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“Bullshit. Your trouble is mine. Consequences don’t matter, bro. We’ve been in this together from the beginning. Not sure when you decided to shut me out.”

When it could have destroyed your life.

“You couldn’t have fixed it, man. There was nothing you could do. And getting you involved would only make it worse. Kept you out of it because I care about you too much.”

Too bad I’d done such a fucking terrible job of keeping it from the rest of the people I loved.

My sister’s face flashed behind my eyes.

Guilt constricted.

So tight I thought I might pass out.

He turned to look at me. “So, what then, if it’s in the past, tell me what it was. Tell me what was so goddamn awful you had to let your girl go.”

I saw it for what it was. Knowledge running wild in his blue eyes. He’d already come to the conclusion before I could cut him off at the pass.

Dude might look like a jacked-up dolt. No brain cells left because his head was too full of arrogance and conceit.

Rhys Manning was nothing but obnoxious ego and secreted wisdom and fucking warm-hearted care.

Thing was, only people who got to witness those last two were the ones closest to him. Guy too terrified to let anyone else behind that brash demeanor that was just as real as the rest of them, but one he still used as a façade.

Walls too fortified to be toppled.

Guessed it was true that he and I had always had a ton in common.

And I knew right then he knew. That he could see right through me.

To the fear. To the ferocity. To the determination that singed and scorched and etched retribution on my soul.

There’d be nothing left of it when I was done.

“What are you in, man?” he finally asked, the dread in his tone warbling through the silence that bottled the cab.

I unlatched the door. “Nothing has changed, Rhys. Just…forget it. Thanks for the ride,” I said to shut him down as I hurried to climb out, needing to get my head clear of this.

Clicking the door shut, I started toward the sleeping house. Didn’t get three steps away before the window rolled down and he shouted after me, “One question.”

I paused, shifted to look at him from over my shoulder, and lifted my chin to give him the go.

No doubt, I was going to regret it.

Rhys’ expression was hard, as hard as the indictment lined in the demand. “Royce know?”

Disquiet curled down my spine, stomach coiling with a vile sickness that clawed and claimed.

Knew I shouldn’t, but I gave him a tight nod, the bit of honesty that I could offer. “Yeah.”

“Fuck,” he hissed. Fear blanched his face. Ghost white. Dread painted him a ghastly gray.

Guessed that was all I had to say.

He turned away, looked out the windshield, and blew out from his nose before he was speaking toward the window, refusing to grace me with a glance, his jaw working like mad. “Tell me this isn’t about those girls. Tell me you weren’t fuckin’ under Karl Fitzgerald’s thumb. Know you were pushin’ for us to sign with them. Before everything about Emily came out. Before Royce revealed the truth about Karl Fitzgerald. Tell me you didn’t stoop that low.”

Their faces flickered through my mind.

The agony.

What they’d gone through.

The ones that had gone missing.

In a flash, I was back at his car, my hands planted on the windowsill. I leaned down so I could jut my head inside.

Voice grit. “That bastard stole everything from me. Stole from the ones I love. Hurt and cheated and lied. Ruined innumerable lives. You really think I’d stoop that low, man? Force a girl? Only stoopin’ I’m doing is getting on my knees to pray the motherfucker ends up dead.”

Him and the rest of them.

Nodding, Rhys slanted his attention back at me. “Wouldn’t have believed it…but fuck, man, what happened to Em…”

He scrubbed a meaty palm over his face.

Shaken by what had come out.

Fitzgerald had had the intention of cutting the rest of us from the band once we’d signed so Emily would be the only one under his control.

All of us knew the very real reality of what could have become of her.

And I’d let it happen, fighting one battle and not realizing a whole different war was brewing right under my nose.

Royce had ripped his tarnished throne out from under him.

Stolen his crown and crumbled his empire.

It was a start, but I intended on setting that entire world on fire.

“Saw some things…in LA. Years ago.” I let the confession bleed out. Let it ring with implication.

Worry streaked through his expression. “Royce using you? To testify?”

“No, man,” I said solemnly. “I’m using Royce.”

Rhys flinched.

Getting it.

That this went so much deeper than he knew.

The very reason I had to keep him out of it.


Tags: A.L. Jackson Falling Stars Romance