.

Swallowing, I grab my dress and throw it on along with my sandals. “I’m going for food.”

“Wait, I’ll come with you,” Trav and Kolton call.

“Don’t just leave me here,” Chase grumbles.

“Then put on clothes, you nudist,” I shout as I head out.

Our cabana on the private beach is covered with food and drink as we work our way through it. All our sunglasses are firmly in place. They were right, though, because no one bothers us, which surprises me. Apparently, Ila left earlier, having to get back to the airport to fly to New York for a show. There’s a new atmosphere between us all—electric.

It’s as if we crossed a line we hadn’t before. Is it because of me and Kolton or because I finally gave into their teasing? I lost myself in them today, and I can’t seem to find my way back, but as Trav slings an arm around my shoulders, I realize I don’t care.

I lean into his side, my eyes on the lapping waves as I suck BBQ sauce from my fingers. “I’m glad we came.”

“Me too.” Trav nods, sipping his beer. “Sometimes, it’s hard to remember when all we do is work, but we’re allowed to have a life as well.”

I meet his gaze before looking at the others. Kolton’s feet are wrapped around mine under the table, and for a moment, I feel guilty, but he’s smiling at me, uncaring that I’m cuddled up to Trav.

I don’t know what that means, but I don’t look too closely at it.

“I don’t know. I seem to be the only one not breaking the pact,” Chase grouses.

“Pact?” I ask, confused, and Kolton’s face freezes. “What pact?”

“It’s nothing. Here, have another drink.” Trav tries to pour me one, but I stare at Chase, seeing panic in his eyes as he watches me.

He looks guilty, which tells me that I was never supposed to know.

“What pact?” I ask.

“Beck,” Trav begins, and I shrug his arm off, turning to him.

“Tell me now,” I demand.

“We made a deal not to sleep with you,” he blurts, wincing.

“Let me get this straight. You made a deal not to fuck me?” I reply furiously. “You don’t get to decide what I do with my body.”

The guilty looks on all their faces lets me know I’m right. Even Kolton won’t meet my eyes, and I feel sick.

“It was for the band, so we didn’t ruin our relationship,” Chase sputters.

“And you took my decision away, as if my body and emotions are things to barter with.” Shaking my head, I stand. “I should have known.”

It was the reminder I needed.

“I’ll find my own way back.”

“Wait—”

I ignore them, losing myself in the crowd so they can’t find me.

Fuck them.

Fuck their deal.

They traded me and made decisions behind my back, never once considering what I want.

I was wrong. I can destroy the Dead Ringers, and I will.

Fuck them all.

It’s time to get revenge.

TWENTY-FOUR

“Fuck,” I comment as we watch her go.

Today was going so well. I might have even warmed up to Beck, but as I watch her storm away, I sigh.

“Good fucking going,” Trav snarls at me as he pushes from the table and hurries after her.

Kolton gives me a disappointed look and follows him. Rolling my eyes, I down my drink.

“Not like they weren’t there and didn’t make the fucking pact,” I grumble as I reach over and down Trav’s and then Kolton’s drinks. “But no, it’s all my fault for not lying to her. I knew she was trouble. Now here we are, chasing her when it’s our day off.”

Sighing, I climb to my feet and head after them, knowing I might as well join in. We need to fix this and fast. Despite the obvious desire between Beck and me, this is bigger. This is about the band and our future. We can’t afford to fuck that up now, not when it was going so well.

The hurt in her eyes might have also driven a knife into my gut, not that I would ever tell those assholes that. Unlike those morons, I pull my phone out and shoot her a text.

BigDickEnergy: Yo, Beck, meet us at the house and we can talk about this. There will be pizza. Trav is paying.

Just in case that doesn’t work, I pose for a picture where I’m pouting like a baby and send it.

BigDickEnergy: Friends don’t let friends sulk alone. We can talk about how much you want to break the pact.

My phone rings, and I sigh. “What?” I bark.

“Get in the car now or we’re leaving you,” Trav snarls and hangs up.

Rude.

Stomping toward the exit, since rock stars don’t run, I mutter to myself about how I should have gone solo when they asked me to. I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this shit then.

My phone rings again just as I’m heading to the pickup point out front. “One minute,” Trav warns.

Fuck.

I run as fast as my drunk legs can carry me, throwing myself into the car as it peels away. “What’s the hurry?” I grumble.

“We’re going to find Beck.” Kolton frowns like it’s obvious.

“You obviously don’t know women,” I mutter as I lean back in my seat. “Give her time to calm down so we can sit down and talk about this. If you bug her, you might lose your head . . . either one.”

“Shut up. For once in your fucking life, Chase, shut the fuck up,” Trav warns, and I blink.

“Dude, chill out⁠—”

“No, I fucking won’t!” He grabs me and hauls me closer, looking like he’s debating hitting me. Even when I fucked up in the past, Trav never lost his cool like this, not even when it cost us everything—he just looked disappointed.

His fury has me swallowing my words.

“Trav, I’m sorry⁠—”

“Shut up,” he hisses. “Why do you always have to fuck everything up? Can’t I have one good fucking thing in my life without you ruining it?” Throwing me back into my seat, he turns his head to look out of the window, his fists balled on his bouncing knees. Kolton shoots me a pitying, frustrated glare and looks back at his phone.

Swallowing the sudden lump in my throat and the pain in my heart, I stay silent. I’m unsure what to say for the first time ever. Do I really fuck everything up for them?

I’ve made mistakes, but I thought they were my friends.

I thought they understood and were there for me. Were they just hiding how they felt all along? “If you hate me so much, why do you stay?”

Trav turns his tired gaze to me. “We don’t hate you, Chase. It would be easier if we did, but I’m so damn tired of picking up the pieces of the things you break.”

“I didn’t—I don’t mean to,” I mutter.

“You never mean to, which is worse. We stayed by your side, even through your bad days, but you can’t blame drugs anymore, Chase, which tells me you might have just been an asshole all along and the drugs just made it worse. I hoped when you were clean, you would stop fucking ruining my life and be in it instead, but if you can’t do that, then I don’t know where we go from here.” He bangs on the roof. “Stop the car, I’m getting out.” He gets out as quickly as it stops, and I watch him go with my heart in my throat.

“Trav,” Kolton begins.

“I’m going to find Beck,” he mutters, slamming the door.

I watch my best friend storm away, his words repeating in my head.

Am I truly that much of an asshole?

I don’t mean to be. I just am the way I am because of everything that’s happened. I have to be to survive. Or is that just another excuse like drugs? Fuck if I know, but it hurts a whole fucking lot.

Trav and Kolt have stood by me no matter what, and I never wanted to hurt them or let them down, but I have time and time again. He’s right. I don’t have the drugs to blame anymore. In group therapy, we are taught to take control of our actions, not to blame the drugs, and to take responsibility for the hurt we caused. I thought I had done that, but maybe not.

Can they ever forgive me for being an addict?

I thought so, but maybe I was wrong.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble to Kolton.

“You’re always sorry, Chase.” He peers up at me. “Just stop doing dumb shit, okay? We are too old for this. You are too old for this. When you came back, you told us you were going to make better choices. Show us that person—the person we became friends with in the first place. The one who had dreams that brought us here, who tracked down every producer and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Show us the person who created Dead Ringers, not the asshole who keeps breaking it apart.” He gets out of the car too, leaving me alone with my turbulent thoughts and aching heart.

Can I ever be the person I was before?

I can’t change what I’ve done, but they are right. I can change my future. I don’t want to keep hurting the people I love, but I also can’t be the Chase they want. I’m just different now, and most of the time, I don’t really like myself either, but each day is a day to be better and move forward.

Maybe it’s time I stopped dwelling on the past and do that.

I just hope they can give me one more chance. I probably don’t deserve it after all the shit I’ve put them through, but I hope they will.

The brutal truth is, no one else gives a single fuck about me. Only Trav and Kolt ever did. Everyone else looked at me and saw what they could use. My own family never even fucking cared, but those two idiots did.

I can’t afford to lose them, so if that means trying to be a better person, I will be for them, starting now.

Pulling out my phone, I send two text messages.

BigDickEnergy: I’m sorry to both of you. I’m going to do better. I promise.

BigDickEnergy: I’m sorry, Beck. It was fucked up that we made that pact. We are idiots, but we honestly didn’t mean anything malicious by it. If you’re going to be angry, be angry with me, not Trav and Kolt. I’m sorry.

TWENTY-FIVE

Fuck!

I want to scream. I want to hit myself. I’m such a fucking idiot. I let them suck me into their lives, make me laugh, and kiss me. I let them make me forget why I’m here. They had me questioning everything.

At least they showed their true colors now. It was a stark reminder of the very reason I changed my name, my hair, and my style then packed up and moved here—not to mention, it’s also why I fucking joined their band.

It wasn’t to fuck a rock star, that’s for sure, but as angry as I am, I’m glad they told me. I’m glad I realized before I was sucked in deeper. My mind is clear again, and revenge makes my heart beat. It’s what kept me alive when I had nothing left.

When I got the news and wanted to join her.

When I was completely alone.

Now, once again, it’s my constant companion and the reason I keep moving. Fuck Dead Ringers, and fuck their stupid fame. No matter what they think, they won’t be making it to the tour. This isn’t their last shot, it’s their bitter ending, and before I’m done with them, they will look into my eyes and know who I am.

They will realize who did this to them.

Willa Leroy.

The sign proudly declares it. I don’t know when I decided to come here. I visited it the moment I stepped foot in the city, but not since then. I didn’t want to be pictured here and have to face questions, but fuck that. I don’t care. Let them see.

This grave is bigger than the one back home. Here, it’s pure granite with her name, and flowers and gifts are scattered across it. Back home, it’s worn stone, hewn by hand and made to match my mother’s, which is next to it. The empty plot between them is reserved for me.

It will be used before the end of the year.

I have no intentions of staying in this world without either of them.

Kneeling, I brush away some fallen leaves. “Hey, sis,” I whisper, tears choking my voice. “I’m sorry I got a little bit lost.” I laugh bitterly. “I get why you became so absorbed in all of this and why you felt so alone and isolated. This life has a way of doing that, huh? I guess I forgot all the sharks circling me, but now there is blood in the water, and I’ll never forget again.”

Sitting my ass on the perfectly manicured grass, I draw my knees to my chest, wishing I could hear her voice again. Not the depressed, lost little girl on the tape she left me, but the happy voice from my memories, always singing and smiling.

She was destined for greatness, and I was meant for mediocrity, but now look at us.

“God, I miss you,” I whisper. “You would know what to do. You always did. You were so brave and confident, whereas I have to think everything through. I’m trying to be more like you, but I promise you, Willa, I’ll make them pay for what they did to you. I will never let them forget the girl they put in the ground.” I glare at the flowers. “None of these people who left these really knew you. Fuck, they didn’t even realize how badly you were struggling. They didn’t see or didn’t care, and now that you are gone, they want to play the victims. Fuck them. Fuck all of them.”

Swallowing my anger, I close my eyes for a moment and try to picture her face, but it’s been so long since I saw her in person. Gone is the black-haired, snaggle-toothed teenager, and in her place is an addict, with bones sticking through her skin and lost eyes.

They say she killed herself, but I know better.

She might have been the one to step off that bridge, but she had a helping hand.

Someone or someones drove her to that railing and watched as she plunged into the cold water they had to fish her body from.

I didn’t get the tapes until a week later, two days after they called me to tell me my sister was dead. She was the only family I had left in this world.

First my mom, and now her.

I had nothing left, and then I started to listen to her hopes, dreams, and apologies for the way we left everything all those years ago. I listened to my sister spiral deeper and deeper into depression, becoming paranoid and worried. I heard the drugs and alcohol taking hold.

I listened to my sister beg for help without anyone noticing, and then I heard her kill herself.

“I should have been here. I should have protected you,” I tell her grave, tears flowing down my face. “But I’ll protect you now. I’ll make them pay. I’ll make them all pay. I promise, and then I’ll come meet you. We’ll be together again.”

Someone put my sister in the ground.

Someone destroyed the little girl who followed me around.

No, I won’t forget the sharks circling me again, and I’ll make myself bleed until they attack.

Then I’ll drown us all until the only thing that’s left is the truth.

I didn’t bother going back to the house or replying to the hundreds of texts and calls I missed from them. I buy myself a new outfit and head straight for the management meeting that’s on the calendar this morning. I might want to wreck their lives, but that means I need to be deep enough in it to do so, so I suck it up, smile, and sit in the godawful swivel chairs, ignoring them as they gape at me.

“Morning.” I nod at Rachel and Michael.

“Beck—” Kolt begins, but I push up my sunglasses and tilt my head, offering him an equally fake smile.

“Yes, Kolton?”

He swallows as he stares at me.

“Are you okay?” Trav asks.

“Why wouldn’t she be?” Michael asks. “What did you do?”

“Oh, um . . . ,” Trav stutters.

I feel Chase staring at me as he sits beside me. Kolton’s eyes hold a million questions and even hurt, but I turn away, smiling brightly at Rachel and Michael. “They didn’t do anything. I wasn’t feeling too great, but it’s fine. So what’s on the agenda?”

“Well, we were hoping to . . .” I tune him out, nodding like I’m listening.

“Beck,” Chase whispers, leaning in. I catch Rachel glaring at us since we are interrupting, so I move my chair slightly away from his. He wraps his leg around it and pulls it back until I’m practically pressed against his side. “We need to talk about what happened.”

“Chase, is there a problem?” Rachel interrupts Michael, who looks between us.

“None at all. He’s just feeling extra annoying this morning,” I inform her with a fake laugh.

“I see.” Something in her eyes gives me pause before she smiles. “Maybe you could save it for after this meeting, Chase? After all, planning is very important.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, shifting away. “After.”

The meeting is far too long, and the entire time, I feel all of their eyes on me, as if they are waiting for me to blow up. They will be waiting a while, that’s for sure, though I do like their discomfort.

“Okay, that’s all,” Michael says.

Rachel grins. “Make sure to rest, and don’t have too much fun, okay? Guys, I’ll pop in and see you together for our monthly catch-up.”

Good, she can distract them and keep them away from me. “Oh, and Beck, can I talk to you for a moment?” I nod as they file out, and she heads around the table, sitting on the hard surface. “How are you finding everything?”

“It’s fine,” I tell her.

She smiles brightly at me, and I wonder why the guys haven’t hit that. She’s beautiful and clearly knows it. “Good, just a little thing. A picture came out with you and Kolton in the back garden getting cozy. Just be careful, okay? Paparazzi see everything, and we wouldn’t want to ruin this tour.” She sighs. “The guys are flirts, but don’t let them walk all over you.”

“Sure, sorry.” I get to my feet. I can’t promise it won’t happen again.

If I have to fuck all three to ruin them, I will.

I don’t care what it takes anymore.

She smiles tightly at me. “Make sure to rest and behave just like the boys. All eyes are on you, waiting for you to slip up.”

Nodding, I leave the room quickly. Her job must suck, but she makes it work. A part of me thinks she will see straight through me and notice the liar and schemer underneath if we spend too much time together. She has sharp, knowing eyes.

Heading to the elevators, I tug down my shades, ready to get my plan underway, but I failed to see the guys waiting on the sofas. When I do, I sigh and turn away, hurrying to the next bank of elevators to avoid them.

“Wait, Beck, where are you going?” Trav calls, jogging to keep up with me.

“We might be bandmates, but we don’t have to spend all our time together, do we? I’m going out. I’ll be back for rehearsal this afternoon.”

I step into the empty elevator, but so do they. Sighing, I lean against the back wall as we descend the ridiculously tall building. “Beck,” Kolton begins, “we are really sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I say, hoping they drop it. I need them to believe I have forgiven them or I’ll never be able to do what needs to be done if they are watching my every move, so when Chase slams his hand into the emergency brake and turns to me, cornering me into the back wall, I relax and force myself to stay calm.

I ignore my fluttering heart as he leans in. “Saying it’s fine is bullshit, and we don’t do bullshit. We fucked up, and we are trying to apologize. Stop acting like a frosty bitch.”

Okay, that pisses me off. “Oh, real nice apology,” I snap, hitting his chest to push him away.

He doesn’t budge, and Kolt moves to my left, Trav to my right, boxing me in. All three stare at me intently.

Annoyed, I push my sunglasses onto my head and relax into the wall. “Fine, I forgive you. Now, I have things to do. Can we get moving?”

“Not until we fix it,” Trav says. “We made a stupid mistake, but you have to know, Beck, we did it because we didn’t want to fuck this up. It was before we got to know you. It was dumb, and we are sorry. All of us. What can we do to fix this?”

“Want us on our knees, pretty girl?” Chase whispers seductively, his dark eyes locked on me. “Or want us to break the pact for you?”

Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms to keep them away as Kolt moves closer. “We already broke it,” he admits, making me glare at him, “and I regret nothing. The pact was a stupid fucking thing to do. I like you, Beck. I like you a whole lot, and I don’t want you to regret what happened between us because of that mistake.”

“Shit, you broke the pact?” Chase groans. “I thought it would have been this guy.” He jerks his thumb at Trav, and I glance to the right to see his face, filled with envy, as he looks from me to Kolton.

“You fucked?” he snarls.

“It’s none of your business,” I retort, trying to move out of their circle of arms, but they don’t let me. If anything, they move closer as that annoying alarm blares since we are stopped.

“You are going to get us into trouble with management,” I comment casually. “If someone leaks you doing this in here with me⁠—”

Chase turns, and I watch, open-mouthed, as he rips off his shirt and reaches up, covering the camera with it. When he turns to me, he’s half naked. All his muscles and tats are on display, and I hate my body for reacting. I hate that I look and that I like what I see.

“Now you have to make it even, pretty girl,” Chase murmurs, and my eyes jerk up to him. “We can’t have jealousy coming between us, can we? We all want you, and you clearly want all three of us or you wouldn’t have been annoyed.”

“I’m not fucking you, Chase,” I reply incredulously.

“Oh, you will, we both know that, but not here. You at least kissed Kolton, so unless you want to be the reason we break up, since Trav is watching Kolt like he’s the enemy now, you have to kiss both of us. Make it fair.” He grins. “And know, in the future, what you do with one of us, you do with all or none.”

“Oh, that’s ridiculous,” Kolton protests, but Trav huffs.

“No, I agree. I’m jealous. I’ve wanted to kiss Beck since the moment I saw her. If this is the only way we can keep it fair and have no fighting, then yeah. Either all of us or none. New pact.”

“One I don’t agree with,” I remind them.

“You don’t want to kiss me?” Trav asks sadly. “You want Kolton, but you don’t want us?”

Jesus fucking Christ.

I can tell they aren’t going to let this go, but I need them on my side. That’s the only reason I agree.

“Fine, I’m attracted to all three of you,” I admit, throwing them a bone, “but that doesn’t mean I’m going to fuck all of you.”

Chase nods. “Fine, but make it even or we will never let this go. Trav’s the jealous type, and I like to share. What can I say?” Licking his pierced lip, Chase runs his eyes down me, as if finding out I hooked up with Kolton has released him and all that power is now aimed at me. “I like to share my toys.”

“I’m not your toy,” I retort before turning and grabbing Trav’s shirt. I haul him down to me, our lips clashing. It started as a way to shut them up, to get off this stupid elevator, but as his lips move against mine, desire bursts to life within me.

All my anger and hatred seeps into the kiss, turning it hard and lethal. It’s a punishment, one he doesn’t seem to mind.

He groans into my mouth as he grips my hair, tilting my head back as he presses his body against mine. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, and I feel all our pent-up desire. It flows from us until we bite and lick each other.

“Shit, that’s hot.” Chase’s words make me pull back. Blinking, I stare into Trav’s dilated eyes.

His lips are parted, and his chest heaves with his heavy breaths. “Beck,” he whispers.

Licking my lips, I step back and turn to Chase. “Fair is fair, pretty girl,” he tells me as he advances on me like a predator hunting his prey. He’s all dark eyes and slick words, and even as angry as I am, I want this.

I want the release of energy when we come together.

Chase backs me into the wall. One hand grips my neck, while the other slides down my body to haul my leg up and wrap it around his waist as he grinds into me. His mouth covers mine in a hard, brutal kiss. Unlike Trav’s, it turns teasing.

It’s a seduction, I realize, as he licks my mouth and sucks on my tongue.

He uses his mouth and body like a weapon. I know Chase has slept around, and it shows in the pleasure he demands from my body. The boy knows how to kiss, and he knows it when he pulls back. I expect a smirk, but he’s wide-eyed as he stares at me.

We are all silent, unsure what to say, our heavy breathing filling the air as I drop my leg and push him away. “There, fair is fair.”

My voice is hoarse, but they don’t seem to be doing any better. Trav and Chase look at me like they didn’t expect me to do it, like I rocked their whole damn world, and Kolt is watching me, seeming unsure.

Panting, I meet Chase’s blazing eyes as he leans in. “Oh yes, Beck, I think sharing you would be delicious. Don’t you, pretty girl?”

I push him away again, straightening my clothes. “Even?”

Trav groans. “Not even close.”

“Sir, is everything okay?” comes a panicked voice from the speaker.

Moving past them with a smirk, I hit the button again and we start to descend. Once we reach the ground floor, I slide my shades down and turn to look at them. “See you at rehearsal.”

TWENTY-SIX

“Ididn’t expect her to actually do it,” Chase mutters, putting on his shirt as we walk through the lobby. “But fuck, I’m glad she did. I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed like that. No wonder you’re so obsessed, Kolt.”

As angry as I am at Chase, I want to grovel at his feet in gratitude for daring her to kiss us. It might not have been the way I wanted to kiss Beck Danvers, but fucking hell, what a kiss. Chase is right about that. I’ve never been kissed like that. I felt my whole world fucking shift around me, and I was completely lost. It’s never been that intense, and all I can think about is kissing her again.

I don’t even care that she kissed Chase, but I do worry about Kolton. I’m jealous they hooked up, but he knew I was into her. I’m also happy for him. If he can touch Beck and they like each other, does that mean we are getting in the way?

Is he angry at us?

Shit, everything is so messy. No wonder Chase wanted the pact. For once, though, it’s not just him messing everything up. “We should talk. Come on, let’s hash it out.”

We find a quiet café away from the buzz and sit outside in the courtyard. The heaters are off this time of year, and after ordering, we wait for the waitress to leave. She looks bored and uninterested, but you never know. She might have recognized us and is listening in, so I keep my voice low.

“I think we should talk about what happened,” I begin.

“Sure, I have no regrets though. I didn’t think she would actually do it. I thought she’d slap me and get her anger out.” Chase chuckles. I dart my eyes to Kolton, who is sitting back in his chair, watching us, and Chase winces.

“Are you comfortable with what happened?” I ask Kolt. “You clearly like Beck.”

“As do you.” He nods and then smiles when I shrug. “I’m fine. Okay, I was a little jealous and angry at first, but I actually didn’t mind watching.”

“You dirty dog!” Chase barks out a laugh.

Kolt grins but rolls his eyes. “I just mean that as long as she’s okay with it, so am I. We aren’t dating. She never mentioned anything about being exclusive, so I can’t hold her to my standard simply because I don’t want anyone else but her. We had fun, and I really like being around her. Yes, I like her a lot, okay?”

“We know,” Chase says softly, “and you’re okay with touching her?”

It’s not jealousy or pity. It’s a genuine question filled with hope.

I await his answer with bated breath, knowing how much Kolton’s struggled. If he can find happiness with Beck, I’m all for it—as long as he doesn’t ask me to back away, because I don’t think I would be able to anyway.

“I don’t feel anything but desire when I’m with her. There were some . . . uncomfortable memories, but she helped me through them,” he admits.

We quiet down when our drinks arrive, thanking our waitress, and when she’s gone, I say, “Then I guess we wait for her next move. It’s all up to her.”

“True, but are we all okay with sharing her?” Chase asks.

“As long as it doesn’t cause issues in the band, then I’m okay with it,” I reply. I don’t think I could sway her away from Kolton anyway, and her and Chase have an insane amount of chemistry that lights up the room when they are together. If I can have her while keeping my band together, then I’ll do whatever it takes.

“I’m okay as long as she’s comfortable and happy,” Kolton adds.

Chase nods. “Okay, then we leave it to Beck.”

He’s being extra thoughtful today, and I eye him as he sips his coffee. Is it because of the shit I said? Part of me wants to ignore it and pretend we are all okay, but I know unresolved emotions aren’t good for someone still struggling with addiction.

“I’m sorry, Chase, about what I said yesterday. It was unfair and cruel. Yes, you’ve made mistakes, and yes, sometimes I get frustrated, but you are my friend. You’re like a brother to me, and we’ll figure it out together. I shouldn’t have taken my worry and frustration out on you. That wasn’t fair.”

“You weren’t totally wrong,” Chase admits, playing with his coffee and spoon. “It’s time I stopped blaming my addiction for everything. I want to be better, I really do, and I’m trying.”

“We know,” Kolton says. “We really do.”

“You guys are brothers to me. You are the only people who stood by me through it all. I would hate to think I was hurting you in any way,” he murmurs. Chase isn’t good with emotions, but he has gotten better through group therapy, and it’s nice to see him express them. “Just tell me next time, okay? I know you didn’t used to call me on my shit in case it sent me spiraling, but I’m a big boy. Call me on it.”

“You got it.” I nod.

“Like how that shirt is horrible?” Kolt grins, and we can’t help but laugh. Everything seems to go back to normal between us.

Drinking my coffee, I watch the world go by outside. “I think we should do something nice for her, you know? She’s in a new city, joining our band and the tour. It’s been a lot, then add us all lusting after her . . . We should get her a gift or something, show her we’re not just . . . I don’t know. Maybe that’s dumb.”

“No, I like it,” Kolt says. “Let’s go shopping.”

“Oh God, no, not with him.” I cringe as Chase sits up.

“Oh, this is going to be good.” He laughs evilly as he rubs his hands together, and Kolton and I share a worried look.

If there is one thing Chase Reed can do better than sing, it’s shop.

The man makes it into a sport and runs it like a fucking Olympian.

We stand with bags hanging from our arms and wrists, watching him move around the stores with scary precision, like a hunter searching for the perfect present.

“I’ll take this in rose gold with the matching earrings.” He points at something in the jewelry case before moving on. “I’ll take three of everything”—he points—“in blue and yellow if you have it.” He moves deeper. “I also want this in black.” He throws the item behind him as the associate grabs it.

“Chase, this is way too much,” I begin.

“She has barely anything, just a duffle bag.” He shivers in revulsion, his eyes landing on a dress before walking over. He picks it up, eyes it, then puts it back down.

I look to Kolton for help, and he shrugs. Sighing, I wander through the aisle to avoid his crazy. I find myself in the dress section, and even though I hate shopping, I drop the bags near the one on display there.

It’s perfect.

“Excuse me, we’ll take this too,” I call, and then the associate runs to the back to grab it. My smile widens at the stretchy dress. It hugs the mannequin, and my mouth almost waters as I imagine how it will hug Beck’s curves. It’s sleeveless and has holes cut throughout—one in the chest, one high on the left hip, one lower on the right thigh, and one on the back.

It’s beautiful and edgy, which makes it perfect for our rocker.

“Knew you would get involved,” Chase comments, and I turn to see him leaning on a railing. This whole floor has been shut down for us. With one flash of his eyes and smile, they eagerly agreed to do it. “How do you feel about me getting us matching necklaces? It’s a trick question, by the way, because I already got them. They are being engraved.” He strides forward, stopping at my side. “Nice pick.” He claps my shoulder. “She’ll love it.”

“You think?”

“I know. Beck Danvers loves pretty things—that’s why she likes us so much. Come on, let’s get you measured for a new suit while we’re here.”

Nodding, I grab my bags and follow him, wondering what Beck is up to now and what will happen when we see her again.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Fuck their apology and their kisses.

Fuck them for making me want them.

Desire is a double-edged sword, and even though them wanting me makes my job easier, I hate that I want them back.

I can still taste them on my lips, feel their hands on me, and see the looks in their eyes as I walked away. I’m betting no one has left Chase Reed panting and wanting before. I did, and part of me both hates and loves it.

I’m so confused, but I can’t get lost again.

I need justice for my sister and revenge for what happened, and if they were involved, then I’ll take them down. Ignoring my desire, I head to the city library. I keep my shades on and add a hat. I don’t expect anyone to notice me, since I’m no one compared to the guys, but I can’t be too careful. I need everything to go perfectly, which means I need to blend in.

I scan a card under a false name, and like I did the day I came to the city, I head to the back and settle in to read the news. The more I know about what happened and who they are, the better. I could just ask them, but they won’t tell me.

I need the truth.

I dive into the news that came out after her death.

Tragedy Strikes Dead Ringers Again, Singer Dead!

Lead Singer of Dead Ringers Found Dead!

Was it Drugs? Lead Singer of Dead Ringers Dead.

They don’t even mention her name. To them, she is just a nameless face, another dead rock star, not a person, and my stomach churns at the way they speak about her.

The lead singer was clearly struggling with addiction, pictured high. Did drugs play a role in her death?

The lead singer lasted a little longer than most, but is Dead Ringers cursed in the lead singer department? At this time, results are not back yet on the cause of death, but drugs are suspected as she was seen partying, drinking, and doing drugs right up until the day of her death alongside band members and other celebrities.

Our reporters have dug into the troubled singer’s past and found a long, torrid history of alcohol and drug abuse. Most are assuming this is the reason for her untimely death right before Dead Ringers was supposed to head out on their sold-out tour. Their recent history is littered with bad decisions and tragedy, one right after another. Are the Dead Ringers cursed? Is this the end of the infamous rock band, or will her death simply catapult them into higher stardom?

Most are just cover-up stories or they blame my sister, which figures, but there is one that catches my eye.

Willa, Lead Singer of Dead Ringers, Kills Herself—Who is Really to Blame? The Drugs or the People Around Her?

I scan the article quickly.

Willa’s tragic passing was announced yesterday. Coroners have not yet reported the cause of death, but there seems to be no foul play. The band released a statement, expressing their grief and confusion on her passing, but was it just another PR statement to cover their many wrongs? They have gotten off scot-free on crimes due to their connections and money. Dead Ringers has a past filled with sordid secrets and misdemeanors they never faced any punishment for. It seems that Willa was no different, just another casualty on their way to the top. Her name is not the one on everyone’s lips, however, but theirs is. Many are blaming drugs, but anybody who has seen recent photos could see the young singer was struggling with the lifestyle and perhaps friction within the band, so why didn’t anyone step in?

Why didn’t anyone help, including her own bandmates?

Only time will tell what happened to Willa, and for the sake of fans and everyone out there, I hope we remember that she was a person, not just a member of a band. We offer our sincerest condolences to any family members or friends of Willa and hope the truth will come out.

My eyes land on the name of the reporter who wrote it—Ben Miller. Grabbing my phone, I look him up and see he no longer works for the gazette. Was he fired for this article? It doesn’t throw a good light on the industry or Dead Ringers, and we all know what rich people are willing to do to cover their mistakes.

I do find a website and a blog where he is still reporting. His newest headline reads, “Fallon—Star or Fraud. New Truths Shock the World.”

I scroll down until I find an email, and I shoot one off quickly. Dropping my phone to the table, I drum my fingers impatiently, wishing he would reply. He’s the only one who didn’t turn a blind eye to her death or blame her. No, it’s clear from his articles he wants the truth, and so do I.

We can help each other.

While I wait, I grab a coffee and read fan sites, skipping over mentions of me and pictures with the guys. Some are really nice, and some are horrible, but I refuse to give them any traction inside me. I remind myself that this isn’t real and that I don’t care if they like me or not.

I also ignore the calls from the guys and look for mentions of my sister. An hour later, I find one. It’s on a blog ran by fans who call themselves Ringers.

MusicLover29: My friend works for their label, and he heard that she killed herself and they are trying to cover it up. Rumor is, she went to them for help and they ignored her. How fucked up is that?

It’s an offhand comment, but it chills my heart. They knew.

They had to have known. The fact that I touched them makes me sick, but I swallow it down. I can take some self-hatred and sickness if it gets me what I want. Just then, my phone vibrates with an unknown number, and I answer cautiously.

“I received your email. Let’s meet. There is a coffee shop on West and Fifth, Doors, one hour.” He hangs up.

Putting my phone away, I drain my coffee and hail a taxi.

“Ben Miller?” I question, and the man’s head jerks up.

The coffee shop is quiet at this time of day, since the dinner rush is over. There are just some bored employees working behind the wooden counter. The windows look out onto the street, but in the back, in the hidden alcove, it’s almost silent.

A laptop sits open before this man, a darkened phone next to it.

He’s not what I was expecting. He has a short brown beard, kind brown eyes, and styled brown hair. He’s young, maybe only a few years older than me, and dressed in a button-up and jeans. When he smiles, it’s kind.

It’s not the sharp shark grin I was expecting from a reporter.

“Please sit.” I do, and when I tug the hat off, he nods. “Beck Danvers.”

I shush him, looking around before leaning closer. “Not that loud.”

He nods, watching me with sharp, intelligent eyes. “You’re the new lead singer for Dead Ringers, so why did you seek me out, asking for help? I’m not on their fans list, that’s for sure.”

“That’s exactly why,” I tell him honestly, stretching out as I release a breath. It’s now or never. I have to trust someone, even a little bit. “I want to know what really happened to Willa. I want the truth, and I think you do too.”

“I lost my career trying to find out the truth and expose the corruption within that industry,” he mutters. “What makes you think I can or will help you?”

“Because of the way you wrote that article. You cared about her and what happened, and you risked it all to tell people the truth,” I explain.

He watches me carefully, his jaw working. “How do I know this isn’t a trap?”

“You don’t, and neither do I.” I sit back and wait as a coffee appears. When the waitress departs, I stir the iced drink. “But we are going to have to trust each other. After all, we want the same thing.”

“What do I get out of this?” he asks.

“You will get all the inside details, the exclusive. Your name and career will be restored, no more tiny blog. You’ll be respected again. You know if this is going to happen, it has to be now, with me on the inside.”

“Who are you?” he asks, watching me carefully.

“A friend of hers,” I answer.

He startles and leans closer as I take a sip.

“Maybe one of her only true friends, and I want to know what happened. More than that, I want revenge against whoever pushed her off that bridge.”

“There was no evidence anyone was there with her,” he says, confused.

“Not literally, but we all know she had a helping hand that put her on that ledge. She saw no other way out. She was trapped, all alone and suffering. They might not have physically pushed her, but they helped her climb onto that ledge.”

Nodding, he taps the table as he watches me. “I never heard her mention you.”

I blink, tilting my head, and he smiles. “I met her on their press tour. She was kind. She was new then, so new and shiny.” He swallows. “I watched that light dim, and there was nothing I could do. The bigger she got, the more the light died in her gaze until there was nothing left of the girl I first met . . . the girl I liked.”

“I know,” I hedge. “I won’t spill all my secrets yet but know I’m on her side. I want them to pay for what they did. The question is, do you?”

“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. “I want whoever is responsible for that girl’s death to pay and suffer like she did. More than that, I want everyone to know the truth so they stop referring to her as the druggie singer who took her own life. I want them to respect and grieve her. I want her to be remembered.”

I stare into his brown eyes and wonder what the story behind my sister and this man is. It’s clear he cared about her a lot. Did she . . . Was she blinded by the glitz and didn’t see his hand reaching out?

“She left me tapes,” I admit. “She sent them to me weekly. The last few came after she died.” He blinks as I slump. “I heard her spiral. I heard her kill herself. I know someone in the label was part of it, but I don’t know how deep it goes. That’s where you come in. If we are both digging, then we can get the truth—inside and outside.”

“Do you think Chase, Kolton, and Trav are part of the reason?” he asks.

“I don’t know, but I’ll find out.”

“And when you do, can you pull the trigger on your own bandmates?” he queries, arching one brow.

“I’ll put the gun right to their heads if they were involved. They won’t even see the bullet coming.” I stand. “You have my number. Let’s keep each other updated.”

Standing, he reaches for me, grabbing my wrist as he peers into my eyes. “You have the same eyes as her.”

“That’s what our mom always said,” I say as I turn away. “Now they are just a reminder that I failed her every time I look in the mirror. I won’t this time.”

Putting my shades and hat back on, I head out to find the truth, whatever it takes.

TWENTY-EIGHT

We eagerly wait for Beck to come home, the presents spread out across the living room. We fucked up, and we won’t stop until we have her forgiveness. If that means sharing her with Chase and Trav to keep this band together, then I will because I can’t lose Beck Danvers.

It isn’t just because she brought me back to life and showed me pleasure, but because I like her a lot. Without her, I’m empty. I want what I find in her touch and eyes. I want this, even if it’s shared between us three. She didn’t seem to mind, and if anyone can take all three of us, it’s her.

She’s one hell of a fucking woman.

No, I’m not jealous, just worried about how she will react now that we’ve decided to share her and the gloves have come off. The pact is broken and gone, so there is nothing holding us back. This could end badly, but if we crash and burn, then we’ll do it together, knowing it was worth it to have her—or we might soar higher than ever before.

When the door opens, we all sit up, and when she turns the corner, she stills and blinks. “Why do you all look like puppies waiting for their owner?”

“Woof,” Chase barks, making her grin.

Her eyebrow rises when she sees the bags and boxes covering every surface. “Did Santa stop by or some shit?”

“If Santa is a sexy as hell rock star,” Chase flirts as Trav chuckles.

“They are for you, our apology, and to help you feel more included.” He gestures around as I perk up.

“Our apology presents.” I nod. “And to welcome you to the band. They are just some things we thought you might want or need.”

“There is a whole department store in here,” she comments dryly.

“And we did it all in under two hours,” Chase tells her. “Impressive, right?”

“Or doesn’t bode well. I had a feeling you were speedy,” she retorts, heading inside.

“Two minutes in the van, baby?” he flirts. “You want in?”

“Baby, you couldn’t handle two minutes with me,” she replies, and he covers his heart, falling backwards.

“Try me. I’d die a happy man.” He licks his lips. “Trust me.”

She leans over him, and I watch his eyes widen at her closeness. “Trust you? Never,” she whispers with a grin as she grabs his drink and sips it, looking around. “Is this really all for me?”

“Yep.” I beam, unable to help myself. She looks around, and I wilt. “Uh, did we mess up?”

“No, no, it’s just . . .” She swallows as she eyes the presents and me. “I’ve never received a gift before.”

Chase scoffs. “Not ever?”

“No, we were poor growing up, so we just had a nice meal on birthdays or holidays and that just became a habit,” she admits softly.

Chase snaps his mouth shut as I share a look with Trav, who seems ready to head back out and buy the world for our girl, just so she never goes a day without a present again, but it’s Chase who surprises us.

“Then you can have one from us every day to make up for it,” he declares. “You’re a rock star now, pretty girl. Open your gifts.”

She just stands there, clearly overwhelmed, so I pick a small black box with a red ribbon—we had them all wrapped the same. “Here,” I offer. “This is from all three of us.”

She takes it and sits on the coffee table, looking between us as she undoes the bow, carefully folding and placing it aside before tugging off the lid of the box and setting that aside too. Chase sighs in annoyance because he likes to rip into his presents, but I glare at him, and he snaps his mouth shut.

She breathes slowly, staring at the gift, and I lift the chain now hanging around my neck to show her. “We all got one,” I tell her, “to show we are a united front, a family.”

She looks up at me, seeing the pendant on the chain around my neck, before looking at Chase, who unbuttons his shirt the entire way, making my eyes roll, and shows his hanging between his pecs. Trav lifts his and proudly lays it over his muscle tank before she looks back down and pulls it out.

Hanging from the long silver chain is a skull with a guitar through it, and engraved on the back is the word “family.”

Swallowing hard, she puts it back in the box. “Here, let me help you.” I move closer and unhook the clasp, moving her hair aside. I lay it low on her neck and fasten it. “There,” I murmur as she shivers, her hand covering the pendant.

“Here, this one next.” Chase throws a box at her, interrupting our moment, and I move away again as she catches it. She opens it and finds the bikini inside. One by one, we hand her the gifts. She’s obviously overwhelmed, but she gets into the spirit, grinning and laughing at our choices and guessing who picked what.

Surprisingly, she likes the ones Chase picked the most, as if he got her taste down to a T.

Boxes litter the entire room, as does bright red ribbon which covers nearly every surface, even us.

“It’s a shame to waste the ribbon.” Trav grins, wrapping it around his hands and tugging as he winks at Beck. “I can think of some uses.”

“So can I.” She grins and grabs a section as she saunters over to Chase, who leans back, watching her approach. His thighs are parted, and his shirt is still open, showing his chest. He pats his knee when she gets closer, his dark eyes needy.

Sliding onto his lap, she leans into him, giving me a clear view of her perky ass. His hands come up and grip it, dragging her farther into his lap. I watch her bring her hands up as she wraps the ribbon around his head.

I burst out laughing as his eyes widen in horror as she ties it off, closing his mouth so he can’t speak. “That’s better.” She giggles as she slides from his lap.

“Mean,” he mumbles, reaching for it, but she smacks his hand and sits on his knee as she grabs another box.

His eyes drop to where she’s perched on the end of his knee, her dress pulled up, and he groans. He grips her thighs, holding her as she opens the rest of the presents.

A new tension fills the room, one we know all too well.

We all want Beck Danvers, and the more she plays with us, the more we want her.

I wonder how long it will be until one of us snaps and does something about it.

TWENTY-NINE

Ispend hours opening the presents they bought me, each one more beautiful than the last. There are clothes, jewelry, and knickknacks, all luxury and designer. It’s overwhelming.

We decide not to rehearse today, since none of us can be bothered. I try to ignore the electricity in the air as I push boxes and ribbons to the side. They help me take my presents upstairs, filling my room. I don’t know what to say, I didn’t ask for them, but I do thank them.

My plan is still in place, however, so I grab some liquor bottles, drop them onto the table, and smirk. “How about we play a game and get drunk?”

Chase smirks. “Pretty girl, you had me at drunk.”

Trav grins, stretching out on the sofa with his arms above his head, displaying his lean muscles. He lost his shirt somewhere and is just in low-slung jeans, showing off his tats and looking every inch the playboy rock star. “What game?”

“Truth or dare?” I suggest.

“I’m in.” Kolt grabs some glasses and starts pouring us some heavy drinks as I sit on the settee, eyeing them.

I plan their demises and how best to destroy them while they watch me like they would let me.

“I’ll go first. Dare.” I sip my drink as music comes on thanks to Chase’s phone connecting to the speakers.

“I dare you to give Kolt a lap dance, pretty girl,” Chase says.

My gaze moves to Kolton, and I see his cheeks heat. Grinning, I down some of my drink and place it on the table before making my way to him. I lost my jacket, so I’m only wearing my short dress and heels as I grip his shoulders and roll my body to the music.

His eyes widen and his breathing stops as I slide down, almost pressing my face into his crotch. I feel his body come to life under mine. As I move back up, I straddle his lap before I grind. My eyes meet Chase’s as he leans forward on the opposite sofa, his tongue caught between his teeth.

The electricity is palpable in the room, the alcohol and music making it worse. I straighten and roll my hips as Kolt gasps, gripping the sofa hard as he watches me. Leaning in, I stop inches from his mouth. “I can feel how hard you are.”

It’s a tactic to get them to lower their guard so I can get what I want.

When the song ends, I slip from his lap and grab my drink, sitting once more. “Kolt, your turn,” I announce.

“Um . . .” He coughs, his voice rough as he blinks, his face bright red. “Truth.”

Interesting.

“Boring.” Trav groans. “Okay, truth. Do you want to fuck Beck?”

“More than anything.” His voice is tight with hunger.

“My turn,” Chase says, ignoring the usual rules. He downs his drink and pours another. “Dare.”

“I dare you to take off your pants.” I smirk.

“Baby, you didn’t need to dare me to do that. If you want my pants off, just ask.” Standing, he unbuckles his belt and unbuttons then shoves them down. He sits back down in his boxers as he watches me.

“It’s Trav’s turn.” I turn my gaze to his. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

I smirk. “Kiss Chase.”

He grins even as Chase groans, and without waiting, he gets to his feet, grabs Chase by the neck, and almost drags him up from the sofa. “What the fuck, man?” Chase starts, but Trav silences him by pressing his lips to his.

I see tongue slipping between their lips as Chase grips his shoulders and kisses him back. My core throbs as I watch them. It’s hot as hell, especially when Trav tilts Chase’s head farther back, plundering his mouth before pulling away.

He winks at me, wiping his mouth as he picks up his drink. Both him and Chase are panting.

Chase laughs as he leans back. “No wonder you get all the girls.” He toasts Trav.

Laughing, I down some of my drink as they all look at me with hungry eyes.

“Dare,” I tell them, feeling the booze heating my veins and burning a path through me. I can’t get too drunk, I need to remember why I’m doing this, but when Trav’s eyes darken, I forget.

I forget that I’m not supposed to want him and that he can never be mine.

“Dress off,” he demands.

Standing, I down the drink and drop it to the table. With my eyes on his, I reach down and slowly lift it, pulling it over my head and throwing it away. Now, I’m in nothing but a matching black panty and bra set and my heels.

Kolton groans. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Too right,” Chase mutters, but my eyes don’t move from Trav as I saunter over, stopping when I’m pressed against him. His eyes flare and drop to my body with so much want, I actually forget what I was doing.

Sliding my hands up his chest, I watch his Adam’s apple bob, and then I turn my head. “Chase.”

Trav groans. “Mean.”

Chase grins. “Dare, pretty thang.”

“Got something to hide?” I challenge, turning to face him.

“From you?” He looks me over. “Only my hard cock right now.”

If he wants to play it that way, then fine.

Grabbing one of the discarded ribbons, I wrap it around his eyes. “I dare you not to take this off.”

“Beck . . .” His protest fades to a moan as I pull his shirt off, leaving him in only his boxers. For a moment, I just stare at every hard, golden inch that is Chase’s perfect body before I decide to torture him. I tease him with light touches until he arches his body, begging for me. Straddling his waist, I run my tongue over his face and neck.

He shifts under me before freezing. I can feel his heart pounding under my hand as I drag them down, my tongue following the path across his abs as I explore his tattoos before I reach the waistband of his boxers. He groans, shifting beneath me again as I grin and run my tongue across his boxers and the tent there.

“Shit, pretty girl, you’re driving me crazy.” He pants underneath me as his fists smack the sofa on either side of him. Seeing Chase Reed, the rock god, weak and practically begging beneath me is a fucking high.

Sweeping my tongue across his chest, I wrap my teeth around his nipple and bite down. He cries out, and I lean back with a grin as he reaches up with a shaking hand and rips off the ribbon. His eyes are blown with desire.

“You lost.” I grin, swinging my leg over him once more until I’m perched on his lap with my hands on the back of the sofa. “We didn’t set a forfeit, so how about a truth since you seem to want to avoid it?”

“Fine, ask away,” he grumbles, dropping his gaze to my body. He reaches for my hips, but I smack his hands away.

“No touching the merchandise,” I warn as I roll my hips, distracting him. I need answers, I need the truth, but it could backfire if I dig too deeply, too quickly.

“Ask your truth, pretty girl,” he says, narrowing his eyes as he shifts his hips and lets me feel his hard cock, “or I’ll fill your mouth with something else. “

“You wish.” I smirk. “Fine, truth, what’s your darkest secret?”

Surely it has to be about her. None of them mention her; they hide it. I know all about his addiction and past, which he’s very open about, but not her.

He blinks, his face paling as he watches me, and I cock my head as my lips tilt up. “You have to answer.”

The music pounds as I hear Trav and Kolton dancing and drinking behind us, thinking we are flirting. They have no idea I’m cutting Chase Reed open and letting all that vile evilness spread out.

He blinks, guilt and pain filling his eyes. He’s completely still beneath me. “Ask anything else,” he croaks, practically begging. “You want my body count? Which celebrities I’ve⁠—”

“Chase,” I scold. “Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

“Fucking terrified,” he admits, and it’s my turn to blink in shock. “If I tell you, you will never look at me the same way again. You will never touch me again. I will lose you too.”

Swallowing, I search his eyes, unsure what to say as his jaw grinds and he looks away for a moment before blowing out a breath.

“Our singer before you, Willa, she died—no. She killed herself. I knew she was struggling, and I did nothing. I was so fucking caught up in my own shit with addiction. When the news came out, I went into rehab, and I got clean. I knew I needed to, and I went there. I wasn’t there to defend her, and I regret it. It’s my dirtiest, darkest secret. I was so fucking dumb, too doped up and lost, that I let someone take their own life when I could have helped.”

My ears ring, and my heart stops. It’s the first time they’ve admitted it out loud and said her name. It sounds dirty and pained, like a secret, not the oath and prayer it should be.

Fine. I’ll be her retribution. I’ll be her god so they pray for her forgiveness.

I’ll be the devil if I have to, surrounded by sinners.

Our eyes are locked, so I try to hide my disgust, anger, and hatred. “You were an addict, Chase.” I push each word out, carving the word liar across my soul for them all to see. “It was not your job to help someone else.”

He blinks and nods, but I need to get away and get his hands off me. I feel sick to my stomach.

For a moment, her image flashes across his face, her mouth open on a silent scream as she plummets from the bridge.

Did she regret it?

Did it hurt?

Did she finally find peace from her troubled life, or did she fight when she hit the water? Fight for every last scrap of her fucked-up dream and reality.

I don’t know which I want to be true.

“Beck?” Chase says, interrupting my thoughts, and I blink, realizing I’ve been staring off into space.

“I think the alcohol is hitting me.” I smile, but it feels fragile, and I know he sees it, but I can’t stop it. My life has been entangled with my sister’s since the moment she was born and I swore to my mom I’d protect her. I failed her, and now my life is just a memory of hers.

A shadow.

My every waking moment is entwined with hers, and I have no happy memories anymore. They are all sour and tainted by her death.

My entire purpose was to protect my family, and I failed spectacularly.

I won’t fail again.

Swinging my leg over him, I stand and turn in time to grab a drink Kolt is offering. Chase climbs to his feet too. “I need to piss,” he says, and I watch him go.

“Dance with me.” Trav grins, totally oblivious. He grabs me, spinning me around as I laugh, forcing myself to be in the mood. I need this.

Chase is still holding back, but it’s clear his loose lips might get better with booze, so when he comes back, his expression downcast and hard, I hand him a drink. He watches me carefully before taking it and shooting it back as I smile.

“Dance?” I question, taking his hand and dragging him onto the makeshift dance floor.

His arms wrap around me as I lift my leg and place it on his hip, our bodies swaying and grinding together as the sultry music pours through the speakers. His head descends, and he runs his nose up my neck as I lean my head back.

Another body joins us, and hands grip my hips as they roll into me, sandwiching me between two hard chests. My eyes close, and I lose myself to the music.

When the song switches, we are all panting, and I tamp down the genuine desire I feel as I turn away and pour shots. “Shots,” I call.

Trav and Kolton shoot theirs. Chase watches me as he shoots his, his eyes knowing, and when he turns away to listen to Trav, I pour my shot into the nearest empty beer bottle. I need to be sober. I can’t let liquor make me numb to this.

I want it to hurt. I want to feel guilty.

The night drags on as I pour more and more drinks for them, watching them get sloppy and messy. My heart is cold the entire time.

They say you should dig two graves when you seek revenge—one for you and one for them. I’ve dug four, and I’ll throw the dirt right onto their coffins for the cameras.

Chase Reed is drunk as hell, thanks to me. Sipping my beer, I watch him dance with an equally intoxicated Kolton. My eyes track him like prey, knowing if anyone is going to spill the beans, it’s him. It was the guilt in his eyes, the panic that I saw, that made me realize I can use it against him. Mix it with booze and I have no doubt the truth will come spilling out.

One thing I didn’t expect, however, is Trav.

He’s drinking but he’s not drunk. He slumps next to me on the sofa, lifting one of my legs and throwing it over his as he sips his beer and watches them with a grin before his head hits the couch and turns to me.

His dark eyes are bright and happy, and his lips are tilted in a welcoming grin, his piercings flashing in the light. “Having fun, beautiful?”

“Hmm.” I nod, watching Chase and Kolt dance for a minute before taking a pull of my beer.

I feel it spill across my chin and lip as I glance back at Trav to see his eyes narrow.

For a moment, his eyes drop to my lips. I shiver like I feel him tracking them, and he takes that as a yes, leaning in. His thumb drags along my bottom lip before sucking the beer off his digit as he watches me. “Want to have some more fun?”

Say no.

Stay here and pump Chase for info, I tell myself, but one look at Trav’s dark eyes and I can’t.

I want him too, and I know us fucking will only tie us together and help me get what I need. Plus, when I look over at Chase, I see him slumped on the floor, completely passed out. Kolt lies across him, snoring.

My eyes jerk back to Trav as he stands, draining his beer before he tosses the bottle away. The sound of smashing glass is loud, even over the pumping music, as he offers me his hand. “Come on, Beck, let’s have our own party.”

I know exactly what he wants. It’s obvious, and I find myself placing my hand in his.

I’m a traitor, a whore for my revenge, but I can’t seem to stop.

They can have my body, my voice, and my smile, but they will never get all of me. Not before I get them. Getting to my feet, I press my body against his as his hand tightens on mine. “You think you can handle me?” I step back, keeping our hands linked as I move to the stairs, leading him after me.

“I’m sure as fuck going to try, Beck Danvers, harder than I ever have before.”

“Let’s see then.” Turning, I lead him upstairs.

Desire and sickness war within me.

I’m going to fuck the enemy, but it’s just another form of warfare.

This isn’t about pleasure or wanting someone to love me anymore. This is about being what they want, their good little whore, so I can steal their secrets.

Trav doesn’t want me, he wants Beck Danvers, and that’s who he will get.

THIRTY

Ilead Trav right to his room. I’ve never really been in it before, since they are pretty private and I didn’t want to cross that line between us, so when I push the door open, I quickly scan his room. It’s decorated in black and red with a huge black bed covered in silk sheets. He has a drum kit in the corner and posters covering a lot of the walls. There are some clothes draped over a desk chair, where there’s an open laptop on a black wooden desk. He hits a switch, and lights turn on before they dull and soften.

A red glow illuminates everything as I turn and walk backwards, holding Trav’s hand. “Beck, we don’t have to.” It’s clear he’s starting to worry he pushed me and he’s taking advantage.

