He had to drive it to the fucking hilt.

He had to make sure we didn’t stand a chance of getting her back.

Because Jericho Noble was as much a sadist as he was a masochist.

He buried himself in angst and pain, and when that wasn’t enough, he inflicted more.

I shook my head in frustration as I read over the part again, even as I felt the guilt seep into my bones, reminding me that this had been my doing.

Children of the Marriage/Domestic Partnership:

Name: ____________________

Gender: ___________________

Date of Birth: ______________

Age: Three years

“Why the fuck would you include this bullshit?” I exploded anyway. “You don’t even know if that’s your kid, dipshit! Name, unknown. Gender, unknown. Date of birth, un-fucking-known. Did it ever occur to you that Emily could have been lying? There might not even be a kid.”

“She wasn’t lying,” he assured me, and it made me sick to my stomach to hear him defend that lying, cheating bitch.

“So you’ve seen her in the last four years? Did she happen to have a kid on her hip?” I yanked the knife from the nightstand and snatched the papers up to study them closer. I just had to know what other dumb shit Jericho’s self-flagellating ass had used to screw us over. As soon as I was sure there were no other skeletons in his fucked-up closet, I’d go get my girl.

I wasn’t so sure I could do this three-amigos shit anymore.

Jericho had been right about one thing, at least.

If one of us lost her, we all did, which meant the chances of us fucking up were greater with three. I wasn’t sure if I could go through losing Braxton a fourth or fifth time. I guess it depended on who was counting.

When I read the same line six times, I gave up and tossed the papers neither Jericho nor Emily had signed, making it crystal clear to Braxton that they were still married.

I couldn’t think straight. Each breath felt like it cost me a little more. I wanted to hit something, namely Jericho.

Seeing that wild look in his eyes that mirrored my own, I knew he’d fuck me up just as bad if I tried. In my peripheral, I noticed Houston sink onto the edge of Braxton’s bed with his forearms on his thighs as he stared dejectedly at the floor.

“Now would be a good time for you to tell us what to do,” I spat.

He ignored me.

I shoved my fingers through my hair before looking around, trying to convince myself that she was really gone. Braxton had taken everything and left nothing behind. Nothing to confirm that she’d ever really been here at all. I wouldn’t be struggling to accept it if I hadn’t fallen for her.

Braxton couldn’t just settle for being an amazing lay and guitarist. She had to go and fuck with my feelings too.

I was out of the bedroom and back in the hall before I even realized my feet were moving. I heard Rich asking me where I was going, but I ignored him. I couldn’t put all of the blame on his shoulders even though I wished I could. I went along with the lie. I kept Braxton in the dark. Now she was gone, and I—

I sent my fist through the wall once I got inside my room and barked a curse when I pulled it away. My hand throbbed and hurt like hell, but the pain wasn’t the worst I was feeling at the moment.

Finding my phone and ignoring my hand, I immediately dialed Braxton. Even though I’d hoped, never in my wildest dreams did I imagine she’d answer.

“Yes, Loren?”

My lips parted, but no words came. None that would make it right. When I heard her sigh, however, I knew the small window I’d been given was quickly closing.

“Come back.”

“Now, why would I do that?” I pictured her studying her nails and wished she’d stayed to use them on me—to inflict pain rather than give me indifference. I could handle one, but she’d destroy me with the other.

“Because I love you,” I told her even though it wasn’t even close to what I had planned to say. I could feel her surprise on the other end, but she masked it well with frigid silence. I gulped. “I hate that I waited until now to tell you. I hate that I can’t see your face because as much as you want to hate me, you wouldn’t be able to hide the truth.”

“What’s the truth?”

“You love me too.” I waited for her to confirm or deny it, but Braxton had returned to giving no reaction at all. I used her silence as the chance to listen to her background and pinpoint her location so I could go fucking get her. It pissed me off that I had zero clue how long ago she’d left because, while she’d been thinking and feeling the worst, I’d been sleeping like a baby. “Please come back,” I begged once more. “We’ll tell you everything. It’s not what you think.”

I heard her quiet chuckle, and my head dropped from the weight of holding it up. I knew before she spoke. I knew that I’d lost her.

“It’s exactly what I think, Loren. I don’t negotiate with liars.”

I was still holding the phone to my ear long after she hung up. It was how Houston and Rich found me when they walked into my room. I was still hoping this was all a bad dream, and I’d wake up soon.

“Get out.” I didn’t look at them after I issued the order. I just pressed my back to the mattress and stared up at the black ceiling.

“We will, but you’re coming with us. Tim’s on his way,” Rich announced, referring to our pilot.

“For what?”

“Braxton was spotted at the airport. It’s all over the blogs.”

I found myself snorting even though I didn’t find a damn thing funny. Our rebel still thought she was a little fish in a big pond, and no one would recognize her. Or maybe she was just that desperate to get away from us. I scrubbed my hands down my face.

“She’s going back to Los Angeles.” I was so exhausted emotionally and physically that I could barely form the words.

“We can cut her off if you’d get the fuck up,” Jericho snapped.

“And then what?” I muttered, still staring at the ceiling.

“I’ll explain,” he na?vely offered. You’d think we would have learned our lesson about how tightly Braxton held her grudges.

“Tried that.”

“We know. We heard,” the eavesdropping shits confirmed. I knew if we weren’t all secretly losing our shit over Braxton, they’d be snickering like little girls right now.

“So you want me to race a thousand miles across two states to strike out a second time in one day? Pass.” Flipping them both off, I rolled onto my stomach, hoping the ache would go away.

“What the hell did you expect, Lo? You wait until your back is against the wall to tell her how you feel, and then you do it over the phone? It was weak.”

I was off the bed and in Rich’s face, slamming his back against the wall before either of them could blink. He could easily shove me off, but he didn’t because he knew this shit was on him.

“Say that again?” I had two inches on him, but at the moment, it felt like two feet.

Apparently feeling the same, Jericho shoved me off, and I cracked my fist across his nose, returning the favor and making him bleed.

Houston stood a couple of feet away, texting as if we weren’t two seconds from tearing this house apart. It wouldn’t be anything new, so I understood the indifference. Jericho was the only one who acted like the world’s fate depended on us getting along every second of the day.

“It’s my fault,” Rich said as he used his hand to staunch the bleeding. “Now let me make it right.”

“She’s not going to make it easy,” I mumbled, defeated as I stared at the ground. Just getting her to listen, we’d have to wage war—not a battle, war.

Houston’s head shot up from his phone as if remembering only now that we were here. The look he gave me was a perplexed one as he slipped his phone into his pocket. I guess he’d struck out too.

“Since when has Braxton ever?”

“This is bullshit,” I muttered, keeping my voice low in case Braxton heard me. Next to me, Rich continued to bang on the door that looked like it would fall off the hinges at any moment.

That would just make my fucking day, to be honest.

We knew she was here. We watched the cab driver help her carry her luggage inside twenty minutes ago. Houston had suggested hanging back so she wouldn’t turn us away on the street, and now here we were. One of her neighbors had already opened the door to openly display his irritation at the noise we were causing like we gave a damn.

Some people.

“If you don’t leave now, I’m calling the cops!” the neighbor yelled from down the hall in his ratty, plaid bathrobe.

They must have been the magic words. Braxton’s apartment door swung open abruptly, and I could have run to hug and kiss the man whose apartment smelled like fermented cheese and dirty gym socks.

When I saw it was just the insanely hot blonde with green eyes that Braxton had brought to our first two shows, my excitement died a quick but still brutally painful death.

“Hey,” I forced myself to greet. “Grendel, right?”