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Karl and Cory had hurt far too many people close to me and it was coming back around.

They say payback is a bitch.

Nah.

She was the motherfucking executioner.TwoRichardStraightening our suits, Royce and I slipped back through the front doors of the nicest hotel in Dalton, South Carolina.

Dalton was my hometown. Wasn’t much more than a speck on the map. Farms for miles and old friends for days. You couldn’t go anywhere without someone knowing your name.

Which was the reason when I visited, I typically slipped in and slipped right back out. Staying within the safety of the walls of my childhood house. Doing my best to keep under the radar which was kind of hysterical considering the fame our band, Carolina George, was skyrocketing to.

Yeah, that was fuckin’ dangerous, too.

It was no secret I’d been pushing for my band to sign with Mylton Records. What they hadn’t known was the real motive.

They hadn’t known I’d been trying to get closer. On the inside. To infiltrate far above Karl Fitzgerald himself.

Honestly, I didn’t know how to balance this dangerous maneuver with the actual needs of the band who still didn’t know what was going down.

No doubt, now that we were signed with Stone Industries, things were getting ready to change for the band and in a big, big way.

Wanted it.

Fuck.

I wanted it.

For my crew because they deserved it more than any group of people I’d ever met.

Just prayed this mess wasn’t going to silence us before we even had the chance to really start.

Wasn’t ashamed to say that Carolina George was good.

Hell, I’d go so far as to say great, and that wasn’t arrogance rearing its ugly head.

It was just the fact of the matter.

Emily was our lead singer, the girl singing alongside me since she was barely five, always saying wherever I went, she wanted to go, too. Loved that girl to pieces. Thing was, there was zero bias when I said she had the best voice of probably anyone on the scene. Sultry and deep and mesmerizing, and she could write a love song like nobody’s business.

Rhys, our bassist, and our drummer, Leif, were every bit as talented.

Throw me into the mix?

Suffice it to say we wrote some epic shit and we played it even better.

I roughed an anxious hand through my hair. Just didn’t know how to manage both. Being a band and playing this risky game. Being here in Dalton only made it worse, the memories encroaching, suffocating me in the missteps of the past.

Maybe Royce was right. Maybe I was gettin’ paranoid.

Royce shot a pointed glance at my disheveled appearance. “Pull it together, man. You look like you just rumbled with a pit bull in an alley.”

“I wish,” I grumbled, trying to tame my chaotic hair. As disordered as the rest of me.

Sweat beaded on my brow. Adrenaline still sloshing through my veins.

He laughed and patted me on the back. “Pin a smile on that face. Have a fucking beer. Play it cool. That’s your only job from now until the trial. Well, that and standing up at my side when I get married.”

He shot me a smirk.

“Only doin’ that for my sister, man,” I tossed back, teasing the asshole. I’d wanted to rip him a new one when I’d found out he and Emily had been sneaking into each other’s rooms while we’d been on tour.

Didn’t take long to realize he wasn’t using her. That their relationship wasn’t some twisted manipulation like I’d feared.

We climbed the steps out front and headed inside, crossing the lobby back toward the engagement party while we did our best to act like nothing had happened.

I glanced at him. Sober and direct. “Thanks for having my back.”

He squeezed my shoulder. “Absolutely. We’re family now…in every way.”

“You good with that?” It was almost a warning.

He laughed a morbid sound that didn’t have a thing to do with my sister. “Think it’s a little late to turn back now, yeah? We’re in this shit together.”

Tied in a way that neither of us had expected.

“Nope…no turning back. Think we’ve climbed a train there’s no derailing,” I told him.

Voices floated out from the banquet room, lifting above the indie band Royce had organized to play for the event, the party still progressing like not a soul had noticed we’d been gone.

He looked at the watch on his wrist, flashing the ink that twisted out from under the sleeves of his suit jacket. “Shit. Toast is supposed to go down in two minutes.”

I followed him through the main doors of the private room, the sound of the party amplified in volume by fifteen the moment we stepped inside. “Going to find Emily.”

“Yup. Good luck, man.”

He tossed me a look. “Don’t need luck when I’ve got your sister.”

He disappeared into the fray while I hung back at the far wall. Eyes scanning through the faces, every cell in my body on edge. Ready to jump in at a second’s notice.


Tags: A.L. Jackson Falling Stars Romance