I don’t need him to think; I need him to fuck me before I change my mind. Pressing against his body, I slide my hands up his chest and over his shoulders as I lean on my tiptoes and kiss him. I lick the seam of his lips until they part with a groan, and then I pull back. When his eyes flutter open, I grin and push his chest.

He hits the bed and bounces, keeping his eyes on me as I reach behind me and undo my bra, letting it drop to the floor before I step out of my thong. His dark eyes run down my body greedily as his hands fist the sheets. “Jesus, fuck, Beck, you’re enough to kill a man.”

“Is that right?” I ask as I climb on the bed and straddle him, pushing him back when he tries to sit up. I roll my body against his as I lean down, gripping his chin as I stare into his eyes. “Let’s hope so, shall we?”

I crush my lips to his so he doesn’t have time to respond or think. Groaning my name, he grabs my hips and then flips me. I gasp as he comes down over me. His lips kiss mine aggressively as he forces himself between my thighs.

He dominates my mouth, his kiss almost cutting as he pours his desire into it, and I let him.

On his silk sheets, I let Trav give me everything and become my dirty little secret.

I close my eyes and block out the guilt, anger, and pain. I let him burn them away as his hands slide across my skin, and he nips and sucks my lips before gliding across my cheek to my neck.

Gasping, I grip his shoulders as he bites and sucks the sensitive flesh there. It’s bordering on painful, but I take it.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs into my skin. “I knew you would be, all dirty, little noises and the perfect body.”

Gripping his hair, I open my eyes and meet his. “Use your mouth for something better,” I demand. If he keeps talking, it will be too real, and I don’t need to think right now.

I just need him to make me forget.

I just need to use him.

“Gladly.” He smirks as he kisses me before he slides down my body. His lips drag along my chest, stopping to suck and play with my nipples until I cry out, and then he continues along his path until his lips glide along my pussy, and his hands force my thighs open.

Trav wastes no time, as if he’s worried I’ll stop him, and that works fine just for me. I want it hard, dirty, and fast, and that’s exactly what he gives me.

The bass of the music moves through the bedroom in time with my skipping heart as I grip his short black hair when his tongue laps at my cunt. He eats me from clit to ass with dirty, sure strokes. His muscles bunch under me, his thick, tattooed arms lifting my hips and throwing my legs over his shoulders. His eyes meet mine, and he bites my clit.

I scream, the sharp pain making my pussy clench and my mind flood with nothing but pleasure.

No thoughts. “Again, more.”

His eyes turn wicked as he slowly digs his teeth into my clit until I cry out, and then he kisses the sting better. Two thick fingers slide inside my wet cunt, playing with me as he tests how far he can push me. He alternates between biting and licking until I’m a writhing, wet mess, crying out and begging for more.

He adds another finger, stretching me as he bites my clit, and all that pain and pleasure explodes as I scream, letting the music drown it out as I float above my body, looking down at us and feeling nothing but bliss for the first time in years.

His kiss brings me back to life, tasting of me and sex, as he grips my hips and lifts them. I feel his huge, hard cock press against my entrance, and then he drives into me, forcing every hard inch into my cunt until I choke on his kiss and claw at his back, which only urges him on.

He pulls out and slams back in, the bed shaking from the force, and I finally break away from his mouth. My head hits the mattress hard as I pant, my legs twitching around him.

He blows over my nipples and bites down, fucking me hard and fast as he plays my body. There’s no more talking, just like I demanded.

He bottoms out in me, and the pain has me seeing stars.

“More,” I command, my voice hoarse as I claw at his skin, trying to get into it, to get closer, to get everything.

Part of me wants this, wants it to hurt this much. It makes it easier, and I feel better for the first time in a long time. I deserve this. I deserve this pleasure to hurt. I let my sister die, alone and afraid, and here I am, living her dream.

No, let it hurt so good I never forget.

Trav’s hand grabs my throat, tilting my chin back as he drives into me.

The pain is a reminder she lived, that she was here, that she’s still with me when I have lost everything else, including myself.

No, I don’t deserve happiness or pleasure—only pain.

His earnest gaze meets mine as he brushes my hair back and kisses me, even as he fucks me. “Beck Danvers, I don’t know where you came from, but you amaze me. You make me obsessed,” he whispers. “You make me yours.” He seals his words with a kiss, enveloping me in pleasure once more so I can’t think.

Our bodies come together with slick, feral thrusts, the bed groaning with the force.

“I feel like I’ve been waiting forever for you,” he whispers against my lips between kisses as he presses his arm above my head, pinning me for his hips. He hammers into me, losing all rhythm. Sweat drips down his face and chest, and I follow the path with my tongue, unable to help it. He groans loudly, his hips stuttering and cock swelling inside me, and I know he’s close.

Reaching up, I slap his face and then jerk it down with my hand on my chin. “Don’t you dare. You don’t get to come until I come again.”

“Mean, baby.” He grins, twisting his hips so his dick drags along the nerves inside me. “You always come first, beautiful, always, so come for me. I can’t hold back. You look too good filled with my cock. You look too fucking good spread across my bed. Come for me, Beck. Come.”

His hand grips my throat as he fucks me, and when I start to see spots, I let go once more. I cry out my release, feeling his cum fill me as he yells, and all I see are dots, then I float away, feeling nothing.

A smile curves my lips.

Trav snores, lying on his front with one arm under his pillow, his other reaching for me. His hair is messy as hell and sticking up, and his silken sheets fell, showing off his marked ass thanks to my nails. His back is no better, and I turn away to slide out of bed. He groans, and I freeze. When he goes back to snoring, I pad to his open laptop.

I need evidence, I need the truth, and I’ll get it.

I fucked him, but that doesn’t mean I won’t destroy him.

It just means I have a better opportunity to.

For a moment, I hover my hand over the keys, remembering his earnest face and soft eyes as he brushed my hair back and kissed me last night. “Beck Danvers, I don’t know where you came from, but you amaze me. You make me obsessed.”

Shaking my head, I wiggle the mouse pad and bring the screen to life. The familiar Dead Ringers logo with a skull and lips appears, and there isn’t even a password, the idiot.

There isn’t much on his home screen, so I navigate to his files. I find lyrics, sheets, contracts, and merch designs, but I ignore them, scrolling through pictures while looking back at him to make sure he isn’t awake. I still when I turn back to the next picture.

It’s of him and me during rehearsal.

I’m leaning into his drums, my eyes shut as I sing, and his eyes are on me. His smile is so wide, it has to hurt. I don’t know who took it, but I swallow as I go to the next image to see it’s of me again. This time, I’m cupping my face and grinning in the kitchen. The next few are also of me. There’s a mixture of him and me, but in each one, I’m smiling and he’s watching me.

I turn back to face him, my heart racing.

Does Trav like me? A lot?

Swallowing, I turn back and close his pictures, checking the rest of his computer, but it’s clean. I shut it down again so the bright light doesn’t wake him, then I open the top drawer of his desk. Luckily, the music is still pumping from downstairs, so it covers the creak of the wood opening.

There are pens and pencils, some empty music sheets, and notebooks. I flip through the books filled with lyrics, raising an eyebrow. Trav is an excellent songwriter.

The last one makes me freeze though.

It’s a love song.

I don’t know when it was written, but one of the lyrics catches my eye.

Moon-kissed skin, dangerous eyes, and thick thighs.

Looking down, I scan the rest.

Does she know that I dream of her?

Does she know I love her?

They say it’s wrong, but how can it be when it feels so right?

Shutting it, I rummage around underneath the random junk, only to pull out an old polaroid photo. My sister is staring back at me. She’s grinning up at Trav, who has his arm wrapped around her shoulders as he beams at the photo. She looks happy and healthy.

Why is he hiding this?

Looking at my sister, I rub my chest as my heart clenches in agony. Fuck, she looked so happy. Could she have lasted like this had I only been here? Could she have had her dream?

The more I look at the picture, though, the more my suspicions rise.

She loves him. It’s in her eyes.

I glance back at the bed, anger welling inside me.

Did he fuck my sister?

Did he love her, or was he using her?

I step closer to the bed, gripping the picture, wanting to demand answers, but I turn away.

I guess nice guys don’t finish last.

I snap a picture on my phone and put it back, rummaging around for anything else. My fingers hit an old newspaper article, and I pull it out. My eyebrows furrow as I scan the words.

Four Dead in Tragic Crash.

A tragic car crash took the lives of four high school students last Saturday. The car careened off the edge of the Greenwash Reservoir early on Saturday morning. Four bodies were recovered at the scene and had passed before first responders could get to them. Two were recovered later, and it was established that the cause of death was drowning. Two others died from injuries sustained in the crash. There was one survivor who is in the hospital in critical condition, and police are hoping to speak to them if they wake.

My eyes hit the date. This was seven years ago. I glance back at Trav. He would have been a teenager then.

Shutting the drawer, I go to sneak out to investigate, but his sigh stops me.

“Baby?” he murmurs.

Stuffing the article into my underwear, I slide back into bed and his waiting arms as he sighs happily. He kisses my neck softly, and I bite down on my tongue until I taste blood.

Nausea rolls through me as I force myself to relax and allow the man who might have helped my sister kill herself hold me, his cum still running down my thigh.

I manage to sneak out of Trav’s bed before he wakes up, and after showering, during which I cried at losing that last shred of myself, I force myself to dress. I choose some comfy denim shorts and a shirt before grabbing my laptop and heading downstairs.

I stop at the bottom of the staircase.

Kolton is lying on Chase in the middle of the hardwood floor, alcohol spread around them. Both of them are snoring, and the music’s finally stopped. Shaking my head, I pour myself coffee and then head outside. This time, I choose the chairs all the way at the back, as far from the house as I can get. I settle there with my laptop on my lap.

After I make sure my screen is tilted away so even if the guys sneak up on me—doubtful, since Kolton and Chase were still asleep in the living room that looked like an addict’s den—they won’t be able to see what I’m doing, I open my search engine and start typing.

Greenwash Reservoir. I skim the facts on it before trying again.

Greenwash Reservoir car accident. A few articles pop up as I sip my coffee.

Four dead in Greenwash Reservoir.

Luckily, that gets some results, mostly from a local newspaper. It’s clear it’s a small as fuck town, maybe even smaller than where I’m from.

My eyes widen as I scan the articles, but I decide to read the last one, my heart pounding as I do.

Alcohol and drugs were found in the vehicle, and toxicology reports show all the passengers, including the survivor who’s still in a critical state, were well over the legal limit. The underage drinkers were thought to be heading back from a party after a gig in the next town when they swerved and plummeted over the edge of the reservoir. The families of those who died in the crash are demanding answers on how this could have happened, and fingers are already being pointed at the survivor who is thought to have been the driver.

Is Trav . . . Did Trav kill those four teenagers?

Why else would he keep the article? Was he in the car? Was he the survivor?

If so, it means it’s not his first time covering up a crime and starting over, but this time, I won’t let him get away with it. I guess they are right—a pretty smile can hide a lot.

I quickly send Ben a text.

Me: Might have something. Check out the Greenwash Times from seven years ago, a car crash. Dig up what you can.

Unknown: Got it.

His message comes back almost immediately, and I quickly delete the history on my browser.

It seems like everyone in this band is hiding a dirty little secret or a dark past.

Maybe that’s why they called themselves the Dead Ringers.

THIRTY-ONE

Ifeel like the biggest man in the world.

Beck Danvers was in my bed, and she stayed all night. I’m not usually a cuddler, but the idea of letting her go made my heart hurt. I slept better than I have for over a year with her wrapped tightly in my arms.

And the sex? Shit, it was the best I’ve ever had, but she was gone when I woke up. I shouldn’t be upset by that. She owes me nothing, and we’ve made it clear she’s a free woman, but when I woke and reached for her to find the spot next to me cold and empty, I was hurt.

I wanted to see her beautiful face first thing when I woke up. How could I have a bad day if I did? Instead, I shower and dress and leave my room to find her. I shudder when I reach the living room. Kolton and Chase are still passed out. Morons. I start to clean up, taking all the trash to the kitchen, when I freeze.

Beck is there, chopping something, swaying her hips to some soft music.

Fallon, if I’m not mistaken.

For a moment, I just watch her, drinking in her shapely legs, soft, messy hair, and heart-shaped face.

She is so goddamn beautiful, it hurts.

A can slips from my grasp and hits the floor, and she jumps. Wincing, I grab it again. “Morning,” I mutter, unsure if this is going to be awkward. It’s not like I have a lot of casual hookups, not really, that’s more Chase’s forte, but Beck simply smiles at me, and I relax, blowing out a relieved breath.

I would hate for her to push me away or for me to have ruined it.

I pursued her pretty hard last night, but I couldn’t stop myself with the alcohol giving me the last shred of confidence I needed. Luckily, it ended well, and as I drop the can into the recycling bin and wash my hands, I glance back at her before pouring two mugs.

“Here.” I hand her one.

She grins at me as she takes it. “Thanks,” she murmurs softly. “How did you sleep?”

I lean against the counter next to her, wrapping my hands around the mug to stop myself from reaching for her. “Best I ever have.” I grin as she giggles. “What are you making?” I ask when she continues chopping.

“Cheese and apple sandwiches,” she answers. “My mom always made them when I was sad or sick. It reminds me of home.”

It’s the first time she’s mentioned her mom or family at all, and I’ve been curious but didn’t want to pry. She’s offering now, and I press as I steal an apple slice. “Where is home?”

“Somewhere in the middle of nowhere,” she replies before turning to wash her hands and grab a plate. “It’s empty now, though, and doesn’t feel like home.” She must feel my confusion because she meets my eyes with a sad smile. “My mom died of cancer just over a year ago.”

“Oh, Beck, I’m so sorry.” I hope she can tell I truly mean it, but it doesn’t matter. Everyone says it.

“It was a long time coming. She’d been sick since I was a teenager. At least she isn’t in pain anymore,” she says as she hands me a plate. “Here, have this. I’ll make another one.”

I stare down at it like she gave me a ring. “Are we okay?” I finally ask. “After⁠—”

“Trav, we are both consenting adults. We had sex. Don’t worry, we are still friends and bandmates.” She starts chopping again as I grin and hesitantly shove the sandwich into my mouth.

My eyes widen as I chew, and she chuckles as she watches me. “Surprisingly good, right?”

“So good.” I shove the rest into my mouth as she grins, making herself one.

“What about you? Where’s home?” she asks. It’s an innocent question, just her trying to get to know me like I know her, but my soul shrivels.

“Oh, here and there,” I tell her while I refill my mug, but I sense her disappointment as she pulls away, and I hate that. I want Beck to like me. I want to be close to her. I want . . . I want this to go somewhere, but she needs to know who we are. I just don’t want to scare her off so quickly.

“It’s a tiny town in the middle of nowhere,” I admit. “I was never good at school or anything, so I bounced around, always in trouble, and when I was old enough, I left to start my dream here.”

She glances at me as I speak. “What about your family and friends?”

“My family was huge, so they really didn’t care about what I did. They were probably happy I was gone, but my little sister followed me some years later.”

“Friends?” she asks, popping a slice of apple into her mouth as she watches me.

I shrug and sip my coffee, not wanting to tell her the truth—none of them are alive to care anymore.

“So you always wanted to be in a band?” she inquires as she eats.

“Pretty much. I was in one all the way through high school. Music was my safe place. It made me happy and challenged me. For someone who was never good at anything, it was heaven,” I tell her honestly.

“I get that. What was your band’s name?”

Swallowing hard, I avert my gaze. “Ruination.”

“Are they still together?” I know she’s being nice, wanting to know my past, but I can’t.

“Not anymore. What about you?” I ask, needing to change the subject.

“Oh, I was pretty good in school and never really got into trouble. I had to look after my mom so I couldn’t. She needed me,” she says. “I had to grow up pretty quickly. I got used to paying bills, and I studied after I gave my mom her meds. On the weekends, I’d take her to treatments. She was okay at the beginning, but as time went on, she depended on me more and more, and I guess I gave up on my dreams. I graduated, and unlike everyone else, I stayed right where they left me. I was her caretaker, and sometimes, I resented it. I wanted to pursue my dreams, but she needed me. I wouldn’t let her spend years suffering alone, so I stayed until the day she died. It’s horrible, but part of me was relieved. She was in so much pain, and I was heartbroken when she passed, but I couldn’t deal with her struggling anymore, and when she was gone, the house was empty, and all the reasons I stayed were just gone. Everything was a reminder, so I left.”

“Beck,” I murmur, taking her hand. “You are an amazing daughter. I’m sure your mom was so thankful to have you. She would be so proud of you now, chasing your dream.”

“I hope so.” She smiles up at me softly, and my heart skips a beat.

I suddenly realize I could easily fall in love with a woman like Beck Danvers.

Her smile disappears as she looks at me. “What?” she asks.

“I’m just very glad you decided to follow your dream,” I tell her honestly, hoping she reads between the lines.

Her eyes meet mine, and when I lean down, needing to kiss her more than I need my next breath, her eyes shut.

We jerk apart at a bang though, the moment broken.

We turn to see a red-eyed, disheveled Chase swaying in the doorway. “What happened?” he croaks.

I turn back to Beck, and both of us burst into laughter.

THIRTY-TWO

Kolton and Chase look like death as they nurse their coffees, so when one of the phones rings, they both jump and then groan, clutching their heads. Trav rolls his eyes and grabs it, hitting speaker.

“Hey, Rachel.”

“Don’t forget, tonight is the yearly award show you agreed to go to.”

“We aren’t even entered.” Chase frowns. “We could sleep.”

“No, but you are going to show support,” Rachel snaps. “You agreed that you are going. Stylists will be there two hours before. Be nice.” She huffs, clearly knowing them too well.

“What about Beck?” Kolton asks softly.

“Oh, well, we don’t have a ticket for her,” Rachel replies, sounding embarrassed.

“It’s okay.” I shrug.

“No, she’s part of the band.” Kolton frowns. “We all go or not at all.”

There’s silence for a moment. “Fine, let me hang my ass by trying to get her in and find a stylist.” She hangs up, and my eyebrows rise.

“She hates it when plans change.” Trav grins as he slides the phone back over.

“What’s the award show?” I ask, sipping herbal tea.

“A parade of the hot and famous,” Chase grumbles.

“Exactly, you usually love it.” Kolton nudges him and smiles weakly at me. “It’s not a huge one, but many go since a lot of new artists get awards, and we want to support and nurture them. It’s red carpet, but don’t worry, you’ll be fine. We’ll have a table, and all the attention will be on the winners.”

“Just don’t get caught with your zipper down,” Chase warns. “There are cameras everywhere.”

“Noted.” I chuckle.

It’s a huge step, but I can handle it. I might even hear the rumors about them.

So an awards show it is.

I don’t know what strings Rachel pulled, but she got me in and found me a stylist and a dress. She’s a godsend. They bustle around me now, getting me ready to management’s specifications. I let them. I don’t care what I look like. It’s just another act.

I’m not me tonight. I’m her, the lead singer of Dead Ringers, Beck Danvers.

I’ll play the part perfectly, even as I wait for Ben to get back to me. Shit, that reminds me. As the stylists move away to discuss eyeshadow colors, I pull my phone out.

Me: Check out a band called Ruination. I think they were the ones who died in the crash.

I tuck my phone away as my stylist returns, grinning. “Shut your eyes, and we’ll have you camera ready in no time.”

I hardly look at myself. Despite all the photos that have been taken, I’ve never been full glam. Not ever. I look like a different person, which helps as I turn away from the mirror and head downstairs to meet the guys.

The dress is a deep emerald green, skintight, and has a long, silky train. The top, unlike the simple bottom, is a sheer corset with emerald flowers running down it in rows, covering my nipples and nothing else. The back is laced up, and a split along my thigh shows my long legs and black heels. My hair is styled with luxurious Hollywood waves pinned to the side. Luckily, my makeup is heavy with dark, winged liner. My bag is a skull, my necklace matches, and I wear more rings on my fingers than I can count.

They made me sparkle.

As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I realize I’m not the only one they made sparkle. Trav wears what looks like a silk suit, with tapered trousers tucked into boots and a waistcoat that both hugs his muscles and shows off his tats. Over the top is a matching black silk coat, with a green stripe down each arm. His hair is slicked partially back and messy, with some strands hanging in his face to make his eyes pop.

Kolton has on a simple black suit, but with his styled hair and emerald tie, he looks like a fucking showstopper. The way he wears the suit makes my mouth go dry because it hugs every hard inch of his body as he unironically poses, leaning into the wall.

Chase is, well, Chase.

Wearing an oversized, green and gray striped blazer and matching trousers, he looks every inch the dapper rock star.

And we all match.

They turn when my heels hit the stairs, and I watch all three mouths drop open. When I reach the bottom, I grin. “Red carpet enough?”

Coughing, Chase loosens his tie before coming toward me, scooping me up bridal style. “I say we skip the awards.” He turns to carry me back upstairs as I laugh, but then we hear a sharp order.

“Put her down, Chase, now.”

Oops.

I’m lowered to my feet, and then I smile at Rachel, who I didn’t even see. She nods at me and straightens Chase’s tie, her hands lingering longer than necessary before she steps back. “You all look good. Let’s go.”

“Good? Our girl looks fucking amazing.” Kolton claps.

“Dibs on the seat next to Beck,” Trav calls

“Me too!” Kolton says, making Chase grumble.

“Children.” He takes my arm and leads me from the house, leaning in. “Don’t worry, pretty girl, just stay on my arm, stay with us, and we’ll take care of you.”

“Over here!”

“Dead Ringers!

“Look this way!”

“Chase!”

“Beck!”

Surprisingly, my name is screamed a lot. The whole ride here, I was nervous, but Chase sensed it, so when I got out, he helped me. He is a perfect gentleman as he leads me down the carpet packed with reporters and other stars—the likes of which I’ve only ever seen on TV.

Trav and Kolton follow us until we are stopped and directed. Chase helps me, placing a hand on my hip and tilting his chin up. “Look aloof, like you’re above them. Don’t let them see you falter,” he tells me.

I do as I’m told, swallowing my nerves, knowing the sharks are circling.

We pose for a lot of photos before we move on. The guys sign autographs, but I still when I see a little girl with my name on a board. Ignoring the guys’ and Rachel’s urging, I hurry over, crouch, and smile at her. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She practically bounces. “My name is Beck too!” She giggles. “My brother is a fan of your band.”

“And are you?” I grin.

“No.”

I laugh, and she giggles.

“I wasn’t until you. I love your voice,” she tells me. “Can I have an autograph?”

“Of course.” I take her pen and sign, almost putting my real name.

“Can I have a picture?” she asks. I turn and smile as she snaps one, still giggling.

Rachel heads over as I’m turning back. “We are waiting,” she growls.

“This is my brother.” I turn back to the girl and stand to grin at the red-faced teenager. “He’s shy. He has a crush on Chase.”

“Is that right?” I grin. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Beck,” Rachel hisses.

Ignoring her, I hold up my hand. “Wait here,” I tell him, winking at his sister.

I hurry to the guys, who are watching me and waiting before a clear photo booth. Grabbing Chase’s hand, I interlace our fingers and drag him over. “Chase, this is . . .” I blink.

His sister nudges him, but the teenager just gawks. She sighs and shakes her head. “Andrew.”

“Andrew,” I tell him. “He’s a big fan.”

“Nice to meet you, Andrew.” Chase smiles kindly for once, reaching over and signing his poster. Trav and Kolton come over and sign it as well. “Do you want a picture?”

“Umm . . . yes.” Andrew stumbles over the words when his sister smacks him again.

“I’ll take it.” I grab his phone when he’s unresponsive, and Chase wraps his arm around the kid, smiling wide.

Andrew smiles, and I snap a few photos before handing it back as Chase drapes his arm over my shoulders. “Nice to meet you.” He waves at Andrew’s sister, and I wave as well as Rachel grabs me and starts dragging us away. When I turn back, I wave once more, seeing Andrew blushing as he clutches his phone like a lifeline. His sister high-fives him.

“We don’t have time for you to mess around,” Rachel chastises me. “You also showed off your ass while crouching in that dress. Stick to the plan.”

I wince. “Sorry, she was just so⁠—”

“I don’t care.” Rachel turns away from me. “Go now.” She pushes me, and I see Trav frowning as he stands in front of the backdrop, waiting. When I get closer, he grabs me and places me in the middle.

I smile shakily for all the cameras as he leans in. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I mutter.

“What did Rachel want?”

I glance over at Rachel, who is glaring down at her phone. “Nothing I can’t handle,” I tell him and turn back, posing with them as the cameras flash. When we move on, Rachel comes over.

“Okay, let’s do this next⁠—”

“Let’s do that slow-motion camera. It looks fun,” I comment, and her eyes flare wide.

“We don’t have time⁠—”

“Sure we do.” I smile. “You said to have fun, right? To show our faces.” I wait, smirking as she glares at me. This is more than her hating change. This is personal. “What do you think?” I ask the guys.

“Hell yes.” Chase nods.

“I’m in.” Kolton shrugs, completely oblivious to Rachel’s burning stare.

I turn back to her and smirk, looking her over as the guys head to the line for the slow-motion camera I’ve seen on Instagram. “Never scold me like a child again,” I warn her. “I’m here to be part of this band, so show me the same respect you show them. I might be new, but I will not tolerate your bitchy attitude. Whatever problem you have with me, swallow it.” I plant a fake smile on my face and turn, spotting Trav waiting for me.

He raises an eyebrow but grins proudly at me before holding out his hand.

I step forward to take it and stumble.

Something is holding me back. I hear an audible rip, and the flashes from the cameras increase. I glance back to see Rachel lift her heel from my long train. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she gushes, looking worried. “I didn’t realize it was there. Oh no, your dress is ruined. What will we do?”

She clearly expects a meltdown, or maybe for me to take it out on her as the guys hurry toward me. Kolton kneels to try and fix my ripped dress. “I’m so sorry, Beck. It was an accident. I’m so sorry.” Tears actually fill Rachel’s eyes.

Oh, she’s good, but I’m better.

“Accidents happen.” I shrug and smile, then I crouch, grab the ripped end, and yank. The tear is loud, and I hear shouts and comments as I stand, the dress now almost a mini dress, before handing her the fabric. “No harm done.”

I wave at the cameras and follow the guys over to the slow-motion camera.

“Are you okay?” Kolton asks.

“I’m fine.” I smile sweetly at him, unwilling to admit she did that on purpose. It’s becoming clear I’m surrounded by people with two faces.

I don’t know who I can trust, so I’ll play them all.

I will make them dance to my song, and when the curtain drops, so will their facades and the truth.

Fallon looks incredible tonight. I’m not into women, but I could definitely be for her. She’s someone I’ve looked up to for years. She’s an incredible artist, and her work is always in my playlists. Her voice is crooning and raw, and she does everything from pop to folk, and she kills it every time. It shouldn’t surprise me that she’s here.

There are so many tables, it’s hard to count, all covered with brilliant white tablecloths and surrounded with six to eight seats. The food is ready to be served after the show, with Champagne and wine flowing over every table. Waiters stand at the side, anxiously waiting to step in. The stage up front is massive, with giant screens to the left and right of it, and the theater we are in is decorated in gaudy reds and golds.

It’s so huge and over the top that I find myself watching Fallon to center myself.

Her chin is tilted up, and her face is serene and calm. She sits tall in the eye of the storm, and I respect that.

Her signature sleek black hair is slicked back into a high ponytail with a small wave at the end. Her beautiful face is slightly tan with minimal, classy makeup. Huge diamonds drip from her ears, and her black dress is killer.

She is quite literally the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, except maybe Reign Harrow, who is nowhere to be seen tonight.

“Why don’t you stare harder?” Chase nudges me with a laugh. He beat out Trav for the seat on my left, while Kolton sits on my right. Rachel is not at our table, but some new singers are. They introduced themselves as Western Road. They seem nice enough if shy, despite Trav trying to bring them out of their shell.

“I definitely will.” I reach over and grab my flute of Champagne, taking a sip of the expensive bubbly. “Hell, after, I’m even going to introduce myself and fangirl a little.”

“I didn’t take you as a Fallon fan,” he comments.

“Are you kidding me? I grew up on her. She’s only like five years older than me, but she was performing when I was a teenager. Her songs are like my soul.” I nod seriously.

“She is good at evoking emotions and world building. You see the guy next to her?” he asks.

“Smoking hot, dark, and handsome?” I tilt my head.

“That’s the one. He’s a newish pop singer coming up through the ranks. He exploded last year and has quickly become one of the top artists. Rumor has it, though, he’s a diva. I bet she hates sitting next to that spoiled brat.” He grins at me.

Leaning in, I let my breath blow over his ear. “And what about the rumors about you? Should I believe them?”

“Definitely.” Chase winks as he leans in and sips my Champagne. “I warned you about who I was when we met,” he flirts. His hand lands on my thigh under the table, squeezing and moving higher as he leans in again. “How about I show you?”

“I thought you said to watch out for cameras.” I swallow my own desire.

Chase Reed is devastating, and he knows it, but I can’t be another casualty in his path to the top.

“Let them see, pretty girl. I don’t care. Let them gossip and whisper about how obsessed I am with you.” I jerk my head around to his, meeting his truthful eyes. He swallows hard. “How we are all obsessed with you, despite our best efforts.”

“And the winner is Western Road!” the host’s voice interrupts, and I turn and clap, smiling brightly at our tablemates, who won the best newcomer award. I congratulate and hug them, and we whistle the loudest as they get on stage. When we sit back down, I still don’t know what to say to Chase’s confession, so I lean into Kolton.

“You cheer that loudly for everyone?”

“Nah, but I remember what it’s like to be new and have no one cheer for you. Everyone needs someone in their corner, babe,” Kolton explains, and I nod, feeling even more confused.

My eyes flit over the crowd, and I notice hardly anyone else is cheering. I get it. They’ve been here, and they know what it feels like, so they want to encourage and show others that people care.

It doesn’t align with the type of men who would help my sister up onto that bridge, but I remind myself people can be many things, and not all of them are good.

My eyes catch on Fallon for a moment. The pop star is whispering in her ear, and her eyes narrow on him in annoyance. Smirking, I look away, knowing Chase is right. She’s going to eat him alive.

THIRTY-THREE

\The award show is way too fucking long and boring. If it wasn’t for the drinks and Beck at my side, then I would have left hours ago, even with Rachel’s ruinous glare haunting me.

Maybe it’s my boredom, or maybe it’s just Beck sitting so close, smelling and looking so fucking good, but I can’t resist. I want to tease her like she teased me all last night.

Her eyes are on the stage as they drone on and on about the perfect music industry, ignoring all of its flaws, and I see the annoyance in her eyes. Using the darkened room, I slide my hand from my thigh to hers. Her dress has gaped open, exposing her left leg, and she startles at the touch, swinging her gaze to me.

Smirking, I focus on the stage even as I feel her eyes burning a hole into the side of my face. When she looks forward, I slide my hand higher, caressing her super soft skin and wanting to rub my stubbled face against the perfection to mark it up.

Hell, I’d even get on my knees right now to do just that if I didn’t think she would kill me.

She lets me touch her, so I slide my hand higher, but when I reach the top of her thigh, her own hand slaps down on top of mine and squeezes, making me look at her to find her glaring at me.

“What are you doing, Chase?” she asks.

“Just having some fun,” I murmur, glancing back at the stage. “Thought I’d liven the place up a little. Besides, you got to tease me all last night, pretty girl. I’m just returning the favor.”

“Stop it,” she demands. Trav spares us a look but just shakes his head and goes back to watching the speeches.

“No one is looking, no one is even paying us attention, but I’m looking, pretty girl. I’m looking right at you. All my attention is on you. Do you want me to stop? Tell me,” I demand, and her hand softens on mine for a moment. Her eyes hold mine before she lifts her hand and looks back at the stage.

I hide my smile by leaning in and inhaling at her neck. “Good girl,” I tell her. “Now be quiet about it or we are going to have a whole lot of news reports in the morning and will definitely be punished for misbehaving.” I lay a gentle kiss over her pulse and sit back. I keep one hand on the stem of my glass and my eyes on the stage as my other hand slides higher on her thigh.

I feel her legs part for me, the greedy girl, and I reward her by sliding my fingers inside her tiny thong and stroking her pussy. She gasps slightly and grabs her drink, sipping it before holding onto it for dear life as her legs part farther.

Sipping my Champagne, I pet her slick pussy as she slides lower into her chair to give me better access. Beck Danvers might act all high and mighty, but she wants this. She wants to be a bad girl. She wants to be touched and fucked, knowing anyone could see.

She wants me, even if she hates that.

The proof is right there on my fingers as I circle her greedy hole and cover them in her cream. I want to taste it so badly, but I know if I stop touching her, she will close up again. No, I get one shot with Beck Danvers, and I am not fucking it up.

I may not have wanted her here, and I maybe even hated her a little at the beginning, but I’ve always wanted her.

She fucked Trav and Kolton, and she is going to fuck me. We both know it, it’s just a matter of time, but for now, I’ll show her what she’s missing.

I spare her another glance to see her teeth digging into her plump lower lip, and jealousy roars through me. I wish I were digging my teeth in there, swallowing her moans and tasting her, but I settle for sliding my fingers over her pussy and rubbing her clit. I take great satisfaction when she jerks, banging her knee into the table. Everyone looks at her, and her cheeks flame.

“So clumsy, pretty girl. Maybe you should slow down.” I nod at her drink, but we both know what I mean.

Clearing her throat, she smiles shakily. “Sorry,” she tells them, and when everyone glances back at the stage where the speech is still going on, she spares me a glare. Winking, I circle her clit slowly as we stare at each other. I watch her pupils dilate, her plump lips part, and her cheeks heat even further.

There has never been a more beautiful sight, and when she rolls her hips slightly, my cock nearly bursts from my pants, pressing uncomfortably against the zipper. I debate throwing her over my shoulder, hauling her to the bathroom, bending her over, and fucking her raw and hard, but I know she would be pissed.

Later, I tell myself.

I wanted to give her pleasure, to drive her crazy, but it seems I’m doing the same thing to myself.

Focusing on what makes her eyes slide shut, what makes her hips lift, and what makes her gulp her Champagne to stop from crying out, I store it away like I do when I’m learning a new instrument, memorizing it to perfect my performance.

She likes when I rub her clit softly. It drives her mad when I circle it, but when I pinch it? The girl almost screams. I have so many naughty ideas filling my head, and I file them away for next time—and there will be a next time. I’ve barely touched Beck and I want more. I want to see her come apart under me. I want to see those delicious curves marked by my mouth and hands as I hammer into her little cunt.

I want to rip her apart and make her mine.

Sliding my slick fingers down, I thrust two inside her, and she chokes on her sip of Champagne. Trav pats her back, silently checking on her. She waves him away, lifting slightly from the chair as if to escape me, but I just work them deeper, twisting and curling them until I find that spot that has her white-knuckling the tablecloth as she tries to fight back her own desire.

I twist my hand so I can grind my palm into her clit, fucking her with my fingers. Her tight, wet channel grips me hard, and my cock jerks. I know she would fuck just like that too, and it’ll be fucking amazing.

I can’t wait until I’m buried inside this girl.

If she’s not careful, I’ll do it right here and now and scar all these rich, snobby bastards as I claim my pretty girl.

She fights it, though, even as she takes my fingers. I feel her holding back, trying to stop her release as I finger her.

The speech will only last so long, and I don’t want her getting caught, so I up my tempo, watching her shudder. Her eyes close for a moment before they snap open as if remembering where she is.

“Come on, pretty girl, let me feel you let go,” I tell her. “Or I could slip to my knees⁠—”

Her head swings around quickly as she eyes me.

“Then come for me, Beck,” I whisper seductively and lean in as if I’m whispering about the speech.

“They’ll see,” she replies, panicking.

Gripping her hair, I tug her closer so she can hide her head against my shoulder like she’s whispering something to me as I nod. “Now they won’t, pretty girl. Let go, come for me.”

Like she had been holding back, I feel her bite my shoulder with a low whine as her cunt clenches on my fingers. Her release racks her body as it gushes around me. I fuck her through it until she releases me and sits back.

Smirking, I pull my fingers from her pussy and pat her softly before righting her thong and dress.

I swipe my thumb under her lips as her eyes widen. “Your lipstick is smeared, pretty girl.” Swallowing, I watch her tongue dart out and taste her cream I left behind.

I turn away before I claim that bratty little mouth. Instead, I dip my fingers in my Champagne like I’m bored, mixing her cream in it. Turning back to her, I down it.

I moan as her sweet taste mixes with the bubbles of the drink. “Best Champagne I’ve ever had,” I tell her as she looks away.

“Thank you!” the speaker calls, and I stand, clapping with everyone else. I spare her a look to see her panting, still sitting heavily in her chair. “It’s rude not to applaud, pretty girl.”

Standing with a shaky breath, she claps at my side, and I lean in, unable to help myself. “Next time, I want to be on my knees, buried between your pretty thighs, tasting you. I want to hear you scream for me like you did for Trav last night.” I focus back on everyone else, smiling and clapping as she huffs at my side.

After-parties are usually boring. There are too many rules, and despite the “let loose” pictures they release, you still have to be careful since there are so many eyes and ears in here. It’s the unofficial after-parties you want, but we agreed to give Beck the full awards show routine, which means I’m standing here, bored, at the after-party.

Celebs dance and drink, take photos, and gossip like they aren’t all acting and doing it for the cameras. Beck stands at my side, nursing a glass, while Trav and Kolton are at the bar, getting us more drinks. “Well shit, I thought it would be more⁠—”

“Rock and roll?” a voice suggests, and Beck whirls around, her eyes widening. “Hi, I’m Fallon. You’re Beck, right? Beck Danvers?”

Beck just stares, her eyes wide. I spare Fallon a glance and nod. We’ve met a few times. She’s hot in that perfect model way, but she seems way too high maintenance for me, too perfect. I like a girl who can get down and dirty, like my Beck, but she is a nice person, and Beck clearly idolizes her. I nudge her with my elbow when she just stares. “Lost your tongue, pretty girl?”

She glares at me, and I can’t help but grin. “Shut up, Reed,” she snaps and smiles brightly at Fallon. “Hi, sorry, yes, I’m Beck, and you’re Fallon. Shit, you know that.” She shakes Fallon’s hand when she holds it out. “Sorry, I’m just a huge fan.”

“Really?” Fallon’s eyes widen before she smiles a genuine smile. “I wouldn’t have guessed. First time at the afters?” Beck nods as Fallon joins her, leaning into her like gossiping sisters. “How bored are you?”

“So bored,” Beck admits with a grin. “I thought it would be more fun, more scandalous.”

“Ah, they save that for when the cameras aren’t around at the after-after-party. Drugs and drink run rampant, and everyone fucks everyone.” Fallon winks. I fist my hand, fighting back memories of parties exactly like that. I was so coked up, I can’t even remember who or what I did.

Something soft brings me from my memories and the clawing voice inside me. I look down to see Beck’s hand gripping mine. She gives me a look, a silent one that asks if I’m okay, and I can do nothing but nod. I become lost in her gaze before she turns away. Even while meeting her idol, she checked on me, knowing how hard it is to fight back the need.

Jesus Christ, when did I start falling for Beck Danvers?

As I watch her chat and giggle, I can’t deny it. I am falling for her. When did anyone ever give a shit about me being okay? Never. No one checks in, but she does. She doesn’t want anything in return, no fame or money. She just did it to make sure I’m okay.

I was right all along—Beck Danvers is dangerous, but not to the band. To my heart.

“So what do you think of the lifestyle so far?” Fallon asks.

“It’s . . . different,” Beck replies, and they share a knowing look.

“Trust me, it doesn’t get easier, not as a woman. The bigger you get, the crazier the life is—more fans, more stalkers, more men trying to use you.” She sounds jaded, but I see the exhaustion in Fallon’s eyes, and for the first time, I really look at her. She’s considered the perfect celebrity, one that can do it all—model, act, and sing. She built her name despite her father and is always with a different man, but as Beck covers her arm, she obviously sees something no one else has.

“Do you have any friends?” Fallon blinks at her as Beck smiles. “It sounds like you need some, good ones at that. It might be hard, but you don’t have to do it alone. You obviously became a singer for a reason.”

“My father,” Fallon admits.

“To follow in his footsteps?” Beck asks, no doubt knowing who he was. Who doesn’t?

“No, to give him a big fuck you and prove I could be better than him.” That makes Beck bark out a laugh, and Fallon smiles with her. “Now I do it because I love it. I couldn’t do anything else. I don’t mean to complain, I love my fans and the lifestyle I’ve worked hard for, but sometimes I think it would be easier to be a man.”

“Tell me about it.” Beck nods. “You get the underwear question a lot too?”

“All the time. You get the dating or sex one yet?” Fallon asks.

“Eh, just last week.” They lean together, and I step back to give them their space.

We’re her band, and we protect her from creeps as much as we can, but Beck is right. There are some things only a woman can understand, and as Fallon and her talk, falling into an easy friendship, I begin to understand why Willa did what she did.

This lifestyle isn’t easy, but it’s even harder to be a woman in it. Did she feel that?

Is it why she did what she did?

My thoughts turn sour, and I blink when I see “dark and sexy,” as Beck called him, heading our way. Kage’s eyes are locked on Fallon, but she sees him too and sighs. “That’s my cue to leave,” she tells Beck. “Here, give me your phone.” Beck hands it over, and then Fallon types before passing it back. “You’re right, I could use some friends, so don’t be a stranger, Beck.”

Fallon turns, and with a perfect hair flip, she walks away, leaving Kage staring after her, determination and annoyance in his eyes.

“They are so going to fuck.”

Beck elbows me, making me laugh. “I hope she makes him work for it,” she adds.

“Oh, pretty girl, you definitely would want that.” I wink as Trav and Kolton head our way, passing us drinks. “After this, how about we head home? I’m tired of the pictures and offers.”

“Offers?” Kolton frowns.

“To either fuck or get high,” I reply, only realizing then that I’m still holding Beck’s hand. She tries to tug it away, but I hold it tighter. “Don’t worry, I didn’t say yes to anyone. They can’t take the hint.” I lift our joined hands, and Trav and Kolton just smile.

“I’m proud of you,” Trav tells me. “Sure, let’s finish these and head home.”

“Is that okay with you, pretty girl?” I ask.

“Sure,” she snaps. “Unless you want to stay and party longer. I’d hate to be a cockblocker.” She tries to tug away once more, so I wrap my arms around her and pull her against my chest, dropping my head to her.

“Jealousy suits you, pretty girl,” I murmur as she elbows me again. “But I don’t want any of them, I want you, so stop being a brat, finish your drink, and let’s head home. If it will make you feel better, though, I could fuck you here.”

She elbows me again but lets me hold her hand as she pulls away, downing her drink and dropping it to the nearest table. “Then let’s go.” She turns and walks away. Trav and Kolton have no choice but to leave their drinks, not wanting to be left behind.

After all, Beck Danvers is definitely our boss.

Fuck pussy-whipped. We are Beck-whipped.

You bet your ass I follow too.

Eagerly.

THIRTY-FOUR

Idon’t know why I’m so mad. Am I annoyed that they so brazenly asked with me right there and I didn’t even notice? Yes. But jealousy? He’s an idiot if he thinks I’m jealous.

Chase can fuck whomever he wants. I don’t care. I just think it’s slimy since he finger fucked me at the award show. I ignore his eyes the whole way home, remaining silent as I work through my emotions. I’m being unfair. He didn’t show anyone interest. Hell, he didn’t even look at anyone, which isn’t like Chase. Chase is a big flirt, and anyone on two legs gets hit with it, but tonight, he stood by my side and held my hand as I spoke to Fallon.

Am I being unreasonable?

Am I really just being jealous?

Fuck if I know or even want to know.

Instead, I pull out my phone and check my messages to see Fallon texted me. My mood brightens a bit. Despite all my plans for revenge, Fallon was always an idol to me, and tonight, she became real. I saw a side of her I never expected—the true side. She’s just a woman working hard to make it in this industry, dodging the minefields, and seeing her name on my screen gives me butterflies but also makes me a little sad.

Is she truly that alone?

Part of me aches at that, wanting to protect her, so I type out a quick reply.

Fallon: It was really nice to meet you tonight, Beck. Get home safely and don’t cause too much trouble.

Beck: No trouble to be found, I’m afraid, but it was really nice to meet you. I meant what I said, and I’m here if you need a friend who doesn’t want anything from you, not even to be known because of you. I know how lonely life can feel.

Fallon: Thank you, I’d like that. How about we meet up in a few days? I could use a girls’ day.

Beck: So gossip, alcohol, and food?

Fallon: Sounds perfect to me. Have a good night, Beck.

Beck: You too :)

I drop my phone, smiling as we pull up at the house. I get out first, ignoring my name being called as I hurry inside. I need to escape these sick feelings that are only making me angrier at myself. I leave my phone on my bed and change into an oversized shirt before I scrub my makeup off and tie my hair back. When I don’t hear them anymore, like the pussy I am, I head downstairs and grab a beer before heading out back to what is becoming my comfort place.

I curl up under the quiet night sky, nursing the beer and looking out at the city.

I don’t know how long I sit here before his voice comes. It’s not even a surprise. I knew he would find me. After what we did tonight, Chase Reed is on the hunt, and I’m in his crosshairs. The worst bit? I want it too. I want to find out if he really fucks as good as he touches. It will give me a better chance for revenge, which is the only reason I’m doing it.

A connection, no matter what, will help.

It’s definitely not because I want him . . .

“If you are trying to stop me from wanting you, then you’re doing it wrong,” Chase comments idly, heading my way. “You looked incredible all decked out tonight, pretty girl, but this is my favorite look of yours, Beck—messy hair, clean face, big shirt. It’s you, and it makes me hard as fuck.”

“My mission in life is to make you hard,” I sneer even as I sit a bit taller, to my own annoyance.

He sits beside me, his own beer in hand. His suit is gone, and his hair is messy, like he’s been running his hands through it. He’s in nothing but some low-slung shorts, showing off his incredible body. Ignoring my desire, I sip my beer and look away, not wanting to be swayed by muscles.

After all, I’m only so strong, and his are fucking amazing.

They were made to be stared at, touched, and licked.

No, shit, stop.

“Look, Beck, I wasn’t thinking when I said that shit earlier. I’ll admit I like your jealousy a little, but not now. I kind of hate it actually.” I swing my gaze to his, about to deny my jealousy, when he smiles. “I don’t want you to be. Not really.” He swallows. “You’re the only one who has ever seen me, the real me, and wanted me.”

I snort now. “Everyone wants you, Reed,” I snap.

“Sure, everyone wants me,” he mutters, but it sounds bitter, and I spare him a searching glance. He’s staring at the ground, his hands gripping his beer so hard I’m shocked it’s not broken. His back is hunched, and his lips are twisted.

His words are a statement, but he doesn’t seem happy about them, which is what leaves me confused and causes my anger and jealousy to flee.

“Everyone wants me, Beck.” I roll my eyes, thinking he’s bragging again, but when he carries on, my annoyance fades. “They want the visage, the rock god, the pretty boy . . . They don’t care about anything else. They don’t want the dark and ugly parts of me. They didn’t want the addiction and recovery. They wanted to fuck the perfect party boy. They didn’t care if it sent me spiraling again. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve tried to get clean, only for a partner to shove drugs at me to make me more interesting. Everyone wants me, but not the real me. Nobody ever gave a fuck about what’s under my skin. I’m just a story, a dirty tale they brag to their friends about or sell to the tabloids. I’m not even human to them. I’m like a fucking roller coaster or mountain they want to brag about conquering.”

I swallow hard, meeting his dark eyes, and guilt fills me. I once thought I’d fuck Chase just for the experience.

He’s right. People brag about it like a conquest, and as I stare into his eyes, I can see the number it has done on him. Chase might be a flirt, but like everyone in this world, he just wants to be wanted, needed, and maybe even loved. He looked for it in all the wrong places and got hurt time and time again.

“I learned to become what they wanted, and I never let anyone close enough to see that I was drowning. I fucked around and numbed myself with the drugs, but even pleasure and the high couldn’t stop it altogether. I was teetering on the edge, and the guys helped save me. I know what you think of me, that I’m some vain fuck boy, and you’d be right, but I want to be so much more. I always did. No one ever gave me the chance to be, so don’t touch me, Beck, unless you mean it. Don’t you kiss me unless it’s because you want me, all of me, not just the outside. I couldn’t handle it again. I want more than being desired. I want to be loved, Beck. That’s the sad fucking truth. I want to be loved so fucking badly, and I’m so tired of looking for it in random beds.”

He meets my eyes, and my heart breaks for him. Chase Reed is drowning, and he thinks the only way to get people to love him is to fuck them.

I want to be different for him. I don’t have the words, though, so I grip his cheeks and kiss him softly. It’s a promise, one I don’t even understand myself. He freezes at first before relaxing, his mouth parting so I can deepen the kiss. He tries to haul me onto his lap and turn it feral, but I slow him down and eventually pull back.

As I take in his lustful expression, something twinges in my heart, making it hurt.

“Take me to bed,” I whisper.

Swallowing hard, he takes my hand and leads me up to his room. All my plans to seduce him and get what I want are gone. I might be in it for revenge, but until I’m sure, I can’t hurt this man more than everyone else already has. I can’t lose myself that much.

When we get in there, he starts to reach for my clothes, but I shake my head, and he drops his hands, looking confused. Smiling softly, I climb into the bed and under the covers. “Come hold me?” I ask.

He watches me. “Beck?”

“Just hold me. Let’s kiss and cuddle and talk, okay? I want you, I’ll admit that, but I won’t be like them and fuck you just because. You’re right. I want more than your skin. I want to know everything underneath too. It isn’t like that between us, so just let me hold you tonight, okay?”

For a moment, I swear I see tears in his eyes before he clambers into the bed, flopping into my arms. I wrap my arms and legs around him, kissing his head as I hold him tight. His hands grip me tighter, as if he’ll never let me go.

“Pretty girl,” he murmurs.

“Reed.” I grin, kissing his head again and feeling him shudder.

Our desire is still there, but neither of us act on it. We don’t need to. He doesn’t need to fuck me for a connection, and I’m showing him that. “You are more than your body, Chase Reed,” I promise. “And when we fuck, and we will, I don’t plan to tell anybody.”

His head jerks up, and hurt flashes in his eyes, so I grip his cheeks. “Not because I’m ashamed but because they don’t need to know. They don’t matter. What we do is between us. I’ll fuck you because I want you, not because I want everyone to know. What we do in these sheets is nobody’s fucking business, Reed.”

“Why, Beck?” he murmurs.

“Because you deserve that. You deserve the respect they never showed you. Because I don’t give a fuck about who came before me, but with me, it’s different, okay? No matter what happens between us, this is ours and nobody else’s. You’re not a challenge to conquer and brag about. You’re a person, a flawed but good man. You deserve better.”

He stares at me for a moment before leaning in. “Can I kiss you?” he asks.

In answer, I press my lips to his. His hands come up and tangle in my hair as he deepens the kiss. It’s slow and loving and nothing like I expected from Chase, and when he pulls back, he smiles so innocently, my heart actually hurts for him.

“You know, you see me now, pretty girl, but I see you too. I know you’re struggling with something, fighting it every day and night. I see it in your eyes. I don’t know what hurt you’re tackling, but when and if you’re ever ready, I’ll listen and help in any way I can. You keep on saving us, Beck, keep on healing us, so let us do the same for you. If you’ll let us, we will never let you go, and you’ll never be alone again. This bond between us isn’t just built on you giving. Let us help you like you help us. You’re not alone anymore. One day, you’ll understand that, and we’ll be waiting. Like tonight, you saw me hurting, and no matter what you wanted, you put that first, selflessly and without thought, and you tried to help me, just like with Kolt and Trav. You are so busy protecting everyone else and looking after them, but I think you forget to look after yourself. No is a word you need to learn, pretty girl.” He kisses me again softly before snuggling in as I swallow hard.

How did he see all that?

He’s right. I’m so used to looking after everyone else, I’ve never even thought of myself. When my mom was sick, it was expected that I would be there, and I was. I never complained or wavered. I did the hard work, even when it meant giving up on my own dreams. When my sister left, I took over everything. With my friends, I rearranged plans or something simple to help them out. I can’t remember the last time I asked someone to help because when I do, I feel guilty, as if I’m putting them off or inconveniencing them by asking. It took me a long time to realize that not everyone puts the same effort into friendships or relationships or even family as I do. What I did for others without question is where some people draw the line. Some will always ask for more help than they are willing to give in return, and maybe Chase is right. Maybe I just need to learn to say no and put myself first.

Maybe I’m allowed to be selfish in my own life and put myself front and center without feeling guilty for wanting my own happiness and not accepting less.

I shouldn’t feel guilty about what I demand from life, what I want from it, or for following my dreams, but that’s a hard lesson to learn. I bend so often, maybe it’s time to break.

For one night, he puts aside his bad-boy image, and I put aside my revenge.

We are just two people who have been hurt and used, and we find solace in each other’s arms.

It just so happens to be the man I’m trying to destroy, my enemy, who sees me and understands me better than even my friends did.

THIRTY-FIVE

Iwake up before Chase. We are wrapped around each other, and surprisingly enough, it’s the best night’s sleep I’ve had, well, since I found out my sister died. I know Chase normally struggles to sleep as well, but I didn’t feel him wake last night. Wanting him to sleep while he can, I place a gentle kiss on his forehead and slide out of bed.

On my way to the door, something catches my attention, and I freeze. There’s a wall of Polaroids, and my sister is in one. She’s smiling brightly, looking healthy and happy. She was clearly just starting out, and even Chase is smiling. I glance back to look at him.

“I hope you had nothing to do with her death. I really do,” I say as I creep out the door, needing space to regroup.

I head to my room to shower, but I see my phone lighting up with a call, so I dash for it when I spy the unknown number.

“What do you have?” I whisper, eyeing the closed door.

“I did some digging. It seems Trav used to be called Travis Walker, and although the files were closed, I have a friend who poked at them. He was underage and very drunk. He was definitely the driver. They called it a terrible accident to cover it up, but he was drunk driving when they went over that cliff. He killed them and survived.”

Swallowing, I eye the door once more.

