I want to reassure him, tell him everything will be okay, but I can’t lie to him. Not when I don’t even believe it myself.
“I need to pack,” I whisper, my voice cracking.
Harris nods briskly. “Go ahead. I’ll wait.”
The bus feels foreign as I step inside. The familiar warmth, the comfort are gone, replaced by an unbearable heaviness. I lean against the door for a moment, willing myself to keep it together. My hands tremble as I grab my clothes, my notebook, the small collection of personal items I’ve brought with me.
The tears I’ve been holding back finally spill as I shove my things into my bag. This isn’t just about me. It’s about them, about us. What does this mean for Jax’s recovery? For the band’s future? For our new songs? For everything we’ve worked toward the last few months?
I hear soft footsteps behind me and turn to see Enzo standing in the doorway. His face is hard, his jaw tight, but when his eyes meet mine, his expression softens.
“You don’t have to do this,” he says quietly, stepping closer. “We’ll figure something else out. We always do.”
I shake my head, tears blurring my vision. “I don’twant to make things worse, Enzo. If I stay, it might hurt the band even more.”
He cups my face in his hands, his touch warm and steady. “We need you, Lily. I need you. You’re not just part of the band—you’re part of us.”
His words nearly undo me, but I force myself to focus. “Harris isn’t giving us a choice.”
Enzo pulls me into a hug, his arms wrapping around me like he’s trying to shield me from the world. “This isn’t right,” he murmurs.
I cling to him, the weight of it all pressing down on me. “I don’t want to leave,” I whisper, my voice breaking.
“You won’t,” he says fiercely. “We’ll find a way.”
I nod against his chest, even though I’m not sure I truly believe him.
CHAPTER 39
THEN WE FIGURE IT OUT
MARCUS
Enzo stormsonto the bus right after Lily, leaving the rest of us outside in the aftermath of Harris’s bombshell. The door slams shut behind him, the sound still ringing in my ears as I try to process everything that just happened. Harris stands there, arms crossed, his face an unreadable mask. He’s dropped the hammer, and now it’s like he’s just waiting for the fallout.
We’ve got a show in less than six hours, another in two days—our final show, if the label gets its way. It’s a hell of a time to hit us with this. The pressure in my chest tightens, and I can feel frustration rolling off the guys, too.
Dylan paces back and forth, muttering curses under his breath, while Jax stares at the ground, pale and stunned, like this news has just ripped his will to continue right out of him.
“Lily has to leave?” Jax’s voice comes out quiet, like he’s struggling to believe it. “Just like that?”
I run a hand through my hair, trying to shake off thesurge of anger. “She’s not working for the label anymore. Technically, she doesn’t have a reason to stay with us.”
“But she can still stay, right?” Jax looks up, desperation creeping into his tone. “I mean, we’ve had guests on the bus before. There’s nothing stopping her from staying with us... is there?”
I glance at Harris, who shifts uncomfortably. He doesn’t meet my eyes as he mutters, “The label won’t care about guests, but you’re already on thin ice. If Lily stays, it could complicate things further.”
“Things are already complicated. And we’ve basically been fired,” I snap, my voice sharper than I intend. “Anything else we need to know, Harris? Or can we get on with fixing the mess you just dropped in our laps?”
Harris lets out a long sigh, like he’s just as tired of this as we are. “There’s nothing else. Finish your shows, and after that... you’re done.”
He doesn’t wait for a response, just turns and walks away, leaving us standing in the gravel lot. His words hang heavy in the air. I watch him go, the wheels in my mind already turning. If he’s leaving, that means Lily can stay. He’s not going to force her to go with him.
I take a deep breath and turn to the others. “Let’s go inside. Lily’s probably packing her stuff right now, and we need to stop her.”
Jax nods, his jaw tightening with determination. Dylan stops pacing and moves toward the van, his steps quick and purposeful.
Inside, the familiar scent of coffee and leather fills the air, but it feels different now. Instead of invoking comfort, it makes me feel tense and on edge.
