“I’ll go,” she said, soft but resolute. “I didn’t know… if I’d even suspected…” Her sigh was heavy, and her touch almost apologetic. “I’ll go.”
“No!” I protested, reaching back to grip her hand tightly. “I’m not sending you back out there just because Jace is being—”
“That’sher,Rhett!” my best friend roared. “That’sBillie.”
My eyes locked with Jace as shock and denial rippled through me. I desperately wanted to believe he was joking, but I knew deep down… Jace wouldn’t lie. Not about this. Not abouther.
Thorn gave a pained noise at my back, trying to tug her hand free once more.
Billie.
Thorn wasBillieBellerose.
TheBillie Bellerose.
The girl next door who had almost completely destroyed Jace. She was the reason our band was called Bellerose. My best friend’s former muse and perpetual destruction.
Fuck. Fucking fuck.
four
BILLIE
Eight years, two months, sixteen days, and change. That’s how long it had been since I stared into blue eyes that used to darken in desire for me. Now it was fury.
“She needs to fucking leave!”
It hadn’t escaped my attention that since his firstWhat the fuck are you doing here,Jace had done his best not to address me directly. His gaze didn’t turn to me again, and I wondered how his hatred still sliced through my chest almost as hard as it had the last time we were together.
I never want to fucking see you again, Billie Bellerose. You’re throwing away the best fucking thing in your life, and now you’ll see my face everywhere. I’ll be haunting you, Rose, but thank fuckI’llnever have to seeyourdeceitful face ever again.
He’d turned and walked away after those guttural words and, true to his promise, did not look back. Not once. Not when my house burned down and my parents both died. Not even when I spent a month in intensive care. And I didn’t blame him for it.
Jace had gone on to become the biggest rock star in the world, spitefully name his band after me, and create album after album of songs that toldourstory. All to ensure I never forgot what I’d lost.
As if I ever could. But what this big bastard didn’t know was… I’d done it all for him.
And I was done with being punished for it.
The last eight years had been torture, and it was time that I stepped out of the shadows and stood on my own two feet. After all, it was probably my last night alive. I might as well get some of my pain out before taking a bullet to the brain, courtesy ofhisex-best friend. When I sidled around Rhett, he tried to move with me, but when I put my hand on his arm to halt his movement, he stilled. For a rock star, he was surprisingly gentle. A knight in shining armor.
The exact person I would have chosen to run into when I was terrified and in need of shelter.
But he couldn’t protect me against this, and I didn’t want him to fight with his friend over me.
This was my fucking fight, and it was long overdue. The irony of running into Jace the same night I was fleeing Angelo wasn’t lost on me, either. Whoever was controlling my fate thought they were really fucking funny.
“Fuck you, Jace.” The words spilled from me in a low, husky rush. Not as tough as I’d wanted them to be, but my voice was steady, and that was about all I could ask for.
It was his turn to still, but unlike Rhett, Jace was a cobra preparing to strike.
In near slow motion, he turned away from his bandmate and locked his gaze on mine. The air all but sizzled as we stared each other down. Well,upfor me since he was even fucking taller than the last time I’d seen him. Bastard was six and half feet of ripped rock star god. I was five and a half feet of homeless waif. We were not the same, but I’d never let him know that.
“What did you say to me?” he murmured, outraged, and I felt the tingles of that low tone run down my spine. Jace, with his tanned skin and dark blond hair that was short on the sides with longer, streaked-platinum strands on top, had the voice of a fucking angel.
He was absolutely devastating up close.
It never surprised me that he was continually voted the most desirable man in the world. There was a magnetism about Jace that could not be replicated. He’d been born with it, and now, at twenty-six, he was beyond the beautiful boy I’d fallen in love with.