I’m confused, since it doesn’t line up with the Trav I know. People make mistakes, but he killed those people and is now living like this. How could he? Is he truly that cold?

“Thanks.” I hang up, ignoring my plans to shower as I stomp downstairs to find him. I need to know.

If Trav was capable of that, then he’s capable of killing my sister.

That means I slept with her murderer—a fact I knew might happen, but it makes me feel sick. I need to know. Fuck the long game, I can’t live another day without knowing. I find him doing yoga outside, so I grab a coffee and wait, and once he’s done, I head out and hand him a mug, knowing I need to find a delicate way of bringing this up so he doesn’t think I’ve been digging and snooping.

“Morning.” He smiles brightly at me as he sits cross-legged in the sunshine. Leaning in, he kisses me softly, and I smile before sipping my coffee. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah, pretty well actually,” I admit.

“I’m surprised since you spent the night with Chase.” I expect jealousy, but he just winks.

“Not like that,” I protest. “Anyway . . .” I move on swiftly, keeping my promise to Chase. I won’t even tell his bandmates. No matter what, I’ll keep that promise even if he doesn’t deserve it in the end. “I realized something last night.”

“What’s that?” he asks, his head cocked.

“That I don’t really know much about your past.” I smile shyly, ducking my head. “We’ve fucked and, yeah, I don’t really know you.” I play the part well, and he falls for it.

“Ah, um, not much more to tell,” he replies, rubbing his hair and mussing the sweaty strands.

Oh, not much more, just that you killed four people, I think idly.

That’s not what I say though. “Oh, come on, there must be.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “Want to hear one of my deepest secrets, and then you can tell me yours?”

“Uh, sure.” He frowns, clearly confused about where this is coming from, but he likes me too much to deny me. I’m a bastard, but it’s worth it.

“When I was sixteen . . .” I bite my lip, not sure I can tell him this, but it has to be dark enough for him to feel like he can spill, so I let the secret that I never told anyone else out. “I stole some of my mom’s medication since she was so sick. I was just so tired and stressed, I wanted to forget for a minute, you know? I took too many. I almost overdosed. I was rushed to the hospital. Luckily, my mom had woken up in pain and was searching for her meds when she realized what I’d done. She was so worried, and I felt like such shit after, I never touched anything again, even pain relievers. Every time I even think of that night, I feel nothing but guilt. I was high as a fucking kite, and she was screaming for me not to die. I don’t think I’ll ever live that down.”

“Beck,” he whispers.

“Sorry, I got dark there. I just . . . I like you, Trav, and I want us to get to know each other better. Maybe I went too far.” He covers my hand with his. “You don’t think less of me, right?”

“Never,” he replies, and I see the moment he decides to share and make me feel better. Trav would never let me hurt alone. “You’re not the only one who has done stupid things, Beck.”

“No? Please tell me I’m not. I’m feeling pretty shitty here.” Low blow, Beck.

He takes a deep breath. “I never told anyone this, not even the guys.” He swallows again, sitting back. “I don’t want you to look at me differently, but you’re not alone, Beck. When I was younger, a teenager, I was in a band. I told you about them. Well, we were good friends, and we were going places. I used to skip school to practice with them. People called us bad, but we were just misunderstood. We wanted to play music. One night, we booked a big gig that could change everything for us. We were so hyped and pumped after the gig that the drinks started flowing.”

He’s actually telling me. I can see guilt and pain in his eyes, and my own wars with my need to know.

“I knew it was wrong, and I said something, but no one listened. They were too hyped to care. We had no other way to get home. My friend had driven us there in his car, and we had the equipment, so we got in it. I was drunk, Beck, and I knew it was wrong, but despite protesting, I still went along with it. He drove us home. We were okay until about five minutes out of town.” He smiles bitterly. “It was the best night of our lives . . . until it wasn’t.”

Wait, his friend?

“I don’t know what happened. One moment, we were fine, and the next, we were careening off the edge of a cliff and into a reservoir. I could see it coming, we all could, and there was nothing we could do. We hit the water hard. To this day, I still remember the feeling of it. I don’t remember much after, just sinking and the lights flashing through the darkness until they cut out. Some of them struggled, trying to get free in the crash. I was still in the front, and luckily, I was wearing a seatbelt. I managed to get free and started kicking at my window as water filled the car. I still remember their screams. Two of my friends were too quiet: the driver, Pierce, who hadn’t worn his seatbelt, and Tim, who was in the back seat, also not wearing his seatbelt. I managed to break the window, and I tried to grab them. I grabbed Pierce and pushed him out, then I got Tim, and I tried to get Sol, but his seatbelt was on, and I couldn’t get it free. I was running out of air, so I swam us all to the top. My body felt wrong. I kept getting dizzy, but I got them to the surface, and I tried to go back down, but the car had sunk too deep. The last thing I remember before I passed out was their bodies floating next to me.”

I cover my mouth in horror as I see tears fall down his face.

“I found out later they all died on impact, but I know . . . I know Sol was alive. I couldn’t save him, Beck. I was in a coma for a while, apparently my injuries were extensive, and when I woke up, they were just gone. They were all dead over one mistake. The happiest night of our lives turned into the worst, and all anyone cared about was who was to blame for the alcohol—not the grief or the families, just the alcohol.”

“What happened?” I ask.

“I took the blame.” He lifts his head, tears bright on his cheeks. “Pierce was driving, but I took the blame.”

It wasn’t him?

“Pierce was drunk, we all were, and he never should have been driving, but I let him, Beck. I let him drive. It was as much my fault as it was his. He was dead, so he’d already paid the price. I’d lost everything I loved, and his family was grieving, so I didn’t want to hurt their memory of him after it all happened.”

“So you just let them believe the worst about you?” I whisper. I’m shocked, but I shouldn’t be. It’s something Trav would do. I think that’s why I’m struggling so hard. Trav isn’t a killer, no matter what happened.

“It was easier to let them blame me. I already felt guilty. I should have stopped Pierce from driving. They had just lost their son, and I couldn’t let them lose their last shred of him. I had no one who cared if it was my fault, but he did. I wouldn’t let them tarnish his memory like that, not even for the sake of my own,” he admits. “I left after the funerals. They couldn’t prove who was driving, so I was never charged, but everyone had made up their minds. They blamed me for their sons’ deaths, and I wasn’t welcome. I don’t even blame them. I don’t know why I survived and they didn’t. Some call it fate, but I say I was unlucky. I should have died that night, and I didn’t. Every day since, I have tried my hardest to live for them. That’s why I never gave up on this dream, because it was theirs. I’m doing this for all of us. We were just kids, Beck, and we did something stupid, but they didn’t deserve to die. They deserve to be singing and playing, to have families and a future. They are just gone, and I miss them. Every night, I hear their screams and feel the water hit us. Every night, I see their faces and hope what I’m doing is enough.”

“Trav.” I climb into his lap, wrapping him in my arms as he sobs. “Shit happens. I don’t know why you survived—no one does. It’s not unlucky. It’s just the way things are. You’re right. They made a mistake and they paid for it, but you don’t have to spend the rest of your life paying for it too. You’ve done enough. You were just a kid too.”

“I should have known better⁠—”

“But you can’t change it now. You’ve already protected their memories and made this name for them. You need to stop punishing yourself. You can’t change the past, and living a half-life because of it will only piss them off. If they loved you as much as I’m assuming they did, then they wouldn’t want you to hurt for the rest of your life, haunted by their ghosts.” I’m aware of the irony of what I’m saying, but it’s clear Trav is still drowning, and I’m a helping hand.

I hold him tighter.

“It’s time to let go, move on, and stop blaming yourself,” I whisper, wiping away his tears. “What happened is not your fault.”

“Beck.”

“Say it,” I demand, dragging his eyes to me.

“It’s not my fault,” he whispers.

I kiss his tears away. “Keep telling yourself that every day until you believe it, and when you’re on that stage, know they are with you. I’m with you. I’m sorry you had to go through that, Trav, and I’m glad you’re alive and that you made it here.”

“You are?” he asks, looking deep into my eyes.

“I am.” That’s the truth.

I’ll still destroy them if they hurt my sister, but I can’t hate Trav.

I just can’t.

Now that hurting Trav is out today, I focus on Chase instead, but when he comes down, all smiles, and pours me tea, lifting me onto his lap, I’m reluctant.

“What do you feel like doing today, beautiful?”

I’m used to Chase being mean, cocky, and even a bastard, but this puppy-dog Chase?

It’s throwing me off. They are all staring at me, so I clear my throat, hop off his lap, and down the scalding hot drink. “I need a shower. You guys decide.” I flee like a pussy, feeling their eyes on me the entire way.

Back in my room, I collapse on my bed just as my phone rings. I pick it up, knowing who it is. I keep my voice quiet, not wanting them to overhear. “We were wrong,” I mutter.

Ben sighs. “Shit, I thought we had something.”

“Me too,” I mumble, eyeing the door, not wanting to do this right now.

“I’ll keep digging. I’m meeting someone today who was on the team before they were fired. Apparently, they have some information. I will let you know. In the meantime, you need to dig, Beck. We need something before someone realizes what we’re doing.”

“I know,” I mutter, my eyes still on the door where I can hear their voices echoing down the hall. My heart skips a beat, but I ignore it.

“You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” Ben asks darkly.

“No. My sister was my entire world. No matter what, I will get the truth, even if I have to lose myself in the process.” I hang up.

Why is this so much harder than I thought it would be?

Every step I take toward the truth feels like a step I take further away from myself and from her.

I dyed my hair.

I tattooed my entire body.

I changed my name.

I lost every aspect of myself, but I never expected to lose my heart.

So why am I?

THIRTY-SIX

Something is wrong with Beck. I saw panic in her eyes.

I don’t know what caused her to feel that, but I want to make it better. I’m finding I will do anything to keep her smiling and happy. After discussing it with the others, I head upstairs and knock on her door. It takes her a moment to answer, and when she does, I forget what I came to ask.

Her hair is wet, and she’s in nothing but a towel. She looks younger without makeup, even as her lips turn down. “Is everything okay?” she asks.

Blushing, I clear my throat. “Yes, sorry, I was hoping we could go somewhere. With the tour starting in two weeks, we haven’t gotten much downtime. We need to practice for sure, but having fun is important.” I realize I’m rambling, and her smile is growing. “What I’m trying to say is, let’s go on a date.”

“Sure.” She laughs. “Let me put on some pants.”

“Don’t feel the need to on my behalf,” I retort, and she bursts into laughter.

“Don’t let Chase rub off on you.” She winks. “Give me five.” She shuts the door, and I stand there like a fool, wondering if it would be creepy for me to wait here for five minutes just to see her again.

I realize it would, so I hurry away. In my room, I change out of my pajamas and into some jeans and a band shirt, adding a black denim jacket and my boots. I style my hair before looking myself over in the mirror.

As I stare at myself, I realize something.

I stopped hating the way I look all because she likes it.

Shit, I’m in trouble.

Shutting the door, I rush downstairs and eagerly wait near the front door. I’m sure the label will be annoyed when they find out we skipped out on practice so close to leaving, but I don’t care. Beck needs to smile, she needs a day off, and I want to give her everything she needs.

She comes down a few minutes later, wearing wide-legged blue jeans and a skimpy, cut up band top. A leather jacket hangs from her hand, and her fingers are covered in rings. Her hair is still slightly wet, but her makeup is done. She looks beautiful.

She looks like she belongs to me.

My eyes rove possessively over her body, drinking her in from the dark ink of the tattoo on her inner arm to the top of her head and back down. Beck Danvers is perfection and everything I didn’t know I needed. I don’t know when I came to depend on her smile to judge my day, but when it graces her face, I relax, knowing today will be good.

“Ready?” she asks as she reaches my side, completely oblivious to my whole world shifting and rearranging until she’s the center. “Kolt?”

“Ready.” I take her hand, liking the weight of it, and we head out.

“So where are we going?” she asks as I open the car door for her. I’m driving us today. It’s just a normal date—well, as normal as it can get. Shutting her door, I hurry around and slide in, reaching over to fasten her belt for her. She smiles at me as I sit back.

“You’ll see.” I wink as I start the engine.

Laying my arm behind her leather seat, I look behind us as I reverse and then spin us, soaking in her giggle as I gun it. I turn up the volume on the radio, rolling the windows down, and as we head away from the city, I watch her relax until she sings along.

For a moment, I take a mental picture of my girl, of the happiest moment of my life. She’s sitting at my side where she belongs, where she always belonged. She makes all the shit I’ve waded through, all the crap this world has thrown at me worthwhile.

Beck Danvers makes it all worth it, and when she opens her eyes, I can’t help but grin and join in as she sings.

We have fun and let go, and for the first time in a very long time, I take a deep breath.

I stop planning and running from thing to thing. I stop waiting and wishing away my days, working and never really living. No, I take a deep breath, and I put myself in the moment and focus on the way it feels.

I just . . . live, maybe for the first time ever.

“I can’t eat another bite,” she complains, leaning back in her chair.

I wanted to show off a little—okay, a lot if I’m being honest. I took her to the beach, where we swam and played for hours before eating ice cream and then playing in the arcade. Luckily, it was empty so no one noticed us, and then I dragged her here to this fancy fucking country club. I don’t know why I have to have a membership to it, but now I’m happy I do.

She looked around in amazement, unsure at first, but the food won her over.

It’s the way to Beck’s heart, after all—food and orgasms.

She’s a woman of simple pleasures, and I fucking love it, especially watching her moan around every bite. “Go on, have another,” I encourage, holding the fork out to her.

Sighing, she meets my gaze. “Why do I feel like you have other motives?”

I lick a drop of sauce from her lips, hearing her gasp. “Every time you take a bite, you let out this little noise that makes my cock harder than it’s ever been,” I tell her. “And after you finish, I plan to take you into those fancy fucking toilet stalls and destroy that pussy for dessert until you make those noises again for all these pompous asses to hear.”

Her mouth drops open, and her eyes widen. “Kolton,” she hisses.

Laughing, I sit back. “Finish up, beautiful.”

She just stares at me. “We can’t, not here. We’ll break something. It’s all fucking expensive!”

“Then I’ll buy what we break.” I shrug.

“Kolton, but we’ll⁠—”

“Then I’ll buy the whole fucking country club,” I retort. “Stop arguing and finish up. I’m starving for my dessert.”

She just keeps gaping at me before finally shaking her head. “Nuts, you are all nuts.”

“Maybe, but you love it.” I wink. “Let me go pay the bill because we both know that after I’ve been deep inside that cunt, I won’t even know my own name, never mind our table number.” Sliding out, I head inside, grinning widely.

I’ve never been fucking happier.

THIRTY-SEVEN

Idon’t know what has gotten into Kolton, but I love it. The confident, strong way he said he was going to fuck me for everyone to hear was hot as hell. I don’t know where the timid man went, but I like this side just as much.

Not to mention I had no thoughts about anything else but him all day.

From swimming, playing, eating, and flirting, it felt like I was on a date with a man I was starting to care for—okay, fuck, already care for. It’s dangerous, but I can’t seem to stop myself when they are involved.

I’m so lost in my own thoughts, I don’t even hear or see someone next to us until they lower gracefully into the chair opposite me. Blinking, I stare at the woman now sitting across from me in confusion.

I don’t know her, and she certainly doesn’t hang in my circle.

She wears a brown mini dress, black heels encrusted with diamonds, with more hanging from her neck and fingers, and designer shades. Her perfectly straight hair, which hangs over one shoulder, and the minimal dewy makeup on her face indicate she could be any rich housewife here.

“Yes?” I prompt with an arched brow, annoyed she interrupted my thoughts of Kolt.

“You’re Beck, right?” she asks, pulling down her shades to eye me and clearly finding me lacking.

“And you are?” I reply, glaring at her.

Smirking, she slides her sunglasses higher as she watches me. “I’m Kolton’s sister.”

My entire body goes cold.

Horror claws at my insides as I stare at the monster who ruined Kolton’s childhood and stole his innocence. “I see you’ve heard of me.” She actually fucking grins.

Just then, I hear his footsteps, and he’s talking as he stops at the table, putting his wallet away. “Okay, beautiful, all paid. How about—” He stops, and that’s when I know he’s seen her. I glance at him to see his face pale, like he’s seen a ghost.

All happiness and color drain completely from his face as he stares at her, and his body begins to shake.

“Hi, baby brother.” She grins. “Long time.”

Standing, I glare at the woman, taking Kolton’s hand and walking away. He hurries after me, but so does she, and she stops before we reach the door. Kolton is stiff at my side, his eyes far away like he’s locked in his memories.

“I wasn’t finished with you two. I didn’t buy my way in here for nothing.” She huffs and crosses her arms. “Kolton, you never come home anymore. Everyone is worried.”

The low cry that escapes his throat at her voice breaks something inside me, and I step in front of him, glaring at her. If I could kill someone with a look, she would be dead. I have never been so angry before. Every muscle in my body vibrates with the need to smack the shit out of this evil bitch. “You have two seconds to go away before I shove those diamonds where the sun doesn’t shine.”

She rolls her eyes. “I see you’re associating with trash now. Are you really that desperate, baby brother, or do you just like the attention?” He shudders as she speaks, losing himself with every word. “This little rebellion ends now. Mom and Dad say it’s time to come home.” She looks at me then. “And leave your trashy girlfriend and friends behind.”

“Last warning,” I tell her, stepping closer, hating the agony I can feel wafting from him.

All his nightmares are coming back, and the pain and sorrow I heard in his voice when he told me what happened has been exposed, ripped from him, and tossed on this freshly lacquered marble floor because of this cunt.

She eyes us and decides to switch her tactics since it’s not working.

“He always was pretty,” Kolton’s sister comments, making me feel sick as she smirks, knowing exactly what she’s doing. “He only got more handsome. He’s great in bed too, right? He’s the biggest I’ve ever had.”

Kolton gags, and I step closer still, protecting him.

I’m collecting secrets, secrets that could destroy them, yet I’m almost reluctant to use them against them. I need to be sure first. It’s so confusing. I’m angry, I hate them, and I want revenge, but at the same time, I’m worried that if I spill all these secrets and I’m wrong, I will never recover, but right now, I don’t care.

I glance back at him, and what I see makes my decision for me. Facing forward, I see her mouth open again, but I don’t let her speak. I slam my fist right into her monstrous face.

I hear someone scream and then rushing footsteps as people surround us, trying to hold me back, but I shrug them off, fighting to get back to her as Kolton’s sister cries, clutching her nose. Blood drips down her perfect dress, and I like it.

A sick sense of bloodlust fills me as I kick the person holding me and throw myself at her. I knock her to the floor as she screams. Grabbing her head, I slam it into the marble with a satisfying crack as she writhes below me.

“How do you like fighting someone your own size?” I hiss in her face. “He might not be willing to kill you for what you did, but I certainly am, you pervert.”

She slaps me, and my head spins. Tasting my own blood, I grin down at her. “That was the only shot you get.” I slam my fist into her face again, feeling two of my knuckles and her nose split as she shouts. “You like to hurt people so much? You like to touch without permission?” I slam my fist into her again. “This is what you get. You dare walk back into his life after what you did to him?”

I slam her head back into the marble as she cries and kicks.

“I’m calling the police!” a man in a suit shouts. He has been trying to claw me off her while security surrounds us, unsure what to do. Phones are out and pointed our way, but I don’t care. I glance at Kolton and see he’s frozen, locked in his past and so alone and terrified after what she did to him.

I need to make sure she can never hurt him again.

Gripping her fake hair, I yank her head up as I grin at him. “You do that. In the meantime, I’m going to get as many shots in as I can.” I spit on her face, uncaring about the eyes and cameras on us. “I’m going to ruin your face so you look exactly how you are on the inside.”

I do just that. I ram my fist into her face so many times, I lose count. Blood coats me and the perfect marble floor. I barely recognize myself or what I’m doing until arms yank me off her, and even then, I’m screaming and fighting to get back to her until a stern voice barks in my ear.

“Enough, you’re under arrest.”

It doesn’t take long for the cops to arrive. I guess when rich people call, they come running.

The sirens pierce my ears, and I slump into their grip. “You’re done,” another one comments as I see paramedics running to her unmoving body. Her face is a bloody pulp, and it’s only then my knuckles start to hurt.

“Jesus, you’re Beck Danvers,” the one holding me mutters. “You really fucked up, just when you guys were making a comeback.”

“Yeah, well, she deserved it,” I mutter as I let them drag me away. I see her twitch, so I know she’s not dead.

I don’t know if I’m relieved about that or not.

Actually, I do. I’m disappointed. I’d rather go to jail knowing she’s dead.

My eyes go to Kolton. He’s holding himself, glancing between me and her. He’s alone in the midst of the chaos.

He looks so lost, so young.

I focus on a lost Kolton and try to relax. “Sir, could you please allow me to call my friends for him?” I nod my head at Kolton, playing on the police officer’s fan-like behavior. “He’s been through a lot, and he needs them here. I’m not saying don’t arrest me, but please let me get his brothers here so I know he’s safe.”

“One call,” he mutters, so I grab my phone and dial quickly. “It’s okay, Kolt. I’m here. It’s okay,” I tell him as I try to hide my busted knuckles so I don’t worry him.

“Hey, baby, how’s the date?” Chase starts.

“Kolton needs you.” I quickly reel off the address. “Get here as soon as you can, okay?”

“Are you okay?” he asks, sounding worried now.

“I’m fine. Please come take care of Kolt for me. He needs us, but I have to go. Just come take care of him for me so I know he’s okay.” I hang up and hand them my phone, holding out my hands, which look like raw meat, so they can cuff me.

Blood is splattered up my hands and knuckles, but I boldly lift my gaze to the cops. “Will she live?”

“It’s too soon to tell,” one murmurs as he stares at me, sighing. “Why’d you do it?”

“Because she’s a sick fucking pervert who got what she deserved. I’d do it again. You let me go now and I’ll finish the job.”

“You shouldn’t say that to a cop,” he mutters.

“Just did.” I grin. “I don’t suppose you have any wet wipes on you.”

They ignore me as they cuff me, and I’m led to a step and pushed down. A cop remains at my side as they clear the area and begin to take statements and confiscate phones. I watch her be wheeled out and grin in victory, but I only relax when Chase and Trav jog into the reception area. They push past cops and cameras and run straight to Kolton, who still stands alone in the midst of the chaos. They hold him tightly, their gazes finding mine and widening as I’m lifted to my feet.

When we pass them, I nod. “Get him home and don’t leave him, okay?”

“Beck, Jesus.” Trav stares at me.

“Don’t worry about me.” I grin, and then I let the cops lead me to the car outside.

I hold my head high, even as flashes from cameras blind me.

I guess I fucked up my plan for revenge, but as we drive to the station, I can’t seem to care.

My knuckles hurt like a son of a bitch.

They ache more the longer it takes for them to process me, and when I’m finally led to a desk, I can’t believe my eyes. They read the charges and my information, but the cop, now blushing, slides a poster across.

It’s one of the guys and me. “Can you sign it?” he murmurs.

Chuckling, I grab the pen, and with my wrists still cuffed, I scribble on the poster. Winking, I slide it back over. “Better keep that. It might be the only one after this.”

They lead me away, and I’m put in a cell, but they are nice about it. They keep apologizing and asking why I did it, but I keep it to myself. Kolton’s past is his own. I’ll take the consequences. I made the choice, and I don’t regret it.

She deserved that and so much more. She’s just lucky we were in public or she would have left in a body bag instead of an ambulance.

I know the guys will be worried. I messed up their plans as well, but I only care if Kolton is okay.

Fuck, I hope he’s okay.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Iignore my phone as it rings again and focus on Kolton. He hasn’t spoken, and he’s huddled on the sofa with a vodka in his hands thanks to Chase. “Buddy, we need to know what happened,” Chase pleads. “Are you okay? We need to help Beck. Please.”

Her name seems to snap him out of it, and he blinks. “Beck.”

“Yeah, Beck.” Chase nods, scooting closer, but his voice is soft. We both know something is wrong with him. He looks so fragile and lost.

Whatever happened, it was really fucking bad, and Beck looked angrier than I’d ever seen her.

I would describe her as feral, standing in handcuffs and coated in blood.

Worry is all I know for him and for her. I have no idea what happened, only what we heard, and it can’t be right. Beck would not just attack a woman for no reason, nor would Kolt be catatonic because of that and let his girl be led away.

Something happened.

She told us to look after him.

“Kolton,” I murmur softly. “Beck is in trouble, please.”

She could face time inside, and she will lose everything . . . and so will we.

We will lose her.

No, we can fix this, we have to, but we have to know what transpired to make that happen.

“She was protecting me,” he whispers, downing the vodka and wincing as it hits, but it seems to shake him from his stupor. “My sister . . . My sister found us and wouldn’t let us go. Beck realized who she was. She said some fucked-up stuff. Beck was protecting me.” He lifts his eyes to mine. “And I just stood there. I did nothing to help her.”

Oh fuck, now it makes sense, and pride for my girl fills me.

I would have done the same thing.

I’ve never hated a person the way I hate Kolton’s sister, he never told us what happened but enough to deeply despise her, so I understand why Beck did what she did.

“It’s okay. We can help her now, okay?” Chase tells him, and he takes his phone and leaves the room. We all have missed calls from friends, news outlets, and management. By now, the photos and videos have done the rounds. She’s ruined, but I don’t care.

I don’t care about the band or our reputation. All I care about is Beck.

We put a plan in place. Management is behind it because they want damage control. They originally wanted to cut ties, but we wouldn’t let them. We warned them that if they tried, then we’d walk too. We were lucky because they seem to like us and didn’t wipe their hands clean of us, but the hype for the upcoming tour is too much.

If they can rectify it, then they will.

There is nothing money can’t fix, and we throw it at the problem, calling in every connection and favor we have.

I’m aware each passing minute is another she is behind bars, but we have to do this right. We have to clear her name and get her free, but more than that, we need to change public opinion. We need them on our side. We need them rallying for her and her actions.

It was Kolton’s idea, but as I watch him take the stage before the gathered press, I worry it’s too soon and too much. He is determined, though, so we sit at his side, unwilling to leave him alone, and take his hands as he prepares to go to war and rip himself open for his girl.

For our Beck.

“I won’t be taking any questions, so please listen,” he begins. “This is not something I have ever discussed. I have a lot of demons, and they all stem from my childhood. I have not dealt with that trauma, and I am aware of that, but today, I will show you my demons so you will understand the truth of what happened yesterday in regard to Beck Danvers.”

We blink under the onslaught of pictures, and his hands tighten on ours.

He’s pale and shaky, but he sits tall, and I’m so fucking proud of him.

“The woman Beck attacked yesterday is my sister.” He briefly lets that sink in. “And she only did it after being provoked and we were stalked. She did it to protect me. I’ve been asked about my family many times, but I changed my last name, and I never discussed what happened, mostly out of shame—shame that has followed me since I was a kid. Beck has been holding my hand and helping me shed the shame, as well as helping me realize that what happened to me was not my fault. It isn’t shameful. It’s horrible, it is tragic, and in no way was it my fault. I will be honest. This isn’t easy to discuss. I have only ever told one person, and I probably wouldn’t have told anyone else—not out of shame, but out of privacy—but I don’t like the narrative that’s being spread about Beck, so to clear the air, I will tell the truth.” He takes a deep breath, and for a moment, I worry he can’t do this.

I won’t hold it against him, there are other ways, but he surges forward, refusing to let her face the consequences of protecting him.

“When I was very young, my sister started to sexually abuse me. It didn’t end as I grew up. Instead, her friends joined in. I was abused for nearly all of my childhood by not only my sister, but her friends as well. It left me with physical and emotional scars, and when I was old enough, I ran away. My parents never did anything to stop it, nor did they care.” He swallows hard, clutching our hands. “Beck knew this. I cried to her about my nightmares one night, about my inability to be with another being. I’m sure there are rumors that I am a cold bastard, but the opposite is true. I can’t stand to have a female touch me after what they did to my body. Beck knew this, and since she entered my life, I have been exploring this, and I have been healing. I’ve had no contact with my family at all—not until my sister followed me and Beck to dinner. When I saw her and she introduced herself, Beck tried to remove me from the situation because I was in shock and struggling. She tried to leave, but my sister wouldn’t let her. Worse yet, my sister very loudly discussed . . . raping me, and Beck snapped. I’m not saying what Beck did was right, violence is never the answer, but Beck was protecting me, her friend, her bandmate . . . her boyfriend.” The news goes crazy. “My sister is a perverted, sick individual who finally got what her actions deserve. Beck is not one to back down, and neither is my sister. Beck did what she thought was right to keep me safe and protected. I will stand with her until the end, as will Chase and Trav, but don’t just take my word for it.”

We turn as the videos play from all angles. Bystanders had been recording before the incident, and it shows Beck and Kolton trying to leave, only for his sister to stop them. Her words are audible, and the crowd gasps. We cut it after that, and I lean into the mic.

“Kolton is very hurt by what happened, and the one person he needs most is behind bars for protecting him while his sister, a sexual predator, is being made into a victim. As a band, we stand with Beck. I’m sure if you were in her shoes and it were your friend, your brother, or your boyfriend . . . you would have done the same.

“We will be fighting these charges in full, and we hope our fans understand and give both Beck and Kolton the time and privacy they need to heal from this. Kolton will not speak on this again. It’s his right to heal as he sees fit. Thank you, and please stand with us in pointing out the true instigator in this case—the one in the hospital, surrounded by cameras, who is already live-streaming what happened and talking about money—not the one behind bars, who’s staying silent, even in her own defense, to protect the ones she cares for.”

“Thank you.” Kolton stands, as do we, his hands in ours as the cameras go wild.

Our first part of the plan is done, and as we walk off stage, we know we got the reaction we wanted.

Beck is a hero.

THIRTY-NINE

It should alarm me that I’m more worried about Kolton than I am about myself. I’m facing assault charges, not to mention being locked up. My true name could be revealed, though the officers swear my privacy will be protected, but if the guys find out, then they will know exactly who I am. Everything I have worked for, my revenge, the truth, and this life will all be for nothing.

Yet I’m worried about Kolton.

I refuse to consider why, so instead, I pace, and when that gets boring, I force myself to relax on the bench, waiting to hear what will happen to me. Hopefully, I’ll get a phone call and I can check in with the guys to make sure they got Kolton home safely. This will undoubtedly bring up a lot of memories and trauma for him, so he’ll need them now more than ever to process it, but Kolton is stronger than anyone I know. He will survive this.

It’s what consumes my thoughts—the image of his stricken, dead expression as he gazed at his abuser. He wasn’t the man I . . . Well, he wasn’t Kolt. He was a little boy facing his nightmares and realizing the monster in the dark was real. In that moment, I would have done anything to bring life back to his expression and make him feel safe and protected.

Kolton might be a rock star, one of the most renowned music gods in our history, but he’s still a man, and Kolt feels more than most, especially now.

As for his sister? Well, I hope she chokes on her own blood and dies.

It would up my charges to murder, but I think I could rock the orange jumpsuit.

I hope she’s humiliated. I hope that custom Chanel is ruined and she can never look in the mirror again without being horrified like he was. I hope I scarred her even a little bit because she scarred him.

I’m a cold-blooded, vindictive bitch. If they hadn’t been there to stop me, I would have killed her, even with all those people watching. I’ve never been the type to kill before. I have a quiet anger, and it takes a lot to get me to snap, but when I do, you better be out of my fucking way. Still, I’ve never come as close to losing it as I did today.

All for Kolton.

“Danvers.” I jerk upright, almost falling from the bench I was sprawled on.

“Yeah?” I cough, clearing my throat, and my vague, curious thoughts ponder how one man pushed me so far into the deep end when he’s supposed to be my enemy.

“Come on, you’re out.” The cell unlocks, and I frown curiously as I get to my feet and head his way.

“What do you mean?” I ask, crossing my arms. Is this a trap?

“You’ve got one hell of a lawyer, not to mention the news and fans are demanding your release.”

Blinking in confusion, I step up to his side. “Wait, why?”

“You’ll see.” He grins.

I didn’t even call a lawyer. Did the guys do this? Even after the scandal I just caused? Let’s face it, I broke all the rules and could have ruined them once more, but no one else would have called one for me, right?

“Personally, I wanted to let you get a few more kicks in,” he mutters softly, making me burst into laughter as he leads me to the front.

I stop when I see the news headline boldly splashed across the screen in the reception area. The cop lets me go as he grabs the paperwork, and I move closer. My heart hammers as I stare at a worried, scared-looking Kolton, a stern Travis, and an enraged Chase. Cameras flash, and it’s clear it’s from an interview.

Kolton Haynes Admits He Was Abused by His Sister. Bandmate Beck is Being Held for Assault.

Uncaring who is watching, I crank up the volume and listen. My hand covers my mouth and tears form in my eyes as Kolton explains what happened and rips open his past.

Why would he do that?

The answer is whispered in my head.

He did it for me.

“Beck!”

I turn, and tears trickle down my face as I stare at a grinning Chase, a worried Trav, and a fearful-looking Kolton. “Shit, we wanted to be here when you got out. We even got you a balloon.” He pulls it from behind his back, and I laugh.

It reads, “Congratulations.”

“There’s a cake in the car too.” Chase grins as he rushes my way. “I chose the wording. It says, ‘Congratulations on being a badass.’”

Giggling, I sink into his embrace. “Of course you did.”

I’m swept into a hug from Trav as well, who scans me before nodding.

Both of them pick up a hand, inspecting my crusted, scabby knuckles. “They’ll be fine,” I murmur.

“It must hurt like a son of a bitch. We’ll get them taken care of when we get home.” Trav nods. “Sorry it took us so long. We had to figure out a plan to get you out.”

I jerk my eyes to the TV, which is rerunning the press conference. “Was this your idea?”

“No.” Kolton’s voice is small, and I move past Trav and Chase. “It was mine. It was time for the truth to come out. I’m not ashamed, but I would be if I let you suffer for protecting me.”

“Kolt,” I whisper. “You shouldn’t have. You didn’t need to protect me⁠—”

“Of course I did.” He frowns, moving closer but still not touching me, as if he’s unsure if he’s allowed to. “You beat the shit out of my sister for me, Beck. You protected me, even when you were being arrested. If you think I wouldn’t rip out my heart just to keep you safe, then you don’t know me well enough. I’d do anything, Beck,” he admits softly, “to make sure you’re okay.”

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I grip his face and search his eyes. “But are you okay?”

“No,” he answers with a bitter smile. “But I will be.”

“Then take me home,” I murmur, knowing he needs space to heal and process, and I need a shower.

He nods, pressing his forehead to mine for a moment before a nervous cough breaks us apart. I see the police officer wincing. “Sorry, just some paperwork to fill out.”

Smiling, I try to release Kolton’s hand, but he holds mine tightly in his, so I drag him with me, not having the heart to tell him it hurts like a son of a bitch. As I’m filling the paperwork out, I glance at the guys. “So I’m really free? What happens now?”

“Eh, we need to see if she’ll drop the charges. I don’t see how she won’t, even with the evidence. Otherwise, she’s going to jail for a very long time for what she did to Kolton. In all honesty, I think she will disappear. They are old money, after all, so the scandal will ruin his mom and dad if she doesn’t.”

Kolton nods. “And if she doesn’t, I have evidence, and I will testify and get her sent to jail for what she did to me—her and her friends.”

“I’m proud of you,” I tell him, “and I’m sorry you had to speak about what happened because of my reaction⁠—”

“Don’t ever apologize for protecting me,” he whispers. “No one else ever has before you, Beck.”

Swallowing hard, I turn away before I cry again and thank the officer as I take my phone and items. Squeezing Kolton’s hand, uncaring of the pain, I smile softly. “Let’s go home.”

Chase wasn’t kidding about the cake. It sits proudly on the coffee table, and I can’t help but laugh every time I look at it. I’ve been watching the news for a few hours. My mug shot was somehow circulated, but luckily my name wasn’t on it. I’ll admit I look hot in it, and everyone else seems to think so as well.

Public opinion is on our side. Everyone is horrified for Kolton and crying out for his sister’s incarceration. They want her to be held responsible for what she did. Family, friends, and even those who knew him when he was younger are stepping forward for their five minutes of fame, but it works in our favor as they speak about what an angel Kolton was, so quiet and calm, while his sister was always a nightmare. One even mentions seeing her touching him inappropriately. I hate that it takes Kolton exposing himself as a victim for others to come forward, but I can’t deny that it helps. It makes his story human and valid, and fans are outraged on his behalf, while the others are shouting my praises for beating the shit out of her.

Turning it off, I stand and stretch. The guys cleaned and bandaged my knuckles, but they twinge as I move, the wounds reopening, but it was worth it.

While I showered, the guys disappeared. I ignore the twinge of loneliness I feel and instead head upstairs, only to stop in my doorway. Three grinning faces wait for me. “I thought you’d never come,” Chase says.

I blink, taking in the scene before me.

All three are wearing matching black-and-green checkered pajama bottoms without shirts, and there is a pair of shorts and a cami folded neatly at the end of the quilt for me. That is where the similarities in my room end. My bed has been turned on its side to make a headboard, while the mattress and someone else’s are pushed together on the floor, creating a giant bed with piles of duvets, pillows, and blankets. The curtains have been shut, and string lights have been strung around the room, casting the space in a warm, white light. A projector has been set up, aimed at the wall near me, and snacks and drinks are placed on my dressing table.

For a moment, I panic about my sister’s tapes before I remember I hid them in the wardrobe last night, since they seem to randomly join me in bed for cuddles now. Relaxing once more, I eye the room with a grin. “What’s this?”

“Girls’ night—um, guys’ night?” Trav scrubs his head. “Ringers’ night.” He nods, settling on that. “With everything that’s going on, we figured we all need an escape from reality, so we are going to watch shitty movies, eat shitty food, drink, and sleep.”

I can’t help the slow grin that spreads across my face. “That sounds . . .” I make them wait, watching how nervous they are. “Perfect.”

I take off my clothes, ignoring their groans as I grab the pajamas and pull them on. Giggling, I throw myself between them with my legs stretched out.

They quickly tumble down onto the bed around me. I lean back against Chase with his legs on either side of my body. Trav is to my left, one hand lazily stroking my exposed thigh, and Kolton is to my right, his head on my hip and his leg slung over mine.

“So what’s the first movie?” I ask, getting settled.

“Chase picked first, and it’s Legally Blonde.”

We all turn to look at him, and he nods. “Don’t look at me like that. Legally Blonde is an empowering piece of feminist cinema. Besides, Elle Woods is badass as fuck.”

Shaking my head, I settle back down, looking at the loading screen. “Doesn’t someone need to hit start?” I grin.

“Aww shit,” they say together, making me laugh harder than I have in a while.

They are all idiots.

So why can’t I stop smiling?

FORTY

Get yourself a girl willing to go to prison for you.

As I glance down at mine, who’s snoring softly in my arms, I can’t help but smile. Trav and Kolton are also snoring, locked around her like she’s a teddy bear, but I couldn’t bear to go to sleep. This isn’t due to my usual demons clinging to me in the darkness. This is my unwillingness to look away from Beck Danvers.

She astounds me.

She’s beautiful, but it’s more than that. It’s the depth of this woman’s loyalty, her humor, and her sarcasm. It’s the way she goes toe to toe with me, the way she can beat the shit out of anyone she wants and doesn’t need our protection but then melts softly into my arms, trusting me to keep her safe as she sleeps.

She’s a walking contradiction, and I can’t get enough of it.

I kiss her forehead, my heart doing this weird clench when she lets out a soft, sleepy sound and snuggles deeper into my chest.

I’m so fucked. I’ve never felt like this before.

I’m not a good man. I’ve fucked up relationships and used sex as therapy, and I’ve even let women down and used them, so I don’t know what I did to deserve Beck Danvers, but I don’t care.

I’m keeping her.

Wherever Beck Danvers goes, so will I.

I didn’t even care about the band today, something I’ve built my entire legacy on. All I cared about was saving her, and that told me everything I needed to know. For me, the industry’s selfish asshole, to care more about saving Beck than myself?

Yeah, I have to love her. It’s not something I’ve felt before, not something I could even explain, but it’s there in the little actions that I didn’t even realize I was doing. I seek her gaze in every single room we are in. I make excuses to touch her, hold her hand, and show her off. I want her to succeed, and I’m so proud of everything she does. When she can’t sleep, I worry why, and when she’s tired, I want to help.

I hated Beck Danvers when we first met, but now I can’t imagine my life without my little tornado.

A whimper fills the air over the sound of Emma Stone singing on Easy A, a movie Beck chose before she promptly fell asleep. My eyes rove over Beck, wondering if it’s her, but when it comes again, my gaze drops to Kolton. He’s moving around, his features pinched with pain.

I did some research today on trauma and how to help. I know he’s probably remembering a lot since this has brought it all back to the surface. The internet said just to be there for him and let him speak if he wants to. If he is having bad dreams, then I am supposed to wake him with something good, so I do the only thing I can think of. I grab him and turn him over, and when his eyes open, they land on Beck—his good thing.

I have no idea if I’m doing this right. I don’t have trauma the way he does, but I know when I’m struggling with my demons, I want a reason to keep fighting, to keep going, and I hope Beck can be that for me. I hope I can help without messing it up like I normally do.

“Shh, you’re okay, brother. It’s just a bad dream,” I murmur, laying my hand on his shoulder. “Go back to sleep, I’ll watch over you.”

“Thank you, Chase,” he whispers, pressing his head against Beck and inhaling her scent.

I keep my hand on him, watching over them as they sleep.

I must have fallen asleep at some point. I don’t wake from my own bad dreams, which is odd, but when I wake up, I’m warm, and something delicious is pressed against my nose.

Cracking an eye open, I get an eyeful of bright blonde hair and realize it’s Beck. All her soft curves make my morning wood even more painful. Shifting my hips, I try to escape the press of her body, not wanting to disturb her, but she digs her nails into my shoulders and presses her pussy against my thigh.

I have no choice but to lie here in both hell and heaven.

Her scent wraps around me, and her softness makes my cock throb with every shift of her body. I try reciting the alphabet and naming flowers, but none of it works. I just lie here, hard and wanting, until I finally can’t take any more, not when her lips press to my chest.

I grope her ass and haul her up, pressing my cock into her pussy, and she moans quietly.

She’s awake.

“You’ve been taunting me, haven’t you? Playing with me?” I murmur softly, not waking Kolton or Trav, who are on either side of us.

“Maybe,” she whispers, her lips curving against my chest.

“Bad fucking girl,” I murmur, rolling my hips and making her groan. Chuckling huskily, I tug her head up and bring my lips to her ear. “You want to get fucked, Beck? You’ve got your wish, but you’re going to have to be quiet, baby, or we’ll wake the other two, and I don’t plan on sharing you today.”

“Promises, promises,” she whispers, dragging her lips along my chest before she wraps them around my nipple and bites. It’s my turn to hiss as my hips tilt, pressing her hot cunt against my cock and driving me crazy. Ignoring my sleeping bandmates, I roll my girl so she’s pinned beneath me then grab her hands. I press them above her on the mattress, my eyes narrowed.

She grins up at me, and it’s a mischievous grin that tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing, her eyes flashing in challenge. “I bet I can make you make noise.”

I lick her lips, my own curving in a grin.

If there are two things in this world I can’t resist, it’s a bold-faced dare and Beck Danvers.

“Not before you, pretty girl. What do I get when I win?” I whisper, listening carefully to Trav’s and Kolton’s snores.

“What do you want?” she asks.

“You. I want you in every way I can have you,” I respond without missing a beat.

Her smirk only grows. “And if I win?”

“What do you want, pretty girl?” I mumble, rubbing my lips over her cheek as I rock into her, pressing my hard cock into her cunt as she bites back a gasp.

Oh, this will be too easy, and then Beck Danvers will be all mine.

“If I win, I’ll fuck them and make you watch. You won’t get to come. You’ll watch me come over and over again with your friends, but you won’t get to touch me.”

Jesus, fuck, I love this girl and her dirty, wicked thoughts.

“Deal.” I press my lips to hers, sealing the dare with a hard kiss.

We rip at each other’s clothes, and pajamas fly everywhere until we are both naked. Our hands scramble over each other, trying to be the first to make the other crack.

Her nails cut down my back as she grabs my ass and hauls me closer, sucking and licking my neck. My eyes cross as I bite down on my tongue so hard, I taste blood, swallowing the noises I want to make as pleasure storms through me. I press her thighs open.

Two can play this game.

I bring my hand down on her cunt in a soft smack, and I hear her breath hiccup. I grin as I move down, pressing kisses over her heaving, flushed chest before wrapping my lips around her pink, hard nipple and sucking. Her back bows, and her nails cut into my ass, but she doesn’t make a noise.

Good girl, she’s playing to win.

I bite and lick until she wiggles below me, then I turn my head and torment her other nipple, pressing my hand against her cunt until her hips wind and her cream slides across my palm as she rides it. Her eyes are scrunched together as she bites back noises of her pleasure.

Grinning, I slide lower, ready to torment her with my tongue until she cracks, but her hand darts out and grabs my hair, making me hiss before I cut it off. The sharp pain of her twisting the strands makes my eyes narrow as she lifts her head. She looks at me, and then with a slow, dangerous grin, her leg wraps through mine and she flips me.

She pins me, determination and desire written in every line of her face.

I can’t help but run my gaze possessively over her lithe body, every inch covered in ink and muscles. She’s so goddamn beautiful, it almost blinds me. Her blonde hair falls over her shoulder like a goddamn angel, but she’s all devil.

Beck Danvers is many things, but an angel isn’t one of them.

Her soul is as wicked as mine, and she only proves that as she leans down and runs her pink tongue down my chest, dipping into each of my abs before her eyes meet mine and she traces my cock.

My hands fist the bedding as I stop myself from reaching for her, and my teeth snap together with a click.

Pursing her lips as she lifts her head, she traces her tongue over her lips before her hand wraps around my cock, holding it as she lowers her head once more. She moves her mouth over my cock in teasing strokes, trying to break me. All the while, Trav and Kolton sleep soundly at our side, oblivious to our girl naked and wanting.

She uses her plump, pretty mouth to torture me, trying to get me to break.

That’s my fucking girl.

Fuck, she’s magnificent.

She should know, though, that I’ve been torturing myself since the day I met her, fighting off my own desire, and she won’t win this one. I have put my body through hell with addiction and lust, so I won’t break now. Not even for her. Not when everything is on the line.

Her nostrils flare in understanding, even as she wraps her lips around my tip and sucks hard enough for my eyes to roll back as pleasure explodes through me. Still, I don’t make a noise, and I’ve had enough. She had her turn, and if I’m not careful, I’ll come screaming her name, and this is one battle I’m not losing.

“I’m a recovering addict, baby.” I pull her up until she sprawls on me. “I’ve been fighting against my addiction every day, so do you think I can’t fight you for ten minutes to get everything I’ve wanted since the moment our eyes met? You’re wrong. Now scream for me, pretty girl. Wake our friends, and let’s show them what true pleasure looks like. Show them whom you belong to.”

Her eyes are wide as I lift her, and without waiting, I drop her onto my cock. The cry she lets out is worth it, and she stills, our eyes meeting as she’s impaled on me. I see defeat in her expression. Beck Danvers is not used to losing. “I win, baby. That means you’re mine, every inch of you, and I plan to make the most of it,” I tell her, even as she fights to get off me.

She’s pissed.

Sitting up, I groan as she slides farther down my cock, her tight, wet heat gripping me so well, I know I’ve found paradise in her body. “I won this one time, pretty girl. Don’t worry, I plan on losing to you for the rest of my life,” I promise as I kiss her, softening the blow.

She kisses me back, her hands gripping my shoulders as we start to move. We fall into an easy rhythm, like our bodies were made to be locked together. Her softness rubs against my hardness as I hold her tight, never wanting to let go.

Dropping one of my hands to her plump ass, I urge her on, rocking us together as our lips meet. Pleasure rolls through me so hard, my balls tighten, ready to spill, and I’ve barely been inside her. She just feels that fucking good.

It’s never been this good.

Beck Danvers is my goddamn heaven. I might be a sinner, but I’m begging at the doors for her to let me in, and when she does, I’ll never leave. I don’t deserve her, but I don’t care. She’s mine. I’ll spend my life worshipping her body, showing her how good I can be to her.

For years, my body belonged to this industry, but tonight, I reclaim it with her . . . for her.

She whimpers, and Trav stirs.

Pressing my hand to her mouth, I narrow my gaze. Her sounds are all mine now. I won. Now, I want my reward, which means keeping my brothers asleep.

“Shh, quiet, baby,” I demand as she writhes on me.

“I can’t,” she whispers, biting my hand.

Pride surges through me, so I roll us, putting us farther away from our friends. My cock slips deeper into her slick cunt before I pull out and flip her. I push her head into the pillow as I lift her hips and slam into her. I grip her throat as I roll my hips. “Then scream into that, baby, and make as much noise as you want while I fuck you.”

She does just that, her muffled cries reaching me as I lean back and hammer into her perfect cunt. My eyes drop to where our bodies are joined, and I watch my hard length drip with her cream as her hole stretches around me. Her hip dents under my fingers, and I grip her slender neck in my other hand as I ram into her, taking her hard and fast.

What started as a game will end with a promise of forever.

Her muffled whimpers and screams drive me crazy, so I can’t hold back. I slam into her tight channel, taking her hard and fast, knowing she will bruise from my grip, and the idea of leaving that possessive claim on her only seems to wind me up more, until my heart beats so hard it feels like it will explode from my chest.

Pleasure races through my veins, and when she screams, clenching around me, she takes me with her. I bite into my hand, tasting blood as I groan, my release spilling inside my girl. Dragging her back with my other hand, I force my cock as deep inside her as I can, filling her with my release as she flutters around me.

The never-ending pleasure has my eyes crossing, and when I can finally breathe again, I release my teeth from my skin as I slide from her body. She rolls over, groaning as she peers at me.

My heart hammers and my legs shake as I lift my hand to brush some sweaty strands of hair from her face.

“Good morning.” I grin lazily as she shoots me a glare, but her lips are smiling.

“Morning.”

FORTY-ONE

Chase falls back to sleep a little while later, but I’m unable to, not while I’m being held in their arms.

They came for me, and more than that, Kolton outed his trauma to keep me out of jail. They came for me, and then they held me all night to prove they were here, at my side, defending me, even when the world stood against me.

The house is quiet, and my thundering heartbeat is too loud in the silence. They were willing to do everything for me, even give up their dreams, their future. Someone willing to do that wouldn’t hurt my sister, would they?

What if it wasn’t them?

What if it was someone else?

What if they are innocent, and the truth will implode their lives? It will ruin them, destroy them, and now, I understand how foolish I have been. Blind revenge isn’t smart. It’s really fucking dumb.

I need all the facts before I conduct my revenge.

That leaves me reeling, even as their hands hold me down to Earth. I’m so tangled inside, I can’t even pull my feelings apart. I want them, I like them, I hate them, and I want them dead. I can’t even tell anymore. It’s all jumbled and leaves me gasping.

I slip out of the bed and quickly put on some shorts and a top before heading downstairs and outside. I put my headphones on and start to work out using their equipment. I haven’t done it in a while, but when I was younger, working out was my escape, along with singing, and I use it now. The push and pull of my body and the burn of my muscles drowns out everything else until I’m coated in a sheen of sweat.

I’m still confused but exhausted, so at least that’s something.

After showering and dressing, I find the guys have woken up and left my room, so I head downstairs. Trav is in the kitchen, wearing some workout shorts that display every hard inch of his body. His hair is still wet and pushed back, and apart from his nose ring, all his earrings and rings are gone. He almost looks naked.

He appears softer, but no less beautiful, and I sink into a chair, just watching him as I try to sort out my thoughts, my plan, and what I should do. I want to ask them to help me, but they are the ones I’m confused about.

“Where are Chase and Kolt?” I ask softly.

He jumps and whirls around. “Jesus, baby, make some noise,” he mutters, shaking his head with a smile. “Showering.” He heads my way and kisses me softly, which only confuses me more. “Morning. Good workout?”

I nod mutely, and he eyes me before heading back to the counter, where he starts to cook what looks like a breakfast sandwich. “I’ll make you one,” he says without asking, “then we can figure out the plan for today. Sound good?”

I nod again, but he doesn’t see. He starts humming as I stare at him.

I can’t do this.

It’s too much. I’m too fucking lost.

I just need . . . I need this to be over.

“I think we should break up,” I murmur.

The knife stops for a moment before he continues cutting. “You want cheese?”

“I said I think we should break up,” I repeat louder, my heart aching so much I struggle to breathe.

“No,” is all he says as he carries on making sandwiches.

“No? No, you can’t just say no.” I gape.

He turns and looks at me over his shoulder. “No. Now do you want cheese or not?”

I stare for a moment, and his eyebrow arches. “Cheese, please,” I mutter.

“Good girl.” He winks and turns back around, whistling.

What in the fuck just happened?

The confusion snaps me out of my spiral, and when he hands me my food, I just nod.

I eat my sandwich in silence, barely tasting it, and when I’m done, he clears the plates and washes up. I watch him the entire time. When he dries his hands, he comes over and presses them to either side of my chair, bracketing me in. “I know you want to run, Beck, but we won’t let you. We are together. We are a band, and we are dating, whether you want to admit it or not. We aren’t letting you go, so do whatever you have to do with that anxiety you feel, but don’t push us away. It won’t work. Yesterday was a lot, so go easy on yourself.” He kisses my forehead and stands as Chase comes in with just a towel around his waist.

“Shit, did I miss breakfast?” he asks.

“You already had yours.” Trav smirks, winking at me.

Chase grins, his dimple showing, as he takes me in. I’m plastered against the chair, no doubt looking bewildered. “What did you do to her?”

“Just gave her some honest truths. She thought we could break up.” Trav snorts.

Chase simply laughs, pouring a mug of coffee before leaning against the counter.

Kolton enters just then. “What’s so funny?” he asks.

“Beck tried to break up with us,” Chase tells him, still grinning. I gape, looking between all of them.

“Hmm.” He pours himself a drink and turns to me. “I suppose we didn’t officially ask her to be our girlfriend, so she can’t break up with us.”

His eyes sparkle, and I jump to my feet, pointing at all of them. “You are all fucked in the head.”

“Yep,” Chase replies. “Now, since we didn’t ask you so you can’t break up with us, have you finished your tantrum?”

“I—” I just shake my head.

“Thought so.” He heads my way, stopping when his warm mug touches my heaving chest. “Want to be our girlfriend, Beck Danvers? Because I really fucking want to be your boyfriend.”

Run, my head screams.

“I want you to be our girlfriend.” Trav kisses my neck, making me jump, and Chase moves slightly as Kolton grins at me.

“I want you any way I can have you,” he admits.

“I can’t date all three of you,” I whisper in shock.

“Why not?” Trav murmurs, licking my neck. “You can date whoever you want. As long as you’re happy, other people’s opinions don’t fucking matter. Plus, we like sharing you.” I shiver at the implication in his voice as Kolton nods.

“It’s true. We do.”

“And since I can’t kill these two and have you for myself, it looks like you are stuck with all three of us,” Chase adds.

“I didn’t say yes,” I defend uselessly.

“Say yes,” Trav whispers seductively, “and we’ll show you that being our girlfriend has its perks.”

“Like triple the orgasms.” Chase smirks, licking his lips as I follow the movement.

Swallowing, I glance at Kolton. He’s sane, so he’ll help me. “Say yes,” he murmurs. “Because let’s face it, Beck, you are already our girlfriend. We just didn’t label it. Say yes and let us spoil you. Let us worship the fucking ground you walk on.”

“I—”

“Baby, you almost went to prison for Kolton, so you can’t fool us,” Trav murmurs, biting my ear. “Say yes.” His hand slides down my exposed thigh.

“Yes.” The word tumbles out before I realize it, and it’s too late to take it back.

Chase smiles widely, and Kolton can’t seem to contain himself. Trav kisses my pulse. “Good girl.”

Chase heads my way, taking a big sip of his coffee and then tipping my head back with a hand in my hair. He forces my mouth open and spits it inside. “Swallow, baby, you’re going to need your energy for what we have planned.”

I do as I’m told, and for once, I don’t care. I give into them. Everything else can be tomorrow’s problems. Right now, I want them to make me forget for just a moment.

I’m almost vulnerable as Chase steps back with a wicked look in his eyes. “I had our girl this morning, Kolt, so why don’t you have your breakfast?” He sits, draping one arm over the chair as he watches us and sips his coffee.

Kolt’s hungry gaze is on me as he steps closer, and Trav chuckles, kissing my pulse once more before he moves away. Kolt backs me into the table, and then he places his hands on my hips, lifting me onto the wood as he lowers to his knees before me. “I am hungry,” he murmurs. “Be a good girlfriend and let me eat.”

“Kolt.” I don’t know what to say, and when Trav grips my neck, pulling me back so I’m leaning into him across the table, I have nothing left to fight with.

Kolt quickly strips me naked, and then his hot mouth is on my pussy, like he can’t wait. His tongue is confident as he licks me, hitting my clit before thrusting inside me. My gasp is swallowed as Trav yanks my head back and kisses me upside down. His tongue tangles with mine as his friend eats my cunt so hard, it almost hurts. I can’t stop myself from grinding into his tongue for more, and he gives it to me. Kolt suddenly fills me with two fingers, making me cry into Trav’s mouth.

Despite fucking Chase this morning, I want more. I want all of them.

I want the bliss I find in their arms.

I want the numbness pleasure brings.

It’s not long before Kolt has me coming on his fingers and tongue, and only then does Trav release me, sharing a look with him before I’m turned and forced to bend over the table. Trav presses his cock to my mouth, feeding it to me as I feel Kolt’s hard, hot length rubbing at my entrance, and then they fill me.

Trav’s cock slides into my waiting mouth, while Kolt thrusts into my cunt. Both of them groan as Trav tangles his fingers in my hair. Kolt grips my hips, which still ache thanks to Chase, but I don’t complain. I relish the pain as he pulls out and thrusts back in, hard and fast, making me choke on Trav’s length. Even as my eyes water, Trav yanks me deeper, forcing his length all the way down my throat and holding me there until I struggle to breathe, and only then does he let me up. Both of them work in unison to fuck me while Chase watches. His hot gaze makes my skin burn as I’m stretched and fucked between his friends.

“Damn, now this is a show. Forget being a rock star, pretty girl, you should be a porn star,” Chase remarks. “Though knowing everyone would be watching my girl doesn’t sit well with me. In fact, you can just be our porn star, our filthy fucking girl. When that front door shuts, you will be shared between us, your every hole ours to fill. Yeah, I can get behind that.”

My cunt clenches in want, and Kolton groans. “She likes that.”

“I bet. She’s a dirty bitch.” Chase laughs, and I hear his chair scrape back. I try to turn to look, but Trav keeps me trapped, his cock pushing deeper down my throat in warning.

“Why don’t you take her ass?” Chase teases, whispering to Kolt. “She’ll be tight, but she’ll love it.”

Oh fuck, oh fuck.

“Let me help you, brother,” Chase murmurs, and when I glance back, ripping off Trav’s cock, I watch as Chase grips Kolt’s cock and he parts my ass. His spit hits my crack, making me jerk, and he uses his other hand to thumb it into my ass before pressing Kolt’s cock there before he feeds it into me. I tense, but when Chase narrows his eyes on me, I relax.

I let them have all of me.

Why not?

I have nothing left to lose.

“That’s it,” Chase murmurs, releasing Kolt and grabbing his hips, pressing him deeper as Kolt groans. “Does she feel good?”

“Fuck, tight, so fucking tight.” Kolt nods, his eyes wild.

My forehead hits the table, but then a hand grips my throat, tilting my head up, and Trav’s cock is in my mouth again. He’s hard and brutal, claiming it until his balls slap against my skin. His lips are tipped in a snarl as Kolton claims my ass. His thrusts are unsure at first, but when I push back, he speeds up, filling me. The sharp pain fades to nothing but pleasure, and I slide down the table.

Fingers rub my clit, and I jerk. “Shh, pretty girl, I’ve got you. Look at this messy cunt. She likes this, likes being shared between us. Every time she tries to break up with us again, she’ll end up like this—face down and being fucked by every single one of us as a reminder.” His fingers fill my cunt, and the stretch is so insane, my eyes close as I cry out, locking up around them as my release takes me by surprise.

Trav yells, his hips jerking, and he forces his cock all the way down my throat as he spills his own so deep, I can’t do anything but swallow. Kolt’s cock seems to swell inside my ass until he struggles to pull from me, and then his cry fills the air as I feel him come inside me.

His hot cum splashes in my ass as I clench down on his length and Chase’s fingers.

“Good girl,” Chase praises, rubbing me through it until he pulls his fingers free. As Trav pats my head, Chase circles the table and sucks his fingers clean. “Mmm, that’s our girl.”

Jesus.

A soft kiss hits my back, and I lift my head to meet Kolt’s gaze. “He’s right. You’re ours.”

Why the fuck is it so hot to see all of them getting so possessive?

As the afterglow fades, however, reality sets in.

A secret part of me wishes this could be real, that I could be theirs and they could be mine, but it’s not.

None of this is real.

No matter what I feel, it can’t be.

It started from a lie.

When the truth comes out, I’ll lose them either way, just like I lost everyone else.

I won’t be their girlfriend, just like I’m not a sister or daughter anymore.

I’m just . . . alone.

FORTY-TWO

Ileft the guys playing pool and watching some form of fucking sports. I needed a break, to get out. I need answers. I need someone who will understand. Tugging my hood up higher to obscure my face, I sit on a wooden bench overlooking the river, tucking my hands into the long sleeves of the hoodie I stole from Trav. The smell of cheap hotdogs and onions makes my nose twitch, and my eyes rove across the vendors preparing for the afternoon rush, the women making their way to or from work, and the men in suits on their phones. They all ignore the spectacular view of the river, the city, and the bridge towering above it all.

For a moment, my hand wants to trace the tattoo of that bridge on my arm, but I don’t. I wanted to meet here for a reason—to remind me why I’m fighting to figure out the truth.

It’s the bridge my sister threw herself off of.

The bench rocks, creaking as someone sits heavily next to me.

Ben.

“So what now?” he asks. “The Trav thing was a dead end. We need more against them⁠—”

“I don’t know if it was them,” I admit softly. He’s quiet for a moment, and I can’t meet his eyes.

“Don’t tell me they’ve blinded you too. I saw the news,” he spits in disgust, and I glance his way to see his anger, but under it all is devastation that I might be giving in and letting my sister’s justice go.

I sigh. “No, but I don’t want to be blind with grief and anger too. All my instincts and everything I’ve found makes me wonder if they were involved at all.”

“If not them, then who?” Ben asks. “It had to be someone close.”

“I know, which means they would know too, even if they don’t realize it,” I murmur, my eyes locked on the bridge.

Did it hurt?

Did she regret it?

When she tumbled over the edge, was she cold? Scared?

I hope not.

I hope it was so fast, she didn’t feel anything, just closed her eyes and it was over. I know that’s a foolish, naïve want, but it’s the only thing that helps me swallow back my tears and not break down right here.

“So what’s the plan, Beck? You approached me, gave me hope. I need answers. I need justice,” he admits.

“As do I. I’m not giving up. I’m just . . . changing my approach,” I tell him. “I just wanted you to know.” I reach over and cover his hand. “We’ll find whoever did it. I promise you that.”

“Just don’t forget why you’re here, Beck.” He stands. “Don’t forget her.”

I watch him go, knowing I never could.

She is ingrained in every part of me.

There is no me without her, and maybe that’s why I’m so reluctant to confront the guys. Because once the truth is out, she will be gone for real, and I will have to find a way to live without her.

That’s something I never thought I would have to do.

She was supposed to outlive me so I would never miss her.

I was supposed to go first.

How do I find a way to survive that?

Putting my headphones in, I stare at the bridge as her voice fills my head. “I wrote a song for you today, sissy.” There’s happiness in her tone. I picked a tape at random, one I’d never listened to. “I haven’t shown anyone else, even the guys.” She laughs. “It’s just for us. I have this dream that we will meet again and everything will be okay. We’ll forgive each other and be better than ever, and you will help me finish it, and we’ll go up on stage together and perform it because that’s where you belong—on stage. Until then, here is the start. I hope you like it.”

Two souls, lost and alone.

We meet again at the crossroad.

So many memories, so much pain,

But when I look into your eyes, I’m home again . . .

Her drawling voice brings tears to my eyes. I can hear the love, hope, and happiness in her tone.

To know she went from dreaming of her future to ending it all right here breaks my heart. Did she sit here and plan it?

When her voice trails off, my heart breaks. “I hope you like it. It isn’t perfect, nothing I ever do is, but it’s mine. I haven’t said this in a really long time, but I love you, sissy, always have, even when we were fighting. You are the best big sister anyone could ever ask for. You protected me my entire life and showed me right from wrong. You showed me determination and never let me give up on my dreams. I wouldn’t be here without you. I just wish you were here to see it with me, but I know one day you will be. One day, I’ll get to show you around the city. I’ll take you to my favorite burger spot, and we’ll drink wine in the park as we write together. We’ll go to parties and dance way too much. You’ll be here, and I’ll be whole again. I better go. Give the song a chance, okay? Love you.”

Pulling off my headphones, I stare at the bridge once more.

“I love you too,” I whisper. “Thank you for being the best little sister.”

Standing, I grab the bouquet I brought with me and move to the water’s edge. I know there is a memorial on the bridge, but I don’t want to go there. This, right here, is my place for us. Staring down at the glassy water, I close my eyes and hope that one day, we’ll meet again, and we’ll do everything she wanted us to.

Letting the flowers go, I watch them float before they sink to the bottom, joining my sister like a promise.

Once I get back to the house, I feel unsettled and raw, like a timer is counting down until this bubble we have built around us will pop. The guys have no idea. I’m dragged to a BBQ pool party with just us. They proudly show me the new canvas in the house—my mug shot. They are so happy that it hurts, and as I watch Chase and Kolton play a game of tag around the pool, my heart starts to hurt.

This will all end, and they will never look at me this way again.

Trav’s arms wind around me as he scoots behind me on the lounge, his head resting on my shoulder. “You’re quiet today, baby.”

Swallowing back my pain, I lean into him and soak it in. I’m greedy for his touch, his love, while it isn’t stolen or filled with bitter anger and regret. Kolton looks over at us and waves, grinning widely before Chase dunks him under.

Words hurt. I feel like if I open my mouth, I’ll just start crying for some reason, but I force myself to, not wanting them to worry. “Sorry, just a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?” he murmurs. “Maybe I can help.”

Fuck, he’s so sweet.

I want to turn to him, to beg him to help me, but as I turn to him to see his earnest, hopeful expression, I can’t utter the words—not when he reaches up and cups my face, smiling softly. “I’ll do anything for you, Beck. Haven’t you realized that by now?”

“I know.”

Trav is pretty much an open book. He’s been very honest in his pursuit of me, in wanting to make me happy. Leaning in, he presses his lips to mine until my eyes close and I relax into his kiss. He keeps it soft and light, and when he pulls back, I’m left wanting. “Good, I mean it. If you ask for the world, Beck Danvers, I’ll give it to you.” He stands and hoists me over his shoulder. “Now, let’s turn that frown upside down.”

“Trav, no!” I scream, but it’s too late.

He plunges us both into the freezing cold pool.

I resurface and push my hair back, throwing water at him as he laughs. “Asshole, what happened to anything to make me happy?”

“You’re smiling, aren’t you?” He smirks as arms wrap around me from behind, and Chase’s voice fills my ear.

“Want me to save you, pretty girl?”

Shivering at his tone, I spin in his arms and wrap myself around him. His hand grips my ass and holds me up. “Kolton!” I shout. Kolt hurries over, and I grin wickedly at him. “You get Trav. I’ll get Chase.” I push Chase under as Trav yelps and tries to get away.

Chase drags me under with him, and when I open my eyes, he grabs my chin and pulls me closer, kissing me underwater. I lose myself in it, clawing to get closer as we break the surface, but I still don’t move away to breathe.

I let him consume me. Suddenly, I’m turned and pushed to the side of the pool. My head falls back with a groan, and his lips slide down my neck then back up as he nibbles on my ear. “You want me? You got me, pretty girl. Now what do you plan to do with me?”

I can’t help but grin as I wrap my legs tighter around his waist, then I spin us in the water until he’s pressed against the side of the pool. His dark eyes meet mine as I slide my hand into his wet hair and yank his head back. I lick the water from his throat, and his groan fills the air as I smirk against his skin. “Have my wicked way with you, of course,” I purr.

“Fuck, pretty girl, please do,” he growls, sliding his hands down my back to grip my ass. His big hands massage my cheeks as I lick and bite his neck.

I can feel Trav and Kolton watching, and it only makes this that much hotter, knowing they can see everything. Chase rips off my bikini as I slide my hand down between our bodies and grip his hard cock.

“Baby,” he pleads, his head falling back as he thrusts into my hand. “Don’t be mean. Let me see you while you ride me.”

Lifting my head, I reach behind me and undo the strings of my bikini top, letting it fall into the water as I grip his shoulders and use them as leverage to ride him. He quickly reaches down with one hand and shoves his shorts down so I can rub myself against his length.

“You want to see me ride you?” I flirt as I suck his bottom lip between my teeth. He gasps loudly, his cock jerking against me. “Then watch, rock star, as I take you.”

I reach between us, line his cock up with my entrance, and then I sink down, taking every hard inch of him into my body. I don’t let him look away. I watch his pupils dilate with pleasure, and I watch his lips part on a moan as I bottom out on his length, and then, I start to move.

Using his shoulders, I bounce on his cock. His eyes drop to my tits where they peek from the water, his hands urging me on. I see pure obsession in his eyes as he watches me, the water swirling around us. Everything else is forgotten in our hazy lust to get closer, to be together, to chase the pleasure we find in each other’s arms.

“Pretty girl.” His tone is full of praise as his dark eyes watch me, and he lets me fuck him.

Groaning, I shut my eyes as he tilts my hips until his cock hits that spot inside me that has pleasure burning through my veins, making me wild. Our desperation only gets worse until we just fuck hard and fast, our hips meeting in a flurry. Chase’s mouth drags over my chest to my nipples, where he sucks and bites them, making me clench around him as I cry out.

What started as a game turns into something darker, and we can’t get enough. He thrusts up to meet me, hard and fast, until water churns around us. There could be an earthquake right now and neither of us would stop.

His hand slides up my back, gripping my neck and dragging my head back so our lips meet. We eat at each other, riding the storm together. We use no words, just our bodies, as we chase the pleasure that’s building between us, heating our skin and blood.

I shatter with a cry, my pussy clenching around his length until he groans, his hips jerking as he buries himself so deep inside me, it hurts, and he follows me into oblivion. His cum fills me as he moans into my mouth, our lips touching as we pant, and pleasure rolls through us both.

It seems to go on forever. I struggle to breathe, and when I can finally catch my breath, I slump into him. His arms wrap around me as he places a kiss on my forehead. “Pretty girl,” he murmurs.

“Well, shit, I think they won the game,” Trav remarks with a laugh, and I giggle as I bury my face into Chase’s neck, letting him hold me.

It isn’t long before I’m dragged back into the others’ arms, though, and we play for the rest of the afternoon with no room for worries or concerns until we crawl from the pool and collapse, just watching the sky as we lie together for what seems like hours.

As day falls into night, I lounge in their arms, each of them touching me like they can’t resist. I know when the truth comes out, it will hurt us all.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.” Kolton sighs, pressing a chaste kiss to my side.

“Me either. The tour is going to be so much fun with Beck. We can show her all the best places, we can fuck until the bus is broken, and we’ll perform every night. It’s going to be heaven.” Chase smirks.

“Oh, we should find that restaurant in Seattle⁠—”

I tune them out, my gaze on the moon.

They are making plans for our future.

They are happy.

I’m going to ruin it all.

For the first time, I truly hate myself.

FORTY-THREE

Ican’t breathe. I slip from their arms and hurry inside. They, of course, follow me, sensing something is wrong. They aren’t the types to give you time to breathe or think. They are on all the time. I knew that. I knew what I was getting into.

I just didn’t expect it to hurt so badly.

I knew I would lose some of myself on the way. I just never expected it to be my heart.

“Beck, talk to us. What’s wrong?” Kolton asks, trying to capture me in his arms, but I continue to pace, unable to meet their gazes.

“Is it because of the tour? Are you worried about it?” Chase guesses.

“Or is it us?” Trav inquires. “Beck, please, you were fine a minute ago. What happened?”

“No, no, just give me a second,” I beg, trying to slow my racing heart and ease the panic consuming me. It’s all been too much, and my anxiety is taking over. What if I’ve messed up the only good thing I’ve ever had?

What if they are innocent?

What if it’s all for nothing?

I could stand breaking my heart, but I couldn’t stand breaking theirs.

“Beck, look at me,” Chase demands, and maybe it’s because he’s serious for once or because of his tone, but I stop and stare. “I love you.”

“No!” I scramble back, holding my hand up to ward him off. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” He arches a brow. “Love you? It’s too late, pretty girl, sorry,” he replies with a wicked grin. “I love you.”

“Don’t, please,” I plead, my eyes burning.

“Beck, I love you—” Trav starts.

I cover my ears and shake my head as I step back. “Stop, stop, please,” I sob.

“Beck—”

“No!” I yank my hands away. “You can’t love me!” I scream. “You can’t because I’m not real. This is all a fucking lie. Don’t you see that?”

“What?” Kolton frowns. “Look, let’s sit down⁠—”

“We can talk through this. We aren’t going anywhere,” Trav promises. “It will be okay.” He reaches for me, but I wrap my arms around myself.

“You can’t love me,” I state seriously, my heart skipping and then stopping as the truth pours out. “Willa is—was my sister.”

They all gape at me.

“And I came here to find out what you guys did to her to make her kill herself, and then I was going to destroy you. I gave up my entire life and wormed my way into yours to find your secrets and expose them, so you were as alone and as hurt as her, so I could get revenge for my sister. None of this is real. Don’t you see?”

The silence is loud and filled with horror as they continue to stare at me.

“I loved my sister more than anything in the world. We hadn’t spoken in years because of a stupid fight, but when she . . . when she killed herself, she left me tapes. I know she didn’t do it because of her mental health. Someone helped her there . . . pushed her there. I thought it was you guys, and that hate blinded me. I would do anything to go back and change how this happened, but I can’t. Don’t you see? You can’t love me because I’m not real. Beck Danvers doesn’t exist. She’s someone I made up to trick you guys so I could get revenge.” The words blurt out of me. “I thought I could do it. I thought I could be ruthless and not care about what happened as long as my sister gets justice, but I can’t. I can’t fucking do this⁠—”

“You’re her sister?” Kolt whispers.

“And you thought . . . You thought it was our fault she did what she did?” Chase asks carefully.

I nod, glancing at Trav who is pale, silent, and gaping at me in dawning horror.

“And you thought the only way to get justice for her was to become our lead singer and expose all of our darkest secrets and destroy us the way you think we destroyed her?” Chase carries on.

I jerk my head in a yes. “But you have to know I didn’t—I wasn’t going to. I had second thoughts from the moment I met you. I didn’t think you could do it, but I had to know⁠—”

“You could have just asked,” Chase sneers harshly. “Instead, you had to climb into our beds and use our feelings for you against us all while lying to us. You gave us hope for a future for our band and a future where we could be happy with you, Beck—whatever the fuck your name is.”

“Summer,” I tell him. “That’s my name.” I don’t know why it seems so important that they know that, but it is.

“Please, let’s just talk,” I croak, my eyes burning with tears as my lips tremble.

I was such a fool, an indignant fool, and now, faced with the thought of losing them, I would do anything to take it back and make this right, because they might have fallen in love with a lie, but I didn’t.

“I think you’ve done enough talking,” Chase snaps.

I swallow down my pain. I deserve this. I deserve everything they’ll throw at me because as I meet their devastated, angry eyes, I realize the truth I was too blind to see.

They didn’t do this.

My sister threw herself off that bridge.

That isn’t their fault, and maybe they have been hurting just as much as I have.

“You really think we would do something to hurt her?” Kolton asks, his voice small as he watches me.

“I had to be sure,” I reply. “You have to understand. She’s my sister⁠—”

“And we were your bandmates, your boyfriends,” Chase retorts, making me flinch.

I turn to Trav, knowing he’s the most levelheaded. If anyone will understand, it will be him. He’ll be hurt, but he’ll listen, yet he’s watching me with tears in his eyes.

“I love you, Beck. You made me fall in love with you.” His face pulls together like he tasted something sour. “Is that what you wanted? To destroy me that way? Congratulations.”

“No, I didn’t,” I insist, but he shakes his head, tears falling down his cheeks.

“I fucking love you, but right now, I don’t like you one fucking bit.”

“You can’t love a lie,” Chase tells him. “And her? She’s just a lie, a carefully crafted dagger in a beautiful package. Congratulations, Beck—Summer, you got what you wanted.” He throws his arms wide. “You got all our dirty fucking secrets. You got our friendship, our trust . . . our love. Use it, show the whole world.”

He looks at me with such venom that I actually step back, and I get my first look at the asshole side of Chase, the one everyone hates. Even when I first met him, there was a teasing note in his voice, but now, there is only sharp anger that cuts into me.

Trav eyes me sadly, and I see so much hurt in his eyes, I have to wrap my arms around my stomach to stop myself from reaching for him. “Just so you know, we had nothing to do with what your sister did. We didn’t even know or we would have tried to save her.” He leaves, slamming the door behind me, and a piece of my heart cracks from the sight.

Swallowing, I glance at Kolton. His eyes are on the floor, and he won’t even look at me.

Chase sneers at me. “I thought I was the bastard, but I was wrong.” He follows after Trav, the force of the door slamming rocking the new mug shot on the wall.

Kolton glances at me, meeting my eyes for the first time since I started talking, and the pain in his gaze is my undoing. “I hope your revenge was worth this.” He leaves as well.

He slams the door, and the frame falls, cracks spreading across the glass over my face.

I gasp, covering my heart with my hand. It feels like it’s being ripped apart. I can’t breathe, can’t think.

I got exactly what I wanted.

I got the truth, but the consequences are too much to bear.

Tears run in rivulets down my face and soak into my pillow as I close my eyes and skip to the next tape.

The house was too big, too quiet, so I reached for the only thing I could—her tapes. Her voice reminds me why I did this.

“I fucking hate it here,” she sobs. “I feel so alone all the time. There are so many people around me, yet not one of them knows what’s going on. The guys try to be here for me, but they don’t understand. How could they? I don’t let them in. I can’t let them in. Fuck, sis, I don’t know what to do. I don’t see a way out. I’m so fucking lost.” Her sobs break my heart.

Maybe we are both doomed to feel heartbreak and suffer alone.

It feels like we’ve been here so many times before . . . like I’m reliving her life.

“I wish you were here. You’d see through it all, know the answers. You always did.”

I almost snort. That’s where she’s wrong.

“You were always the calm one, while I was always reckless.”

I guess we were more alike than I thought.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be crying into these tapes, but I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know where else to go. It’s like I’m lost down a darkened street, every door is locked, every curtain is shut tight, and not a peep of light is to be seen, and I’m just wandering around and around in circles, begging for someone to help, and they never do.”

It’s like I’m seeing my sister’s life through photos, never quite fast enough to be in them, and I hate that. I feel so useless and lost, just like she was.

“I’m scared because it’s closing in around me, and I don’t know what I’m going to do.” She trails off for a moment. “I wish I were as brave as you, but I’m not. I’m sorry.”

The tape cuts out then, and I close my eyes, my tears falling harder.

I’m not brave, not in the slightest.

I’m a fucking coward.

For the first time, I really listen. I don’t let my grief blind me to the truth in her words.

I was so desperate to hold onto something, to give myself a purpose to keep on living after I lost the only other person in this world I love, that I blinded myself to the truth.

My sister killed herself.

Maybe there was a helping hand or maybe there wasn’t, but she made that choice, and instead of accepting it, I lashed out and ripped apart something that could have been beautiful.

I found my place here, just like she did, haunted by her ghost and closer to her than I had been in years with three men who made me happy, even when I was destined not to be.

I destroyed that like I destroy everything.

I pushed my sister away until we didn’t even speak anymore.

Now, I pushed away the three people in this world who loved me when no one else could, who looked at me and saw someone worth loving.

I’m a fucking idiot.

FORTY-FOUR

Iknew from the moment I laid eyes on Beck Danvers that she was trouble. I knew she would ruin us, and I was right. It doesn’t make me feel good, though, and instead, it fills me with bitter anger.

My heart aches in a way I didn’t know it was able to.

I love Beck, I really fucking do, and I hate that.

I hate that she made me love her only to break my heart. I hate that the first person I showed all my demons, scars, and pain to turned around and threw them in my face.

Like I was nothing, like I wasn’t worthy.

Fuck her reason. Fuck her own pain.

I’m hurting too!

Can’t she see that? Can’t she see how badly she has destroyed me?

My skin crawls, itching with the need to shoot up and make myself forget. I’m so lost in these all-consuming feelings, I don’t even realize that I’m outside of a bar. I try to turn away. I really fucking do.

I tell myself I’ve come so far and that I can’t ruin this now, but somehow, I find myself inside in the bathroom.

There’s a man there, and he’s laying out the powder for me. I stare at it in the dim light, bass pumping through the walls. I remember how easy it was and how I’d forget and wouldn’t feel anything until it wore off.

No one would know. One time wouldn’t hurt, right?

It’s ironic that I got clean because of her sister and what she did, and now I’m going to fall back because of her. She got exactly what she wanted.

She destroyed us.

I lean down . . .

TRAV

I don’t know where Chase and Kolton are. I should be more worried, especially because of how hurt they were, but right now, it’s taking everything I have in me not to break down. I have been obsessed with Beck since the first time I met her.

I fell in love with her slowly and then all at once.

She is the reason I wake up excited for the day.

She’s the reason I go to sleep, hoping to see her in my dreams.

She’s the fucking reason I breathe.

It’s all a lie.

I gave her everything, all my bitter, filthy past, and prayed she wouldn’t break my heart. I let her in so deep that even now, I want to go back and make sure she’s okay, and that pisses me off even more.

She did it for her sister, for truth and justice.

I hate that I even understand that, but she did it all the wrong way. She didn’t need to hurt us the way she did. If she had just asked, we would have told her everything, but she didn’t. She kept secrets. She lied. She used us.

I hope it was worth it for her, because I sure as shit know it wasn’t for us.

There’s nothing left of Dead Ringers, not now. We are cursed, just like Kolton once said—cursed to always fail right before we head on stage. Maybe Beck was right to destroy us. We’ve done some terrible things in the name of fame. We try to be good people, but it doesn’t always work.

I can’t believe she slept with me, all the while wondering if I helped kill her sister.

Who does that?

I couldn’t touch her without being obsessed, without falling in love, yet to her, it was just an act. How much of it was a lie? When she smiled at me? When she held me in her arms? When she comforted me?

Was it all a lie?

Who is Beck Danvers?

Why do I care?

I tell myself I don’t as I kick the rocks. My feet led me here. I stand before the memorial for her sister. We were really good friends, and she was like a younger sister to me. I didn’t even know how much she was struggling, and when she . . . When we found out what she had done, it destroyed me.

It broke a small part of me and something within all of us.

We blamed ourselves. How didn’t we notice? Were we truly so blinded by our need to get to the top? We all ended up in therapy over it, fucked up beyond belief.

I guess the sisters have that in common.

Crouching down, I brush off the dead leaves and smile sadly. “I met your sister. You were right. She is something.” I laugh bitterly. “You always said we would get along. I guess I should have trusted your instincts. I love her. I fucking love her even now, even as I feel my heart breaking. She’s everything you said and more, and I wish you were here, but the selfish part of me knows she wouldn’t be if you were, and I hate myself for that.”

Swallowing, I sit heavily on the wet pavement and drape my arms over myself. “Why didn’t you tell us?” I ask the question I’ve always wanted the answer to, knowing she can’t reply. “Why didn’t you tell us you were struggling? We would have helped. We were your bandmates. We were your friends.”

Silence is my only answer, just like it always will be because people do things we can’t understand.

First her.

Now Beck.

I fucking hate them both right now.

KOLTON

I don’t like being alone. It gives memories time to claw at me, and as raw and exposed as I feel right now, it’s giving them the darkness they need to take root and resurface.

Beck was good at pushing them back and helping me through them, but I can’t go back right now. I can’t look at her. It hurts too much, knowing she lied to me. I told her everything, I let her know all of my deepest, darkest secrets, ones I didn’t even want to admit to myself, and all the while, she was lying to me.

How could she touch me like that? How could she help me through it all, defend me, and go to jail for me? Was it really such a lie? If so, then she should be an actress, not a singer, because I couldn’t fake that kind of love. I couldn’t fake the way I feel for her, not like she has for us.

When I kissed her, I meant it.

She is the only person I let get close—close enough to touch and be vulnerable with. Now, knowing she could use that against us and that she was going to tell the world what happened to me . . . I swallow the bile in my throat.

How could she?

Even if we had hurt her sister, how could she do that to another person?

If she could, then she’s not the woman I fell in love with.

Chase is right. It’s all a lie.

I don’t know why I came back here, other than it was where we were happy, where I first trusted someone else.

My feet dangle in the empty pool. The party is in full swing upstairs, filled with celebrities and A-listers, yet I sit here, alone once more, knowing no one else will be able to touch me.

It was only ever Beck, and I can never trust her enough to get close to me again.

I will spend my entire life alone, haunted by the warmth of her lips on mine and the feeling of being loved.

I don’t bother wiping the tears away.

I let it hurt.

I cry for the lost boy inside me, the one who finally found someone to save him and keep him safe, only to be hurt again.

I cry for everything I’ve lost and everything we could have been.

FORTY-FIVE

Sick of feeling sorry for myself, I force myself out of bed, splash cold water on my face, and grab one of Chase’s hoodies I’d stolen, then I check my phone.

They haven’t called or texted, and my heart aches.

Flipping through the apps, I pick the one Kolton installed that lets me see where they are. It seemed useful, since they have the attention spans of kids and get lost easily, and I’m grateful for it now. I see Chase is the closest, so I grab my keys and head out to find him.

I need to fix this or I’ll live with regret for the rest of my life.

It doesn’t take me long to get to the bar in a taxi. After hopping out, I head inside, unsure what I’ll find, but whatever it is, I deserve it.

I search the crowded space filled with the scent of sweat and alcohol. Crinkling my nose, I search for Chase’s familiar face in the crowd, and when I find him, my heart breaks a little more.

He’s in a booth, his eyes glazed and wide, with lipstick marks over his face and neck. Giggling women surround him, and bottles are spread out across the table before him. I feel sick, and part of me breaks, screaming at me to turn and leave, but I won’t.

That’s what he wants.

He wants to hurt me the way I hurt him.

He wants to punish himself, and I won’t let him.

Forcing my chin up, I head his way. He meets my gaze as I stop at his booth, then he arches his eyebrow and grabs the nearest woman, tossing her on his lap like a shield. He’s doing it to hurt me, but all I see is his sadness, not the cold, angry exterior he’s trying to project, and I won’t embarrass him in front of all these people.

I know how quickly rumors spread, but watching them cling to him is pissing me off, especially when her red nails drag down his chest. I ignore my need to rip her off him, since she’s not doing anything wrong. She doesn’t know he belongs to me.

“Leave,” I demand, raising my voice.

Some of them glance at me, while some of them are smart and get the hint, scattering at whatever they see in my face, but the one on his lap doesn’t.

“You have three seconds,” I warn her. “Move, now.”

She blinks, glancing at me. “Or what?” she snaps. “He chose me.”

Rolling my eyes, I grab her jacket and toss it at her. “He’s too drunk to even sit up properly, and you’re not drunk at all. That’s fucked up. Go away now.” She glances at him, sees what I mean, and gets up.

“Shame,” she mutters. “I bet he’s a good fuck, or so I’ve heard.”

I grind my teeth and grip her arm, keeping my eyes on him. “He’s a person. He’s a fucking person, which makes him more than something you use to have a good time.” I thrust her away then and lower into the booth, stopping at his side.

He’s drunk as hell, but the daze in his eyes worries me. Gripping his cheek, I pull him close. “Fuck, Chase, tell me you’re not high.” He blinks lazily, and something in me shatters.

I did this. I drove him to use again when he was sober.

I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for that.

“Chase,” I demand.

He blinks, seeming to sober a little. “No,” he says. “I couldn’t do it.” I relax, breathing in a shaky breath. “I realized I wanted it to hurt, wanted to feel the pain of loving you. I wanted to feel because it meant it was real, even if it wasn’t.”

Oh God. I swallow back my pain and tears.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” I tug him to the end of the booth, but he shoves me away and falls backward, lying on his back on the sticky seat.

“No, I’m going to have a good night. I’m going to fuck everyone here and forget you.”

Gripping his hand, I help him up.

“I hate you,” he slurs.

“I know,” I whisper as I wrap my arm around him and drape his around me. “But I care about you, and I won’t let you self-destruct, not over something I did.”

It’s hard, but I amble us out of the bar, ignoring the onlookers, and then I head down the pavement, intent on getting us a taxi.

He leans into me. “Why’d you do it, Beck? Why’d you break my heart when I didn’t even know I had one?” He pulls away from me and slumps back into a wall as I swallow. “I didn’t know I could hurt like this, but you did, and you made it happen. Why’d you make me fall in love with you if you didn’t want me to love you?”

God, it hurts, and the pain in his voice destroys me in a way nothing else ever has. He’s so innocent, so trusting, so hurt.

“I never meant to make you love me, and I never meant to fall in love with you either,” I admit honestly.

He watches me with sad, drunk eyes, then he lurches forward, smashing his lips to mine. I soften and pull back, and he laughs bitterly. “Yet you won’t even kiss me, just another lie.” He falls back once more.

“I’ll kiss you tomorrow when you’re sober, then I’ll kiss you every day after. I’ll remind you why I’m worth the pain and effort, but not now. I won’t be another one of those women before me who took advantage of you, Chase. Do you understand me?” I grip his face. “Listen to me, we aren’t doing it like this, not while you are so drunk you can’t walk or talk. I will tell you that I love you when you’re sober. Even if you reject me, I’ll tell you now. Can I take you home?”

I hold out my hand. He watches me for a moment, and I’m afraid it’s too late, but then his calloused one lands in mine. “Fine,” he mutters. “I still don’t like you.”

“That’s okay. I don’t like myself much either,” I admit as I hail a taxi. I get him inside, and on the way home, he falls asleep with his head on my shoulder, and I realize then and there that I will fix this.

I will protect Chase from the pain, and I will say sorry until the day they forgive me.

I love him.

I love Chase Reed.

He’s cocky, he’s a smartass, and he’s talented, brave, cruel, and kind, but he’s also a secret softie who likes chocolate on his bread instead of butter, and hates the night but loves the day, and he’s mine.

He’s so messed up, but so am I.

Once I’ve settled Chase in bed after giving him some water and aspirin, I head back out. I have two other boyfriends to track down, and I’m determined because my sister was right.

There is more to this life than being alone, and when the end comes, even if we are lost in the darkness, I want them at my side.

I still want them, if they still want me.

Kolton is harder to find, but once I realize where he is, it breaks my heart. It took some bribing, but I got inside, and when I see him kicking his legs in the water, all alone and hurting, something inside me rebels.

Taking a deep breath, I head his way and sit next to him. I don’t bother rolling up my jeans, just drop my feet in next to his. He doesn’t speak for a while, and neither do I, unsure what to say. Out of all of them, Kolton looked the most hurt, and I understand why.

“I’m sorry.” It’s the only thing I can think to say.

He jolts and lifts his eyes to mine.

“I am, more than you will ever know. I could make excuses or explain, but what it boils down to is, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Kolton, and you have to know it wasn’t all a lie. What started as a plan, well, it spiraled. I never expected you or to fall in love with you. I never would have given your secrets away. You trusted me with them, and I never would have betrayed that. I couldn’t. I need you to know that.” I feel my tears fall, and I dash them away as the blue water and lights reflect over his pale face. “I love you, Kolt. I do, I really do, and I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry I hurt you. You have every right to hate me forever, but I hope you won’t. I made a mistake, and I’m hoping you’ll forgive me enough one day to give me a second chance because you are something special, Kolton. You are worth loving, you are worth fighting for, and you are worth so much more than me, but I can’t seem to let you go. You loved me when I didn’t even love myself, and I can’t give that back. I can’t let you go.”

I strip myself bare for him like he did for me as I look back at the water. “I was the steady girl, the serious girl. I never gave into emotions. I looked after my mom until she died. I was the one who took care of the funeral and house arrangements, and guess what? I was completely alone, and then my sister . . . It destroyed me. I had nothing left. I had been smart and good my entire life and look where it got me. I think losing both of them broke something in me, something I never thought I could get back until I met all of you. I did what I did because I loved my sister more than anything else in this world, but I also think I needed to be where she had been and to live her life just a little so I wasn’t as alone. It gave me a reason to keep living when I had none. I can’t go back and change what I did, and I don’t think I would because it brought me to you, to all of you, and I can’t regret that, even as messed up as it all is right now.”

I look back at him. “I loved my sister more than anything in this world, and she died without knowing that. I thought if I could figure out what happened and who was to blame, then I could show her that I loved her, but it was stupid. I’m sorry. She’s gone, and I just miss her so fucking much,” I sob, wrapping my arms around myself. “I regret everything I said to her the night she left. I want to take it back. I want to be on the sidelines, clapping for her, supporting her. Maybe she’d be alive and I wouldn’t be so fucked up, but I can’t change what happened. She’s gone, and I’m alone.”

“Not alone,” he murmurs, reaching over and taking my hand. “You made a huge mistake.” I swallow. “You hurt me a lot, Beck.”

“I know—” He covers my mouth.

“But some things are made to be broken. Some things need to fall apart, and sometimes the pain is just worth it. I’m broken, Beck, but so are you. You hurt me, but I’m still here. I’d still come if you called because it’s you. Look at us, Beck. Look at us and tell me this isn’t worth fighting for. It has to be when it feels this right. I’m not saying I can forgive you so easily for what you did, but you love so deeply, Beck, that it astounds me. You were so willing to give up your own life to avenge your sister, which I can understand even if I’m the target, and I think being loved that much by someone like you might be worth it.”

“We’re so messed up.” I sniff, wiping my face.

“True,” he agrees with a sad smile. “But so is life. Nobody is perfect, Beck. They just pretend to be. Nobody has it figured out, not really, so let’s figure it out together, okay?”

“You mean it?” I whisper. “After everything⁠—”

“Let’s start again. Hi, I’m Kolton.” He holds out his hand, and I smile.

“Hi, I’m Summer.” I shake it, and he grins.

“Nice to meet you, Summer,” he says. He grips my hand, and we sit with our feet in the water, just holding hands, and something inside me clicks into place.

Kolton offered to come, but I need to do this alone. I need to put us back together, so he went home to look after Chase. I know he hasn’t fully forgiven me, but it’s a chance to start again, and that’s all I can ask for.

I find him somewhere I didn’t expect. He’s sitting in the pouring rain in front of my sister’s memorial. I still don’t know what their relationship was, but it’s clear he cared. They all did, and I used that pain against them. Grabbing my umbrella, I head over and cover him. He’s sodden, but he gets to his feet and spins around, his eyes wild. When he sees me, his expression turns cold and angry.

“Go away, Beck, or whatever your name is,” he demands, raindrops pouring down his face.

“No.” I lift the umbrella higher to cover him, and he pushes it away. I stumble, and it drops. I don’t bother to pick it up, leaving it there as rain starts to soak me, chilling me to the bone.

We stare at each other in the pouring rain, unsure how to fix this.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him.

“Too late,” he snarls, his nostrils flaring. “There is nothing you could say that I would believe. You’re a liar⁠—”

I flinch. “I know.”

“I wasn’t finished,” he snaps, stepping forward. “You’re a liar, a user. Chase was right. You’re trouble. After all the shit we’ve been through for you⁠—”

“Please, Trav, just let me⁠—”

“Shut the fuck up. For once, Beck, shut the fuck up,” he yells, and my mouth snaps shut. I’ve never seen Trav lose his temper before. I deserve it, but I won’t let that part slide.

“No,” I yell back, matching his anger. “I fucked up. Is that what you want me to say? I made a fucking mistake⁠—”

“You fucking lied to us! You used us!” he screams in my face.

“I’m sorry!” I shout. “I’ll keep saying it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Trav⁠—”

“It’s too fucking late,” he murmurs, stepping back, his face cold.

Panic fills me. I can’t lose him.

“No, it’s not!” I blink through the rain. “It can’t be because I love you!”

Both of our chests are heaving, and we are wet through.

For a moment, I think he’ll turn away, but then he yanks me to his body, grips my wet cheeks, and presses his lips to mine. The kiss is angry, hard, brutal, and punishing, making my lip bleed.

I lean into him, desperate for more. I let him punish me, and I give it back.

I accept it all as his hands slide down and grab my ass, hauling me up. I wrap my legs around his waist. “I’m sorry,” I tell him, kissing him again. “So sorry.” I kiss him. “I love you.”

“Shut up,” he snarls, deepening the kiss.

The rain doesn’t stop, and I can taste it as I kiss him. My hands tangle in his hair, holding him so he can’t ever leave. Suddenly, he rips away and drops me to the ground, stepping back and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he stares at me.

“Why, Beck? Jesus, why wouldn’t you let me go? Just let me be angry,” he asks. “Why couldn’t you stop me from falling in love with you?”

“Because I wanted you to,” I admit. “I wanted to be loved by you. I wanted to know what it felt like to be someone’s favorite person, to belong to someone and see your eyes light up when you looked at me. I wanted to be the person you saw.” I swallow hard. “I still do. Come home, Trav, and let us all talk. I can explain. I can beg if that’s what you want, just give me a chance. One chance.” I hold my hands up. “If you still want to hate me after, I understand. I’m just asking for one chance.”

“And if I say no?” he asks.

“Then I’ll let you go,” I answer. “It will break my heart, but I deserve it. I’ll respect it, but it won’t stop me from loving you, Trav. Nothing ever could. I’m human, I make mistakes, so please let me fix it.”

“Some things can’t be fixed.”

“I can try,” I tell him. “One chance.”

For a moment, I think he’ll turn me away and that I’ve lost him forever, just like I felt with Chase, but Trav is a better person than I am. He takes my hand and leads me to the street, lifting his hand for a taxi. “I’m still mad.”

“I know.” I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself now, noticing how cold I am. “You have every right to be. I’m still sorry.”

He nods, and we stand in silence in the pouring rain, waiting for a taxi.

“You love me?” he finally asks as we wait.

Swallowing, I search his gaze. “I do,” I reply. “I didn’t mean to, but I do.”

Nodding, he glances up as a taxi pulls over, and he opens the door. “Then let’s go home. One chance, Beck.”

I won’t waste it.

FORTY-SIX

I’m drenched to the bone, and I shiver in the taxi on the way home, but I don’t regret it—not with Trav holding my hand and tugging me into the shelter of his arms, even though they are soaked too. There are still shadows in his eyes that I know I put there, and there are things we need to talk about, but right now, I just let him hold me.

Once we get back to the house, I hurry inside, barely able to feel my fingers, and I quickly remove my jacket, letting it hit the floor with a loud thud. The sound summons the others, and Kolton peers into the entryway with a soft smile as Trav hurries in behind me, blowing into his hands.

Chase peeks out after him. Luckily, his eyes are a bit more clear, and I tilt my head. “A whole fuck ton of coffee, though I think I might still be a little drunk,” he says in response to my searching look.

I smile at them, shivering and unsure what to do or say. It’s never been awkward between us before, it always just felt comfortable, but right now, you could cut the tension with a knife. They came back, maybe even forgave me, but they haven’t forgotten, and I can’t forget the pain of losing them.

I stand here, dripping and shivering, until Kolton sighs. “You need to warm up. Get out of those clothes, and we’ll run you a bath.”

“No, it’s okay. We should talk,” I start, my voice hesitant.

“Beck, shut the fuck up for once,” Chase snaps, “and take off your wet fucking clothes. You came after us—you love us—I’m done talking.”

I swallow at his cold tone, but then his eyes soften. “You’ll get sick if we leave you to your own devices. You’ll let your own guilt swallow you whole just to punish yourself, so take off your clothes, let us warm you up—you too, Trav—and then we can talk. Okay?”

“Okay,” I murmur.

Trav is behind me. I feel the heat of his body, and I tremble as his hands land on my hips. With gentle movements, he tugs off my shirt, dropping it to the floor. He unclasps my bra next, and I let that fall. All of their eyes on me, watching with desire and anger.

Their emotions coat my skin with each look, until I feel more vulnerable and raw than I ever have.

“Pants,” Trav murmurs.

He’s letting me choose, so I find my courage and push my jeans and underwear down, kicking them off. Now I stand naked, shivering and wet, my hair a knotted mess across my shoulders.

My every flaw is exposed.

Kolton holds out his hand, and I almost run to him, laying my hand in his. He tugs me into his side and wraps me in his arms before he leads me upstairs. I expect to go to my room, but he surprises me when he guides me to his and straight to his bathroom, where he turns on the taps of his huge sunken tub.

Rubbing my arms for me, he smiles sadly. “It’s going to be okay.”

My eyes start to burn, and I try to swallow back my tears, but when he holds me tighter, they fall. “Is it?” I whisper. “What if I ruined everything?”

“No such thing,” he promises, kissing my head. “Most would call me ruined, but not you. We are all broken things, Beck Danvers, or whoever you are.” He winks. “It doesn’t mean we don’t deserve to be loved and given second chances. If forgiveness were easy, everyone would do it.”

“He’s right,” Chase calls.

I turn to see him watching us, and with a flirty grin, he reaches behind him and tugs off his shirt. “I need to wash off the stench of booze.”

“And the lipstick marks,” I remind him, hating the jealousy in my tone. I know why he did it. It doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt, though, but I deserve it. Besides, there isn’t any lipstick on his lips or below the top of his chest, as if he couldn’t bear it.

He doesn’t stop until he’s before me. “I wanted to make you jealous and prove to myself that you cared. Maybe it’s a fucked-up thing to say, but seeing you jealous over them? It was fucking bliss.” He leans in and kisses me softly. “But I never let them kiss my lips. They are yours, pretty girl, and would have been for the rest of my life, even if we never came back together. You have stolen them, and they are yours, as am I.”

He moves past me, stripping off the rest of his clothes and climbing into the tub, sinking in with a sigh.

Chase is a conundrum—soft, hard, cold, and warm. To everyone else, he’s a womanizing asshole, but to me, this is the real him. He held my hand when I was scared and vowed silly promises I know he will keep. This is the real Chase, and I fall a little more in love with him.

Trav hurries into the room and plunges into the bath. As he resurfaces, he slicks his hair back. “Fuck, I’m cold.”

Chase kicks him. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

“You’re just too pretty,” Trav teases, and I smile, glad we can joke around after the shit show of a night we had.

Kolton shuts the door, and it feels like my secrets, truths, and questions all hover outside. Everything we need to talk about waits for us out there in the darkened hallway, but in here, we are free for a moment.

“Get in, baby.” Kolton kisses my shoulder. “I’ll grab some towels and be back.”

Nodding, I climb in and sit a little way away from them, but with a roll of his eyes, Trav grabs me and throws me between them. Our legs and arms tangle, and they warm me along with the water.

Kolton puts some towels down and then hesitates, so I hold out my hand, and he strips and climbs in with us. Bubbles expand as the water fills the tub.

I glance between them as they watch me.

“Can we forget everything else just for a minute? Can we forget that I fucked up and just enjoy this?”

It’s selfish, I know.

“For you?” Chase murmurs. “We’d do anything.”

I swallow hard, looking between them. “Then let me be selfish one more time. Fuck me. Remind me we are here and we are together. Remind me what it feels like to be alive again. Remind me I’m yours and you are mine, even if it’s just for now. Wash it all away, even if you are still angry, and love me through it.”

They share a look, and for a moment, I worry I’ve gone too far. I can’t seem to stop being selfish with them, but then they reach for me, answering with their bodies. They might be hurt and angry, but they still want me.

That gives me hope—hope we might make it through this.

I close my eyes, and I let them have me, the warm water chasing away the chill as I’m tugged between them. Mouths slide possessively across my skin, and talented fingers trace my sides until I gasp, relishing their caresses.

I savor it even when it hurts, like now, as one of them lifts me and forces me onto a waiting cock. My eyes snap open just as lips crash onto mine.

Chase.

He bites and sucks my tongue as he grips my hips and pulls me on and off his cock. The water swirls around us as other hands slide down my back. It’s mean. It’s brutal.

It’s a punishment, and I take it all.

I take everything they give me.

I’m pushed forward, and fingers probe my ass. The burn makes me whimper into Chase’s mouth, but he swallows it, slamming his cock into me, and then there’s another hard length pressing into my ass, forcing me to take it. Tears spring into my eyes at the sharp pain, but I don’t complain.

I let them hurt me.

I deserve it.

I’m stretched between them, the water overflowing from the tub as my eyes close in both ecstasy and agony. I am caught between them, and then they start to move, fucking me for real.

They fuck me with every emotion inside them, and I revel in it.

This isn’t making love, isn’t forgiveness. This is a promise.

I’m still theirs, and they are still mine. It’s a vow between our bodies that no matter how much we hate each other, how deep our arguments are, we still have this.

A hand grips my chin, turning my face, and my eyes pop open. My lips are sore from Chase’s kiss, but I gladly open them when I see Trav kneeling before me, holding his hard cock. “Good girl,” he praises with a groan as he slides his length into my mouth.

Lips meet my neck, kissing and sucking—Kolton.

His hands work me onto his cock, which is lodged in my ass, while Chase bounces me on his, trapping me between them all.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs into my ear, causing desire to spiral through me, even as Trav slides all the way down my throat. I fight back my urge to gag and breathe slowly through my nose.

Chase groans, lifting his hips and almost pushing me out of the water. “She looks so fucking good, being claimed by us . . . our marks all over her skin.”

The water heats, or maybe it’s my body, but I’m burning up between them, trapped and at their mercy, and they know it. They fuck me harder and faster, using me for their pleasure, but I like it. I like the pain. I like their hard, possessive eyes and bruising touches.

I like Kolton’s teeth digging into my neck as he claims my ass.

I like the fingers denting my hips as Chase fucks me.

I like the challenge in Trav’s dark eyes, daring me to object.

It makes my heart hammer and my cunt clench down on them as my release takes me by surprise.

My pleasure only seems to heighten theirs, and with a groan, Kolton bites down on my neck so hard, I feel my blood drip down my arm. His cock swells in my ass, and then he explodes, pumping me full of his cum.

Chase’s head drops back as he jerkily fucks me before groaning, his own cum spilling in my pussy, and then it’s just Trav. He grips my chin and thrusts into my mouth until he moans, pulling from my mouth and stroking his cock.

“Open your mouth,” he demands, and I do, but his eyes narrow. “Wider.”

I open my mouth as wide as I can, even as I shake with aftershocks, and with a groan, he explodes, aiming his cum at my tongue. It flows down my chin and onto my chest as he watches. “Swallow,” he orders when he’s spent, still holding his cock in his grip.

Shutting my mouth, I roll my tongue and swallow his cum as arms wrap around me lovingly. “Good girl,” Trav praises, leaning down and kissing me. “Shh, we’ve got you.” It’s only then I realize tears are sliding down my cheeks, and with a soft kiss, Trav wipes them away.

Chase rubs my raw sides while Kolton massages my ass, loving me.

Despite it all, I know we will be okay.

How could we not be when we are together?

It won’t be easy, but I never did like taking the easy way out anyway.

I’ll fight for them this time—for us.

FORTY-SEVEN

“Ask.” I jerk my head up at Trav’s cool voice, but when he looks at me, I see sadness in his gaze, not anger. “About your sister. This thing between us will never go away until you have your truth, so ask.”

After drying off and dressing, we all piled under Kolton’s quilt, tangled together, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before we had to talk. Despite everything, I need answers, and they need the whole truth.

Sitting up against the headboard, I look at my nails. “My sister left me tapes. She spiraled in them. I know she killed herself, know she was alone that night on the bridge and made that choice, but . . . I know something drove her there. I need to know what.” I lift my head. “Do you know why she ended her life?”

“No,” Trav admits hoarsely. “It’s the same thing we have asked ourselves over and over again.”

Kolton nods. “We thought she was okay. We knew she had become a little addicted to alcohol, but the rock and roll life is hard, and we thought she was coping the best she could. She was very good at hiding things.”

“I guess sisters are alike,” Chase mutters, and I flinch. “He’s right. She hid it well, or maybe we were just too buried in our own shit to notice.” He swallows. “Not a day goes by that I don’t wish I could go back and scream at myself to wake up and see her drowning, but I can’t. I can’t change it. I’m sorry.”

“We are guilty of not noticing her reaching that point, of being around her but never really seeing, but you need to know this, Beck. We loved your sister.” My heart stops for a moment. “As a friend,” Trav adds quickly. “It’s true she, um, wanted more, but I never did. We were close, all of us, but Chase is right. This life is hard, but it’s no excuse. We should have noticed. We fucked up, but I swear we never did anything to hurt your sister.”

“Did she say we did?” Kolton asks.

“No, she just . . . she hinted that something was happening, like someone was hurting her or bullying her and it drove her to the end. She felt so alone, so scared, and she kept saying she didn’t know what to do. I figured it had to be someone close, and since you guys were her band⁠—”

“Makes sense.” Trav nods. “Maybe, if you feel comfortable with it, we could listen to them and try to figure it out together. It’s something we have suffered with as well, and despite what you thought, I want the truth too. I want to know what happened to her.”

“Okay.” I blow out a breath. “In honor of being honest and shit, I contacted Ben. He’s a journalist, and he’s been helping me. He knows about Trav’s accident, he’s the one who dug it up, but I set him straight.” Trav flinches. “He was in love with my sister. He wants to know what happened and to expose whoever did it as well.”

They look worried, but they accept what I’m saying. “So it’s settled. We’ll find out what happened to her together.” Chase looks around. “Like we should have in the first place.”

Something about that seems to take a weight off my shoulders, like I have been carrying around this burden all alone and struggling and now someone has grabbed the other end and is helping me lift the insurmountable weight.

“So we work together and find out what happened to your sister, but then what? What about you, Beck—Summer? All you cared about was finding the truth, you joined the band because of that, so when you have your answer, will you leave?” Kolton asks, watching me carefully.

“What do you want from your life, Beck?” Trav questions.

“Honestly, I don’t know. For so long, I lived to take care of my mother, so I couldn’t have my own dreams, then all I could think about was getting the truth, getting even for my sister. I’ve never had a moment to consider what I would want out of my own life because I never thought I’d have one. I’ve lived every day for someone else, so it didn’t leave much room for me.”

“And now?” Chase presses. “We are asking if there is room. This is your life, Beck, and once the truth is out, you have to keep living. You need to find what makes you happy, what inspires you, even if that isn’t music. It’s time to stop living for everyone else and start living for you.”

“I want to be happy,” I admit. “I want to belong to something again, to someone. I want to have a family, and I want to sing.” I pull those wants from deep in my heart, where I buried them when I realized my life would never be my own and that I had responsibilities bigger than my own dreams.

“With us? Truthfully? If not, we have plenty of friends, so we can help you find the right fit to explore your dreams⁠—”

That, right there, reminds me why I’m staying, why I’m fighting, even after everything I’ve done. After all the lies and games, they are willing to help me find my dreams again, even if it means losing their only hope at theirs.

“With you, if you will have me,” I blurt, cutting off Trav’s speech.

They all look at me. “Are you sure?” Kolton asks.

I nod. “If you’ll still have me. I think you’re right. I think we could be something great, and I think after I find the truth, it will be time to live for me as well as her.”

“Then it’s settled,” Trav murmurs, watching me closely. “It’s not going to be easy.”

“Nothing ever is,” I reply softly. “But she’s worth it, and so are you guys.” I reach over and cover their hands. “I’m sorry for lying to you. When I realized . . . well, I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Kolton kisses the back of my hand. “Then let’s take it a step at a time. We’ll practice for the tour, and on our downtime, we’ll look into what happened. Deal?”

“Deal.”

It’s better than I could have imagined. I haven’t lost them.

I haven’t lost my home.

Chase stands, and it’s clear he’s still unsure, but he nods at me. “Next time, we won’t forgive you, Beck.”

I watch him go, and Trav offers me a soft smile before going after him, leaving me with Kolt.

“How about we listen to some of her tapes?” he suggests. “Maybe I can find something you didn’t.”

Hand in hand, we head to my room and share the headphones as I hit play on a random tape.

They are right, we can do this together, and I’m relieved I’m not alone anymore.

Somewhere deep in my soul, I feel my sister smile, as if I were always supposed to be here.

It’s as if she brought me here for this exact reason.

Not for revenge, but to find my happiness and follow my dreams.

Things are still a little tense with us. Now that the truth is out, we are all relearning how to act now that there are no secrets between us. It makes me sad to see them hesitate, but I understand and make an effort to mend bridges—I bring them with me to meet Ben.

We decide on a nearly empty restaurant. The guys don hats, and we sneak in through the back after tipping the waitress. Ben is already waiting with a steaming mug before him. I sit, but the guys hesitate, so I beg them with my eyes until they give in.

Ben watches them, clearly not trusting them despite the messages I sent him. “Are you sure about this? About them?”

I glance over at them. They are glaring at Ben, obviously still annoyed about the whole trying to dig up dirt and expose you thing. “I am. You have to trust me, Ben. They didn’t hurt her.”

“They didn’t save her either,” Ben mutters.

I feel Chase flinch at my side, and I cover his hand under the table, knowing he is struggling with that.

“We are all to blame,” I tell him, “and we are all trying to make amends and do the right thing. Plus, they knew her better than anyone. They can help. Please, Ben.”

He eyes them with mistrust but sighs. “Fine, if you say so, but if they fuck us over, I’ll spill all their dirty secrets.”

“Don’t threaten us,” Trav warns, his voice hard, and my head jerks around, shocked at the malice in his tone. “Do not threaten my family.”

“Where was that level of protectiveness when it came to her?” Ben hisses, leaning over the table.

Sighing, I put my arm out to stop them. “You don’t have to get along, but we are all here for the same reason—my sister—so let’s stow the masculine dick measuring contest and focus on the important things, like figuring out what happened to her. She would want us to work together⁠—”

“You don’t know that,” Ben hisses, but he seems to deflate a little.

I pull out the recording on my phone and hit play. I took it off the tape, not wanting to risk bringing it here and losing it.

They are all I have left of my sister, after all.

“We did a gig tonight. It was amazing, sis.” He gasps at hearing her voice. “You would have loved it. I did. It’s the energy you get from performing, from being on the stage with people screaming your songs back at you. There’s nothing like it. I hope you experience it yourself one day. It helps that my band is so amazing. We have our issues. Chase can be an ass, and Kolton can be withdrawn, but they are really nice. We’re becoming really good friends, and I feel like I belong here.” I hit the next one, where her voice is withdrawn and almost numb.

“The guys keep asking me what’s wrong. They want to help, and I love them for that, but they can’t. I wish they could. I know they would fight until the ends of the Earth if I let them, but I just . . . I can’t.”

I hit stop. “I ignored them the first time I listened, so blinded by my own hate.”

I hit the next. “I have a few regrets, mainly the mess I made with the band. They don’t deserve it.”

I watch his eyes turn glassy with tears, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows at her voice. I know Ben feels the same pain. “She didn’t hate them, Ben. She cared for them. She would want us to work together, so don’t do it for them or for me. Do it for her—the woman you loved.”

His eyes close for a moment, and when they open, they are still bright with tears but determined. “If someone was threatening her, then they had to be close. That’s all I keep thinking, which means they were or still are in your vicinity. Maybe if we had a list of who has access, I could try to dig up some information. I have a friend who owes me a favor. She’s a little crazy, but she’s also good at digging up dirt.”

“We can do that.” Trav grabs the notepad from Ben and starts to scribble down names. I wait as he thinks then keeps adding more. My eyes cut to Ben as he watches him. He glances at me and nods, and I relax since I know he’s going to help.

If he had kept coming for the guys, I would have had no choice but to destroy him—in for a penny, in for a pound.

I owe them that much for sticking with me despite all the shit I’ve put them through.

“Can you think of anymore?” Trav asks, passing the notepad over. Chase frowns, grabbing the pen and scribbling two more names before handing it to Kolton. Kolton reads it carefully and adds a couple more.

“They don’t work anywhere near us anymore, but you never know.” He shrugs. “I don’t know if this is helpful”—he passes it to Ben—“but I hope it is. For what it’s worth, we really liked her. She was . . . She was and always will be a Dead Ringer. We might not have been able to save her, but we want to get her justice.”

“Thank you.” Ben takes the notebook, closing it. “I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Good. In the meantime, we’ll keep our eyes and ears open.”

“While preparing for tour.” He smirks as he stands. “For what it’s worth, Beck, your sister always wanted you here. She always said you were talented, and maybe she was right. Maybe you were always meant to be here.” He wanders away.

I throw down some cash, but Chase rolls his eyes and shoves it between my tits before pulling out his wallet and leaving his own stack. I raise my eyebrow at him. “Pretty girl, I’m rich, we all are, and when you are, you can buy us food, but until then, no girl of mine pays for anything.”

It shouldn’t warm me inside, but it does. Fuck, I’m a sucker.

I’m a strong, independent woman. I don’t need a man to pay my way, but I can’t help but admit that it gives me a thrill to see him taking care of me when all I’ve ever done is take care of everyone else.

“He’s right. We better get back to practicing or our label will have our heads,” Trav adds, making us all groan in unison.

There is no rest for the wicked.

FORTY-EIGHT

\We seem to have gotten lucky that nothing came out the other night—no bad press or stories from girls wanting to hook up with Chase—but it means we need to be on our best behavior. We still have Beck’s arrest hanging over us, and although Kolton’s sister disappeared so they technically can’t charge her, we need to be good.

It doesn’t stop us from making the most of the tour launch party though.

Technically, the tour doesn’t start for another few weeks, but management felt it was in our best interests to reconnect with the industry. They even left the party up to us, and I completely forgot about it until the day before. Everything had been planned and handled so far in advance—before Beck even came on—that it’s a rush to get ready for it. This is the unofficial party. The official one will be filled with our top fans, critics, other bands, crew, and lots and lots of industry professionals.

This one is for the rock stars, for our friends, family, and people, where we can cut loose and be free. We received warning texts this morning reminding us that no pictures were to be taken and put online without their approval, to be reasonable, and not attract any cops. That was their only warning. We are on thin ice, so we need to make sure we stick to that and have a good fucking time.

Leaning into Beck’s door, I can’t help but grin. The party is already in full swing downstairs. Vendors set up all day, and we were locked away rehearsing, but now, music pumps through the house, and the smattering of voices belonging to people who are already here reaches us.

People are in the pool, drinking or fucking. Beck’s and our rooms are out of bounds, thank fuck, but everything else is fair game.

“Are you ready?” I ask her. She’s nervously fussing with her hair and biting her perfectly painted lips.

“No.” She huffs. “Everyone down there is famous and rich, and I’m just me.”

“Beck Danvers from Dead Ringers,” I remind her. “You’re one of us.”

“I don’t feel like that right now,” she says, turning around. Her expression is filled with anxiety, something I know very well.

“I still get anxious at these parties, but everyone is here to help us celebrate. They are all friends or friends of friends, so we have no enemies here. I promise.” I grip her chin and kiss her, unconcerned about red lipstick coloring my lips.

“How do you manage your anxiety at them?” she asks.

“I get drunk.” I wiggle my eyebrows, and she giggles, the sound making my chest cave open. God, I would do anything to hear that sound every single fucking day of my life.

Making Beck laugh is better than winning any award.

“You look incredible,” I whisper. “That should have been the first thing I said when I walked in here.”

Her top is made of strings of jewels, barely covering her nipples, and when she moves, I swear I see them flash. It cowls around her neck, and the jewels reach around the sides like a lover’s touch. Her leather shorts are skintight, leaving nothing to the imagination, and they remind me why I can’t even be near Beck without getting hard. Her hair falls in waves down to her hips, and her lips are a deep, purple-hued red. Her ears are filled with piercings, and I find myself grinning when I see the one I gave her earlier. The small stud is black, clashing with the silver jewels of her other earrings, but it matches the one in my lobe, and something about that makes me want to slam inside her hot body as I stare at that small sign of possession.

“You think so? Do I look good enough to hang out with you and your celebrity friends?” she mocks, stepping back to do a twirl.

Grinning, I grab her hand and press it against my hard cock. “What do you think?”

Her eyes dilate and her lips part with desire as she grips me. My gaze drops to her mouth again, and I wonder if I have time to take care of my girl’s wants when Chase’s annoying voice fills the air.

“Come on, fuckers, it’s time to party!” Chase calls up the stairs. “Don’t make me come and get you!”

I almost groan, and she shakes her head, both of us wanting to finish what we started, but if we don’t go down there right now, Chase will just come up here and drag us downstairs with our pants around our ankles.

He’s an asshole like that.

“You heard the man.” I grin and take her hand. “Let’s party.”

Beck is a couple of drinks deep, and she seems more relaxed. She smiles at anyone who comes to talk to us, but she doesn’t bother introducing herself, which annoys me. She’s acting like she’s sitting with us, not one of us. She’s not a fucking groupie.

She’s our girl.

She’s our lead singer.

When she heads into the pool room to escape for a little bit, I follow her. There’s a couple in here making out, and I jerk my head at them. They leave immediately, and I shut the door behind me, only to roll my eyes when Kolton follows me in with a grin. He never takes his eyes off our girl, so it’s not a surprise he followed her too.

“What are you guys doing?” she asks, turning around with a frown.

The music pumps through the walls, muffling our voices from everyone else, but the closed door gives us some semblance of privacy, so I head her way, only to freeze when it swings open again. Turning, I arch a brow as a grinning Chase comes in and slams it. “Thank fuck. Save me from all the women out there, pretty girl.”

She snorts. “Must be so hard for you.”

“Lock it,” I order Kolton, and he turns it so no one else can wander in.

“I know something that’s hard.” Chase winks.

She rolls her eyes and turns away, and I watch his eyes darken. He storms past me, cuffing her neck and dragging her back until she’s pressed against his body. “I have been dodging hands all night, pretty girl, and I haven’t let a single fucking one of them touch me. I don’t even want them to. I don’t even look at women anymore. Only you. You’re the only thing I think about, and as much as I like seeing you jealous, I don’t want you to worry. I’m yours, Beck, all the way through.”

She shudders, glancing at me, and I see desire burning in her gaze, loosened by the alcohol and privacy.

“Maybe she needs to be reminded,” I murmur as I step in front of her, tilting her chin up with a finger. My black nail polish shines brightly against her skin, and my skull ring catches her flesh, making her groan. Kolton hops up on the pool table, and it gives me an idea. I can’t help but smirk.

“What do you think, baby? Do you need to be reminded of who you are and how much power you have over us? We are the three richest and most powerful men in this house, and that’s our tour party out there, but we are in here, begging for a taste. What does that tell you?”

“Trav,” she whispers. “The party⁠—”

“The door is locked, and it’s our party, and we do what we and who we want, which is you,” I whisper.

Chase grins at me and grips her hips, trapping her between us as he licks a line up her neck to her ear. “Let’s see how well the music covers your screams, pretty girl.”

Dropping to my knees, I run my hands up her legs to her hips, grabbing her shorts and pausing as I wait for permission. I want her to take charge. She looks down at me, biting her bottom lip.

“Look at him,” Chase murmurs, nipping her ear. “He’s one of the most wanted and powerful men in any room, and he’s on his knees, begging for a taste of you.”

I arch a brow, waiting, and she smirks before leaning back into Chase. “Then we better not keep him waiting. Take my shorts off.”

That’s my girl.

I unbuckle them and slide them down her legs. Lifting one, I drag my nose over her foot, pulling the shorts off as I go, before kissing it and dropping it to the floor then doing the same to the other. I toss her shorts away, and now she’s just in that jeweled shirt and her heels.

“Keep her like that,” Kolt orders. “Her shirt and heels have been driving me wild all night. I want to look at them while I fuck her and feel her heels digging into my ass while her pretty tits push through with each thrust.” We all look at him in shock, and he grins. “What?”

“Nothing.” I shake my head, winking at Beck. “You heard the man.”

“Better do as I’m told then, huh?” She reaches down, grips my chin, and tugs me up her body until my mouth is level with her pussy. “Or better yet, you all do as you’re told. You want a taste, baby? Make me come. Make me scream, and I’ll let you fuck me.”

“Promise?” I murmur, licking her mound. I watch her eyes darken, and her grip on my chin tightens.

“Show me why I should let you,” she commands while turning her head, grabbing Chase, and dragging him into a kiss.

His groan echoes around the room, and she moans into his mouth. Narrowing my eyes, I slide my hand up one of her supple thighs and drag it up. I press her heeled foot into my shoulder as I grip her hips and pull her closer, burying my face in her pussy and inhaling deeply.

I’m unable to stop my groan at the scent of her. Beck Danvers is a threat to my sanity. My cock jerks as her arms wrap around me, driving me wild, and I can’t resist dragging my tongue from the top of her pretty, pink, wet pussy down to her hole and then back up.

She gasps into Chase’s mouth, making me smirk as I lick every inch of her, dipping even lower and circling her asshole before pressing my tongue inside her. She jerks but rocks her hips as I tongue her pretty ass, holding her to me. The heel of her foot digs into my shoulder, making me hiss, but the pain only makes me more determined.

I want everyone out there to hear her scream, to know what’s happening in here and whom she belongs to.

“Trav,” she whimpers, and I glance up. Her eyes are locked on me, and her mouth is parted on her moans. Chase’s hands cup her breasts, tweaking and playing with her nipples as she spreads her legs wider, offering herself to me.

How can I resist?

Beck Danvers was created to break men like me.

Break them and own them.

She can break me, and she can own every inch of me as long as she doesn’t take this pretty pussy away. I’ll live on my knees if she wants.

Licking up, I flick her clit and make her cry out. Her back arches, and the sight is so fucking sexy, I have to reach down and grip my cock, stopping myself from coming. Closing my eyes, I lash her clit until she cries out, tilting her hips and grinding her cunt into my face until I can’t breathe.

I bury my face deeper, thrusting my tongue inside her and tasting every inch of her delicious cream. I feel it covering my face and neck, and I want more. I want it to cover every inch of me like a brand. I want to smell her all over me all night.

Sucking her clit, I demand more of her cream, sliding my hand higher on her leg as I thrust two fingers inside her. I force my rings in there, knowing the bumps on them hit that spot inside her as she screams, clenching around my fingers.

Looking up, I see Chase pinching her pretty pink nipples as her chest flushes. Her leg starts to tremble at my side, and I know she’s close. I shove another finger into her, stretching her as I fuck her with them, all while sucking and licking her throbbing clit until she comes with a scream.

She gushes down my fingers and into my waiting mouth as I drink every drop, licking her clean as she cries. She traps my head with her legs, her body shaking for me, until she tries to push me away. I don’t let her. I keep licking until she’s whining again, and only then do I sit back.

My cock is so hard, I’m surprised it hasn’t burst from my jeans. It’s painful, and each brush of the denim nearly makes my eyes cross as I stare at her dripping pussy. I need to be inside her more than I need my next breath.

“I love the taste of your cum.” I slide all three fingers into my mouth as I meet her gaze, sucking them clean. “But I need to be inside your pretty cunt more.”

I’m wild as I surge to my feet and slam my lips to hers, making her taste herself as she groans, lifts her legs, and wraps them around my waist as I drag her away from Chase and turn us. I drop her to the nearest surface, which happens to be the pool table. She falls back against the felt, sending balls flying everywhere, and her hands slide down my chest before tugging at my jeans. “Then fuck me, Trav.”

Jesus fucking Christ. I take in the sight of her spread below me for a moment— her blonde hair, wild eyes, bruised lips, and flushed chest. Beck Danvers is an otherworldly being, and until I met her, I didn’t know what all the songs I sang meant.

Now I understand them.

Her eyebrow rises as I continue to stare. “Are you going to fuck me, Trav, or are you having trouble?” She smirks. “If so, there are two other cocks here—” I press my hand to her mouth, and her eyes widen as I smirk.

“There, that’s better.” I grab the pool cue. “But now, you’ll get this for being a brat.”

She widens her eyes, clearly wondering what I mean. Grabbing her hands, I drag her up the table until she’s spread wide on it, and I press the cue to her wrists and notch it in each pocket, trapping her.

“Try to struggle,” I order. “Go on.”

She fights to free her hands, the pool table moving from the force, but she gets nowhere, and she glares at me, trying to work it out of her mouth.

I release her mouth and grab a ball from the table. “Finished being a brat?” I ask as I drag the wet ball down her heaving chest, over her tight nipples, and lower. She moans as I slide it along her wet pussy, rubbing the ball into her clit until she’s rolling her hips, fucking herself on it, her eyes shutting in pleasure.

“Good girl,” I praise, but then I pull it away when she’s close again, making her snarl my name in annoyance. Chuckling, I lick the ball clean as I watch her before sliding it over her overheated pussy again as she kicks at me.

Ignoring her, I pin one leg with my other hand and slide it around her clit in maddening circles until she cries out, her back arching even as she’s pinned. I see Chase and Kolton moving around to watch what I’m doing, and I don’t care—not with my girl below me like this. I rub it over and over until it’s dripping with her cream, and then I slide it down, pressing it to her hole as her eyes snap to mine.

“Got to get you nice and stretched to take us all, baby.” I smirk as I work it inside her, stretching her to the point that she cries out but still begs for more. Her pussy sucks me in deeper as she clamps around my fingers and the ball.

“Trav,” she pants, but I pull it out slowly and work it back in, fucking her with it as she lifts her hips, chasing her release. I speed up my thrusts, grabbing another ball with my other hand. “Suck it,” I demand.

She licks and sucks it before I rub it against her clit, all the while pushing the other ball deeper into her, and then she comes with a scream. Her cunt clenches around my hand so tightly, I hiss.

I rub her through it, slowly working the ball out of her as she cries out, her body jerking, and then I toss them to the side, shove my jeans down, and pull her farther down the table, forcing her arms to stretch to the point of pain, and then I slam into her cunt.

She cries out my name, bearing down on my cock as I force her to take every hard inch until she weeps around it. Hissing, I grab her hips and hammer into her, knowing I won’t last long. I’ve been taunting myself as much as her, and with her tight, wet heat wrapped around me, I’m lost.

I suck her nipples, hearing her heart thundering below me as I deepen the angle, stroking across the nerves inside her with each thrust.

“Please, please, God, Trav, please,” she chants, her words slurring as if she were drunk on pleasure as I fuck her hard and fast. The table whines with the movement, but I don’t care. When I stand, I grip her hips to the point of pain, watching those jeweled chains slide over her skin like a snake, and I groan.

My balls are tight, and my cock throbs. The pleasure burning through me is too much, and I know I’m going to come. I can’t hold back. I pinch her clit, and she cries out, clenching on my cock, her release slamming through her and dragging me with her.

Roaring, I pull out and pump my dripping cock, squirting all over her chest. I work every drop of cum free as I groan, watching it slide over her perfect skin. Her eyes are closed, her mouth is open, and her legs are still wrapped around me.

When there isn’t another drop in me, I collapse forward, gasping for air. “Fuck,” I mutter.

“Holy hell.” She looks down at the mess on her chest with a groan. “Trav.”

I smirk. “I’ll fix it.”

I rub my cum into her incredible tits as she moans. Her chest and face are still flushed, and her legs are still shaking from all her orgasms.

“My turn.” Chase smirks, and Beck’s eyes widen, her breath catching as I chuckle.

“Didn’t think you were done yet, did you, baby?” I tease.

FORTY-NINE

“What, you didn’t think you were only taking him, did you, pretty girl? This is our party, and you are ours. We are here to celebrate the band, and you’re going to celebrate by fucking every member of the band.” I remove the cue as Trav slumps, and she groans, dropping her arms down by her sides as she relaxes. We can’t have that. I like her fire. I like it when she fights me.

Gripping her neck, I tighten my hold until her eyes focus on me, still hazy with pleasure. “There she is. Hi, pretty girl.”

“Hi.” She giggles.

“Are you going to be a good girl and just lie back and let me fuck you?” I ask, dragging the cue down her body and pressing it to her pussy. “I think you will. He fucked the will out of you, didn’t he? I don’t think you even have it in you—” My head rocks to the side with the slap, and I grin as I look back at her. “Fight me, beautiful. You know I like it hard and rough with you.”

“Asshole,” she mutters as I press the pool cue to her entrance. “Don’t you fucking dare.” She kicks me away, making me laugh as I stumble back.

She slides from the table but wobbles, catching herself on it, then points at me. “Sick fuck.”

“You love it.” I smirk as I crowd her, grabbing her and turning her. I bend her over the table, exposing her sweet ass and glistening pussy to my hungry eyes. She goes willingly despite her words but pretends to struggle again, so I slam the cue over her ass like a cane. She yelps, and I groan, looking at the red line forming on her perfect ass. “Jesus, that’s fucking hot.”

Keeping her pinned with one hand, I bring it down on her cheeks again. She yells and curses at me, but I smirk, massaging in the sting and sliding my hand down, circling her hole until she whines and relaxes, and then I bring it down again twice more in rapid succession.

“Oh, she likes it,” I call out. “She’s fucking dripping as I cane her like the naughty bitch she is. Don’t you, Beck? You like me punishing you, like me making it hurt.”

“Shut up,” she hisses.

“I’m going to cane this pretty ass so hard, you won’t be able to sit down tonight without thinking of me and the pleasure I’ll bring you,” I promise. She tries to lift her head, but I squeeze tighter, smacking her ass with more force. “Behave or I’ll fuck you with it,” I warn.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she mutters, even as she relaxes.

“Watch me, baby,” I purr as I slap her pink, raw pussy. She cries out, but I watch her cream slide from her. Chuckling, I do it again, catching her clit, and she screams. “Fucking hell.” I nearly spill from the sight, but I can’t stop. I bring it down on her ass and pussy in random slaps, never letting her get used to it. She cries out in pain and pleasure.

Her ass is red and covered in marks, her cream drips down her thighs, and her clit is so engorged, I can’t help but lean down and suck it as she whimpers.

“Jesus, you’re going to come, aren’t you, pretty girl?” I slap her clit. “Just from this, you’re going to come for me.”

“Asshole.” She pants, pushing her ass back for more, and I slide my hand across her ass, pushing my thumb between her cheeks and past her ring of muscles, claiming her ass as I hit her clit with light strokes until she locks up. She shouts her release, practically squirting across me.

The sight is so fucking hot, I drop the cane and fumble with my pants. I manage to shove them down and slide my cock along her dripping pussy, then I pull my thumb from her ass as I slam into her cunt.

“Chase!” she howls. I keep her pinned between me and the table as I work deep, forcing her to take every inch, knowing she will feel it all the way to her stomach, and then I pull out and slam back in, rattling the table with the force. She cries out, clenching around me as I feed her my cock, all while thumbing her pretty, tight ass. I push another in her ass, making her cry out as I fuck her.

“God, you feel so good, pretty girl. Look at you, taking me so well. You were made for us, to take our big cocks.” I watch her clench around my dripping length and fingers. “Jesus, Beck, you’re going to kill me. One touch of this cunt and I’m lost. I forget everything but you. You are all I think about. If I even smell you, I get hard. It’s fucking annoying.”

She chuckles, but it turns into a moan as I push my fingers deeper, stretching her ass for me. “Fuck, pretty girl.” My hips jerk as I lose all rhythm, unable to hold myself back as I hammer into her. “I’m wild for you. I need to fill you with my cum more than I need to breathe. I want to go out there and know it’s dripping from this messy cunt for us. I want to know that while they fawn and flirt all over you, you’re squeezing my release inside your cunt.”

“Chase,” she cries out, pushing back.

“Say it, pretty girl. Say you want me to pump you full of my cum. Tell me you want to be filled with my rock star cum,” I demand as I hammer into her, fighting back my own release.

“Please, Chase, please come inside me. I want to feel it. I want to feel you fill me.” Her voice is garbled with the force of my thrusts. “Make me come.”

“Fuck!” I thumb her asshole deeper. “Come for me. Let me feel you rain on my dick.”

She whimpers.

“Come, Beck!”

She cries out, her pussy clenching as her release takes over, locking up her entire body as she gushes around my cock. It pulls my own release from me, so I pump my cock deeper inside her until my cum splashes into her pretty cunt.

Groaning, I lean over her back, panting and sweaty but so fucking satisfied, I can barely move.

We lie like this, panting for a little while, before I pull my fingers from her ass as she whimpers, and then I slide my cock free, watching my cum slide from her cunt. I scoop it up and thrust it back in, fingering it deep into her channel.

“That’s it, pretty girl, keep it deep inside you,” I praise. I turn her head and kiss her.

“Chase,” she whispers against my lips.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl,” I promise, kissing her. “But you have another member to take.”

I stumble back, falling into the settee near Trav, my legs jelly after coming so hard, I nearly saw stars.

Kolton heads her way, lifting her chin and kissing her softly. “I don’t need to have you to know you want me. It’s okay, relax.”

“No, I want you.” She grabs his shirt. “I need you, Kolt, even after having them. I will always need you.”

“Better make it quick before our party guests come looking.” I smirk.

For a minute, I think he’s going to back down, but then Kolton rolls his shoulders back and grabs Beck, hoisting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist. “Then I better be quick, but I’ll still make our girl come harder than either of you.”

FIFTY

Idon’t have long until someone comes looking for us, but I want my girl, so I’m going to have her. Sliding her down my body, I lay her on the floor and follow her down as I kiss her. She relaxes beneath me, kissing me back and dragging me closer. I nip her plump lower lip, then I take it between my teeth and suck on it until she groans for me.

“Kolton,” she begs, moving her hips against me despite the fact that she just took Trav and Chase.

“Shh, I’ve got you, baby,” I promise, licking her puffy bottom lip. She reaches between us, pulls my cock free, and strokes it as I relax between her thighs, not rushing despite the party going on outside. I will never rush when it comes to my girl. She deserves every slow inch of me fucking her.

“Kolt,” she whispers, her lips finding mine and kissing me possessively.

She tastes like heaven.

Her hands slide over my body, making it hers in every single way, and I can’t hold back despite my promise. Gripping one leg, I throw it over my hip, opening her dripping pussy up for me, and she whimpers. I suck on her tongue as she rocks against my cock, rubbing herself all over my length, getting me nice and wet.

Her wet heat makes me rock my hips into her until we both groan. “Please,” she whispers into my mouth, and how could I resist?

Tightening my hand on her thigh, I press my length against her entrance, and when she drops her head back, I surge inside her, impaling her on my length. Her eyes roll back into her head as she cries out. Her back arches, so I lean down and suck her nipples, feeling her cunt clench around my length in response. Smirking, I bite and suck as I pull out and slide back in. Each thrust moves us across the floor until I slap my hand down on it and hold us still.

Her nails grip my arms, pulling me closer, and her other leg wraps around me to hold me as close as she can as she rolls her hips to meet my thrusts. Her eyes meet mine, and those bright orbs stop my heart for a moment before it restarts, seeming to beat out her name.

Gripping her chin, I push her head back and slide my hand down to her throat. I watch the dainty column compress under my grip, even as her eyes flare. “Do you like us fucking you raw, sweetheart? Do you like us claiming you like this? Do you like us being so deep in this cunt, you’ll never get us out?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chants, lifting her hips as I take her deeper. A flush covers her perfect chest as I fuck her. “Kolt, please, oh fuck, don’t stop.”

“I don’t plan to,” I reply as I suck on her lower lip. “Not until you’re screaming for me, dripping down my cock, and begging to come.”

“Jesus.” I hear Chase chuckle, but my entire focus is on my girl.

Her nails draw blood. Good, let her mark me, let her cut me up, and I’ll go out there proudly and show them whom I belong to.

“Guys, are you in there?” someone calls. “People are asking for a performance.”

“Hey, just having a band meeting.” I smirk down at Beck’s narrowed eyes as I cover her mouth with my hand and continue fucking her. “Shh, baby, before they burst in here and I have to stop.” I raise my voice once more. “We won’t be long.”

“Okay!”

I pull my hand away and pinch her clit, making her cry out. I’m sure they heard that, and she knows it, her eyes flaring in annoyance.

A wicked idea fills me. I want them to hear her scream. I want them to know that she’s mine. I want them all to know what’s going on here. Beck Danvers isn’t just a Dead Ringer, but our heart.

I lean back until we sit up, and her gasp makes me smirk. I climb to my feet, holding her with one hand on her ass and the other on her back like she weighs nothing. Then, with sure steps, I head over to the door and slam her against it. The bang is loud, no doubt drawing eyes, even over the music.

I grab her hands and press them to the wood above her head, holding them there as I continue to fuck her.

“Scream my name, baby. Let them all hear,” I demand as I slip my hand between our bodies and rub her clit as I fuck her. I feel her drip around me as she arches closer. “Let them all hear that this pussy belongs to me right now.”

“Kolt,” she begs, her voice loud but not loud enough.

I pinch her clit again, and the scream she lets out has me smirking. “Again,” I demand, rubbing and pinching her clit as I fuck her. Each thrust bangs against the door. The notion that they are all listening makes me hotter as I hammer into her until she chants my name, getting louder and louder.

I feel the exact moment she goes over the edge, her cunt clenching tightly on my cock like a vice, and then she screams my name. “Kolton!”

I kiss her lips in reward. “That’s me, baby, and I’m all yours,” I vow as I take her sweet cunt until I follow her over the cliff, hollering my release as I fill her with it.

Both of us are locked in pleasure. My balls are empty, but I still can’t seem to stop thrusting into her fluttering pussy. Groaning, I lean into her when my legs would have given out.

Kissing her softly, I smile even as she huffs. “Possessive asshole,” she teases.

“You know it,” I murmur against her lips. “You would be too if you had someone like you as your girlfriend. I want to show you off to the world, baby.”

“Softie,” she whispers, but she kisses me.

“For you,” I reply. “Always for you.”

Beck Danvers will never want for a thing, not when I’m around.

FIFTY-ONE

Ihave to fix my makeup and clothes. I still look freshly fucked, but there’s nothing I can do to change that. If anyone was close enough and listening, then there is no doubt they know what we were doing here. We weren’t quiet, but I can’t seem to care.

My legs are still weak, and my ass and pussy ache something fierce, but I don’t care as I follow them out into the party. A cheer goes up when they see us, and my cheeks heat, so I head to the bar, downing a shot before being dragged onto the dance floor.

We spend hours dancing and playing. No one seems to care about what we did, and I finally relax. They introduce me to so many people, I lose track of names and faces. It’s a lot, and when I finally slump onto the sofa, needing a moment, they sit around me, relaxing as we sip on our beers.

I don’t even notice Trav get up, too busy laughing at Kolton, until I feel eyes on me and turn. “Trav.” I grin, ready to tell him what we were just saying, when I see the woman on his arm.

Not just any woman, Reign fucking Harrow.

I’m not dumb. I know he went to meet her that night I couldn’t find him. I even know they used to fuck. Chase told me ages ago. I never brought it up because let’s face it, I had my own secrets, but now with everything out in the open and us being together, seeing him touching her fills me with a bitter feeling I hate.

She’s beautiful. Reign Harrow always has been, and tonight is no different. Her hair is curled at the bottom, and one side is braided back to show a tattooed, pierced ear. Her makeup is artful but grungy, and her plump lips shine with gloss. She’s smaller than me, curvier too, and she’s wearing a translucent dress that makes me feel very insecure for a moment. She’s fucking stunning, and from the way she stands, she knows it. I stare before looking away. There are four men gathered behind her, but I don’t spare them another look, my eyes dropping to her hand on his arm. “And Reign Harrow, Trav’s booty call, I mean friend.” Shit, mortification fills me at that slip-up.

Fuck, fuck, I blame the alcohol heating my system for that.

Any other time, I would be overjoyed. Reign Harrow was always on repeat on my playlists—hell, she still is. Nobody in this world has a voice like hers, not to mention I always liked the way she handled shit. She’s a boss, and I just insulted her.

Fuck.

Luckily, she just laughs, a natural, happy sound, and her eyes sparkle with amusement as I wait for the ax to fall. I feel Trav watching me, no doubt worried and annoyed since he never told me explicitly about them hooking up. I’ll get it later, that’s for sure. “Not a booty call anymore,” she replies kindly. “Just friends. You are the infamous Beck. It’s nice to finally meet you, and I’m glad you fuckers got rid of that snooty bitch before. She was a good singer but a horrible person.”

“So I’ve heard.” I wince at the mention of my sister, not wanting to admit the truth, but knowing Reign didn’t like my sister? Yeah, it hurts. “I’m sorry. I didn’t⁠—”

I start, needing to apologize. I don’t want her as an enemy, plus Trav seems friendly with her. I don’t want to be the petty, jealous girlfriend.

“It’s fine,” she promises softly, squeezing Trav’s arm and letting go with a pointed look at me. “How about we get a drink?”

I blink at the offer but nod, glancing at Chase, Kolton, and Trav, who sit down, but they wave me on. Chase gives me a wink. Brilliant. Blowing out a breath, I head her way, feeling nervous. She moves to the bar, and I follow her, almost hanging my head. Shit, this is so fucked up. I stop next to her, and she watches me carefully.

“Look, let me be blunt.” I sigh, knowing where this is going. I need to apologize. I fucked up. “I hate cat fights and jealousy. I’m not the type. It wasn’t cool for me to call you a booty call. The guys love you. They say you’re the coolest and that you’re friends. I care about them and the band, so I think we should get along,” I tell her, hoping she will forgive me enough to accept the olive branch.

My jealousy isn’t grounded. Trav has a past just like I do. It was just seeing it flaunted before me that made me slip up, but that was messed up, and she seems nice. They are important to me, so I don’t want to fight with their friends.

She smiles brightly, and my heart skips at the look she gives me, as if my world revolves around her. Shit, no wonder she’s so famous. She has that look down. “I like that. I appreciate getting straight to the point. I hate word games and backstabbing. I’ve had enough to last a lifetime.” There’s something in her tone that makes me look at her harder.

She seems tired and drained.

It’s then I remember all the shit that went down before she came back—her friends sold her out, even her ex. I bet she hates backstabbing because so many have done that to her. She seems like the type to forgive time and time again, and it clearly didn’t do her any good. I remember the articles. She is just a woman who has been crucified over and over by people she trusted.

I can understand that, and I feel sorry for her. I can’t imagine what she had to go through. She’s the top of our game, and she’s the best, but pure talent isn’t enough. She’s all alone as a solo singer, so she doesn’t have the guys at her back, and her every move is scrutinized and picked apart. I’ve only seen snippets of that since I’ve been with the guys, and I can’t imagine living that life for years.

Part of me feels sorry for her, and part of me is angry on her behalf.

Shit, I like her.

“I saw. Want me to cut a bitch?” I offer, and when she laughs, I can’t help but smile. She’s just so fucking normal. I don’t know what I was expecting, maybe a stuck-up woman. Most rich people or people with talent like hers use it as a weapon. They know it, and they carry themselves a certain way, but if I didn’t know her name, she could be anyone I met at a normal bar. I like that.

“No wonder they like you.” She gives me a wide grin. “Look, yes, I’ve slept with Trav.”

I swallow back my jealousy, as irrational as it is. “That’s none of my business.” It really isn’t. What happened in the past is just that, his past, plus we haven’t gone public. I’m just their bandmate to her. “We are just friends, bandmates.”

“Sure.” She nods, a knowing twinkle in her eye. “But we haven’t hooked up in a long time. I called him when I was lonely and hurt, but we didn’t do anything. I promise. I’m in a happy relationship with someone else, just don’t spill that. I like my privacy now. So how about we start again? Hi, I’m Reign.” She sticks out her hand, grinning as I blink.

Knowing she’s in a relationship shouldn’t make me feel better, but it does, and I vow never to let anyone know what she told me. Her life is just that, hers, and I would hate for someone to spill my secrets, so as I stare into her friendly eyes, I promise to be a good friend to her.

She seems like she needs one, but I could also use a friend like that. Everyone could.

“Hi, I’m Beck.” I smile wider. “Nice to meet you. In fact, I even had your poster on my wall, so I’m kind of starstruck. I was worried about comparing⁠—”

“No comparison here,” she promises, squeezing my hand in a comforting way. “Talent is talent. The guys brought you on, and they are the best. They obviously see that in you, so I have no doubt you’re amazing.” She glances at the bustling party. “And this? This world takes some getting used to.”

“Tell me about it,” I grumble. Accepting a shot, I shoot it back and grab a beer. “Want to know a secret?” Something about Reign instantly puts me at ease. I can’t explain it. “When I auditioned, I was working at a restaurant. I was a nobody. This is a lot to get used to. Does it ever get easier?”

“No,” she whispers. “But you find people who make it worthwhile and learn how to use it for your best interests.”

“I know you always do. You make it look effortless,” I reply. She’s always been a queen despite everything they threw at her. “Even that Tucker fucker, want me to kill him?”

“Not today. Now, how about we go back over there, get really fucking drunk, and I tell you all the guys’ dirty secrets and embarrassing stories?”

Oh God, I love her, and suddenly, I’m jealous of Trav for fucking her.

“Sounds like a plan,” I retort. “Hey, Reign, thank you. This world is kind of lonely. I never know whom to trust,” I say, showing some of my hand.

“Trust me.” She shrugs. “I could use that kind of friend too, in all honesty.”

“Then we’re friends.” I nod, truly meaning it. “Now, who else should I be worried about?” She’ll know better than anyone, and it just might clue me into someone who could have hurt my sister. It didn’t occur to me until now, but these people here have the guys’ trust.

They would have had access to my sister.

It could be them.

She takes my hand, and we stroll through the party as she starts to point people out, and I take careful note of each and every one, just in case.

Reign Harrow is my new bestie. She’s just so much fun, and despite her and Trav’s past, she treats him like nothing but a friend, almost as a brother, not to mention it’s pretty obvious she’s deeply in love with those four hotties around her.

She introduced them as Raffiel, Cillian, Astro, and Dal.

I’d be blind not to see the chemistry and secrets between them, not to mention the way they look at each other. It’s the same way I look at the guys. It seems Reign Harrow and I have something else in common. It eases all my worries, and I find myself drinking with her, forgetting my plan to keep my eye on the partygoers as I enjoy myself.

We trade stories and play drinking games, and when she stumbles back on Astros’ arm, I have a great idea. We have to perform tonight anyway, and it would be a dream to sing with her. I’ve always admired her, and the guys said they want me to follow my dreams. What’s a better dream than singing with my teenage idol?

“There she is!” I call louder than I mean to thanks to the booze. “How about a duet? They want to hear one of our new songs.”

It’s all we have been asked all night, and the stage outside doesn’t help. We always planned to play, and I was hella nervous about that, but now with the liquor in my system, I don’t seem to care. There might be some of the biggest names at this party, but I’m a Dead Ringer, bitch.

“Oh no, you guys sing it. It’s your party,” she says, always so nice.

“Not a chance.” I don’t give her a chance to back out, knowing she would. Despite the spotlight she’s always in, she seems to hate it. I grab her hand. “You sang with them for ‘Dead to Me,’ right? Well, do that one! Please, Reign, it would be the best moment of my life.”

“You heard her, go on.” Raffiel smirks at her, love and desire shining in his eyes as he watches his girl.

“Yes, I like him. Let’s go!” I drag her outside to the stage where the guys are already setting up. We are buzzed but not too drunk to perform—or so I hope because that would be really embarrassing. I slide my guitar on, since Reign will be singing as well and this song needs a lot of chords. It’s one we have been practicing for fun, and the alcohol is giving me confidence I don’t always feel.

Stepping up to the mic, I clear my throat and give myself over to this.

I am Beck Danvers. I am a Dead Ringer.

This is my life, my dream, and nobody gets to take that from me.

Not tonight.

Tonight, I am a rock star.

FIFTY-TWO

Iam hammered, to the point where everything is hilarious. The sun is up, and when I spin around the kitchen, I realize the clock reads eight in the morning. The final guests just left, and the house is a mess, but I can’t stop dancing.

Tonight, I performed and became a Dead Ringer for real, and as the crowd applauded, I looked out at them and understood what my sister was talking about. Seeing all the faces congratulating us, happy for us, and feeling our music was unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

It was a high nothing can ever compare to, and I know I made the right decision.

I want to be a singer. More than that, I want to be their singer.

I want this life—not just the fame, but the singing, performing, and touring. I want every messy, dirty part that means I get to be a rock star. I want to help them achieve highs they have dreamed of. I want to be at their side as we sing to thousands of fans.

I want to be a Dead Ringer until the end.

Despite everything going on, despite my sister, I know I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. Maybe that’s why she left me the tapes. Maybe she always knew I would end up here. Maybe she was giving me the dream I had given up on. It’s both a sad and happy thought, and I grin when arms wrap around me.

A hum reaches my ears. Kolt dances with me, both of us still really drunk. Trav is passed out on the kitchen counter, snoring away with glitter all over his chest, and when Chase sneaks up and starts to draw on him with Sharpie, I can’t help but laugh. He holds it out to me with a wink after drawing a dick on his forehead, and I take it and lean over Trav. Biting my lip to stop myself from giggling, I doodle on his chest, drawing little hearts and stars before signing my name with an X. Trav snorts and rolls over, and we leap back, watching as he rolls right off the counter.

He yelps and sits upright, his eyes bright. “What happened?”

We all descend into giggles.

Hangovers suck. I swear the older I get, the worse they are. We all climbed into bed early this morning and slept until late afternoon, but when I wake, my skin is sticky, my body is overheating, my stomach rolls, and my head pounds. I want to die.

I drag my ass from bed, pop some pain pills, and down copious amounts of water before drowning myself in the shower. My ass and pussy are still sore, so I take careful care while washing them, and when I dry off, I massage lotion on them before slipping on a shirt and heading downstairs.

Chase is there, sipping coffee and looking just as bad as I feel. This is the first time I have ever seen Chase Reed look anything less than perfection. “Coffee,” I grumble.

“Mine,” he hisses, holding it tighter. “I love you, pretty girl, but get your own.”

I gape at him. He seems too tired to notice or care about what he said, and I shake it off. He’s just hungover and hurting. He didn’t mean it. Not at all. That’s what I tell myself, anyway, as I pour myself one and collapse into a chair.

“The house is clean,” I comment idly.

“Smart girl,” he mutters.

“Chase, how is the house clean?”

“Cleaners came in while we slept,” he explains.

Shit, how hard did I sleep? Sipping my coffee, I watch him, wondering if he meant it. Surely not. Chase Reed doesn’t love me. I know he said it before, but it was while he was angry and drunk so it doesn’t count.

“We have today off, right?” I ask, trying to distract myself.

“Yup, then we have back-to-back rehearsals and final fittings over the next two weeks before we leave for the first city. Buckle up, buttercup, it’s about to get crazy.”

“Wait, get crazy? Hasn’t this been crazy?” I gape.

“Oh, my sweet, innocent girl.” He sighs. “You have no idea.”

I gulp.

FIFTY-THREE

Apparently, I can’t handle my hangovers like I thought, so instead, the guys and I just lounge around and relax on what is sure to be one of the last days off we get for another six months, which is scary to think about.

I went from wanting to be gone before tour to looking forward to performing in it. It’s terrifying, but exciting.

The next day, I get up early, determined to be productive, which works out well because as I’m sipping my coffee, there’s a knock at the door. I know only management and stylists come to the house, so I hurry to answer it. I wasn’t aware of anyone coming over, but that doesn’t mean anything since I don’t check the schedule.

Opening the door, I’m greeted by a friendly-looking woman. She’s unfamiliar, but she has garment bags thrown over her shoulder and a huge, rolling suitcase at her side. Her hair is a frizzy brown and her eyes are smoked out, with a slightly smeared red lip. She is tall as hell and skinny, and I suddenly feel very underdressed in my stolen sweatpants and sports bra compared to her blazer, slacks, and heels combo.

“Beck?” she asks, her voice sweet.

I nod mutely.

“Hi, I’m Cara. I’m the one who confirms the final fits of your tour outfits.” She waits as I blink and step back.

“Oh, sure.” I wave her in.

“Amazing, I’ll set up in the living room. Are the guys around?” she asks, keenly sweeping her gaze around the space.

“No, they are still in bed,” I reply.

“No worries, I’m here for you anyway, so it’s better if there are no interruptions. Go wash, and I’ll be ready when you are.” Her smile is sugary sweet.

“Oh, I showered,” I tell her, blinking in confusion.

Her eyes run over my body once more before she smiles brighter. “Of course, then whenever you are ready.”

I blink as she saunters into the living room. That definitely felt like a slight, but who can tell anymore? Downing my coffee, I drop the mug in the kitchen and head to the living room, shutting the door behind me and sitting as I wait.

She’s hanging all the bags up, and the suitcase is open on the floor, revealing shoes, hair accessories, pins, measuring tapes, and sewing kits. She moves around, completely ignoring me, which suits me just fine.

I wait patiently until she turns with a nod. “Why aren’t you undressed?” She frowns.

“Um, because I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes and you didn’t tell me to?” I counter, frowning at the attitude lacing her tone. Maybe that’s just how she speaks. “I’ll do it now.”

I quickly strip down to my bra and panties. They aren’t fancy, but I don’t think they deserve the look of derision she gives me when she sees them. For a moment, I feel self-conscious, wanting to wrap my arms around myself, before I force myself to tilt my chin up and meet her eyes.

I don’t spit the verbal fight I want to, and instead, I wait for her to sigh and continue. “Okay, well, come here then. Let’s try on the first outfit. We don’t have all day.”

Biting my tongue until I taste blood, I head over.

She turns, unzips a bag, and pulls out the first dress, handing it to me. “Quickly,” she snaps, and it takes everything I have in me not to tell her to go fuck herself, especially before my second cup of coffee, but I take the dress and slip it on. She watches me struggle as I shimmy it down my body, and her lips curl.

Once it’s settled, she walks around me, tapping her chin like some sort of serial killer eyeing up their next victim. “I don’t know if it’s too tight or if you put on weight,” she remarks as she stops before me.

I blink. “I don’t think so.”

“No?” She arches a brow. “Have you been eating healthy?”

“Is that any of your business?” I snap.

“It is when you don’t fit in your clothes,” she hisses.

I look down, not seeing what she does. “It looks the exact same,” I mutter.

“To your untrained eye,” she scoffs. “Fine, next.” She whirls around, and I pull the dress up. I debate throwing it at her, but I resist and carefully lay it on the sofa while I wait.

She grabs the next one, which I put on, and eyes me again. “I don’t like how it shows that scar.”

“The scar stays,” I reply, leaving no room for argument.

“Fine, but you look unrefined and cheap, like you just climbed out of a trailer park, not to mention it showcases your stretch marks,” she retorts so brazenly, I gape at her.

“What is your fucking problem?” I demand. “You are here to dress me, and yet you are insulting my weight, my personal hygiene, and now my body, which by the way, stretch marks are fucking normal.”

“Not for a rock star.” She eyes me with disdain. “Which you are clearly not.”

“Listen here.” I step closer, lowering my voice. “Dress me silently, get what you need, and go, or you can get the fuck out now with a black eye. Take your pick and make the right decision because I do not need a snotty, judgmental bitch trying to ruin my day.”

“You can’t touch me. I’m employed by the label, and you are on thin ice, jail bird,” she sneers, looking me over. “I do not know what they see in you. Now, you might think you’re a big deal since you’re here and are making the most of it.” She presses her hand into a finger mark on my thigh with a knowing grin. “But make no mistake, you are replaceable. You are nothing. Now, next outfit.”

Gritting my teeth because I hate that she is right, I let her dress me. If she tells the label I was trouble, then they will get rid of me. I’m on thin ice after being arrested. They don’t need more trouble, and this woman could easily paint me as a diva, even if she’s being a bitch. They might need me for this tour, but I have no doubt that if I cause too much trouble, I will be gone faster than I can say I’m sorry.

I bite my tongue the entire time as she paints my skin with her derision and negative comments. She has something to say about everything, from my weight to my sex life. I take it all as she tries to tear me down. I swallow it, and when she packs up, she glances back at me.

“See you next time, Beck,” she sneers, and then she’s gone.

I’m left in my underwear, since she wouldn’t even let me dress, and I wrap my arms around myself, feeling dirty and weak. Tears fill my eyes as I wonder if this is what my sister went through.

“Beck?” The soft, feminine voice has me whirling. I swallow back my emotions as I meet Rachel’s worried gaze. I didn’t even hear her come in, but she frowns, shutting the door. “Are you okay?” she asks.

I nod, hurrying to my clothes and quickly dressing, but I feel dirty, like I need to wash those words away.

“Hey, Beck.” She catches my arms softly. “I’m on your side. I mean it. Are you okay?” The concern in her voice is real, and despite the situation on the red carpet, she looks genuinely worried. “I know we didn’t get off on the right foot, but this band is my life, and you are part of that now.”

I try to blink back my pain. “The lady who came today, is she the usual?”

Frowning harder, she watches me carefully. “No, she’s a new hire, why? What happened?”

I open my mouth before closing it again, debating if I should tell her. Not only is it my word against that evil woman’s, but I’d be causing yet more trouble, and despite Rachel’s niceness and the guys’ trust in her, I don’t know if I can trust her.

I don’t want to be weak, especially in front of her.

“Oh, nothing, was just curious.” I force a smile.

“Are you sure?” she asks. “I can go speak to her⁠—”

“No!” I say too abruptly. “No, everything is fine. Sorry, it was just a long night,” I offer weakly. “I’m going to shower. We have a meeting soon, right? About the tour?”

She nods, watching me carefully. “If you’re sure, we’ll meet in the kitchen. I brought breakfast and coffee.”

“Thanks.” I hurry away, needing some space.

After showering and scrubbing my skin, I find myself in oversized comfy clothes in an effort to stave off the worries and disgusting feelings I still have. I’m proud of my body. Yes, I have a few extra curves, marks, and scars, but I never wanted to be perfect.

Just me.

I hate that she put those doubts there.

Heading into the kitchen, I grab the last seat, sitting cross-legged. Chase smiles at me and pushes over a plate that has a mixture of pastries on it. Trav hands me a takeout coffee and kisses my cheek, while Kolton’s hand lands on my thigh under the table. It’s clear they just woke up and are completely oblivious, so I force a smile and stuff my face to avoid having to speak.

Rachel watches us with suspicion, so I sit up taller, pushing Kolton’s hand away, and focus on the meeting. “So the tour . . .”

“Yes.” She smiles. “Let’s run through the dates and schedule—” I tune her out. I nod every now and again and make noises, but I feel sick.

Something comes to my mind.

What if this is how it started for my sister? What if it wasn’t one person, but lots of little things that pushed her over the edge? I never considered the knives that would come for me simply for being in the position I am.

What if there isn’t someone I can get revenge on?

What if it was just this life?

After the meeting, in which I did not hear a single fucking thing Rachel said, I escape into my room, lying on my bed. We need to rehearse soon, but I need some space. I feel like my world is shifting on its axis. I know if I told the guys what happened, they would demand her head, but that won’t solve anything, and it will only make me look weaker.

I’m lost and don’t know what to do. Right now, I feel so very alone and confused. I feel like the fake I am, just a country girl playing rock star until they don’t need me anymore. My door creaks open. I don’t bother looking up, but the bed dips, and a body flops across mine. I smile despite myself, peering down at Trav’s grinning face.

“Regretting being a rock star yet?” he teases.

“No.” I reach down, stroking his hair. “Just a lot on my mind.”

“I know. You were really quiet. That’s why I thought I would check on you. Do you need space, or do you want to talk about it?” he asks softly, and that melts my heart. Despite his concern, he would leave me alone to deal with it rather than pushing for answers.

“I just want to forget about it,” I admit, forcing a smile. “You ready to rehearse?”

He eyes me for a moment, seeing right through my mask. “Look, I should have spoken to you about this before.” I stiffen, wondering where he’s going. “Me and Reign. I know it upset you the other night at the party, but you have to know there is nothing there anymore. Yes, we hooked up in the past, but only because it wasn’t complicated. Neither of us ever wanted more from each other. It was like scratching an itch⁠—”

“Trav.” I smile.

“I mean it. She’s just a friend, a very good friend, but if it makes you uncomfortable⁠—”

I try again. “Trav.”

“I only went that night to try and stop myself from making a move on you. I know I wasn’t allowed to, and it was killing me, so I thought if I could get you out of my mind, I could be your friend. It was stupid. I knew it was the moment I stepped into that room, and it went no further. In fact, we spoke about you that night instead, about how I was obsessed with you⁠—”

“Trav,” I interrupt, kissing him to silence him. “You sweet, silly man. It’s fine. You don’t owe me anything about your past, just like I don’t owe you anything about mine. Yes, I was jealous for a moment, but that’s for me to deal with, not you. All that matters is now. You’re in my bed, at my side. I’m tired of looking backwards, so how about we just look forwards?”

“You’re sure?” he asks, searching my gaze.

“I’m sure. Besides, I like Reign. She’s cool as hell. I get it.” I wink. “We are all that matters. Don’t you agree? Not who came before, just us now. They all molded you into this amazing man I love.”

“I love you,” he whispers as he kisses me. “From the moment I laid eyes on you. This is forever, Beck, no matter what. You have to know it’s never been like this. You have every broken edge of me. I’m not perfect, and I don’t pretend to be, but I’m all yours. Every flawed inch of me. The real me, not the one on stage but the one before you.”

“I know,” I murmur lovingly as I trace his face with my eyes. “You have me as well, for what it’s worth.”

“A whole fucking lot,” he growls, kissing me. “You are worth losing everything for, Beck, and the sooner you realize that, the better. If you asked me to give this all up, I would. I’d do anything just to be at your side. They call us rock gods, baby, but the truth is, you make us men. You make us nothing more than men in love. Without you, there is no music in my soul anymore, so when you’re struggling, I’ll be right here, even if you don’t want to talk. I’ll still stay right here, at your side, through it all. Remember that.”

“Thank you.” I kiss him softly before he deepens it, pushing me back to the bed.

“Yo, horny teenagers, the car is here for the rehearsal!” Chase calls, making us break apart with a laugh.

“Come on.” I take his hand, and we head downstairs.

FIFTY-FOUR

Beck is still quiet. It’s obvious something is troubling her, but I meant what I said. She can talk if she wants to, but if she doesn’t, that’s okay too. However, when we reach the rehearsal space, we all pretend to set up as she wanders around, stopping when she spots it.

Her mouth gapes open.

We stopped the Polaroid tradition after her sister because it made us too sad, so instead, we started a new one.

Above the sofas but below our band logo is a large photo of us. It was taken at the tour party the other night. Beck’s eyes are glazed, and her smile is bright. She looks so free and happy. She has her arm around Kolton and her legs across me. Chase is leaning over her, looking into the camera with a naughty grin. We all looked so happy in that when Reign sent it to me, I knew instantly what we should do with it.

“You’re forever Beck Danvers. You are eternal. You’re a Dead Ringer,” Chase says. “That just solidifies it.”

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers, turning to us with a watery smile. “You bastards.”

That makes us laugh as I head to the drums to prepare. She’s picking up our songs quickly, and we’ve worked on some new ones, but practice makes perfect, and with a huge tour coming up, the more we practice, the better we can be.

When Beck recovers, even though she can’t stop smiling, we dive into the set list, playing it over and over until my hands bleed and my back aches. Night has fallen, but we keep going, more determined than ever to make it.

BECK

The guys are packing up. It’s the middle of the night, and none of us can play or sing anymore, so we are heading home. While they pack, I collapse onto the sofa, scrolling through my phone.

Reign Harrow (Bae): Men are so annoying. Why do they leave their socks everywhere? And there are never two!

Chuckling, I thumb out a response.

Beck: Because they are idiots. I always find Chase’s underwear everywhere. The man has too many pairs to say he goes commando.

Reign Harrow (Bae): Ew, too much information. Anyway, get back to rehearsing, mega star!

Beck: Get back to matching pairs of men’s socks. #howthemightyhavefallen

Reign Harrow (Bae): FU.

I laugh at the emoji she sends back, then I answer some Instagram messages and comments before snapping a tired selfie with the new portrait in the background and uploading it. The likes roll in, but I shut off Instagram and flop back, closing my eyes as I wait for them to finish.

There’s a buzz, and I expect it to be a text from Reign, so I open it with a groan.

Unknown: If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave, or I’ll be forced to show the world exactly who you are.

Unknown: Two picture messages.

I open the pictures, my eyes widening in horror.

They are of me, naked. I’d taken them as a joke to send to Chase after he sent me a dick pic. I know because of the room I’m in. I don’t usually send them, but it was a joke for someone I trust. I look at him, my heart freezing, wondering how the hell someone got their hands on them.

I feel sick that someone has not only seen them but is trying to threaten me with them.

Unknown: Think about it, just don’t take too long.

“Beck, are you ready?”

I lock my phone and nod at Kolton, but I feel sick the whole way home.

FIFTY-FIVE

Istill feel sick the next day. I have no idea who could have gotten the pictures. I offhandedly asked Chase what he did with them, and he snorted and told me he wasn’t dumb and that he deleted them. I know he didn’t do this, so who did?

The doorbell rings, and I head over since I was pacing around. I barely see the delivery guy as I accept the flowers, signing for them before heading to the kitchen. We get them a lot, usually from the label, so I automatically put them in a vase, giving my hands something to do before the note catches my eye.

Opening the folded card, I frown.

Congratulations on your upcoming tour, Chase, Trav, and Kolt.

— Management

Either someone forgot my name or did it on purpose, and I’m not sure what’s pettier. It puts me in an even worse mood, and I grab my coat, needing fresh air and a friendly ear. I text Ben on the way, and this time, we meet at his apartment.

It’s in a nice neighborhood, but as he answers the black door with a gold number on it, I peer past him and into the tiny apartment. That’s city living for you. The living room is practically in the kitchen, and his office is a tiny second bedroom, but we sit at the sofas that face each other. He makes coffee for me, and once I hold the mug in my hand, he speaks.

“Okay, spill, Beck. You didn’t call me for no reason. What’s going on?” he asks carefully.

I don’t know why I chose to confess to Ben, but I know he’s on my side, and the fact that he knew my sister helps. It makes me feel better, like he understands and will know what to do.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to explain, but I feel like . . . I feel like someone is targeting me. There was this dresser, and she was super rude, like she was trying to destroy me, then flowers were delivered today from management and the card was missing my name, like I was left out on purpose to make me feel insignificant, and then there’s the other thing . . .”

“Other thing?” He frowns. “Tell me. I can’t help you if I don’t know, Beck.”

It’s the earnestness in his voice that has me sighing. “Someone got a hold of my nudes and is threatening to release them.”

He blinks for a moment. “How bad is it?”

“Fully naked,” I answer without shame. “I sent them to Chase. It wasn’t him, he showed me that he deleted them, but I don’t know how they got them.”

“Did he send them to anyone?” he asks slowly.

“No, not that I know of. Maybe it’s dumb, but I believe him. Chase isn’t the type.”

Ben nods. “I happen to agree. Is Chase’s phone backed up to the cloud?” Ben asks.

“Um, I don’t know,” I admit.

“If it’s a label phone and it’s backed up to the cloud, then anyone in management could have access to his photos,” Ben explains.

“Fuck,” I rasp out, downing my coffee. “So I’m screwed. It could be anyone.”

“Well, if they release them, then they will be in hot water, so it’s more likely they wanted to scare you.”

“Well, it worked,” I mutter.

“This is how it started for your sister, you know.” I blink at him, and he nods. “She mentioned some texts, some things making her uncomfortable, but she never told me enough for me to figure out who. It’s the exact same thing. It makes sense that whoever was doing it to her is doing it to you.”

“Fucking brilliant.”

“It is.” He grins. “It means we are getting closer.”

I nod, blowing out a breath. He’s right. “Okay, well, if she endured it, then so can I. Let them show themselves. They have to eventually. Thanks, Ben.”

“Of course, we’re a team,” he replies. “Let me know if anything else happens. In the meantime, ask Chase about the cloud and try to look around for who sent the flowers. It could be nothing, or it could lead us to someone.”

“You’re right.” I stand. “Thank you. I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Of course, that’s what I’m here for.”

I grab my coat and head for the door, blinking at the framed picture on the table I didn’t see on the way in. I smile as I pick it up. “When was this taken?” I ask him as I stroke my sister’s face. She’s half turned away, like he caught her when she was distracted, and there’s traffic behind her, but she’s beautiful.

“Oh, when we were out on a walk. She hated having her picture taken at the end, but some part of me knew I needed them,” he tells me.

Nodding, I carefully set it back down. “Thanks, Ben. I’ll keep looking. Let me know if you have anything.”

“Will do,” he replies.

Outside his apartment building, I hail a cab, and rather than going home, I head straight to the rehearsal space. The guys won’t be there for a couple of hours, but I can practice the parts of the chorus for the new song that’s troubling me.

I can lose myself in the music.

It doesn’t take long to get there, and I know the code to get in. I lock the doors behind me just in case since I’ve never really been here alone, and then I shed my jacket once more. Cranking up the speaker, I grab my guitar and stand before the mic.

I close my eyes and imagine the guys around me, playing their parts, and join in with my guitar, the chords familiar. I only make two mistakes, and each time, I restart before finally adding my voice. I need to get this down quickly, so I keep going over it.

Clapping jerks me from the trance I’m in. The guys are in the doorway, and I have no idea how long they have been standing there. I wince. “Heard me demolishing the new song?”

“Demolishing? Pretty girl, you were perfection.” Chase winks as he heads over. “Let’s practice it together. We have three new ones to get right before next week, but with your voice, we are going to blow everyone away.”

I blow out a nervous breath and nod as Kolton and Trav get ready on their instruments. I’ve been taking lessons with a vocal coach on projecting and perfecting my tone, not to mention a choreographer for stage presence, but even with all that training, I still don’t feel prepared for what’s coming, especially now that I know I will actually be on tour as a rock star.

That idea is fucking terrifying.

The guys obviously sense my unease, so we run through it over and over until I’m relaxed and hitting the notes I need to, and then I start to get into it. I don’t think anyone can ever be too prepared, and no matter what, I know I’ll still be shitting myself on the first stage, which is normal—or so they tell me at least.

“Let’s take a break,” Kolt calls. “We’ve been at it for hours. Let’s have a drink and take five to relax.”

“Sounds good,” I reply gratefully. My throat aches. I’ve gotten better at keeping my voice warm and safe, but it’s still a lot to hit all the high notes without hurting myself, and I have to be careful. I can manage the full set, but I don’t know how I’m going to manage the full tour. The guys have faith, but me, not so much.

I head over where Trav is already making me herbal honey tea, and I accept it gratefully. Chase’s eyes darken as I sip it, and my own narrow. “I know that look. Whatever you’re thinking, no.”

“What look?” he murmurs sweetly, even as he steps sideways.

“The I have a bad idea look,” I reply, watching him.

“Me? Bad ideas? Never.” He winks.

“Um, what about the time you convinced us to break into the Eiffel Tower restaurant?” Kolton asks with a pointed look.

“Or the time you convinced us to get drunk on the flight to that interview and we threw up everywhere on the show?” Trav asks.

“Or the time you convinced me to run down the street in glitter?” Kolt carries on.

“What did you guys get up to before I arrived?” I ask with wide eyes.

They share a look and then nod as they turn to me. “We will never tell.”

“Probably for the best. Glitter, huh?” I wink at Kolton as he blushes.

“Only on the important parts, like nipples and balls.”

“Of course, God forbid it got anywhere else.” I chuckle as something warm slides down my arm. I flinch away, turning to see an innocent-looking Chase blinking at me. Looking down, I frown at the honey running down my arm, and before I can say anything, he leans down and licks up the sweetness.

“Mmm,” he hums. “So sweet. Go lie down, pretty girl, and let me taste this on your cunt.”

“Chase,” I snap. “Dude, that’s so sticky.”

He winks as he presses against me, tipping my chin up with the bottle. “We all know you like to get sticky, baby, especially with our cocks. We’re on break anyway, so what better way to relax than with my mouth buried in your cunt, licking all that sweetness up?”

I shudder at his dark voice, staring into his burning eyes as lust ignites inside me. I lick my lips, tasting the honey from the tea. He follows the movement and groans.

“Say yes, pretty girl. Let me play with you.” I hesitate, and he leans closer. “Play with me. Being bad is so good,” he promises.

Running my tongue along my teeth, I look at Kolton and Trav. Their eyes have darkened with hunger, and I know I’m not getting out of here unscathed. I wouldn’t want to anyway. Grabbing the honey, I squeeze some out onto my finger and back away as I rub it over my lips.

“Then come and get me. Let’s play,” I murmur as I hit the sofa and sit down.

He pounces on me so fast, I laugh, but it soon turns to a moan. His big hand grips my hair, pulling my head back to the sofa cushion as his lips meet mine in a frenzy. Honey slides between our lips as our tongues tangle in a wild kiss that leaves me panting as he pulls away.

With a wicked grin, he drips the honey down my chest, and as I gasp, he leans down and licks it clean before pushing my dress up, exposing my thighs and pussy.

Kneeling before me, he tears my thong free and lifts the bottle. I stare, anticipation and desire swirling through me, as he squeezes, letting it drip down my cunt. The cool liquid creates a stark contrast to my hot core, and then his mouth is there, tasting every inch of me as I groan. My hand slides down and grabs his head.

“Fuck, pretty girl. Peaches and honey, who fucking knew?” His tongue traces over my sticky cunt.

He lifts his head for a moment and squeezes honey onto his fingers, and before I can protest, he circles my hole before placing his mouth there. His tongue follows the same path, leaving me quivering and shaking in need as he plays with me.

“Chase,” I whimper, even as my eyes clash with Kolton’s and Trav’s, who watch me with matching grins on their lips. Bastards.

Chase groans and drips more across my pussy before his fingers slide inside me. His tongue lashes my clit until I lift off the sofa, desire pounding through me. I need to come so badly, I’m shaking with it.

He eats me so completely, no place is left untouched, and the sensation of the honey sliding across my heated cunt is too much. I can’t take it, but he doesn’t stop. His fingers pump inside me as he licks up the sticky goodness mixing with my cream before adding more.

Chase tosses the honey away, grabs my hips, and lifts me from the sofa as he devours my cunt with his mouth and fingers. My head falls back when I’m unable to take any more. I ride his mouth, rolling my hips and taking his fingers deeper. Those pretty lips wrap around my clit and I’m lost.

I cry out as I come all over his face.

He licks me through it, shallowly fucking me with his fingers until I slump, and then he sits back, his face glistening with honey and cum. “So sweet, pretty girl.”

Fucking hell, I’m never going to be able to eat honey the same way again.

Shaking my head, I slide my dress down, even as my eyes land on the honey bottle.

If he wants to play, then let’s play.

I stand, and he stumbles to his feet. “Beck,” he warns, no doubt reading the intention in my eyes.

Grabbing the bottle, I squeeze some on my hand and slide it into his jeans, gripping his cock as he gasps. I watch his eyes shut as I stroke him, and then I pull my hand free. His eyes snap open, and I lick my palm as he watches, then I drop to my knees.

His lashes flutter, concealing his gaze for a moment. His lips part on a moan as I unbuckle his jeans and shove them down, freeing his hard, glistening cock. It bounces and I grip it with a hungry groan, and then I lean in and lick his cock just like he did my cunt.

Humming, I lean back and lick my lips. “Sweet and salty.”

“Jesus,” he mutters, widening his legs so he doesn’t fall as I lick a line up and down his cock again, tonguing the mushroom head. The mixture of honey and precum makes me hum in pleasure.

“Fuck, pretty girl, please,” he begs.

“Please what?” I murmur, rubbing my face along his length as he watches, feeling it jump in my grip.

“Please suck me. Come on, pretty girl, don’t tease me,” he pleads.

“Why not? You love to tease me.” I blow over his cock, watching him jerk, and then I suck on the head of his cock until his hips stutter. Chuckling, I sit back and watch his face darken in frustration. “You said you wanted to play and that being bad was good.” I flutter my lashes, and then I whisper the next words along his skin. “You were right.”

I put him out of his misery before he throws me down and fucks my mouth, tightening my fist around his length. I slide my hand down to his base and suck him into my mouth, hollowing my cheeks. I watch his eyes slide shut, his jaw going slack, and when I pull back, his Adam’s apple bobs.

I love the reaction this man has to me.

My legs widen as I settle in and bob on his cock, sucking him slow and dirty. I let the honey and precum drip down my chin as he rolls his hips with shallow thrusts, chasing pleasure.

It’s so hot watching him fall apart for me that I speed up, sucking harder and letting him use my mouth. His head falls forward, his dark eyes meeting mine.

“Pretty girl,” he warns breathlessly.

I hum in acknowledgement, knowing he’s close, and when he grips my hair and takes over, I let him drive into my mouth with hard, quick thrusts until he groans. Cum spills down my throat, and I swallow it all, and when I pull back, licking my lips, he drops to his knees.

Grabbing my cheeks, he kisses me. “Always winning against me at my own games, aren’t you?”

“You love it,” I respond as I lean back.

“I do.” He flops to the side, his arm over his face. “Fucking honey.”

Laughing, I look up and find Trav and Kolton still watching us.

I struggle to my feet, my knees aching.

I don’t want Trav and Kolton to be left out, so I head their way. I stop at Trav first, and when he tries to back away, I pin him to the wall and squirt honey on him.

“Beck!” he yells, but it ends in a laugh as I lick it off his chest, arms, and cheek before kissing him, and then I turn to Kolton.

His eyes are narrowed, and he stands with the sofa between us. “Beck,” he says, but I jump over the sofa, tackle him to the floor, and lift the bottle as I grin down at him. “No, no, please,” he begs, laughing as he does.

“Too late.” I giggle as I squeeze the last bit of honey out of the bottle, watching it drip down his face as he groans. I lean down and lick it all away before kissing him and sitting back with a happy, wide grin. “Now we are all sticky.”

By the time we get back to rehearsal, we all are sticky and in desperate need of showers, but none of us can stop grinning.

I guess Chase was right. Sometimes being bad feels oh so good.

FIFTY-SIX

Last night was wild. I don’t know what got into Beck or Reign, but they dragged us to a party and got absolutely hammered. She has disappeared upstairs—Reign, not our girl, who was too busy grinding on my dick and driving me insane to notice. I didn’t notice much, but when Beck disappeared later and came back with a crying Reign, it was clear it was time to go home.

I don’t know what happened, and truthfully, I don’t care. Reign is a big girl, and she can look after herself. I’ve never met anyone as strong as her, so I helped my girl get her home and into bed. It wasn’t nice seeing her upset, but like me, Reign is tight-lipped about her personal life. She doesn’t want to talk about it, and I respect that. I offered to let her crash at our place, but she wanted to go home. We left her water and pain pills, and then I took my girl home to rest as well.

“We are going shopping.” That’s what she said. I didn’t expect to be at Home Depot, looking at shovels.

“Um, pretty girl?” I ask, slightly worried she’s planning on killing us and burying our bodies. I mean, I’d let her, but I’d hope it wouldn’t be with a shovel. Something more dramatic would be good. Tugging my cap down to avoid prying eyes, I move closer to her. Kolton is watching her worriedly, while Trav helps her pick out the best shovel without even knowing what it’s for.

“That one has a better grip,” I point out lazily. “If you are planning on killing us, can I at least get a last shot at your cunt?”

She sighs, pointing the shovel at me. “This isn’t funny. We are killing someone.”

I nod. “Who?”

She gapes. “That’s it? No questions? Just who?”

I shrug, picking up my own shovel and testing it. “I’m with you, pretty girl, so if you say we are killing someone, then I’m asking what car we’re going in and if I need to bring snacks.” She just stares, so I elaborate. “You get cranky without snacks, and I don’t think feeding you my cock at a murder site is a good idea.”

Kolton nods. “I did find her googling how to kill someone.”

“It’s for Reign,” she admits with a sigh. “Then she reminded me that we watched that Santa Clarita show with shovels and plastic boxes.” She nods like that makes sense.

“Wait, who are we killing for Reign? I have to be honest, babe, she’s probably already killing them herself.”

“Nope, she’s too nice,” she mutters.

“Reign Harrow is . . . nice?” I share a look with Trav. “She’s many things, pretty girl, but nice isn’t one of them. Ambitious, crazy, talented, a good friend, but never really nice.”

“She’s nice, and she needs to be protected,” she snaps, her eyes slightly mad, and I soften, realizing she’s worried that what happened to her sister will happen to Reign.

“Okay, so we are killing someone.” I roll my sleeves up. “I’m in.”

I don’t want to ever see my girl upset like that again.

She pulls out her phone, texting as we wait. “What about chainsaws?” I ask. “It’s messier but probably easier.”

She nods and grabs my hand, and then we are looking at chainsaws on a Sunday morning. The shit I do for my girl.

“Reign says no.” She frowns, pouting.

“Aww, pretty girl.” I tug her to my side. “Want me to find someone else for you to murder? Would that make you happy?”

“I don’t think I would do well in prison,” Kolton remarks.

“You would be someone’s bitch.” I nod. “I mean, you’re already Beck’s bitch.”

“I should get you a shirt with that on it,” Trav adds.

Beck sighs. “Fine, no murder today, how boring. What’s something else we can do that’s fun?”

“You want a thrill, pretty girl?” I back her into the display, placing my hands on either side of her head as I lean in, dropping my eyes to her lips and getting distracted as I remember the way they felt wrapped around my cock last night. I get hard just like always when I’m with her.

It’s really fucking annoying to walk around with a hard-on this big. She should come with her own warning label.

“That’s not your penis,” she grumbles, trying to push me away, but her hands end up sliding down my chest as I grin. “It’s not fair that you’re so pretty. It’s distracting.”

“Sorry, pretty girl.” I go to kiss her when there’s a cough. We both turn to see Trav wincing.

“Sorry, people,” he reminds us sadly.

Sighing, I kiss her cheek near her lips. “Later, I’m going to kiss you all over,” I promise as I step back. “But for something exciting, I have an idea. Do you trust me?” I hold out my hand.

“Oh God, this is how all his bad ideas start.” Kolton groans as I smile.

She smiles back at me and lays her hand in mine. “I do. Let’s go do bad things.” My grin grows, and she sighs. “Not to each other, that’s after.”

“That’s my girl.”

BECK

“A tattoo?” I stare up at the sign. The shop looks closed, but Chase is tugging me toward it.

“You’re covered in them, babe, so what’s one more?” He grips my chin. “Besides, I want my brand on you, our brand. You’re a Dead Ringer, a rock star, so you should have the symbol.” His lips drag over mine. “The idea of you wearing a matching Dead Ringer tattoo?” He grinds against me. “It turns me the fuck on, knowing it will be on your skin forever, marking you as ours.”

“Or more likely marking you as mine,” I retort, nipping his lip. “Fine, but it’s closed.”

Just then, the door opens. “Chase,” a big, burly man calls. “I’m all set up.”

Chase winks at me and tugs me inside. “Reg, this is Beck.”

“Hey, Beck, love the ink.” He nods. “I’ll just finish printing the design, and we can get going.”

“Uh-huh, so just me.” I prop my hands on my hips as Reg disappears into the back of the shop. It’s a very nice shop, don’t get me wrong. The walls are a deep black with gold accents everywhere, and there’s graffiti style artwork on the walls, deep leather sofas, and pounding music in the background.

It’s not like I don’t have tattoos. I covered myself in them when I became Beck, but the only one I had a choice in was the bridge on my arm for my sister. The others were just because they were pretty, and maybe because I became a little addicted to the feeling.

“Nope, we’ll all get one. It’s about time we did anyway.” Chase nods, tugging off his shirt, and my mouth goes dry at his tan abs. “Eyes up here, pretty girl.” He smirks. “If you keep looking at me like you want to lick me, it’s going to be a very hard, uncomfortable tattoo.”

“Not my fault.” I sigh. “So a band tattoo?”

“A band tattoo.” He grins. “You like?”

I do actually, not that I’ll ever let him know. It’s a good idea. A matching tattoo with the guys? Some would say it’s too soon, but honestly, I don’t fucking care. We are bandmates, roommates, and we are together. I can’t reach for them in public because of the eyes and cameras on us, but knowing we are still linked by the symbol on our bodies?

He’s right. It’s hot as fuck.

“Where are you going to get yours, baby?” Trav asks as he turns, searching his arms for a spot before tugging off his shirt. Jesus fucking Christ, I actually start to sweat, especially when Kolton takes his off as well.

This shit isn’t fair, and judging by the twinkle in their eyes, they know it.

Well, two can play at that game.

Grabbing my band tee, I tug it over my head, leaving me in nothing but a snake-print mesh bralette. I watch them gulp as I drag my hand down my chest and under my breasts. “Maybe here?” I ask innocently.

Kolton nods. “Definitely there.”

Trav elbows him. “Which means she will have to get naked.”

“Oh.” Kolton is clearly fighting his instincts. “Shit, I’m both turned on and jealous.”

“Tell me about it.”

Reg comes back and blinks at us. “Wait, do I have to take my shirt off too?” He grins.

“Yes.” I smirk as Kolton, Trav, and Chase all shout, “No!” and Trav even covers my eyes.

“What? He has the whole bicycle gang daddy vibe going on,” I mutter.

“I’m taking your books away,” Trav threatens.

“Why? You like them too.” I pull his hand down, grinning at Reg. “It’s a good thing to be a daddy. I could be your little girl.”

Trav grabs me and pushes me behind him. “No, you can’t.”

Reg laughs. “Sorry, love, already got my own crazy hellcat, and I have a feeling you belong to someone else. Now, who’s first?”

The guys relax a little, at least until I point at my sternum. Reg nods. “Your bra will need to come off.” He holds his hands up as all three men head for him. “I have a shirt she can wear so everything is covered, as well as nipple covers.”

“Chill.” I elbow Chase on my way past. “Besides, just think about how you’ll get to look at it when I’m naked.”

“Okay, yeah, shit.” Chase nods. “Cover up, good, yeah.” He struggles with words as I step behind the partition and quickly change. The nipple covers conceal most of my boobs, and I leave the shirt loose. I stand as he applies the stencil, and when I look down, I grin.

“I love it. Let’s do it.” I lie down and smile at the guys as they crowd around me. Chase’s hand snakes across my breast, and I smack him away when Reg isn’t looking. “Keep it up and I’ll tell Reg all about those daddy books I read.”

“Go right ahead. I think my girl would like them.” He nods as he turns back. “She’s a reader too. I built her a nook back there for when I’m working.” He nods, and I turn to see a reading corner, and my heart melts.

This big, burly motherfucker built an actual reader’s paradise. It has a huge, plush chair with blankets and pillows, and there are fairy lights hanging down around it and a side table for drinks and snacks. “She’s a lucky lady,” I say truthfully.

“Nah, I’m the lucky bastard, and I don’t ever forget it. Okay, first line. Are you ready?” I nod, and when I don’t react, he laughs. “Women always handle tattoos better than men.” He glances at my guys. “Wait until you see those big babies.”

“Oh God, what an ick.” I wink at them.

“Nah, I’m just fucking with you. They sit solid. We were even talking about tatting Trav’s cock,” Reg tells me as Trav blushes but grins at me.

“You should.” I lick my lips, and Trav groans.

When mine is done, I can’t stop staring at the logo. Chase is up next, and he handles his like a pro despite Reg’s teasing. When I sigh, he winks and tells me he likes pain. Kolton is up next, and he sits well too. They both get theirs in the same spot that I did. Trav has to get it elsewhere since he’s so covered, and he doesn’t like that, but it doesn’t matter to me.

When he’s done, however, he leans back and grins at me. “Reg, let’s do the dick tattoo while I’m here.”

“Shit, man, are you sure? It’s going to hurt,” Reg warns.

“Nah, I’m sure, and let my girl help.” He winks at me. “I want her ink on my skin.”

My eyes widen. “I don’t know how to tattoo.”

“I can show you. You can do some of the lines. It’s tricky on a cock though.” Reg sighs. “What do you want? We talked about flames and shit.”

“I’m thinking something different,” he says, and I just blink. They bend closer together and whisper as I eat the snacks Kolton brought me, and when they call us back, Trav’s pants are down. He holds his cock in his hand as he presents it to me. “What do you think, Beck?”

I move closer, and my jaw drops. Chase and Kolton burst into laughter, but I just stare.

“Are you sure?” I ask hesitantly.

“Positive.” He winks. “Now be a good girl and tattoo your name on me.”

I gulp but nod because on his cock, in bold letters, is, “Beck’s Property.”

It fills me with a sick sense of satisfaction, but I hesitate. A tattoo like that isn’t easy to get rid of. What if we break up? His hand cups my chin, and he kisses me, silencing all of my internal dialogue. “It’s you, Beck. It’s always been you, and it will always be you. This is just for us, so when we are on stage or when you get jealous in public, you will always know I belong to you.”

“That’s so fucking sweet.” Reg sniffles, and we both glance over to see tears in his eyes. He waves us on. “Don’t mind me.”

Grinning, I glance back at Trav. “Try not to get hard while I tattoo you.”

“Baby, you know it’s going to happen. Now ink your name on me, claim me.” He kisses me and lies down, his legs parted.

Reg walks me through it, and then I stand over him. “Are you ready?”

He grins and nods. “Go ahead.” He’s way too calm considering I have a needle near his dick.

Whatever.

Following Reg’s instructions, I carefully ink my name. The buzz of the machine relaxes my raging heartbeat. Trav doesn’t move an inch or complain, and when I lean back and wipe it, he groans. “Shit, baby. Let Reg wipe it. Sorry, man, but you just don’t do it for me, and she does.”

Reg chuckles as he takes over, and I sit back, staring at the black ink on his cock—Beck.

I’m so going to fuck this man’s brains out when I can. Hell, he can even put it in my ass. He’s mine, and I’m his.

“Might want to distract him, Beck,” Reg says. “This bit is going to fucking suck.”

Moving around the bed, I grin down at Trav. His eyes are tight with pain, but he doesn’t make a noise despite the buzzing needle on his cock. “Does it hurt? Wait, stupid question.” Leaning down, I bite his bottom lip and then soothe it with my tongue. “Think of that pain instead,” I murmur.

“Uh, maybe not help like that.” Reg chuckles.

Laughing, I straighten and wag my finger at Trav. “Behave,” I warn.

“Baby, you just kissed me. Of course I’m going to get hard. The only way I wouldn’t be is if you were in a different room, and even then, all it would take is thinking about you. It’s official. I’m obsessed.”

“You two are so cute,” Reg remarks. “I wondered if you were together after seeing you on the red carpet.” We both spare him a look, and he grins. “What? You guys support my business, so you can bet I support you as well. You look good together. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. Your business is your business.”

“Thank you,” I tell him honestly. “Most people would sell the story.”

“Meh, I don’t need money. Besides, friendship is more important, that and my girl would kill me. She’s rooting for all of you. She also has this bizarre idea that Reign Harrow is dating her bodyguards. The woman reads too many books.”

I cough as I turn away, covering my grin. His girl is smart, and whatever books she’s been reading, I want in.

By the time the tattoo is done, Reg and I are pretty much besties and I have his girl’s number.

I take a picture of us once Trav’s pants are on and send it to her.

Beck: Reg says hi.

I get a response immediately.

Reg’s Girl: OH MY GOD!

Reg’s Girl: OH MY FUCKING GOD!

Reg’s Girl: HI!

Reg’s Girl: HI!

Reg’s Girl: HI!

Reg’s Girl: OMG!

Reg’s Girl: WAIT RIGHT THERE, DO NOT MOVE, I’M COMING!

Reg’s Girl: WAIT, THAT SOUNDED STALKERISH. I WON’T, BUT HI, OMG!

Laughing, I text her back and put my phone away as Chase hands over a wad of cash. “Thanks, my man.”

“Anything for you, brother. I haven’t seen you at a meeting in a while,” Reg says, and I blink.

Oh, is that how Chase knows him? My heart melts over their unlikely friendship.

“I haven’t needed one for a while,” he admits, smiling at me.

“Good.” Reg claps him on the back. “Never forget we are behind you. Now go kill that tour.”

“Oh, we will.”

FIFTY-SEVEN

“Seriously, what the fuck do you pack for a worldwide tour? How many panties, bras, and socks? Do I need books? What about pajamas?” I stare at my bed where everything is spread out.

Kolton laughs as he plays with one of my shirts. “You came here with one bag,” he reminds me.

“Yes, and now look.” I gesture at the full bed. “You fuckers did this, and now I can’t seem to pack fucking light. What if I need the sparkly dress or options? I hate you all so fucking much.”

“You’re so cute.” He grins.

“Shut up, I’m mad at you,” I grumble as I lift yet another handbag. “I don’t even know where half of this shit came from. I don’t remember this.”

“Oh, we sometimes sneak new things into your closet when you aren’t looking,” he says casually. “We take the tags off and you never notice. That dress you’re wearing? I bought it last week.”

“What the fuck?” I glance down. Shit, is he right?

Fuck me.

“Don’t do that,” I mutter.

“Why? We like spoiling you, and it gives us a sense of satisfaction to see whose clothes you choose.” His eyes darken with lust as he picks up a lacy black dress that covers nothing. “Personally, I can’t wait to see this one.”

“Perverts, all of you. I’m not your doll.”

He slides from the bed, the dress hanging from a finger, and grabs my ass, hauling me to him as he licks my lips. “Why not? You like it when we play with you.”

“I’m trying to pack,” I reply, but it sounds like a purr.

He grins as he turns, grabs a bunch of random shit, and tosses it in the bag. “There, now let’s play.”

“There isn’t even any underwear in there.” I smirk.

“You don’t need any, trust me. When you’re not on stage, we’ll be buried in your cunt, mouth, or ass . . . I haven’t decided which, maybe all at the same time. Underwear will just get in the way.”

“I have corrupted you.” I push his chest, and he falls back onto the bed, grinning. “Seriously, help me pack. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

He softens as he sits up. “You won’t. Okay, let’s start with the basics. We can wash clothes, so you don’t need all these. Your tour outfits will be with the team, so you need pajamas to travel and something in case we go out. That’s about it, babe.”

Nodding, we start to fold clothes with him helping me discard what I don’t need. I don’t want to overpack since we will be on the bus and traveling a lot, but I carefully pack my sister’s tapes.

“Shit, I ran out of face cream. One second.” I leave Kolton and head to Chase’s room to ask him to get me some.

He’s lying on his bed, his bag packed and eyes closed.

“Babe, can you run and get some face cream for me? I have that green one with⁠—”

He opens his eyes, grinning. “I know, wait there.” He hops up and heads into his bathroom. I hear him rooting around, and then he comes out with a bag. I peek inside, seeing my face cream as well as some face masks and other boxes.

“Here, I have some.” He hands me an unopened tub of my favorite cream. “I got some when you moved in after trying ours. Plus, I figured if you ever ran out, you could just borrow mine.”

“What?” I peer at him.

“You seemed bad at remembering to order the stuff you needed, so I did it for you.” He shrugs. “Besides, I like smelling like you.” He smacks my ass. “Now go pack.”

Wanting to cry for some unknown reason, I head back to Kolton to see him refolding everything I folded with a guilty grin.

“You are terrible at packing. Don’t worry, baby. Why don’t you pack your toiletries while I sort your clothes and stuff?” He kisses me as I head past him with a grumble.

He’s too fucking cute.

When we’re done, we slump onto my bed, both exhausted, just as my phone rings. Groaning, I grab it and open the news article in my emails that the label sent us. Kolton’s hands play with my hair idly as I read.

A bad feeling builds in my stomach.

Everything You Need to Know About the Dead Ringers Tour.

Now, don’t get me wrong, it’s a good article. It praises the band and builds excitement for the tour, even revealing some of the secret set list, but my name isn’t mentioned once. Not one single time. The guys are cited multiple times, so either it was done on accident or someone made them.

Which means Ben is right, we are getting close.

At least my nudes haven’t been leaked. I close the article, feeling annoyed, but I force a smile for Kolton just as there is a noise from downstairs. We both jerk up and hurry out of my room, peering over the railing.

Rachel stands in the hallway, grinning up at us.

Chase and Trav hurry out of their rooms with a frown, and I realize she let herself in. What the fuck? Does she do that often? Shit, what if she had walked in on us fucking around? We need to remember to lock the door.

“Sorry, the door was open. The bus is here.” She holds up keys. “Want to see? Come on, Beck, it’s your first tour bus.”

My annoyance disappears. She’s been a lot nicer to me since the other day, and I can’t really complain. She’s protective of this band, and she’s working hard, so I smile and head down with the guys.

“Shit, I hope it has a better bed than last time,” Chase grumbles.

“You remember the first tour we did? We slept in a tiny van, dude.” Trav grins, slapping his side. “We’ve come far.”

I follow them out, my mouth dropping at the huge bus parked outside the house. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this. It’s the size of, well, a bus and painted all black. I’m surprised there’s no logo, but I suppose it will keep us incognito as we travel. “Come on.” Trav takes my hand and tugs me inside, and I just look around, wide-eyed.

In the front of the bus are black leather sofas with white lights under them, and a wooden floor cushions our feet. There are skylights above, with lights running across the top of the bus as well. Beyond the sofas is a small kitchen area with an oven, cupboards, and every appliance you could need. There’s a little nook on the right with two benches and a table with TVs above each. Beyond that, with a curtain pushed back, are bunks on either side, four in total. They are deeper than I expected, with little lights and a TV in each. They all have their own curtains as well.

Behind the bunks is a huge bathroom, with a shower, toilet, and LED mirror. It’s big enough to fit all of us. There’s a door at the very back, which is closed, but I slide it open. There’s a king-sized bed pushed up under a window. It has two built-in side tables with lights and a row of wardrobes at the back. The whole bus is outfitted with the highest quality materials available, and it screams luxury.

“Damn, the label outdid themselves.” Chase whistles. “This is the best one yet.”

“A thank you for how hard you have all been working,” Rachel says, perched on one of the two driver seats up front.

Trav crowds me into the bedroom, his voice dark in my ear. “We are christening this bed before we leave.”

“Just this one or all the bunks?” I ask as I turn to him. I pull him out of view, and he groans, kissing me as he backs me into the bed until I fall on it. I hear Rachel talking as she draws near, but Trav ignores it, slipping his hand under my dress and gripping my breast as he swallows my moan.

I hear Chase coughing and distracting Rachel, their voices just beyond the door, and my eyes go to it. I can see her back. She’s facing Chase who is talking to her, keeping her attention on him and not what we are doing back here.

Trav’s hand grips my breast possessively as he kisses me. My eyes close, and I open my legs to let him closer. I feel his hard dick pressing against me as his hand releases my breast and slides down. His long fingers slip into my panties, and I gasp, trying to pull away.

“Shh, baby,” he murmurs. “Don’t draw her attention. Keep quiet for me and I’ll make you come.”

I should say no, I should stop him, but I widen my legs and hide my face in his neck as his long fingers stroke my cunt. My desire is evident as he slides them lower and pushes them inside me, rubbing the spot that has me biting his neck to stop myself from crying out.

He breathes out a soft chuckle as he grinds his hand into my clit and fucks me with his fingers. The danger of being found makes me pant as I roll my hips to fuck myself on them, wanting to come quickly but also wanting to drag this out. I both want to be found and not be found.

The sound of footsteps causes me to turn my head to peer out of the door. Rachel is trying to walk back here and check on us, but Trav doesn’t care. He adds a third finger, stretching me as he rubs harder, making my eyes cross.

I watch Chase block her, no doubt grinning at her as he edges her away from the door.

Chase leads her farther forward in the bus. “Look at the fridge,” Chase exclaims.

“It’s great, right? Beck, what do you think?” I hear her call.

I bite my hand to mute my moan as Trav’s fingers sink deeper and twist. “Yes, Beck, what do you think?” He smirks down at me.

“Bastard,” I mutter. “It’s great, very good.”

“Only very good?” Trav whispers and slaps my clit, and I muffle a moan.

“Extremely good, so fucking good!” I call instead, making him grin happily.

“Good girl,” he praises, fucking me deeper. “Now come for me.”

“Trav,” I warn, not wanting to even though I do.

“Come,” he demands, giving me permission, and I can’t do anything but. Crying out against his neck, I roll my hips as I ride my release out on his hand. When I’m spent, I fall back. He kisses my cheeks and then my lips before tugging his hand from my panties and licking it clean.

“I love it,” he tells Rachel, even though she didn’t ask, and we all know he’s talking about me. “It’s perfect.”

Rolling my eyes, I quickly straighten my clothes and stumble from the room, grinning as she turns to me, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I like the bed.”

“Really? You like the bus?” She seems happy and completely oblivious as Trav’s hand grabs my ass.

Smoothing my hair, I grin at Rachel. “I like it.”

FIFTY-EIGHT

We are on the road bright and early, and we are all excited. I’m nervous, but the guys are singing loudly to the radio, and I eventually unwind. Whatever this tour holds, we’ll do it together. I might be completely inexperienced, but they aren’t, and I know they won’t let me fuck up.

I try to relax, and for a while, it works. We drive for only two hours before we arrive at the first venue, and it all becomes too real too quickly. I stand on the stairs of the bus, staring up at the huge stadium. It’s midmorning, but cars are driving in and out of the back loading dock where we are. I don’t know what half of them are doing, but it’s a hive of activity.

The building is huge, and tonight, it will be filled.

“Oh, fuck me, I can’t do this. Who the hell do I think I am?”

“Breathe.” Trav takes my hand. “Think of one thing at a time. For example, just walk to the venue, then to the dressing room. We take this one step at a time.”

Nodding, I follow his advice, breathing through my panic as they call out and greet the crew. “We’ll introduce you to everyone later. Let’s just get you in and around for now,” Trav explains, holding my hand the entire time. He probably thinks I’ll run, and he wouldn’t be wrong.

I’m debating bolting.

I focus on his warmth, his words, and just head into the venue. That’s it. Nothing else. Once I’m inside, I walk down the corridor, nothing more.

The guys seem to know where they are going, which is good because Rachel gets pulled away to deal with something and we are left to our own devices. “That’s the green room,” Trav murmurs, pointing out a room. “These are our dressing rooms for tonight,” he points out more, and I just nod robotically.

“Are you ready to stand on stage?” he asks, turning to me. I swallow and meet his gaze. He steps in front of me, blocking everything else. “Breathe, Beck, seriously.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just so⁠—”

“Real,” he finishes. “I know, but you’re not alone. You’re with us. You can do this.”

I take some deep breaths, and when I’ve calmed a bit, he leads me through the corridors and onto the stage.

Swallowing hard, I glance around, feeling very small and insignificant for a moment. The stage is a semicircle with a long section leading off into the crowd. Barriers are being erected, but there are so many rows of seats that I nearly puke.

So many seats, so many people, so many eyes.

All knowing I don’t belong.

I have never felt that so strongly as I do standing here. I’m just a woman who conned her way into this band, into their beds and hearts. I don’t belong, but they don’t seem to care as they point out things to me, not realizing I’m silent.

“You’ll feel better after sound check,” Kolton promises, no doubt realizing I’m anxious as hell. “It gets easier every time, I promise.”

“First time we performed, I vomited right up until we went on,” Chase says with a grin.

“I had to get drunk to go on stage the first time we played a sold-out stadium, and I cried after.” Kolton shrugs.

“See?” Trav says, gesturing around. “We are all nervous, baby. It’s been a while for us too, but we are in this together. I promise. We’ll feel it all together, and you’ll find your home on this stage. You’ll find your religion, and rock will become your church.”

They are right. During sound check, I start to unwind. I get a feel for the stage, and the first time I run through the opening songs, I barely move before Chase and Kolton start to dance around me, and then I can’t help but laugh and join in. They show me that it’s okay to move, and all the training from the choreographers comes back and I slip naturally into the routines.

It helps if I focus on them and not the sprawling arena. I will undoubtedly freak out at the sight of all the people tonight, but I’m determined to do this. All those eyes on me? They will be nothing compared to what I have conquered.

I stole the hearts of three rock stars, so what’s a couple thousand fans?

Once sound check is done, I leave the crew to get everything organized. They worked like a well-oiled machine—merch stands are erected, the set is put together, and lights and sound are assembled. It’s utter chaos to watch, but every single person knows exactly what they should be doing. It’s incredible.

We have a few hours until I need to be dressed, so when we head back to the bus to rest, I get my first glimpse at being a rock star. Fans are near the fence, phones are in the air, and signs are pressed to the mesh as they scream and shout for us. I even see a sign for me.

Marry me, Beck.

Blinking, I scan the rest and find another.

Beck, be my mommy.

“Yeah, Beck,” Chase teases, stepping behind me. “Or you can be my mommy. I’ve been a bad boy.”

“You’re always bad,” I mutter, and then I turn my eyes to him and step closer. His Adam’s apple bobs as I press against him just out of the fans’ view, sliding my hand up to grip his neck. His eyes widen and fill with lust. “You couldn’t handle me in that way, pretty boy,” I tease before I step away, leaving him hard as I turn back to the fans.

“Pretty girl, not to be fucking rude, but I’m going to need you in leathers and heels, torturing me while you speak to me like that again. Hell, I’ll call you Mommy if you want.” He groans, pressing against my back, his very hard dick nestled in my ass.

“If you’re good.” I wink as I grab my phone and load what I want. His chin rests on my shoulder, and when his voice comes, it’s soft and sweet and makes me shudder.

“Such a softie, baby girl.”

“Shut up or I’ll go tell them how you just begged to call me Mommy,” I mutter.

“Pretty girl, they would be right there with me,” he teases, kissing my cheek. “Come on, let’s go say hi to your fans.”

Taking my hand, he drags me over, and they start to scream. I’m surprised by the number of men in the crowd, but I happily wave and pose for photos with Chase. When I reach the one holding a sign for me, she blushes so hard, it’s adorable.

“You are amazing!” she gushes. “I can’t wait to see you live tonight. You’re the only reason I bought a ticket.”

“Sorry, can you say that again?” I pull out my phone to fake record, and she laughs. I sign the page she holds out and take a picture, and we talk for a while until some of the crew members emerge with big bags.

“For you guys.” I hand them through the fence. “I didn’t know what to order, but it’s cold today, so there’s some coffee, tea, and sandwiches. Make sure to stay warm and hydrated.”

“Oh my god.” The girl actually starts to cry. “You are so kind.”

Why do I want to cry when someone else cries?

I quickly wave them off and urge them to eat before hightailing it out of there, a laughing Chase following me. Back in the bus, I see Trav taking a nap while Kolton cooks.

He arches his eyebrow at Chase. “What’s going on?”

“Our girl is such a softie. You should have seen her. ‘Here, keep warm.’” He mocks my voice, so I grab the spatula Kolton is holding out and bend Chase over the dining table, spanking his ass as he yelps.

“Bad Chase,” I snap as I smack him harder.

“Jesus, pretty girl, what the fuck?” he yells, but he stops struggling and bends farther over the table, as if to give me better access.

I stop midair and tilt my head. “You’re enjoying this.”

He grins at me over his shoulder. “Definitely not. Oh please, Beck, please don’t punish me.” When I gape, he lets out the most adorable sigh I have ever heard. “I’ve been a bad boy. Won’t you punish me?”

“Take your sex games to the bedroom, I’m trying to sleep,” Trav calls. “And for the love of God, I never want to hear you say you’re a bad boy again.”

We both turn to look at him and then at each other, and I know a wicked grin curves my lips. “Bend over farther,” I order.

Chase smirks as he stretches his long arms across the table, gripping the other side. Pushing his shirt up, I lean down and press kisses along his spine as he shudders, goosebumps rising on his skin. I watch his hands clench the table, his eyes shutting as he groans.

Smirking, I reach around and unbuckle his jeans, pushing them down to his knees. He parts his thighs, rolling his hips as he grinds into the table.

I bring the flat edge of the spatula down on his now bare ass, and he jerks from the force, a surprised moan ripping from his mouth. “I didn’t say you could get off,” I warn.

“Shit, sorry,” he replies. I press a kiss to the red mark on his perfectly round ass cheek.

Straightening, I rub the spatula edge into the sting as he groans. I feel him fighting the urge to grind, and when he gives in, I bring it down across his ass twice in hard succession. Watching the red marks bloom across his skin gives me a sick kind of pleasure, and hearing his pain-fueled pleasure noises only adds to that. I rub the marks with my hand as he hisses, but when I slide my hand lower and around, I find his cock absolutely rock solid and leaking for me.

Oh, the dirty bastard likes this alright.

Slowly stroking my hand down his length, I bring him right up to the edge, and just when he’s about to come, I let go and bring the spatula down again, across his ass and then his balls.

He cries out, jerking against the wooden table. “Please, pretty girl, please, fuck, I need to come,” he whines.

“Not yet,” I tell him as I lick away the sting and then add more marks to the ones burned across his ass. His cry is pure frustration, and when his words come, they are slurred together and wild.

“Please, Beck, please, fuck, just let me come. Stop, don’t stop, I don’t care. Fuck, I need to come,” he begs, rolling his hips in circles. His precum drips down his shaking legs at this point, and the bus is quiet bar his breathing and pleas.

Sliding my hand up his back, I grip the nape of his neck and pull his head up, pressing my mouth to his ear. “I like hearing you beg for me,” I murmur, biting down on his earlobe as he groans loudly. “But I didn’t say you could come yet.”

I release him, and he hits the table as I slide the spatula across his ass, parting his cheeks and then spanking him as he cries. I watch the welts form across his skin, and I can’t help myself. I part his cheeks once more and press my thumb against his hole.

He cries out, hitting his head against the table as he shakes below me. “Pretty girl, I’m going to fucking come if you don’t stop.”

“Not yet you’re not,” I tell him as I spank him at the same time I slide my thumb into him, past the ring of muscles. The sound he lets out isn’t even human. His whole body shakes, and his hips smash into the table as I play with him.

This big, bad rock star comes completely undone for me, and it’s fucking addictive.

I slide my thumb deeper and pull out, fucking him with it as I bring the spatula down. My name is a constant cry on his lips as he pushes back, demanding more. Words fall from his mouth he will regret later, but it’s so fucking hot having the great Chase Reed helpless for me, unable to control himself.

“Please, Beck, please, pretty girl—fuck. Harder, fuck me harder,” he pleads.

“You beg so goddamn sweetly, rock star,” I purr as I slide my thumb deeper, and the noise he makes is guttural. Red welts decorate his ass, and I lean down to lick them as I finger his ass. I drop the spatula to the table and slide my hand around, gripping his balls.

He’s close, so when I feel him about to break, I pull out and step back.

He gasps, confused for a moment before he whirls. His eyes are wild, and his pretty mouth is parted for me.

“Beck,” he says, aghast.

“Say thank you, Mommy, for punishing me,” I demand with a wicked grin as I step closer until he’s practically sitting on the table. A little hiss escapes him as his sore ass hits the wood.

His eyes burn. “Thank you for punishing me, Mommy.”

“Say, please, let me come, Mommy,” I demand, waiting with an arched brow. I’ll never tell him my pussy is so wet, I’m dripping through my underwear. No, this is about him. He’s wilder than I’ve ever seen him, but also freer. Chase is gone, and in his place is just a man begging for what he wants.

“Please, Mommy, let me come,” he begs.

“Good boy,” I praise. “You get two thrusts.” I wrap my hand around his cock and squeeze. His head falls back in extreme pleasure, his eyes squeezed shut as he thrusts into my hand like it’s my pussy. He thrusts again, and with a yell I’m pretty sure those outside the bus can hear, he spills in my hand.

I grip his cock, wringing each drop of pleasure from him until he slumps back against the table, breathing heavily. His pants are still around his ankles, and he has a wild, confused look in his eyes. “I’ve never come so fucking hard,” he whispers.

Smirking, I hold my hand out to him. “You made a mess. Clean it up.” He leans down, and I step back, tutting. “That’s not how you clean up. On your knees, rock star.”

He drops to his knees like he’s in a temple, and he’s looking at me with something that drives my heartbeat crazy—utter obsession. I am his weakness, his entire focus. Fuck me, there isn’t anything like it.

I am Chase Reed’s religion right now, I am his everything, and I want this forever.

“Open your mouth,” I order.

His mouth drops open, and I press my hand to his lips. He groans, his nostrils flaring as he struggles to breathe. I hold him like that before pulling back and offering him my palm. “Now lick.”

Grabbing my wrist, he swipes his wet, warm tongue along my palm, cleaning every drop of his cum. The sight makes me weak, and the heat of his tongue makes my core clench. “Can you taste yourself?” I murmur, my voice husky.

He nods, licking harder until there’s nothing left, and I pull my hand away. “Good job, now get to your feet.”

He stands up, hitting the table as his legs give, and I kiss him. “Good boy.”

I leave him slumped there, dazed as hell. “What the fuck just happened?” he mutters.

“I was using that to cook.” Kolton sighs, leaning back into the counter where he was watching us.

I drag my tongue across the end of the spatula and hand it back. “There, you can continue cooking now. I’ve finished.”

Humming happily, I head straight to the bathroom to deal with the issue of my wet cunt. Seriously, it’s embarrassing how hard I need to come. It almost hurts, and my hands shake as I hurry to shut the door, struggling to get my pants down at the same time the memory of Chase licking my hand fills my head.

The door is just shutting when a hand slides between it and the frame, and it rips open. Trav forces his way in, kicking the door closed behind him. “It seems like you enjoyed playing,” he remarks, noticing my hand in my pants.

I swallow hard, tugging my hand out. “I don’t know what you—” He covers my mouth, making my eyes widen.

“You played with him, and now I’m going to play with you.” He crowds me until I’m backed against the sink. “If you ever need to come, baby, then you ask us. All three of us are here for your pleasure, fucking waiting and hoping you’ll need us. Our cocks, hands, and mouths are all here for you to get off on. You need us? Ask.” He drops his hand.

“I need you,” I rasp out, all my courage fleeing me in the face of his dark eyes, tattooed skin, and wicked promises.

He doesn’t tease me. He turns me and bends me over the sink, pushing my pants down, and then he kneels, lapping at my cream as I gasp. My knuckles turn white as I grab onto the counter, hanging on as he shoves my legs wider and forces his shoulders between my thighs as he eats me like he’s been waiting for the opportunity to.

His tongue drags over my clit and then thrusts inside me, drinking down every drop of my need—need I got from torturing and fucking his bandmate. “Fuck, you taste so fucking sweet, peaches.” He moans, gripping my hips. “It’s all I’ll think of tonight when you’re on stage—how you fucking taste when you’re riding my face until I can’t breathe.”

I can’t hold back my cry of pleasure as I push back, fucking his face. I was already close to coming, so when he nips my clit, I shatter for him.

I jerk and cry out, my pussy clenching on his tongue as my cum drips into his mouth.

Pleasure rolls through me as he licks me through it, and when I finally slump, he places a gentle kiss on my clit. I feel him stand, but I’m weak, my legs shaking from how hard I came.

He turns me slowly and kisses me deeply so I taste myself there. “Good girl,” he murmurs. “Now go shower, then we’ll eat before we get ready.”

He leaves me as bewildered as Chase.

FIFTY-NINE

We are watching Sanctuary, an up-and-coming rock band, perform their set from the green room when I pull out the box. I have been waiting all day to give it to her. Turning, I set it on her knee. She blinks and looks down. “What’s this?”

“Your tour present. It’s from all of us. It’s tradition,” I tell her. I got a new guitar from Chase, Trav got an engraved drumstick, and Chase? Well, Chase never got one since he started it, which means we need to rectify that, but he doesn’t seem bothered as he waits nervously for Beck to open the black box with purple ribbon.

She rips into it, chucking the ribbon at Chase with a wink who blushes, then she gasps when she sees what’s nestled inside. It’s a long chain pendant with a cross—silver, of course, since she doesn’t mix metals—and on the back are all our names and today’s date.

“To remember your first show and that we are eternal,” I murmur.

“I love it.” Despite her outfit and the fact that everything is meticulously planned, she slips it over her head, covering it with her hand. “It’s perfect, thank you all.”

“It’s time.” The door opens, and Rachel smiles at us.

Nodding, I stand and hold my hand out to Beck. “Come on, baby—Beck, time to show them how talented our lead singer is.”

She grins and takes my hand. I feel it shake slightly, but it’s good that she’s nervous. It will make her care more and work harder.

We head to the stage together. Our instruments are already out there, and the lights are off. The crowd is screaming, chanting our name, and as I turn to Beck and lean in, I steal a kiss in the dark. “Breathe, you’re going to be amazing. If you get lost, look at us,” I instruct. When I turn away, I swear I see Rachel watching us, but she doesn’t say anything as we head on stage.

They can see our outlines, the smoke of the set wrapping around our dark silhouettes as we take our places. I’m to the right of Beck, while Chase is to the left, and Trav is on the drums. Beck grips the mic, her guitar around her neck, and I see her taking deep breaths as she looks at the crowd.

The intro starts, and the video plays behind us as the screams turn deafening, and then Trav hits the drums. Once, a light comes on. Twice, another light. He hits the drums two more times, and then we are all spotlighted.

We smile at the crowd as they go wild, and then the first track queues up. I wait for the countdown in my ear, and then I shred. We dive straight into our first song, the music flowing out across the arena as the crowd jumps and sings along since it’s a fan favorite.

The lights are almost blinding, making it hard to see the crowd clearly, and I see Beck relax as she starts to sing. She’s quiet at first, but she grows in volume, standing still until I dance over, rolling my hips as I press my back to her side. I wink as the crowd screams my name.

She grins and twirls over to Chase, leaning into him as they sing together before she jumps and dances over to Trav, who grins widely.

I can’t help but watch her, the music flowing more effortlessly than it ever has. She captures my attention, and when I drag my eyes away, I see the crowd feels the same, enraptured by her as the final notes ring through the arena and she holds up her mic. When the crowd quiets enough, she pulls it down.

“Hello, you amazing people. We are Dead Ringers, and welcome to the first night of our tour!” They scream, and she laughs, waiting until they quiet again. “I’m Beck Danvers. Some of you might know me, some of you might not, but I’m a newbie here.” She winks, and then she turns. “Tonight, we have the incredible Kolton shredding bass.”

I play a few chords with a smirk, and she fans her face. “The ever sexy Chase on the electric guitar.” He saunters forward, leaning into the crowd as he plays. They reach and scream for him despite the security guards at the barrier.

“And of course, our talented Trav on drums!” she shouts as he smashes out his solo.

When it ends, she turns back to the crowd. “Now, how about we kick this off with some new music I know you have all been dying to hear?” She holds her hand to her ear. “I can’t hear you.” They scream louder. Who wouldn’t when she asked?

“Okay, okay, well then, hold on because we are about to melt your faces.” She puts her mic back and grabs her guitar as we are counted in, and then she starts to play. Her fingers move over the guitar like water as she rolls and dances with it, moving across the stage with effortless steps as Chase’s smoky voice fills the air, and then hers.

Trav and I join in, adding backup vocals.

They don’t know the words, but the crowd screams and jumps as we head straight into the next song, “Hills,” an older one, and they go wild.

The entire time we play, my eyes are on Beck. She plays the crowd naturally, never showing she’s nervous. She sings better than she ever has, dancing along like a world-class dancer, and always makes sure to include us. The crowd eats it up, chanting our names, and when it comes to talking?

Shit, she’s a natural.

“Well, well, are we having a good time so far?” she calls, holding out the mic as she takes a drink. The crowd screams, and she grins as Chase comes over, leaning into her.

“How many of you are looking at Beck’s ass?” The crowd screams louder, and she chuckles, elbowing Chase.

“How’s the view from back there?” she flirts.

“Perfection.” He presses his hand to his chest, and the crowd eats it up.

“Alright, alright, now I know we all like the old stuff—trust me, I do too—but we have more new songs to play if that’s okay with you.” She waits for them to agree and glances back at me. “What do you think, Kolt? Want to hit them with that new song? You know the one, it goes dun dun—” I shred the guitar as the crowd screams, and Trav hits the drums as we move into the next song.

We know they will love it. It’s fast, hard, and dirty, and they fucking salivate as we play. My heart races with adrenaline from the adoration and feelings of not being alone, but this time, I won’t even be alone when I leave the stage.

I have her.

When she steps forward, she waits for the audience to quiet down. “Okay, we have to shift gears now. I need you to turn your flashlights on for me. Chase, it’s all you.” She hands over the mic and quickly changes guitars.

He’s nervous. We weren’t sure if he was going to be okay adding the song they wrote about his addiction, but he was more than happy to. Facing the crowd now, though, he swallows hard. She moves closer, kisses his cheek, and whispers something.

We wait for him. “This one comes from my soul,” he admits into the mic. “We all know I’ve struggled with my addiction in the past, and every day since then, I struggle. This is for every single person out there who knows that struggle, who fights every day just to say no.” The song starts up, and his voice is slow and husky as we play the soft melody.

There aren’t any lights on us, just him where he stands in the center of the stage.

He’s getting the recognition for the fight he wins every day.

More and more flashlights turn on until the whole area is lit up brightly, as if by candlelight. The view is extraordinary. So many souls stand with him, and when he’s done, Chase wipes at his eyes.

I move over, handing him a drink, and he thanks me as Beck hugs him.

“Alright, you fuckers,” Trav calls to give us time. “Since you dirty bastards are here, then that means you love to rebel, am I right?” He watches as they scream. “Good, because it just so happens that’s our next album, and this is the song our brilliant new lead singer wrote for you.”

As we play the next one, Beck jumps to the front of Trav’s drums, and they rise into the air. My heart aches as I watch them, panic winding through me until they hit the floor once more, and she dances off it, skidding to her knees with the last note.

The rest of the concert goes just as well, and we do two encores, and even when we wave and walk off after the last one, we can hear them screaming our names.

Beck jumps up and down, hopped up on adrenaline and excitement as I sling my arm around her shoulders. “I need a drink.”

“Me too, or ten,” she gushes. “They loved it, Kolt.”

“They loved you.” Chase winks as we walk to the green room. It’s already bustling with people. Sanctuary cheers for us when we come in, as well as some of the VIPs here. Today was a long day, so after a few beers with them, we call it quits since we have to travel to the next venue tonight.

When we are back in the bus, my shoulders finally slump in exhaustion, and I can’t wait to crawl between the sheets with my girl in my arms.

We pull up short at the flowers covering nearly every surface of the bus. Whistling, I grab a card, as do the others. “To Dead Ringers, congratulations and good luck. Thank you for everything you do, Trav, Chase, and Kolton. Love, Management.” I frown, glancing at Trav, who shakes his head and holds up the card, showing Beck’s name is missing on his too. We all turn to Beck, who drops a card that doesn’t have her name.

“It was probably a mistake.” One I will make sure they rectify. It’s fucked up not to include her, and I will make sure they know that. Beck just played her heart out, and she’s the one who brought life back to the band, so she should be at the top of the fucking list.

“Yeah, probably.” She smiles, but it seems wilted and unsure. “Let’s head to bed.”

We watch her go, all of us frowning and annoyed, and I know our management is going to rue the day they forgot her name, mistake or not.

SIXTY

We have two days of travel to get to the next arena, but we’ll also be performing there for three nights, so I can’t really complain. I expected to get bored on the bus, but the guys keep me busy, just not busy enough for me to forget the slight from the flowers.

It means whoever bullied my sister is still here. I have no doubt about it. I texted Ben, and he agrees. He’s still working through the list of names, but he has texted me two crew members who he thinks are suspicious. It’s my job when we get to the next venue to find out if they are behind it.

I relax, resting and playing games with the guys while we travel.

We stop every now and again to get some snacks or stretch our legs, and on our latest stop, there is a fair right next to it. After shooting Rachel a text, telling her we are going to play for two hours and ignoring her response, the guys drag me into it. I can’t stop smiling as Trav wins me a giant teddy bear. Not to be outdone, Kolton and Chase do as well, so they are each carrying one for me.

Laughing, I skip over to the food stalls and grab us a mixture of everything, which we eat as we walk. We all have hats tugged down over our faces, but no one seems to notice us or care as the afternoon sun warms our skin. I find myself holding each of their hands at some point. We ride rides and take photos, and it’s like a normal date, as if we could be anyone.

I keep the photo strip in my pocket, unable to stop smiling as we head to the giant Ferris wheel. Kolton balks, but I drag him on, and he sits at my side, holding my hand tightly as we go up, giving us a view of the surrounding countryside and roads.

It stops at the top for us, swinging slightly, and I giggle as I lean out and shout. Chase laughs and joins us, then Trav, but Kolton is pale. I kiss him. “Scream, baby, let it out.”

He swallows and screams, but it’s quiet.

“Again,” I urge him, and this time he screams loudly. Laughing, we all join in. I’m sure they all think we are crazy, but I don’t care.

I’ve never felt so free and happy.

As soon as we get back on the bus, I line up the teddies on the bunk and flop back with my photo strip, smiling happily at it when my phone buzzes.

It’s an unknown email, and I open it, a bad feeling building within me. My mood instantly sours as I open the link.

Who is Beck Danvers—Star or Gold Digger?

I scan the contents, noting there is an “insider” saying that I’m using the guys for fame and that I’m sleeping with them—they have that one right—and much more. I instantly send it on to Ben, and he calls. I open FaceTime as he groans.

“I know a guy at that news outlet. I’ll reach out and see if I can get him to tell me who is responsible,” he snaps, sounding annoyed.

“Thanks, that would be great. They are upping their game, but you’re right. We are drawing closer. It also means they are getting more desperate. I want to know before it’s too late.”

“You’ve got it, Beck. Other than that, are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine. How about you?”

“Baby, get in here, we’re bored and want to play with you,” Chase calls. I blush, and Ben grins.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. You better go. Speak to you later, and don’t worry, Beck, we’ll figure this out and get answers for you and your sister.” I nod as I hang up. Heaving myself up, I leave my phone and the hate behind.

They want to break me, but they won’t succeed.

I have everything to lose now, but so do they.

When we reach the next stadium, it’s even bigger than the last one. Luckily, this time, we get hotel rooms, and they are right next door. Since we are here for a few days, I soak in the giant tub, and the glam team makes me up before we head over for night two, which goes just as well as night one. Some audience members even know the lyrics of our new songs, as if they have been watching the recordings from night one and learning them.

It’s incredible, and I can’t even begin to describe the feeling of standing on the stage, my heart and soul filled with music, and seeing them reflecting that. It’s not about the worship. It’s about the music that brings us together.

Chase is right. The stage becomes my church, and I worship it with my songs.

That night, we all skip the green room since we have to be up early for interviews and another set tomorrow night. It doesn’t take us long to get back to the hotel, and our rooms are next to each other, thank God. They are going to sneak through the adjoining door, since none of us seem to be used to sleeping alone anymore.

I’ll admit, it’s too quiet as I head into my room, so after dropping my coat, I head to their door, since they are sharing a three-bedroom suite. Maybe we can get room service, fuck each other’s brains out, and then watch films until we fall asleep.

It sounds like a perfect night, and I use the spare key they gave me to open the door, my heart filled with happiness, even though I’m tired and my throat hurts.

I stop in my tracks, my heart beating so fast it starts to ache. Jealousy and horror fill me at the scene.

There are three women here. I don’t notice anything else at first, just that they are sitting with the guys who all leap to their feet, looking guilty.

“Sorry, I should have knocked.” I start to back away, barely to breathe over the agony filling me.

Stupid, stupid fucking Beck. I should have known better.

“Beck, wait!” Trav leaps over the sofa, even as I try to fight him off, and he drags me over, pushes me down on the sofa, and sits on my lap so I can’t leave when I would have jumped up. “Stop it,” he snaps, and that makes me stop and finally look at the three women who all seem unsure and uncomfortable.

It’s then I notice they are in all black. Uniforms?

“Management sent some masseuses over to help with strain after performing,” Chase explains. “They were here when we got back. We had no idea. We were just telling—” He glances at them.

“Kendra, Mallory, and Courtney,” the blonde supplies with a smile at me.

“Yeah, them, that we don’t need that and they could go.”

The room is tense, and all eyes are on me, though the women seem unsure why. Kolton is practically vibrating, and I realize how hard this must be for him. “Ah, right,” I say.

There wasn’t a masseuse in my room, I realize, just theirs, and they are very beautiful females, as if they had been handpicked.

What the fuck is going on?

It’s clear from their eyes that they were expecting what I had been when I walked in. I want to kill someone, but I force myself to breathe and smile as I reach for Kolton. “No need, at least not with Kolt here. I gave him one earlier.”

He shoots me a grateful look.

“Ah, we are being paid to make sure they are very relaxed.”

“I’m sure. Trav and Chase for sure.” I smile, though it feels tight.

“No, I’m fine.” Trav frowns at them, moving to my side, and Chase even moves closer, as if he’s worried that being near them will upset me.

That alone softens my jealousy. It’s not their fault, and they did nothing wrong. Hell, they stopped me from running before I got upset at what I thought I walked in on. I should have known better.

“As I said, we’re fine. You can go. We’ll tell our label to pay you.” Chase smiles, but it’s tight as he turns to me. “And we’ll find out why they were sent.”

“It’s not normal?” I ask with a frown.

“Not really,” Kolton mutters.

Chase escorts them out and then flops onto the couch, staring at me. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I reply automatically before leaning back. “Okay, I was jealous and thought the worst, but that’s my fault, not yours.”

“We would never do that to you.” Kolton frowns.

“I know.” I kiss his hand. I know they wouldn’t. “So that’s not normal?”

“No.” Chase scowls. “Usually, they discourage my . . . ways.” He coughs. “Not encourage them. Is there one in your room?” His eyes narrow. “It’s a hot guy, isn’t it?”

“I wish.” I smirk. “Nope, not one in my room.”

“Well then, I guess we know what we have to do tonight.” Chase smirks, pulling off his shirt. “Who has oil?”

I can’t help but laugh, even as they converge on me, but one thought sticks.

Who sent the women, and what is their next move?

It feels like I’m four steps behind and being played, and I hate it. Maybe it’s time to switch up the game.

SIXTY-ONE

I’m still pissed about the masseuses, so when Beck showed us the articles this morning, I fucking lost it. I was on the phone with our label before she could even grab my phone.

“Trav!” William greets warmly.

“Cut the shit,” I snap. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I want the article I’m sending you pulled and whoever was behind it found, and don’t ever send masseuses to our room after gigs ever again.”

“Article gone. Wait, masseuses? I didn’t send any masseuses,” he replies.

“Well, someone over there did. I don’t care if it was a gift or a prank, don’t do it again or we’ll walk.” I hang up, staring at my girl’s wide eyes. “I told you we have your back. Nobody fucks with you.”

“That’s hot.” She nods. “I guess I should tell you that Ben sent me two people he’s worried about. I was going to go during setup and suss them out.”

“That might look weird.” Or maybe that’s my jealousy. “Give us their names, and we will. We know the crew well anyway.”

“Okay.” She nods, letting us help her, and I know how much that costs her. We want to find this person as badly as she does, and if there’s a snake in our grass, then we deserve to know who, especially if they hurt her sister and are now trying to hurt our girl. I want this to be a tour to remember, I want her to realize this is where she belongs, but someone is determined to push her away from us.

I just don’t understand who.

Have they figured out who she is, or is this something else?

The crew is checking everything over when we head into the arena after our interviews in the local city. Beck went back to relax after our urgings. It’s calmer today since everything is already set up.

It makes it easier for us to corner the one we want—Ervin. I’ve seen him around but don’t know much about him. He seems like a good guy, but who knows? I nod at the tour manager and Rachel as we pass. Chase breaks off to distract them, and Kolton goes left. I go right, searching for him. We’ll corner him then the next guy, Gill, since we know him well. I don’t believe it’s him at all, but maybe he’ll know something.

After all, we can’t be too careful when it comes to our girl.

I find Ervin stacking boxes of merch, and I grab a hoodie. “Good quality this year.”

“Oh, uh, hi.” He blinks, staring at me. “Yeah, really good.”

“How’s it going?” I ask. It isn’t strange for us to hang with the crew, so he isn’t put off.

“Yeah, pretty good. We have some newbies, but they are learning fast. It’s a lot bigger than the last tour.” He grins.

“It is.” I smile. “Newbies?”

“Yeah, the label brought them on, but they are good kids.” He nods.

“Good, any other issues?” I ask, digging.

“Nope, everything seems to be running smoothly. Why? Are you worried?” he asks. There’s no suspicion in his tone, just a friendly question. “I can help if there is.”

I smile. “No, just wanted to check in.”

He didn’t do it. I can tell. He doesn’t have a big enough reach, and he’s just way too nice. Plus, he’s been with us for a while now.

“If you have any issues, come see me, man.” I clap him on the shoulder and walk away to find the others and Gill.

I’m just passing the stage when my phone rings. A picture of Beck sticking out her tongue flashes on my screen. “Hi, beautiful, missing me?” I purr, but then I stop in my tracks.

“I need you now,” she says down the phone, panic in her voice.

“On my way, baby.”

All thoughts of Gill disappear, and I grab Chase and Kolt as we race back to the hotel. I almost break down her door to get in. I find her in nothing but a towel, her face pale as she points at her bed.

I follow her horrified look, my face contorting when I see what’s been left.

It’s written in lipstick above the bed. “Dead Ringer, the dead part, that’s for sure.”

Her lipstick is tossed on the bed, along with some pictures of her with us. I pick them up with a frown as Kolton holds her close. “They weren’t there when I went into the bathroom. That means someone came into my room while I was in the bath—in the fucking bath—and I didn’t have a clue!” she screams hysterically, and I don’t blame her.

This is fucked up, but more than that, it’s a clear threat.

Who the fuck is doing this?

Turning away, I focus on our girl since she’s our priority. “Move her stuff to our room. I’ll call hotel security and the label.”

“Come on, baby.” Kolt wraps her in his coat and leads her to our room while Chase grabs her stuff. When she’s out of earshot, he turns to me.

“What the fuck is going on, man?”

“I don’t know,” I mutter as I grab my phone, “but we are going to find out.”

“You think this shit happened to her sister?” He frowns.

“Maybe. It would make sense after hearing the tapes,” I admit, hating that she was being targeted like this and we didn’t know.

“So fucked,” Chase snaps.

I couldn’t agree more.

SIXTY-TWO

I’m still shaken, but I’m determined not to let whoever it is win. That’s what they want. I mean, who the fuck writes a serial killer message like that? The hotel is adamant nobody but housekeeping went in, and they are questioning their staff. The label is disgusted, and they keep calling me to check in, but I’m not scared. I’m pissed.

Did they do this to my sister?

When I find them, I’m going to torture them like they tortured her.

We are prepping for night two in this venue when the door to the green room opens. It’s a few hours before the show, so I expect Sanctuary or Rachel, but I blink at the couple in the doorway. The woman is older but severely put together. Her hair is perfectly coiffed, not a stray blonde hair out of place, and it’s so tightly pulled back, it drags her familiar eyes up. Her makeup is expertly applied, and she has on fucking pearls and a cardigan. I glance at the man at her side, who’s slightly older. He has graying hair and is wearing a suit.

Who the fuck are they?

“Hi, can I help you?” I ask, unsure.

The woman sniffs, looking around, but before she can speak, Chase stands. “Mother? Father?”

I swing my gaze to him and back to then, my eyes wide. These are his parents? Shit, that’s why her eyes look familiar. They stare back at me every day, but where hers are cold and dead, his are warm and filled with life.

“What are you doing here?” Chase asks, his arms crossed, and he doesn’t seem happy at all.

“That’s not a nice way to greet your parents,” the woman snaps, clearly expecting him to bow to her cold tone.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mother. Let me try again . . . What the fuck are you doing here?” he retorts.

“Chase, is everything okay?” I ask, moving closer, seeing the anger and hate in his expression.

The man’s eyes flare as he looks me over. “Chase, get rid of this . . . this groupie while we speak. You can entertain later.”

My eyes widen as I gawk, but Chase steps before me, and when he speaks, his voice is dark. “Don’t ever speak to or about Beck like that again,” he grits out. “She is our lead singer, you old bastard. Now what the hell do you want? Just say it and get out, and we can return to ignoring each other while I just send you the money you so desperately need to keep that shitty business and your lives afloat.”

My gaze swings to him in shock. He said his mom and dad weren’t nice, but I guess I didn’t understand the depth of what he meant. I’ve never heard him so angry before. Protectiveness roars through my veins as I take his hand and look straight at his father, daring him to say something.

“Typical,” he mutters. “We came to watch you play, of course, and oh, we’re also here to talk about a new venture we thought⁠—”

“Fine, whatever, take the money and go. We all know you didn’t come here to see me, just to take my cash. How much? I’ll send it to your account,” he mutters in disgust, but I hear the hurt in his voice.

“No.” I cross my arms, stepping before him. “You are here to use your son and the money he’s earned. You didn’t even ask if he’s okay or how he’s doing with his addiction. You just want to use him.” I turn to Chase. “If you want to give them money, then go ahead, it’s yours, but don’t do it just because they are making you. You shouldn’t have to pay for their love.”

He watches me carefully. “It’s just easier. They are my parents.”

“Parents are people who love you, who support you, who stand at your side. They aren’t parents, they are parasites, and you know it,” I murmur.

“Parasites? Who do you think you are?” The man hurries over with his hand raised, and before he can slap me, Chase catches his hand and shoves him away.

“I warned you,” he hisses, stepping in front of me. “She’s right, get out. You only come to see me when you need something. I’m so tired of trying to buy your love. Just get out and don’t come back.”

“Chase.” His mother frowns. “Of course we love you.”

He laughs humorlessly. “We both know that’s a lie, Mother. You love the life I provide for you. Well, it’s over. Your free ride is gone. You came here and not only insulted my girlfriend, but thought I was stupid enough to believe you wanted to see me play. You have never come to watch me play. When I was struggling and in and out of rehab, you weren’t there—my bandmates were, not you. They are my family.” Kolton and Trav move closer to Chase, offering him strength. “So get out and don’t come back.”

We watch them storm away, and when I turn to Chase, he smiles. “That felt really fucking good.” He grabs me suddenly, kissing me deeply. “My fucking pretty girl, I never would have dared to do that before. You make me brave. Your love makes me realize I deserve more.”

“You do.” I cup his face, kissing him hard. “Now let’s go out there and show them the incredible son they rejected. You don’t need them. You have us.”

Tonight was wild. The set was the best we have ever performed. Chase was on fire, as if he were showing every single person, including his parents, who doubted him just who he is. The crowd noticed it, eating up every scrap of attention, and we ride the high as we wave and bow to the screaming bodies packed so tightly together, I can’t even make out faces.

I’m following Kolt off stage when something catches the light, flying through the air. We’ve had bras, panties, flowers, and empty plastic cups thrown on stage, but this thing catches the light—a broken bottle. My eyes widen, but I can’t duck in time, and the impact knocks me into Kolton.

Sharp, sudden pain blooms over my face as I cup my eye, feeling something warm there. Chase and Trav instantly step in front of me, shouting, while Kolton guides me off the stage.

“Let me see,” he demands. “Beck.” His voice is pure panic.

Pulling my hand away, I wince. I can see, but it hurts all around my eye. Swearing, Kolton grabs a cloth from a trembling crew member as Trav shouts for an ambulance.

Kolton gently presses it to my eye as I wince. “Hold it there, baby.”

“I don’t need an ambulance. Someone can drive me. I’m fine,” I mutter.

“They almost took out your fucking eye,” Chase snarls. “I’m going out there to find who⁠—”

I grab his hand, wincing at the sudden movement. “Please, stay with me,” I whine.

He softens like I knew he would. “Of course, beautiful, I’m here.”

“What happened?” Rachel asks as she hurries over.

“Someone threw a bottle,” I mutter.

“Fuck!” she exclaims. “Get her to the car now. She needs to see a doctor. If any glass got in her eye, she could lose it.”

I start to panic as Rachel barks orders into her phone, but Kolton takes my arm after I refuse to let him pick me up and helps me toward the rear exit. I can feel the guys’ worry, so I try not to wince, but each step sends agony radiating through my face.

Lose my eye? Fuck, what if I do?

“Should I clear the groupies from the green room?” the crew member asks as he stops us near the door.

I freeze, covering my face with the cloth. “Groupies?”

He blushes, seeming ashamed. “We were told to let six or so VIP girls back there. Um . . . groupies.”

“What the fuck?” Chase tosses his hands up. “Yes, get rid of them and don’t ever let any of them come back there again.”

Trav ignores everyone and picks me up. “I can see you hurting, beautiful, so please just let me help.”

I nod, snuggling into his arms. It’s clear he’s worried and annoyed, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good to be carried.

I can see flashes as we cross the parking lot, but I bury my face into his neck, and he covers it. “Almost there. Hold onto me, baby. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”

I believe him, but who threw the bottle?

“You’ll be fine. There’s no damage to your retina or eye, and we have sealed the cut. It will heal by itself, and I don’t think it will even scar. Your eye, however, will swell and turn black,” the doctor explains as he wheels his chair backwards.

We are at a private clinic. The wound was cleaned and checked for glass before I was X-rayed, scanned, and had blood taken. It all seemed over the top, but I don’t complain while my bandmates vibrate with fury and worry. They’ve scared nearly everyone from the building, and even the doctor isn’t immune to their glares.

“She needs pain relief,” Trav snaps.

“Of course.” The doctor nods. “And ice packs will help, but I’m afraid it will just take time.”

“What about creams or something? Money isn’t a fucking option,” Chase demands.

“Guys, stop, I’m fine.” I hold up my hand to stop them. “Please, I’m tired, and my face fucking hurts. Can we just go back to the hotel?”

That immediately gets their attention. “Of course. Sorry, Beck.” Kolton sighs. “Whatever you need.”

The doctor mouths, “Thank you,” at me, and I nod as he writes me a prescription, explaining to the guys what to expect. I ignore it since my head is throbbing so badly, I just want to climb into bed and sleep.

I know by now what happened will have been reported around the world. Hell, people probably even filmed it, so hopefully it means we’ll catch who did it—not to mention they probably saw Trav carrying me and the guys’ worry so rumors will start, but right now, I don’t even care.

When they come over, I lean into them, needing their strength and warmth. The adrenaline from the performance has worn off, leaving me in shock and pain, but I force myself to walk out of the clinic, and when we are back at the hotel, I change and climb into bed at the guys’ urgings.

They tuck me in with some water and the pain pills then slide in next to me.

“Sleep, Beck. We’ll find out who did this, and they’ll pay,” Chase murmurs softly, kissing my uninjured side. “Sleep, beautiful.”

“I’m not pretty right now,” I mutter, the pain meds kicking in.

Wow, they are some good meds.

Shit meds… Chase, but he doesn’t seem bothered by them.

“You are always beautiful, pretty girl, no matter what,” he promises as he kisses me again, this time under the bandage over my eye. “Sleep.”

SIXTY-THREE

Iwait until my girl is asleep, and then I leave her nestled between Trav and Kolton. I head to my room and send off a text. Rachel arrives within minutes, and I slam the door, pacing before her as she sits on the couch.

“How’s Beck?” she asks, worry in her tone.

“She didn’t lose her eye, but she will have a black eye for a while. She’s sleeping right now.” I turn to face her. “Did you find who did it?”

“Not yet.” She sighs, scrubbing her face. “We’re looking⁠—”

“Look fucking harder. There were thousands of phones and angles. Find who fucking did it!”

“You don’t need to shout, Chase.” She frowns. “We want the same thing. I’m here to help.”

“So fucking help!” I roar in her face, watching her recoil in horror and fear. I’ve never scared a woman before, but she’s on the receiving end of my anger. It’s her job to protect us and she failed. Because of that, the person I care about most in this world is hurt. “Find who did this, I mean it. We won’t be back on stage until you do . . . until she’s safe.”

“Chase.” She reaches for my arm, but I step back. “Beck is safe—you all are—it was just an accident.”

“An accident? She could have lost an eye,” I seethe, stepping close to her so she sees my fury. She gulps and steps back. “I mean it. We won’t go near a stage until she is safe and we have answers. Go. Now.” Grabbing her bag, she squeezes past me but stops at the door.

“I’m sorry, Chase. I really am.”

“Sorry doesn’t make it better,” I retort, and she nods. Her head is ducked, but I see her tears. No doubt I will feel bad about that later, but right now, I’m too angry to care. Someone dared to attack my girl right in front of us, on stage, where she should be safe. We have been hunting for someone who hurt her sister, and we thought it was just mind games—horrible, but not physical.

What if we were wrong?

What if our girl is in real danger?

The thought makes my heart squeeze with a terror I have never felt before.

I can’t lose her.

I have to calm down before I go back to my girl. She doesn’t need that kind of energy around her while she’s healing. My skin itches with the need to get high, but I ignore it like I always do. It’s become easier, but some days are harder than others. I’ve noticed that it’s harder when Beck isn’t around.

Instead, I grab my phone, and despite the fucking backlash I’ll get, I put out a statement on our social media condemning what happened. Then, on my personal account, I upload a picture from last night with Beck lying at my side in bed. I need to see her there and let people know she’s mine and that if they fuck with her, they fuck with me.

It’s only then I notice the blood specks on my hands. I hurry to the shower in my room and wash it all away, putting on my comfiest clothes so they don’t irritate her, and then I head back to her room. Trav rolls so I can slip in next to her, no doubt sensing I need it, and I carefully pull her into my chest.

She makes an adorable little noise but soon goes back to sleep, the meds they gave her knocking her out. For a moment, my eyes catch on the bottle before I jerk them down to her.

“Well?” Kolton murmurs from her other side.

“I told them we won’t go back on stage until we have answers,” I reply without an ounce of shame. I made that decision for the band. I hope that’s okay, but I can’t take it back.

“Good.” Kolt nods. “Hopefully, that will kick their asses into gear.”

“I can’t believe that even happened,” Trav mutters. “I want to kill someone.”

“Me too,” I agree.

“Do we think it was random, like an accident, or do you think whoever is behind all this shit did it?” Kolton asks.

“That’s the question, isn’t it? The label should be doing more to protect Beck.” We all quiet down when she sighs. Placing a gentle kiss on her cheek, I settle down with her. “Hopefully, we’ll have answers soon. If not, this might be a very short tour.”

“That’s okay with me. She comes first.” Kolton nods.

“First,” Trav agrees.

Despite everything we have done to make this tour happen, we all realize right then that we would give it all up to keep her safe.

SIXTY-FOUR

Iwake up groggy. My face hurts like a son of a bitch, and the lights are way too bright. The room dims, and I blink. One eye is swollen shut, which isn’t surprising, and I force myself to sit up. Kolton watches me worriedly as he hurries back from shutting the blinds. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” I joke, but his face falls. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Oh, the doctor said to give this to you first thing before food.” I take the pills with the water he offers, and then he holds out an ice pack. “And to ice it to help with the swelling.”

“Thanks, babe.” I sit up against the headboard, pressing the ice pack to my eye. “What time is it?”

“Trav and Chase just went to get food. They won’t be long.” His hands wring nervously, and my one good eye narrows.

“Kolton,” I prompt.

“Um, just after eleven,” he answers.

“Shit, we need to be at the arena!”

He leans in, kissing me into silence. “You need to rest. Besides, we aren’t performing tonight.”

“What? Why?” I ask, panicking, dropping the ice pack. “Because of me? No, please, I’m sorry.”

“Beck.” He stops me, taking my hands. “You were hurt, and that is unacceptable. We’ve made that clear, and until they find who did this and the label protects you, we won’t be performing.”

“What? No!” I respond, aghast. “You’ll lose everything we worked for⁠—”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re the only thing that does.” My heart melts, but I smack his chest, and when Trav and Chase sneak in with food, I swing my pointer finger to them.

“No, fuck this. They don’t get to win. We are performing tonight, and that is final.”

“Baby—” Chase starts.

“No, I won’t let them win. Do you hear me? Let them stare, let them think they cowed me, but I’m going back up on that stage and we are playing. All those fans are coming out to see us, and it’s not fair to punish them. We’ll do the gig while they search for who did it. They’ll eventually find them, and then we’ll move on.”

“And your face?” Trav snaps.

“It will heal.” I soften. “But I refuse to hide. This is too important, this tour, this band.”

“You really care,” Chase murmurs.

“Of course I care. I was there with you, practicing day and night. This might have started as something else, but I’m here now. This is my band and my tour, and one idiot will not ruin it. We’ll go out there, and we’ll show them that. We’ll show them that we love our fans enough to perform, even after what happened. We’ll show them we aren’t afraid. We’ll show them that we are Dead fucking Ringers.”

“I’m turned on right now,” Trav comments, making me grin. “But if you say so.”

“I do.” I put the ice pack on my face. “Now, did you bring me breakfast? And who is helping me wash?” I wiggle my eyebrows despite the pain. “The doctor said it might help.”

The guys have been so caring with me today. Chase helps me wash without even copping a feel, and then he brushed and dried my hair while Trav fed me snacks. Kolton keeps me up to date with my meds and ice packs. I don’t even know where he’s pulling them from at this point, but they help, so I’m not complaining.

When it’s time to do my hair and makeup, I decide to style my hair as normal. I can’t put any makeup on my eye, so I do minimal on my face, just enough to bring me to life. It’s a stark contrast to how I normally look, but I refuse to be ashamed. I wear the bruises proudly.

They won’t stop me.

The screams when we take the stage that night are deafening, and I cry at all the banners and signs made out to me. All day, there has been an outpouring of love online and in real life as fans, celebrities, and even talk shows discuss what happened.

Reign texted me to tell me she would stab a bitch, and Fallon texted me too, discussing what happened and checking in. I’m not alone, and I’ll show this sad fucker that as I perform with my band.

As I look out at the crowd, I know it’s worth it. Whatever happens, this is where I belong.

Nobody can take that from me.

The guys are in the green room, and I promised them I would be right back. I had to fight tooth and nail just for them to let me zip back to the tour bus to grab something, but when I turn around, I find Rachel waiting for me in front of the closed door.

“Rachel, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just want to see how you’re doing,” she replies, but there’s a slightly manic look in her eye. “The guys said they weren’t performing anymore. I almost lost my job.”

“I’m sorry about that. They overreacted. I’m okay. Sore, but I’ll live.” I smile, heading over. We had a rocky start, but Rachel and I get along now. Her priority is this band, so it’s no wonder she’s upset.

She swallows as she stares at me. “It can’t happen.” I frown, unsure what she’s talking about, and she laughs bitterly. “This band is my entire life. I lost my fiancé because of how much I work. I’ve built it from the ground up. They are mine, and so is this band. We can’t have it threatened. Don’t you see?”

“Have you been drinking?” I can smell it on her. I mean, I don’t blame her at all. I couldn’t imagine doing her job, since it seems so stressful, not to mention the added pressure, but it seems unprofessional, especially since it’s not my fault and she’s ranting at me.

She drags her hand through her hair, and I frown, my blood turning to ice in my veins. “Rachel, what happened to your hand?”

There’s a scabbed cut on her palm that’s long and deep.

“Oh, nothing.” She waves it off, but I grab her hand, ignoring her hiss, and turn it over.

“That’s a cut, maybe from a bottle?” I ask, throwing her hand away. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me that’s not true and I’ll believe you.”

She stares at me before she finally rolls her eyes. “Fuck it. Fine, I threw the bottle. Are you happy?”

“Why?” I ask, sadness filling me.

She was someone I trusted.

“I just couldn’t stand seeing you up there, all over them. You’re a fucking nobody, and you came in here and changed everything. Before you arrived, I was their friend. I was at their side. Now, I’m nobody to them. They cast me aside for you, so I got mad, okay? You weren’t supposed to get hurt, but I guess I’m a good shot.” The smile she gives me is full of malice, and the bad feeling I got when I first met her resurfaces.

You should always trust your gut.

First impressions are usually right, I know that, so why did I give her a second chance just so she could sink her nails into me?

“It’s been you,” I piece together. “All along.”

“What is?” she scoffs.

“You’re the one sending the emails, flowers, and threats, all out of jealousy and possessiveness over people who don’t belong to you. They are people, Rachel, not your playthings,” I snap as I move closer, but she doesn’t back down. “It was you before as well, wasn’t it? With my sister.”

“She was a bitch,” Rachel snaps.

“I never told you who my sister was,” I sneer.

Her nostrils flare as she realizes she fucked up. Victory and heartache fill me.

“Fine, yes, I know who you are. I knew from the moment I saw you, Summer Leroy.” I blink at her. “I saw your picture with your sister once. You’re the same. You changed your hair and got tats, but you’re still the same. Plus, I looked into your background. You didn’t hide it as well as you thought.”

“What did my sister ever do to you?” I whisper. I thought I would feel victorious when I confronted the person who pushed her over the edge, but I just feel sad.

“She got in the way,” Rachel snaps. “She was weak, and she was bringing this band down. I just gave her the helping hand she needed with some threats here and there. She was so easy to break.”

Grabbing her, I slam her into the counter. “She was a person, a fucking person who deserved love and kindness, not this spite and cruelty simply for getting in your way.”

“She was nothing, just like you, just like every single one of you,” she sneers in my face, madness in her gaze. “I didn’t push her off that bridge, but I sure as fuck wish I did. She caused me so much trouble after—” I slam my fist into her face.

The sick satisfaction of seeing her lip split doesn’t override my anger and grief as I stumble back, staring at the stranger—one we trusted.

Licking the blood from her lip, she looks me over. “Do the guys know who you are?”

I make a split-second decision and shake my head. If she was crazy enough to do this, then there is no telling what she’ll do. No, I won’t put them in danger.

“Good, keep it that way.” Her tongue disappears as she watches me. “So now, Summer—I mean Beck, we have a problem, which is you. I suggest you go away.”

“If I don’t?” I retort.

“Then I’ll tell the whole world who you are. Not only that, I’ll expose all your sister’s shit—her depression, her spirals. I have enough to destroy you, destroy all of you.”

If it was just me, I would stay, but she could hurt the guys’ and my sister’s reputations.

For a moment, I want to fight, but then I slump. “You want me gone?”

“Yes, but don’t just disappear or they’ll look. Tomorrow, at the next gig, walk off mid-set, make it clear, then disappear. If I catch wind of you after that, then it will all come out—every sick thing you did, every darkness your sister had, and let’s not forget everything I have on the guys. You would all be ruined.”

“And so would what you worked for,” I retort.

“Who cares? If it’s between that or letting you ruin it, so be it. I’ll just be the manager who was stuck with a bad band. Now, do we have a deal?” As I stare into her eyes, I have to bite back my fury.

Now is not the time.

I can’t win like this.

Not yet anyway.

“Fine, I’ll go tomorrow.”

She smirks at me, prodding her lip. “Have a good night, Beck. It will be your last one here.”

I watch her go, my heart in my throat, and a sick feeling churns in my stomach.

I’m going to break the guys’ hearts, but it’s better than ruining everything they have worked so hard for.

No, it’s better this way.

I never really belonged.

I’ll go, leaving nothing but a sad, bad memory behind.

I guess my sister and I really are the same person.

SIXTY-FIVE

Idon’t go back to the green room. I can’t face them, not right now. Rachel leaves, knowing she’s won, and I sink onto our bed at the back of the bus. My hands clench the bedding that smells like all of us, a scent I’ll miss.

My eyes rove around the bus, and even though I haven’t been in here with them long, it felt like home. It felt safe. I was wrong.

I can’t let them lose everything for me.

They’ll hate me, but hopefully, one day, they will understand I’m doing this for them. I know I don’t have much time, but I can’t seem to move. Everything’s happening so fast, I barely have time to think, never mind breathe.

I do the only thing I can when I feel like this—I grab my sister’s tape and flop back onto the bed. “Did you go through this?” I whisper as I stare at the bus’s ceiling where we stuck glowing stars, one for each of us. “I feel so alone.”

I pick a tape at random. There are still so many, I haven’t gotten through all of them yet.

“Hey, Sum.” There’s a pause and a sniffle. “I guess you know I’m feeling low right now, hence me speaking to you. Well, speaking to you like this and wishing it were really you. I’m just so . . . I’m so lost, Summer. You always said I had a way of finding trouble, and I guess you were right. You were always the smart one, and right now, I need that intelligence. I don’t know what to do. I just . . . I just miss you so much on nights like this. I stare at the stars in whatever city we are in, and I wonder where you are. I wonder if you are staring at them too, thinking of me like I’m thinking of you.”

I want to scream.

“Maybe one day, we’ll be under the same stars. That’s what I hope anyway, but until then, Sum, know that wherever I am, I’m with you. Whatever happened, whatever we said, it doesn’t matter. You’re my sister, and I love you, and I’m with you.”

Somehow, I picked the exact tape I needed to hear. My sister would forgive me for walking away, for giving up on revenge. She would forgive me as long as I knew it was the right decision. She would trust me, even when we broke each other’s hearts. She left me all alone to follow her dreams, but I let her go.

I let her go and said nothing. It’s in that moment I realize that night, she looked back, but not out of sadness or anger.

It was hope. She hoped I would stop her.

Hoped I would come.

Hoped I would still love her, even if we weren’t right next to each other.

There’s noise outside the bus, noise I recognize without hesitation—my guys. My heart clenches.

Will they see the truth on my face?

Can I hold it together?

Can I look into their eyes and break their hearts?

Their voices break me from my thoughts, and I carefully pack my sister’s tapes away as they enter the bus.

Chase grins at me. “Hey, pretty girl, what happened?”

I can’t speak, or I’m afraid I’ll just scream or cry, so instead, I get up and head straight to him, grabbing his face and kissing him. When I pull back, I look at Kolton and Trav. “I need you.” It’s all I can say.

Trav frowns. “You have us, always.”

“You’re dumb.” Chase smirks as he backs me toward the bedroom. “She means she needs us inside her. Riding the high, pretty girl?”

I nod, unable to speak, but he doesn’t notice, thank fuck.

Chase grabs me, kissing me softly, but I don’t want soft.

I want it to hurt. I want them to remind me I’m here and that they are mine, even if it’s just for tonight. I want it to last forever. Grabbing him, I turn us and push his chest. He tumbles back to the bed, grinning at me as I climb on, yanking off my clothes before kissing him, ignoring the pain it causes in my face.

Nothing else matters right now. Only this.

Only them.

Only us.

“Whoa, pretty girl,” he says, pulling away. “We have all night. Hell, we have the rest of our lives.” He grins so sweetly.

I swallow the pain in my throat. “I need you,” I say as hands slide into my hair and turn my head to meet Trav’s narrowed gaze. He senses something is wrong, so I grab his cock through his pants and kiss him, distracting him. I don’t want to spend my night crying or fighting.

I want to spend it in their arms so I can gather enough pleasure and courage to make it through the next few days without them.

Luckily, Trav relents, kissing me back, as I feel Chase’s lips slide up my chest to my neck and then back down. His talented lips wrap around my nipple and suck until I gasp into Trav’s mouth. He deepens the kiss as he pushes me back, and I find myself on the bed between him and Chase. Their hands slide across my skin like a promise, and it brings tears to my eyes, but I swallow them back, biting Trav’s lip.

Kolton’s hands join in, sliding up my legs and parting them as his fingers play with my pussy, stroking me until I moan.

My heart aches, my chest is tight, and my eyes sting, but I don’t let it show. Instead, I let them carry me away until I need more. Gripping Kolton’s hand, I tug him up, pulling away from Trav’s mouth as I roll onto my back, my legs falling open.

Kolton takes the hint and buries his head between my thighs, making me cry out as two mouths wrap around my nipples, causing my back to arch off the bed. Pleasure spills through my body as they work together. I rock my pussy into Kolt’s waiting mouth, suffocating him, but he pulls me closer. He lashes my clit with his tongue before dipping inside me, eating me fast and hard. Mouths tug on my nipples, and the pleasure shoots straight to my clit until I can’t take it.

I explode, coming with a cry.

Kolt kisses my pussy and moves away, and then Chase tugs me to my knees and lifts me, slamming me down on his dick. The sharp pain makes me gasp, but I love it. I need more. He leans me back, fucking me as he does, his lips finding mine. No words are spoken, but I don’t need them. I couldn’t speak even if I tried or I might scream. Instead, we communicate with our bodies as he lays me back, fucking me into our bed.

I turn, giving him my back as he pounds into me, my sore face pressing into the bedding. Good. This way, they can’t see my tears. The pain reminds me that this is real and they are mine.

I reach for the others, needing all of them, needing them to chase away my fear and heartache, and like I pulled an invisible string, they come to me.

Chase helps lift me, and Trav slides below me, embracing me in their arms as his cock prods my ass. I don’t help; I can’t. I let them maneuver me until he pushes inside my body. The sharp stretch is painful, but the pain is good. It helps me relax and push back my tears, letting me focus on them.

If this is the last time I can have them, then I want to make the most of it.

Trav just holds me there, my ass wrapped around his cock, as Chase pounds into me from above. His jaw is tight with tension, and his eyes are dark with hunger as he fucks me.

“You’re so fucking ours, pretty girl,” he growls, lifting one of my legs. The new position causes Trav to slide deeper, and I gasp. “I love coming back to our room every night, knowing you are all ours. You’re our home.”

Fuck, it hurts.

I turn my face away and find Kolton, kissing him as Chase spills praise as he fucks me. Each word breaks my heart even more, though he is oblivious.

Pleasure mixes with pain until I choke on both, and I feel Chase jerking, his hips stuttering, and I know he’s close. I want to scream. I want to fight to keep him inside me forever, but he groans and spills inside me.

Leaning down, he places a soft kiss over my breaking heart. “Love you, pretty girl,” he murmurs, dazed from pleasure.

A hiccup breaks free, but they don’t comment.

Chase falls back, groaning, and Kolton takes his place, slamming me down on his cock as Trav works deep into my ass, finally starting to move. Their hands caress my body between them.

Good, let them.

It’s all theirs, at least for tonight.

My heart is also all theirs and always will be.

I wake up and show them that.

I move with them, reaching up to kiss Kolton as I push back to take Trav deeper. The bus rocks with the force of our fucking.

“Fuck, baby,” Trav pants into my ear. “You feel so fucking good. You get so tight when he’s in your cunt. Your ass feels too good.”

My heart skips a beat, and my pussy clenches down, and they both groan. The fire in me roars back to life, and the inferno blocks out anything else. I’m grateful. I lose myself in the flames and their bodies.

I lose track of it all until I can’t stand it.

I shatter for them, exploding into a million broken pieces they can never put back together.

My pleasure claims theirs. Trav moans in my ear as he fills my ass with his cum, and Kolton cries out, filling my pussy. Maybe it’s gross, but I want to keep those parts with me, even when I leave.

Chase crawls over, kissing me as we come down.

When the pleasure subsides, all that’s left is pain.

We collapse together in our bed, their arms and legs circling me, and in the dark, I let my tears slide down my cheeks, knowing it will be the last time I have them.

It doesn’t take them long to nod off, but I can’t do anything except lie here until I force myself from their embrace and sit on the edge of the bed.

Watching them sleep, I wrap my arms around myself, wanting to reach for them but knowing I have done enough damage. They promised to walk this road with me, but I have to do this alone. My eyes land on the tapes then as I realize I’m not alone.

Not really.

I’m walking the same path as my sister, and I know she’s here, ready to stand at my side when no one else can or will.

“Goodbye,” I whisper to them. “Please don’t hate me.”

It’s the one thing I never thought I would care about, but it’s the one thing I care about most in the world.

I love them with everything I have in me.

I love them enough to walk away.

I love them enough to give up on my revenge.

I love them.

SIXTY-SIX

Beck is quiet today. We’ve noticed, and we’re worried. She barely touched her breakfast, and during sound check, she seemed lifeless. We traveled during the night so we arrived at the arena bright and early for setup. We are only doing two nights here, so we don’t bother with a hotel. We all prefer the bus anyway because being crammed together with our girl?

Heaven.

Right now, though, Beck is suffering, and I don’t know what to do to make it better. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to talk about it, and I know better than to push Beck when she’s feeling like this. She will just close down. No, we have to give her time and show her we’re here.

Like last night, she was almost feral when she used our bodies. We let her because we would give her anything she needs. I worry it’s shock or other emotions after she was attacked on stage, but deep down, I know it’s more than that. It’s something Beck Danvers feels she has to fight alone, which I hate.

She fights all our battles with us, proudly at our sides, but when she faces them herself, she stands alone, as if she expects no one to be there despite how much we have proven we will be. Instead, I give her little reminders that we are here and that whatever she is going through, she doesn’t have to go through it alone. I stay at her side and make sure she’s eating, drinking, and taking her meds. I don’t give her time to overthink whatever is happening. I reach for her all day, and although she accepts my touch, it feels like she is already gone.

That thought haunts me as we prepare for our first gig in this arena. We can hear the screaming fans as we wait in the wings to take to the stage, and she slips her hand into mine. My eyes cut to hers, and she smiles, but it seems sad.

“I love you, Kolton.” I blink as she leans up and presses a kiss to my cheek. “I need you to know that.” She rushes onto the stage, leaving me even more confused as a bad feeling consumes me.

I take the stage like normal, though, and she seems fine. She talks and laughs with the crowd, and it loosens me up enough to play.

We are just finishing up “Die, Loser,” when I see her glancing off into the wings, and something about it raises the hair on the back of my neck. She misses her cue as we go straight into the next song, and Chase and I share a look.

She rolls her lips as she glances out at the audience, her guitar falling to her back. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore,” she calls into the mic, and then she turns and runs off stage.

She turns, and for a moment, she looks at each of us. I see something in her eyes I can’t name before she turns and flees off stage.

I stand there, my heart freezing before it cracks and shatters into a million pieces.

Dropping my guitar, I rush after her.

After fighting through crew and staff with the guys at my back, we burst out into the air and cross the parking lot to the bus, only to find it empty.

She’s gone, and so is her stuff.

She left like she was never here, not even leaving a trace of her, bar a tape on the bed.

I walk over in a daze, the fans’ screams echoing around even out here, and see the label across the top.

For my loves, forgive me.

Trav

I don’t know how long we search for Beck, but it’s obvious she’s just . . . gone. Just as she randomly appeared in our lives, she left the same way. Panic pounds through me as my heart breaks, the pain causing each breath to feel like I’m being stabbed in the chest.

My panic overrides everything else, even over Rachel’s anger as she has to announce the show is canceled mid-concert without giving an explanation. The fans are in an uproar, screaming for us outside of the arena, but I don’t care.

Beck is all I care about.

What happened?

Why did she run?

Was it something we did, or was it something else?

Hours later, when it’s evident she’s not just hiding in the arena somewhere, and hundreds of ignored phone calls and texts later, I stare down at the tape, running my fingers across it.

“Why did she leave?” I lift my head to see Chase pacing. He’s gone past hurt, and now, he’s pissed, but even over his anger, I still see heartbreak in his eyes. “Why didn’t she speak to us? She just fucking left.” He smashes his fist into the wall, wincing as he splits his knuckles open, but he seems to relish the pain. “Like we were nothing, like she didn’t fucking care, like it was easy.”

“You’re mad,” I comment dryly. “I get that, but I’m worried, Chase. This isn’t like Beck.”

“Isn’t it?” he yells, interrupting me. “She appeared in our lives the same way, seeking her revenge. It’s totally her style.”

“Not anymore!” I yell, and he shrinks under my fury. “You’re hurting, but don’t ever talk about Beck like that. You know better. She stayed for us even after everything. She’s not the type to run away when things get hard. She stands up and fights, even if it hurts. Something is going on, something bigger than us, and we need to figure out what before we lose her for good.”

“What if we already have?” Kolton comments, and his voice is numb. When he looks up at us from where he’s sitting on the bunk, I notice his eyes are dead. “What if we’ve lost her like we lost her sister?”

“Do not ever fucking say that!” I yell, trying to breathe through my fear. “She wouldn’t do that to us.” I shake my head as I slump. “She wouldn’t. She knows the effect that would have. She wouldn’t do that. She loves us.”

“Loves us enough that she left without an explanation,” Chase snaps.

“Because something is wrong,” I respond cuttingly. “Stop thinking with your broken heart and, instead, use your head. All the shit that’s been happening has been building up. What if something happened to Beck that we don’t know about? What if she left for a reason?”

“She looked off stage before she left. I thought it was weird. She had been acting distant all day,” Kolton admits, some life coming back into his eyes. “She was saying something about talking to Gill before this all happened. Maybe she did. Maybe she found something.”

“I’ll call Ben,” Chase mutters, his shoulders slumping. All of us ignore the blood dripping down his knuckles. “Maybe he knows something. We can talk to Gill. If not, we can trace her steps. We’ll get her back.” He nods. “We’ll get answers.”

“And this.” I hold up the tape for them to see. “She left us this for a reason. It’s not a coincidence. She took every other trace of her, but this is something only we would understand.”

“Do we have any way to play it?” Chase asks.

“I do.” Kolton hurries to his bunk, which is empty since we all share the big bed. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that, but honestly, it’s where we were all comfortable. Rooting through a duffle bag, he pulls out an old cassette player that looks brand new. “I bought it in case Beck’s ever failed. I didn’t want her to be without her sister.”

His expression becomes somber as he looks down at it before handing it over. Chase takes it and hooks it up to the speakers so we can all listen, and I put the tape in. I place my hand over my aching heart. Will the pain ever go away?

I hope not because it makes me think of her.

When her voice comes, it’s soft and sad, and that only makes the pain worse, knowing she was suffering and we were right there, not seeing it. “You guys are asleep right now, so I have to be quiet.” She chuckles sorrowfully. “I’m going to miss the sound of your snoring. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to sleep alone again. You guys have ruined me.” There’s a pause, and she takes a deep breath. “I know you guys have questions, and if you’re listening to this, then I’m not there, and it’s okay to be angry and questioning everything, but⁠—”

“Baby,” Chase calls sleepily in the background.

“Coming!” she replies, and we all hear the smile in her voice. Not a moment later, the snoring starts again. “I hope you can all forgive me. I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t. Just please trust me. It might take everything you have, but trust me this once. This isn’t the end, not for us, not forever. Just for now. There’s so much I want to tell you, but the words won’t come, so instead, have this.”

There’s no music, no guitar, just her soft, crooning voice as she sings to us.

My love, so deep like an ocean.

They took a broken heart and healed it.

Soft, stolen touches, kisses just our own.

They made me theirs, and that’s the way I’ll stay.

No, I can’t say goodbye. I can’t say it’s over.

But I can say I love you.

Every stolen joke, every bitter argument, they fill me up.

No, I can’t say goodbye, but I can say I love you.

The song carries on, bringing tears to my eyes.

When she finishes, we hear a deep breath. “Trust me,” she whispers before the tape cuts out, leaving us all in shocked, confused silence.

What is Beck Danvers up to?

SIXTY-SEVEN

My bag was already packed before the show. I sneaked back and did it, knowing I wouldn’t have long to grab it and go. If they caught me, they never would let me go, and I wouldn’t be strong enough to rip myself from their arms.

I grabbed it and ran, wearing a huge coat to cover my outfit. The taxi driver gave me a worried look but said nothing as I had him drop me off in the middle of the outskirts of the city. I don’t want anyone to find me, not yet, so I walk.

I have no direction in mind, but when I find it, I’ll know. One hand is wrapped around the cross they gave me, holding them close, while the other holds my bag. I have some of their stolen shirts in there, needing to keep them close, but I left everything else. I only took what I started with because I plan to go back. I have to. This can’t end this way.

A cold drop hits my cheek, startling me from my thoughts, and my head jerks up. I eye the pitch-black sky as it bursts open, soaking me through to my bones.

I stand under the downpour with my eyes closed and head tipped back, letting it wash me clean.

I’m alive, even as I feel like I’m dying.

I’m alive, and I won’t stop until I’m whole again.

“The world was shocked last night when Dead Ringer’s new lead singer, Beck Danvers, stormed off stage mid-set⁠—”

“Dead Ringers’ sold-out world tour is in jeopardy⁠—”

“After all the lows Dead Ringers have fought through, things were starting to look up for the once disgraced band, but could this be the end of their road to fame?”

“Dead Ringers are no stranger to tragedy and bad press after the previous lead singer⁠—”

“Where did Beck Danvers go?”

“What happened to Beck Danvers?”

“I think the most important question on everyone’s mind tonight is, will Beck Danvers ever come back?”

Turning the TV off after flipping through every news channel and seeing my name plastered everywhere, I collapse back onto the cheap motel bed. It’s an ask no questions, take no names place, which is exactly what I need at the moment—a place to lie low and decide what I’m going to do.

It’s all so fucked.

Before, no one knew who I was, and I could walk through life as a ghost. I liked that, but now, everything is crumbling down around me.

Everything is coming to the surface, one way or another.

My phone vibrates again, and without even checking my calls or messages, I switch it off, knowing the guys will hate me once the truth comes out. They know about my sister and me, but they’ll hate that I let Rachel win, that I let her manipulate me out of fear—or so she thinks. I did what she asked. The guys have no clue why I left, and I hate hurting them like this, but for my plan to work, I have to make it look real.

They say the truth sets you free, but they are all fucking liars. The truth ruins you.

Tour or no tour, I have my own person to ruin, and their truth will change everything.

Rachel will be held responsible for what she did to my sister. She might think I’m running with my tail tucked between my legs, but she’s wrong. I have my own plans.

I changed the game.

She doesn’t have a clue.

There’s a knock at the door, and I sigh in relief.

Yes, I have a plan, and it’s time to put it into motion.

SIXTY-EIGHT

It doesn’t take us long to find Gill. Whatever is happening, his name was the last one our girl was looking into. He has to have answers. He has to. I was angry earlier, and I still am, but not at her. Not really.

I’m mad at myself for not noticing her struggles. I know how well people can hide their problems. I did it for years, yet I didn’t see it in my girl.

My pretty girl is out there right now hurting and alone, wondering if she lost us.

That pisses me off even more.

She needs us, and we didn’t even see it. She was lost and alone and reaching for us, and we were blind. I want to ram my head into a wall at how stupid we were, but that won’t change anything. My own self-deprecation won’t change anything. Only actions can, and when we find our girl, we are never letting her go again.

Before Beck Danvers, all I cared about was fame, and now it all means nothing if she isn’t at my side. I would rather be in her arms, broken and forgotten, than be at the top without her.

If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.

Gill turns to us with a frown as all three of us corner him as he packs up. His eyes dart between us, but he looks worried, not guilty. He’s a short, muscular man with a shaved head and kind smile. We’ve known him for years, but I can’t take chances when it comes to my girl.

“What did you do to Beck?” I demand. Kolton puts his arm across me, holding me back when I would lash out at him.

Gill is calm, almost too calm, and rational as he steps forward.

“What do you know about Beck?”

“Um, not much. She’s your new lead singer. Is something wrong? I know she ran off stage, but they wouldn’t tell us why.” He lifts his arm, and I see a cut across it. It’s maybe a few days old.

“What’s that?” Trav asks, his voice cold.

“Oh.” He glances down with a frown. “I cut myself on the rigging a couple of days ago. Guys, what happened?”

We share a look. “You tell us,” Kolton retorts.

“I really don’t know what you mean.” He just stares at us, completely confused, and it’s then I realize he genuinely doesn’t know. No one is that good of an actor. “Is everything okay? Is Beck okay?”

“No, she isn’t,” I mutter.

He flinches. “What can I do to help?”

“Tell us what you know. Not about Beck, but about Willa. She was struggling before. Maybe you saw someone with her a lot or talking to her. Anything will help,” Kolton tells him, his voice softer. His approach is good. Whoever is behind her sister’s suffering is behind this, and if we find them, then we find our girl.

“She was always alone,” he says. “She seemed to like it that way.”

My shoulders slump. It’s another dead end. We have nothing to go on.

“Oh, but there was that reporter,” Gill exclaims, as if just remembering.

“Reporter?” I frown.

“Yeah, shit, what was his name?” He squints as if he’s racking his brain. “He was always hanging around and asking for her. She kept ignoring him and almost seemed scared of him. Shit, what was his name? Friendly eyes, brown beard⁠—”

“Ben,” I murmur.

“That’s it!” Gill grins. “Ben something. He seemed obsessed with her, but what do I know? God rest her poor soul.” He trails off, watching us. “Guys?”

I hear nothing, ice in my veins.

Ben.

Ben is behind all of this.

The very same Ben my girl trusts.

He could be hurting her right now.

Ben pushed her sister to kill herself, and now he’s going after our girl.

Fuck!

SIXTY-NINE

There was only one person I could call, only one person who would understand. I explained everything over the phone, hoping he might be able to help me dig up dirt on Rachel, because I’m going back, and when I do, I’m exposing her and the truth about what she did to my sister and me.

She won’t get away with this, and I know Ben can help me. I hit record on my phone and drop it on the bed as he knocks again, no doubt worried about standing outside the seedy motel as rain lashes the cheap windows. Hopefully, I can record everything he says so we can use it against her.

I’m almost overcome with gratitude as I swing the door open and grin at him. He smiles at me, his hair slicked back and wet from the rain. He shakes off his coat as he steps inside, stomping his boots to try, in vain, to dry them.

“Thanks for coming.” I sit down on the edge of the bed since there isn’t really anywhere else to take a seat.

He hangs his coat over the back of the wooden chair and slides his hands into his pockets as he glances around. The dim, bedside light is on, since the overhead one was so bright it gave me a headache. The peeling wallpaper leaves much to the imagination, as does the stained carpet.

Thunder cracks in the sky, making me jump, and we both glance out the window to see lightning streak across the dark sky. “Wicked storm tonight, as if it knows something.”

I nod and pat the bed.

“I’m wet.” He winces.

“Don’t worry about it. Trust me, this room can’t get much worse.” I chuckle, and he smiles as he sits at my side. “So you got my voicemail?” Stupid question since he’s here.

He frowns. “I did. I can’t believe it was your manager all along. That’s horrendous. What did she say?”

“Just what I told you, that she wanted my sister gone and pushed her out, blackmailing and hurting her. She wanted me gone as well and threatened me if I didn’t.” I sigh, tugging at the stained comforter. “Did you manage to find anything on her? I could really use something against her. I’m not letting this stand. I let her think she won, but she won’t. I can’t let her. I’m going back, and I’m going to expose her.”

“I knew you would.” He nods. “She deserves it. She didn’t say anything else?”

“Like what?” I frown, looking up at his strange tone. He sounds desperate. Is it because he loved my sister so much? I bet it hurts to finally know the truth. It cut me to my core when I realized I was right. She didn’t end it on her own. She had a helping hand.

“I don’t know, anything?” he pushes. “Are you sure?”

“Ben, what’s going on?” The hair on my arms rises as his jaw clenches and he stares at me. “Ben?” I whisper, and alarm bells ring in my head.

It’s the instinct every woman has, the one that doesn’t always work because sometimes, the bad guy isn’t the one who stabs you with the knife, but the one pulling it out.

“Ben?” I say softly as thunder rumbles, making me jump. “Maybe we should call it a night, and we can pick this up tomorrow. I can meet you at a restaurant.”

He laughs bitterly, the sound slightly manic.

I start to scoot away, ready to grab my phone and run. Those alarms blare so loudly, it’s hard to think. My instincts tell me to run. It could be nothing, but they’ve never been wrong before.

“No, we are doing this tonight,” he says as I leap to my feet, and he lifts his gaze to me. Gone is the friendly, warm expression. Gone is the friend I trusted. Now, I just see hate.

Hate and anger.

I start to back away, and he grins. His expression is sinister as he slowly gets to his feet. I swallow hard. “Ben, what’s going on?”

“I was sure she told you. She’s so fucking weak like that. I thought she told you and that’s why you called me here, but she didn’t. She was probably too scared of me, but I was sure this was an ambush. It wasn’t. You are seriously that fucking stupid.” He walks toward me as he speaks. “Did you really think Rachel could do this alone?”

My back hits the door, and I inch my hand across it for the knob. Fuck my stuff and phone, I’m out of here because I see my death in his eyes.

His hand slaps the wood next to my head, making me yelp and jump as he laughs.

My hand grabs the knob as he leans closer. “She wasn’t strong enough to do it alone. No, she had help. Me. And you called me here. You were too stupid to see what was in front of you, just like your sister.”

I rip the door open and dart outside. Rain instantly soaks me, but I barely get two steps before a hand grabs my hood and yanks me back.

The boom of the thunder covers my screams.

He pulls me against his chest, covering my mouth with his hand as we are drenched, his hot breath reaching my ear as I struggle. “Let’s talk, just you and me, huh?”

I scream and fight as he drags me back into the room. The door slams with a resounding thud, and I know I won’t be going out that door alive.

I’ll die here tonight, filled with regrets and unspoken words.

The truth will die with me.

He throws me across the room, and I smash into the lamp, plunging the room into darkness before I tumble onto the bed. Groaning, I roll to the side to get off and get into the bathroom, but he’s there. He backhands me then hauls me up the bed until I’m pinned under him. I fight in vain as he pins me down.

I hit him, bringing my knees up before he pins them without even breaking a sweat. I don’t stop fighting. I can’t. His hand hits my cheek, connecting with my bad eye as I scream once more. The sharp pain zings through me and only adds to the adrenaline pumping through my body. He watches me fight with a cocky, happy smile, and I feel his hard cock press against my leg. It causes me to freeze, and I recoil into the mattress.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

The denial is a scream in my head as I stare up at the man I trusted, the man I thought was a friend.

As I stare up into his eyes, I realize I’m not as untouchable as I thought. I was so sure of myself, of becoming Beck Danvers, a rock star. Right now, I’m just a woman, and he’s a man. He’s stronger, and he thinks he has the right to hurt me like most other men do.

In this moment, I realize just how weak I am, and I hate it.

I fucking hate it.

He takes my body and makes it his own, effortlessly using it against me, and never before have I hated being a woman as much as I do right now. I can’t even move him. I’m trapped under him, his length pressing against me since he’s excited.

I know before he finishes this, he’ll take everything from me.

He’ll ruin me completely.

“Finished fighting? It’s futile, Beck. Up on stage, you might be bigger than life, but under it all, you’re just a scared little girl—a little girl who could never beat me.” He chuckles, and thunder roars again as a traitorous tear slides down my cheek.

I hate that I’m crying. I hate that he’s touching me. I hate that I’m alone.

I hate that he’s right.

“It was storming like this the night she died. I guess you both are more alike than you thought.”

I freeze, my eyes widening as I stare at him. He chuckles, brushing away the tear. He raises his hand and licks it away as he looks at me. “I loved your sister. I was obsessed with her, or so she said. I wanted her all for myself.” He frowns in anger, his eyes flashing. “But she turned me down to focus on her career.” He brushes my cheek again before he slowly wraps his fingers around my neck and starts to squeeze. My eyes pop from my head as I jerk and start to fight again, seeing the intention in his eyes.

He squeezes until black dots fill my vision, but he seems clueless as he speaks, even as he drains the life from me. “She dared to reject me! Me! When I loved her. I would have done anything for her. In the end, she wasn’t who I thought she was. She was weak. Rachel saw that. She saw my obsession and approached me. She had no idea that my love turned to hate. I worked with Rachel to bring her down. I thought Willa would come crawling to me when she hit rock bottom and that I could save her and she would love me, but she didn’t.” He slams me into the bed in his anger as I claw at him, on the verge of passing out.

He knocks my hand away when it scratches his cheek so deeply, it draws blood. He hisses as I watch it drip down his cheek as my hand hits the bed. Something warm takes my hand, and my eyes roll to the side, my heart freezing.

Willa . . . my sister. She lies on her side next to me, her lips tipped down. She’s not real. She isn’t. I’m dying. She’s not here.

Still, it doesn’t stop me from using the last of my strength to hold her hand tightly. She smiles so brightly that something inside me cracks. “Fight,” she whispers, and suddenly, she’s gone, and it’s not a hand I’m gripping.

It’s something solid.

Something real.

I grip my phone as he sneers at me.

“I was there the night she died, you know. I was on the bridge.” He reaches for the bridge on my other arm, over the bird I got for her. “She fell just like this bird, but she was trying to back down. She wasn’t going to do it, but when she saw me, she wasn’t happy. She was annoyed, and she screamed at me. I just wanted to love her, but I realized she would never love me. She told me she couldn’t do it to them and to you. She said she was going to fight. I knew in that moment that she would never be mine. She couldn’t be. She was already yours, already taken and drained by this world. She wasn’t the woman I thought she was, and neither are you. I pushed her. I helped her over that bridge, and she flew all the way down. I saved her from everything, and now, I’ll save you too.”

Horror fills me, and as he wraps his other hand around my neck and squeezes so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t snap, I bring the phone up. It smashes into his head, and he roars, his grip loosening around my neck as he falls to the side. Gasping in air, I drag my body up even as it screams, and with clumsy hands, I bring the phone down on his head again. He yells, trying to block me as I aim at his eyes. Blood sprays over me and my phone as I scream with a sore, raw throat.

I bring the phone down again and again on his face.

Centuries of anger fills me from all the women who have ever been wronged.

My throat aches as I cough, the fit overtaking me until I can’t breathe, and he flings himself at me once more as I fight for my life. The air hurts my throat as I breathe, and I bring my hands up and dig them into his eyes as he roars, falling back just as the door bursts open.

We both jerk around to see three silhouettes. Lightning flashes behind them, and then there’s a roar, and one of them lunges forward, hitting Ben and throwing them both from the bed. The sound of fists meeting flesh makes my eyes widen as I turn to my side and cough so hard, I feel blood trickle from my lips, my phone still clutched in my fingers.

A hand touches my side, and I startle, a little noise escaping my lips as I try to shrink away.

“Baby, shh, it’s me. It’s us.” It’s Trav.

I blink, glancing up at him.

His eyes are watering, and his face is pale as he rubs my back. Another hand wipes my mouth, tugging me up, and I meet Chase’s worried eyes.

There’s a scream, and I turn, my heart hammering so fast, they must hear it.

Kolton’s face is contorted in a mask of fury, one I have never seen on face before. There are flecks of blood across his cheeks, and his eyes are wild as lightning flashes, illuminating him and his bloodstained knuckles as he yells and pummels Ben. I can’t see Ben beyond the bed, but I know he’s there.

“Kolt—” I cough, my voice cutting off.

“Kolton,” Chase snaps, and Kolton’s head jerks around, his eyes widening as he sees me. Ben is forgotten as Kolton scrambles over the bed, his anger turning to worry and love as he wraps himself around me, bloodstained hands and all.

“He killed her. He killed her,” I sob. “He killed my sister. He was going to kill me.” My words are a rough whisper, but they hear me as I sob and finally break.

In the moonlight, with a storm raging on around us, I break and let them put me back together again because I finally realized I don’t need to do this alone.

They found me.

They came for me.

I’m not alone.

The door is open.

I’m alive.

SEVENTY

Ihad forgotten my phone was still recording until the police bagged it as evidence, and then I suddenly remembered. It recorded everything—Ben’s confession and the truth. I let them know as they bustle around the motel room. We stand beyond, huddled together against the chill just outside the room, the blue lights splashing across us from below from the police vehicles and ambulance, which contains Ben.

He’s alive but badly beaten. I tell them it was self-defense after hiding Kolton’s hands.

It was all me.

They believe me, and after being checked over by a paramedic, I refuse to go to the hospital. I don’t want to be where he is. I want my men, my family, my home. My throat will bruise badly, and my voice will take a while to heal, but there’s no lasting damage. Not on the outside.

On the inside, it’s a totally different matter.

I have to live with the truth of what happened here tonight.

My sister didn’t kill herself, she was murdered, and all this time, she has been reaching into this world to lead me to her killer.

She’s dead, I can’t change that, but she didn’t want to be.

She wanted to stay. She wanted to save her life that was stolen from her.

I can’t change that, but I can change this world.

I can bring the truth to light and show them the real her—the one who chose to step off the bridge despite everything, who was fighting despite the darkness dragging her down.

I can tell my sister’s story.

I can build her legacy, her memory, so no one ever forgets her.

It will have to be enough.

Tears slide down my face unchecked as the detective stops before me. He wears a sad look on his weathered face. “You’re very lucky to be alive,” he says.

“Not lucky.” I look at my men. “Loved.”

They explain how they spoke to Gill, a member of the crew, and realized Ben was behind it all. All it took was putting some pressure on Rachel to get his phone number, and then they tracked him down using a location service. I’m impressed at how smart they were, but under all that, I’m relieved that they didn’t give up on me. They came for me even after I left them.

I might be dead if they did give up on me.

Ben would have gotten away with it, and I would have died like my sister, at his hands, fighting until the bitter end. She was alone when she died, and that breaks me, knowing no one came for her.

It fucking hurts.

It’s unfair, and I hate it.

I should have been there, she wouldn’t have been alone, but she will never be again. I make that promise to myself. I will speak of her every day. I will paint this world with her words and face so they can never forget the woman they failed.

“This is a slam dunk case. His DNA is under your nails, and you have defensive wounds, not to mention the recording. They are raiding his house right now, and I understand they found lots of pictures of you and your sister, ones taken by a stalker. There are also multiple unregistered email and social media accounts connected to her and you. He’s going away for a very long time. I know that doesn’t help right now, but I hope it will in the future. You saved yourself, Beck. You stopped this from happening to someone else.”

“Too late,” I whisper, “because it already happened to Willa.”

He nods sadly. “I know. I’m sorry.” He walks away, and I watch him go before briefly glancing at the bed. The memory of how weak I felt in that moment fills me, along with panic, and I snuggle into my guys.

“Take me home,” I demand.

“Rachel—”

“Tomorrow. Tonight, just take me home, hold me, and never let me go. Tonight, please just love me.”

“With everything in us,” Trav murmurs, kissing my head gently.

They hold me all night in the bus. We don’t speak.

They love me as I splinter apart, sobbing despite my bruised throat and aching face. I sob for what I lost.

I sob for what could have been.

I sob for the unfairness of it all.

He stole her life, her future, all because of his own sick jealousy and obsession. My sister was a person, not a name or a headline. She was a person who was struggling and surrounded by sharks. She needed help, and I wasn’t there.

I’d give it all up to have her back, but I can’t change the past, and that hurts. It hurts so much I can’t breathe. I was so angry at her when I thought she killed herself, so angry at her selfishness. I cursed her name more than once. I hated her for it when all along, she fought to come back. Guilt swallows me whole, and they hold me through it, knowing they can’t take it away.

They cry with me as the storm gives way to early morning sunshine.

My eyes are raw and red, my face is puffy, and my heart aches as I look at the dawn brightening the bus.

It’s a new day.

I refuse to waste it.

Not now.

Not ever.

This isn’t over yet.

SEVENTY-ONE

Isit tall in the chair in the office. Michael is across from us, his eyes tight and wounded. He’s already apologized a million times. My left hand clutches Kolton’s, my right holds Trav’s, and Chase sits next to Trav. We are presenting a united front.

And waiting.

I wasted no time. Despite their protests, I got up and dressed. I didn’t disguise my face or the bruise circling my neck. I displayed them—proof of the battle I fought and survived. I know they will look stark in the camera. Good. Let them be horrified, shocked, and appalled. Let them look at themselves in the mirror as the truth is revealed.

Today is the day the truth comes out, and now all we can do is wait.

The door opens moments later. I can hear her heavy breathing as she walks in and sits. The guys are surprised she came, but I’m not. Rachel thinks she can control everything, win everything. She has no idea who she went against.

I meet her eyes. She’s worried, but she smiles. “Beck, I’m so glad to see you up and around. I heard about what happened⁠—”

“Cut the shit,” I snap as she recoils.

“Beck, I don’t know what you mean.” She frowns, looking so contrite I almost believe her myself.

“You’re a good actor, I’ll give you that,” Chase snaps. “No wonder we didn’t see the fucking snake in our grass.”

“I don’t know what’s happening.” Her eyes are too tight, and her lips are flat.

I bet that she would show. She gave everything for this band, so she wouldn’t give up, and I was right.

I don’t speak. Instead, I reach over and turn on the TV. By now, the news report will be playing, so I crank up the volume. She glances from me to it, her face turning pale and mouth dropping open as she watches the interview we gave this morning.

I sit in the middle of the band, my bruises and cuts on display. I look strong, though, despite the pain in my eyes.

I crank up the volume further until my voice rings around the room, telling Rachel everything she needs to know.

I played her at her own game.

It’s over. She’s done.

The truth is out.

“There will be questions at the end, but for now, I ask you to listen. My legal name is Summer Leroy. It’s the same last name as Willa Leroy, the Dead Ringers’ previous lead singer and my sister. I joined this band to find out what happened to my sister. I know the news and coroner’s report said she killed herself, but that is incorrect. My sister was tortured, abused, blackmailed, and hurt until she was put on that bridge. Someone within the Dead Ringers’ own ranks pushed her to be there the night she died. The news has called her selfish, stupid, and naïve—everything you can imagine. It broke me. They didn’t know the little girl who would sing until her voice gave out, who only ever dreamed of the stage. She gave everything to sing, but I’m here to tell you about her now.” I smile sadly.

“A lot has been happening, as you can probably see. I was here to find the truth about my sister, and I found it. My sister was being blackmailed by the Dead Ringers’ manager, Rachel. She not only threatened my sister, but she tortured her in unimaginable ways until it pushed her over the edge. She felt like she had no one to turn to as her mental health spiraled. She wasn’t spoiled nor behaving badly. She was screaming for help, and no one bothered to check on her. Rachel is complicit in my sister’s death. My sister was going to kill herself due to the strain and heartbreak she pushed her into, but she did not kill herself. A man named Ben did. He was obsessed with my sister and working with Rachel, and when my sister didn’t return his one-sided love, he killed her and made it look like a suicide. Moreover, he joined me in trying to find the truth, manipulating me the entire time. Last night, he attacked me and tried to kill me so I couldn’t spill the truth. He didn’t win. Hate never will. I sit here not for me or for your pity, but for her, my sister, Willa Leroy.

“You saw the spoiled rock star, but I saw the little girl who sang with me while I cleaned. I saw the little girl who performed at every talent show and stared at the stars and dreamed for more, and that’s how I want her to be remembered—not for the people who killed her, but for the person she was before that and the legacy she left. My sister was a talented person, but she was a person. She was a daughter to a mother who loved her even through her illness, and she was a sister to me.” Tears fall, but I don’t wipe them away. “She was an activist, an animal lover, a writer, a singer, an artist, and a beautiful soul, so when you speak of her, speak of that. I’m here to set the record straight and tell you the truth so it can’t be distorted again. My sister was a person, and she was murdered. I miss her every single day. Thank you for listening, I hope we all learn something from this. I hope we change the way we treat others. I hope we choose love and kindness because I will.” I swallow, my bruised throat bobbing. “We will now take questions.”

“Guys, guys, did you know who Beck was?” a reporter asks.

“We did,” Chase lies, “and we supported her all the way. We still do. We stand with Beck the way we should have stood with her sister.”

“What happened to your manager?” someone calls.

“She will be arrested and fired,” Trav answers.

I turn to Rachel as she stands, her face pale.

“You’re fired,” Michael tells her, and he snaps his fingers. The door opens for the police officers, who cuff a screaming Rachel.

“I did it all for us, the label, and this band!” She fights as they drag her out, but my eyes turn to the screen, and I refocus on the questions.

“So what’s next for the Dead Ringers?” another asks.

I smile. “Hopefully an uneventful tour in honor of my sister.”

They laugh with me at that as I turn the TV off and face Michael. “Here is where this is going to go. Your label will put out a public apology. You will admit to your neglect of my sister and condemn everything. All the money earned during this tour will go to my sister and the legacy I am setting up for her. You will beg for forgiveness for not helping her, and you will never let this happen again.” I peer at him through my lashes. “You will also support everything we do on this tour and in the future.”

“You . . . You’re staying?” Michael rasps, no doubt worried about losing his rock stars, but I saw genuine pain this morning when we told him the truth. No matter what, he didn’t kill my sister or do this, but he turned a blind eye whether he knew it or not, and he has to live with that, just as we do.

The blame lies with all of us and will until the end.

We failed her, but we won’t again.

“This is my home.” I look at the guys. “It’s where I feel closest to my sister and my dream. I’m staying. I’m a Dead Ringer.”

I’m a Dead Ringer, just like she was.

Just like she will always be.

They say the truth sets you free, and in a way, it does, but I don’t soar free like she did right now. I’m stuck on Earth until the day I get my wings and meet her in the stars.

I can’t wait for that day, but until then, I will live and love so deeply, she would be proud.

I will make both of our dreams come true.

For her.

SEVENTY-TWO

Beck wanted to play the very next show, but the truth is, she needed time to rest, whether she knew it or not, so we flew home for two weeks to allow her voice to heal and give her time to deal with what happened. She can’t repress it, and I don’t want her to. The label is letting us do whatever we want since they failed when it came to this band. The fans are understanding—well, most are—and the news has been filled with Beck’s interview and memorials for her sister.

The love for her is incredible, but it’s a lot, and Beck spends most of her time offline and without the TV, writing songs with Chase or sleeping. It’s worrying how much she sleeps, though, so one day, I call Reign for some advice. Her bruises are fading, but I know there are others that are deeper. I have spent my life with my own trauma, and I don’t want that for Beck.

I want her to be able to heal. After everything she has been through, she deserves to be happy.

“Hey, Trav, where’s hot stuff? Is she okay?” Reign answers immediately. Her and Beck speak almost daily, and I’m glad for it. Reign, along with Fallon, have become Beck’s good friends, and I’m so happy she has other people to talk to.

“She’s swimming with Chase right now.” I watch her through the window before turning away. “I need your help.”

“Sure, who are we burying?”

“Why is it always murder with you people?” I mutter.

“Do I need my gun or knife?” I hear Dal call, and Reign giggles.

Smiling, I shake my head. “No, Beck is . . . She’s struggling, not that she would tell anyone. She doesn’t know how to ask for help, but I want to give it to her. I just don’t know how. I know you are open about talking to a therapist, and I wondered if it would work for Beck.”

“It could,” Reign answers. “It’s worth a shot. Honestly, talking really helps. I’ll give you their number, but let her decide, Trav. It only works if she’s ready to talk about it. If not, try talking to her yourself. Sometimes all you need is to be heard. She’s been through a lot, so give her time and just be there for her.”

“When did you get so smart?” I mutter.

“I was always smart. People just didn’t want to see it.” She laughs. “I have to go. Dal and I are playing.”

“I don’t even want to know.” I hang up and glance at the number she sends me, debating what to do.

It’s true Beck’s struggling, but would talking help? I honestly don’t know, but I know she can’t bottle this up.

One thing I have noticed is Beck’s new aversion to hoodies. I handed her my hoodie one night when she said she was cold, and she went so pale, I swear she almost fainted. I don’t know what happened, and I won’t pull it from her. Instead, we quietly got rid of every hoodie we could find in the house and bus so she never feels that again.

Hoodies are overrated anyway.

But everything can’t be solved that way.

She strolls in as if my thoughts called her. She’s smiling brightly, her eye and throat healed, wearing nothing but a black string bikini, and my cock stands at attention. Desire fills me whenever I’m with her. We’ve been connecting a lot, since it seems to help her, and I’d let her use me in whatever way she wants as long as she’s happy, but right now, I want to throw her over the counter just as much as I want her smile to be full.

“We need to talk,” I blurt out, and her eyebrows rise.

“I didn’t put the dye in your shampoo. That was Chase,” she calls without missing a beat as she heads my way and melts into my arms. I wrap mine around her, holding her close. It’s all I can do. I nearly lost her, and sometimes, I wake up, unable to breathe with the idea that I have.

Maybe we are all healing.

She pulls back, and I cup her cheek before sliding my hand around her neck. She flinches, and I quickly pull away, but she tugs my hand back and leans into my touch with a soft smile. “So, what’s up, baby?”

I stare at her for a moment, unable to think or speak. She’s so beautiful.

“Trav?” She grins wider as I shake my head.

“Sorry, you blinded me for a minute,” I tell her without shame. “I know you’re struggling.” Her smile slowly fades. “I won’t ask you to talk if you don’t want to, but between your mom, your sister, and what happened, I think you are trying to move forward without really dealing with everything. I know, I did the same thing, and it only bit me in the ass. I want you to be happy, Beck. That’s all I want, and if you say you are, I’ll let it go, but I have a therapist’s number if you want to talk to someone. If not, we are all here and will do anything you need.”

“I am dealing,” she admits slowly, “in my own way. I don’t want to talk to a therapist. It’s just not who I am. It works for some people, but that isn’t for me.” I nod. I didn’t know if it would be, but I had to try. “But I hear you, Trav. I do.” She sighs, leaning into me. “Some days it’s just so hard. I miss her so much that I feel guilty about being happy, you know? But I’m trying. It’s going to take time, but it’s enough, and having all of you here with me helps. Just be here for me.”

“Always,” I promise as I kiss her softly. “In whatever way you need. You have us, Beck. You had us from the first moment you stepped on that stage, and you will have us forever.”

“Good.” She kisses me back before a wicked grin curves her lips. I groan because it means trouble, but it also makes my cock jerk with desire. “Now, about that dye . . . It was actually me.” She turns and runs.

Laughing, I chase after her, and her giggles fill the house with warmth and love—a love I didn’t know I was missing until her.

CHASE

I send Beck a text after I leave my meeting. I’m not struggling today, but I felt the need to go and remind myself how far I have come. I’ll always be an addict, but I’m learning that doesn’t define me.

I’m still an addict, only now I’m addicted to Beck Danvers—Summer.

Pretty Girl: Come back soon, I have news.

That gets me moving, and I tug down my hat as I climb into the waiting car and direct them to the house. It’s been quiet these last few weeks. The paparazzi were crazy for a few days, but our label has worked miracles to get them to back off and give us the space we need. They are eager to be better, and that’s all we can ask for.

After all, every single one of us knows people make mistakes. It’s how they act afterwards that matters.

An addict, a healing child, a trauma-filled drummer, and a grieving singer.

We all know the importance of forgiveness, and we are living it every day.

We make it home in record time, and once inside, I frown at the empty hallway. It’s too quiet. “Guys? Baby?” I call.

“In the game room!” she calls back, giggling after her words.

I grin at the sound. Her laughter has been sparse recently, so I drink down each and every one. Heading that way, I drop my bag on the side table and open the closed doors.

“Surprise!” they scream in unison as I blink.

They wear music-decorated party hats, and above them is a banner with the words, “We are back!”

I frown, unsure what’s happening as Beck hands over a black Solo cup with a skull on the side and guides me over to the pool table where a big box sits on the top. “We are going back on tour,” she gushes excitedly. “I’m ready, and I miss it. We are going back during the weekend. We will make up for the missed dates at the end, but I’m excited. To celebrate, we thought we would give you a gift. You are our founder, the original Dead Ringer, so it’s your tour present you never got.”

“Beck—” She covers my mouth.

“This is a good thing. I’m happy, I swear. I’m ready to go back. I want to tour. So enjoy this.” She grins, clapping. “Open it, open it.”

I share a look with Trav and Kolton, who just smile secretly at me. I bite my lip, since I’ve never had a gift before, as I gently pull off the bow, knowing we like to save the ribbon, and then open the lid, blinking at what’s inside.

Nestled in the big box is a single key with a skull key ring. I lift it, confused.

“It’s a Harley Davidson Cosmic Starship.” She smiles. “Every time you are stressed or worried or feel the need to get high, I figured you could escape on it and feel the adrenaline and get a high without drugs.” When I just stare, she wilts. “I’m sorry. Is that insensitive? I just wanted to help.” I swallow her words as I kiss her hard enough that our teeth clash.

“I fucking love you, pretty girl,” I whisper. “How can you be so perfect?”

How can she understand the itch that never leaves me and offer me a solution without judgment?

“I’m glad you like it because before we get utterly drunk and you fuck my brains out, we’re going for a spin.” She grins and grabs my hands, yanking me outside to see my new bike, but all I can see is her.

My Beck, my Summer, my love.

The woman who saved me.

Who saved us all.

KOLTON

Beck is packing excitedly. She has healed a lot over these past few weeks. I know she still struggles, and whenever nightmares hit her, we will be there, but she’s so excited for tour that we can do nothing but oblige, and honestly, I miss it.

I miss performing with her.

I belong on a stage at her side, and I can’t wait to get back there, so I help her pack. When we get to her sister’s tapes, she smiles and carefully wraps them in a Dead Ringers shirt and adds them. “This way she’s coming with us,” she murmurs.

“I love that, and so would she.” I nod as I wrap my arms around her, and we just look at the shirt. “She would be so proud of you, Beck.”

“You think?” she whispers.

“I know she would be. She’d be out there screaming her heart out to your songs. She would brag to everyone that you were her big sister. She was always so proud of you, and that hasn’t changed. She will see you, baby. Every night, she will see you singing for her. It’s time to stop apologizing to her, my love, because she forgives you. You know that deep down. It’s time to love and live for her, to become what she always wanted you to be and share your talents with the world. I know you feel like you don’t belong, but you’re wrong. You are Summer; you are Beck. You are both, and you are a Dead Ringer, a rock star. This might have started with lies, but it ends with nothing but truth on that stage.”

I kiss her. “Let’s forget the past, Beck, and heal together. You’ll always be my home, my safe space, and I will be yours. I promise.” I lift her hand and kiss her ring finger, my meaning clear. When she’s ready, I’ll be hers.

We all will be, no matter what anyone thinks.

It’s us against any storm that tries to come at us.

SEVENTY-THREE

Iturn to them as the bus starts moving, and I can’t help but grin. We have a few days of travel ahead of us, and I back toward our bedroom. “I say we rechristen this bus.” I turn, and I know they are chasing me.

The last time we were together on the bus like this, I was saying goodbye, but today, I am saying hello to our future. There are no choked back tears, only smiles as we crash onto the bed. Wandering hands and tongues meet desperately as bright sunlight shines inside, encapsulating us in its wonder and beauty.

Clothes are torn away as we fall together. Someone’s mouth meets my pussy, making me cry out, and another finds my breasts, playing with my nipples with expert precision as another kisses me, swallowing my pleasure. They work together until I’m panting and writhing, begging for them.

I grip onto every bit of skin I can, craving closeness. Someone’s hand brushes my throat, and I freeze for a moment, trying to fight off the panic. Like they know, it moves away, and a soft kiss replaces it over my healed skin.

They fix what he broke.

I roll onto my back, smiling up at them as I break the kiss. Chase’s head lifts from between my thighs as he grins, Kolton’s lips are bruised from my kiss, and Trav slides down my stomach.

“I love you,” I tell them.

“I love you,” Kolton replies as he kisses me.

“I love you.” Chase grins. “I love your pussy more though,” he teases with a wink as he drops his mouth to my center.

My mouth parts on a gasp as he licks me from clit to ass, his fingers spreading me wide for him as he takes his time. When Trav kisses up my stomach and lays one over my heart, I smile.

“I love you, Summer Leroy,” he whispers. “Now let me show you.”

“Please,” I murmur, allowing my vulnerability to show.

“How do you want us, baby?” Kolton asks, cradling my face with his hand as he watches me lovingly. “We are yours. Tell us what you want, and we will give it to you.”

“I want you all forever,” I admit.

“Then you have us,” he promises, leaning down to kiss me. “Now give me your pretty mouth. I’ve missed it.”

“Then I get her ass. She’s been rubbing it against me all week, driving me mad,” Chase warns before blowing on my clit, making me groan.

“Then I get her sweet pussy.” Trav smirks. “On your hands and knees, beautiful.”

I relax, and I know he did that on purpose. Being on a bed with someone over me is scary right now, and he’s giving me control. I love him for that even as I roll onto my hands and knees, grinning as Trav crawls under my body, stopping to kiss each of my nipples before his mouth meets mine. “Now get your boy nice and wet for that tight ass,” he whispers as he reaches down and presses my legs wider, making room for Chase, whom I feel behind me.

His hand rubs my cheeks while his hot length slaps against my pussy, making me jump and then groan as he rubs me with it. He bumps into my clit, rubbing his cock in my cream, before he pushes slowly inside me, letting me get used to the stretch before we start to rock together. All the while, Trav holds my gaze prisoner, and Kolton strokes my back and hair.

Chase slowly builds my pleasure until I cry out for more, and when I’m about to come, he pulls free of my body, making me snarl his name. Laughing, he slaps my ass before Trav grips my cheeks and holds them open for him. I bite my lip as I glance between Trav’s dark gaze and his plush lips.

“Our girl needs kisses, Kolt,” Trav calls.

“Her wish is my command,” Kolt murmurs, and my head is turned to meet Kolt’s hungry lips as Chase circles my ass with his cock. He slowly pushes in, working his hard length inside my body one hard, excruciating inch at a time until I’m sweating and panting.

My pussy feels way too empty, but when Trav slams into me, I shatter, screaming into Kolt’s mouth.

Trav and Chase grunt and slowly pull from my body, working together to find a rhythm. When I relax, the waves of pleasure abating, they show me how nice they were being.

They fuck me for real, working my body on their lengths until I have to pull from Kolt’s lips to cry out.

He watches me with hungry eyes, and when he straightens, kneeling before me, I reach for his bobbing length and suck it.

I revel in the connection between us, and with all three of their dicks in me, I come alive.

“Look at you, my pretty girl. You were made for this, made for us, made to be shared between us. You were born to be a Dead Ringer, to be ours, and now we are never letting you go,” Chase growls, pushing his cock deeper into my ass until it almost hurts.

All I can do is meet them halfway, pushing back to take them while sucking Kolton harder. I know I’m in charge here. I know they are mine. They would crawl through fire if I demanded it.

I might be theirs, but they are mine, and what started with a rebellion ends with a happily ever after.

“He’s right, beautiful.” Trav moans. “This is where everything was leading us to. You got your revenge, baby, and now you get your fame. You get the happiness you always deserved, starting right now, so take us, use us, and let us see you fly high.”

I roll my eyes up to Kolt’s as he lovingly strokes my cheek. “My beautiful savior, my wild girl, let go. We’ve got you.”

I know they do.

Their hands reclaim me. Their mouths worship me.

Their bodies fit perfectly with mine.

We are one. We are infinite for one moment in time, moving together as pleasure flows through us.

“Pretty girl,” Chase murmurs, pulling me back tighter against his body as we all fight to keep going forever, but with them all touching me, I can’t stop myself.

I shatter and fly, soaring above and taking them with me.

Their cries follow me as they fill my body with their pleasure, saturating me with it.

When I float back down, they catch me like I knew they would.

Kolton is sprawled back, his chest heaving, and I swallow. Trav and Chase are still locked within my fluttering body as I lie between them.

I laugh, and they join in before it ends in a moan.

I don’t think I will ever get enough of them, of this, of us, and that’s okay.

It’s okay for me to be happy, to want something.

To want them.

Kolton crawls closer, leaning into me, and I am complete.

Lying in their arms, I can’t help but smile.

I smile for everything I have gained, even as my heart hurts for everything I have lost.

I once said I was no longer anything—not a daughter or a sister—but now I’m theirs, and I can live with that title.

I miss my sister, I always will, but Ben and Rachel are facing their crimes, and the world has not only forgiven and apologized to my sister, but everyone is remembering her. The best way I can honor her is to live and perform, and that’s exactly what I plan to do.

With them.

My Dead Ringers.

SEVENTY-FOUR

I’m nervous.

It’s our first night back on tour. I refuse to say we let our fans down because we took time off. I physically couldn’t sing, and I couldn’t give them a good show while I was healing, but we are back, and I hope they can forgive us.

We will make it up to them.

Our new manager is cheering us on from the sidelines. Her name is Winter, and she reminds me so much of my sister that it makes me smile. She is fierce and protective and exactly what we need.

During those weeks, though, I saw the rumors spiral. I don’t blame them. Between us fighting on stage, them carrying me off, and then chasing me off stage, they were bound to. People think I’m sleeping with the guys. They aren’t wrong, but I refuse to answer those questions. It’s our personal life, not theirs, and I’m learning to separate it.

They get me, Beck Danvers, but the guys get Summer.

They get the real me.

The fans get the singer.

Tonight’s also the night we’ll perform our new song, the one we haven’t even released yet but have been practicing the last few days. It’s my love song for them. They loved the tape so much, I caught them replaying it, and honestly, it just spiraled into my lyrics, asking for forgiveness and admitting our love for each other.

It will be our confession, our truth, on stage, and that is as much as they will get.

Nothing else.

When we enter, they scream louder than they ever have before, and I just soak it in. A smile I can’t control curves my mouth.

We perform better than we ever have, and I’m careful during the screaming sections so I don’t injure my throat any worse, and when it comes to our new song, I take a deep breath. The crowd quiets, anticipation filling the air as they feel it.

“Tonight, we have a new song for you. No doubt you have seen the news. Love was born from all that horror and pain—a love that we carry onto every stage and in every song. Make of it what you will, but this one is for you, it’s for us, and it’s for my sister.”

It’s a slow song filled with ups and downs, heartache, grief, and forgiveness. We pour our souls into every word as we sing together. Tears splash down my cheeks, but I don’t wipe them away.

I let them fuel me, and when the song ends, I stand there, soaking in their applause and shouts. I let that happiness fill all those cracked places inside me.

My eyes go to the stars above the open arena, and I know the guys are right.

My sister is watching me.

She’s with me, watching me fulfill our dreams.

Tonight, I sing for her and them.

My eyes go to my men, my loves, my bandmates, and my heart overflows.

This might have started as a rebellion, but it ends with love.

Love and music.

SEVENTY-FIVE

A year later . . .

Tonight is the last show of our tour.

It’s been a crazy whirlwind year, with endless hotel rooms and traveling, but I wouldn’t change a single second of it. It’s exhausting but also the best thing to ever happen to me, and I wouldn’t trade a moment of this tour for anything. Between the moments of exhaustion, there has been so much happiness and love, and ours has only grown.

We are closer than ever.

Our fans are incredible and support us through everything, and our band’s name is splashed everywhere. We brought Reign on for a show or two, as well as Fallon, both of which have become fierce friends, and together, we are taking the rock world by storm. We are reaching the heights the guys always wanted with awards and chart toppers, and I have no doubt one day, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but we have a while until that.

We have a long career in front of us, with many more albums and tours, and I can’t wait to do it all with them.

We are ending this tour on the other side of the world, with the fans screaming our name and our crew cheering us on—a crew I’ve fallen in love with and know like family. We wouldn’t be here without them, and I appreciate them every single day.

Above it all, though, are the questions, the ones that only get more insistent.

The guys don’t date, and I don’t date. We are always together, so we knew it would come.

Michael knows, and he supports us. Surprisingly, we have become close along the way, and he’s our biggest supporter. So far, we have only told our friends, but we know the public will find out one day. We aren’t keeping it a secret per se, but more just for us. We give them so much of ourselves that it’s nice to keep something private, but I’m not ashamed of our love, and I never will be.

If they want answers, then fine. They’ll get one.

Besides, I don’t like women circling my men, and they are mine.

Forever.

As the last notes fade, I march over to Chase and kiss him deeply. He blinks in shock as I pull away and spin to a gaping Kolton and kiss him too. The fans only scream louder, and when I pull away and grab Trav, dipping him in a kiss, they go wild.

There, I claimed them. They are mine forever.

My beautiful rock stars.

My perfect rebellion.

EPILOGUE

“It seems the music world has been filled with nothing but scandals in the last year or so, and tonight is no different. We have another shocking revelation for you. Fallon, the world’s most beloved morbid rocker, has released a statement ahead of her upcoming book and tour⁠—”

“The statement sent the world into shockwaves this morning as Fallon finally addresses the rumors swirling since her childhood⁠—”

“Many are horrified at the allegations and truth coming to light about Fallon’s past⁠—”

“Many remember Fallon’s father, legendary rock star Agille from the band Electric Giants, but it appears nothing was what it seems⁠—”

“It seems Fallon, the ice queen of rock, is ready to melt⁠—”

I turn away from the news reports with a Cheshire cat grin.

Melt?

They have no idea.

I’m about to start a tidal wave.

I’m going to start a riot.

ABOUT K.A. KNIGHT

K.A Knight is an USA Today bestselling indie author trying to get all of the stories and characters out of her head, writing the monsters that you love to hate. She loves reading and devours every book she can get her hands on, and she also has a worrying caffeine addiction.

She leads her double life in a sleepy English town, where she spends her days writing like a crazy person.

Read more at K.A Knight’s website or join her Facebook Reader Group.

Sign up for exclusive content and my newsletter here http://eepurl.com/drLLoj

ALSO BY K.A. KNIGHT

THEIR CHAMPION SERIES Dystopian RH

The Wasteland

The Summit

The Cities

The Nations

Their Champion Coloring Book

Their Champion - the omnibus

The Forgotten

The Lost

The Damned

Their Champion Companion - the omnibus

DAWNBREAKER SERIES SCI FI RH

Voyage to Ayama

Dreaming of Ayama

THE LOST COVEN SERIES PNR RH

Aurora’s Coven

Aurora’s Betrayal

HER MONSTERS SERIES PNR RH

Rage

Hate

Book 3 coming soon..

THE FALLEN GODS SERIES PNR

Pretty Painful

Pretty Bloody

Pretty Stormy

Pretty Wild

Pretty Hot

Pretty Faces

Pretty Spelled

Fallen Gods - the omnibus 1

Fallen Gods - the omnibus 2

COURTS AND KINGS PNR RH

Court of Nightmares

Court of Death

Court of Beasts

Court of Heathens (Coming soon!)

FORBIDDEN READS (STANDALONES)

Daddy’s Angel CONTEMPORARY

Stepbrothers’ Darling CONTEMPORARY RH

LEGENDS AND LOVE CONTEMPORARY

Revolt

Rebel

PRETTY LIARS CONTEMPORARY RH

Unstoppable

Unbreakable

FORGOTTEN CITY PNR

Monstrous Lies

Monstrous Truths

Monstrous Ends

DEN OF VIPERS UNIVERSE STANDALONES

Scarlett Limerence CONTEMPORARY

Nadia’s Salvation CONTEMPORARY

Alena’s Revenge CONTEMPORARY

Den of Vipers CONTEMPORARY RH

Gangsters and Guns (Co-Write with Loxley Savage) CONTEMPORARY RH

STANDALONES

The Standby CONTEMPORARY

Diver’s Heart CONTEMPORARY RH

Crown of Stars SCI FI RH

AUDIOBOOKS

The Wasteland

The Summit

Rage

Hate

Den of Vipers (From Podium Audio)

Gangsters and Guns (From Podium Audio)

Daddy’s Angel (From Podium Audio)

Stepbrothers’ Darling (From Podium Audio)

Blade of Iris (From Podium Audio)

Deadly Affair (From Podium Audio)

Deadly Match (From Podium Audio)

Deadly Encounter (From Podium Audio)

Stolen Trophy (From Podium Audio)

Crown of Stars (From Podium Audio)

Monstrous Lies (From Podium Audio)

Monstrous Truth (From Podium Audio)

Monstrous Ends (From Podium Audio)

Court of Nightmares (From Podium Audio)

Unstoppable (From Podium Audio)

Unbreakable (From Podium Audio)

Fractured Shadows (From Podium Audio)

SHARED WORLD PROJECTS

Blade of Iris - Mafia Wars CONTEMPORARY RH

CO-AUTHOR PROJECTS - Erin O’Kane

HER FREAKS SERIES PNR Dystopian RH

Circus Save Me

Taming The Ringmaster

Walking the Tightrope

Her Freaks Series - the omnibus

STANDALONES

The Hero Complex PNR RH

Dark Temptations Collection of Short Stories, ft. One Night Only & Circus Saves Christmas

THE WILD BOYS SERIES CONTEMPORARY RH

The Wild Interview

The Wild Tour

The Wild Finale

The Wild Boys - the omnibus

CO-AUTHOR PROJECTS - Ivy Fox

Deadly Love Series CONTEMPORARY

Deadly Affair

Deadly Match

Deadly Encounter

CO-AUTHOR PROJECTS - Kendra Moreno

STANDALONES

Stolen Trophy CONTEMPORARY RH

Fractured Shadows PNR RH

Burn Me PNR

CO-AUTHOR PROJECTS - Loxley Savage

THE FORSAKEN SERIES SCI FI RH

Capturing Carmen

Stealing Shiloh

Harboring Harlow

STANDALONES

Gangsters and Guns CONTEMPORARY, IN DEN OF VIPERS’ UNIVERSE

OTHER CO-WRITES

Shipwreck Souls (with Kendra Moreno & Poppy Woods)

The Horror Emporium (with Kendra Moreno & Poppy Woods)

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