Page 48 of All Tied Down

“You should go write something,” Theo says, his head canted to the side. “I bet you could write a hell of a song right now.”

Ugh.

But it’d be about her.

Or based on her.

And that’s not allowed either.

Tossing my phone down, I drag my palms over my face and hold back the scream that’s building in my chest.

I finally find a woman I could make a life with but she’s only with me because she’s contractually obligated to be. Awesome.

“Stop it,” Theo commands, his voice pulling me from my runaway thoughts. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it.”

“I’m fine,” I tell him, turning to head toward my studio.

“I’m sending Roan over to check on you tonight to make sure that’s true,” he calls after me, but I just nod as I continue down the hall to the stairs and flip on the light. The basement was a labor of love, the need to soundproof evident, but I wanted it to be a gathering space for music and stories and peace.

Dark gray walls, cream plush carpet, and black leather furniture make it feel like you could easily lose track of time. Guitars, posters, and other memorabilia serve as decorations—each piece serving as a memento of each stage of my musical career.

A separate space holds the sound booth and all the instruments we might need at any given time.

When was the last time we were down here?

Not just me, but the band.

Letting my eyelids flutter closed, I let my feet sink into the carpet and exhale slowly through my nose as my mind wanders.

Months and weeks and possibly a year has passed since the four of us gathered here, and even then Darren had been antsy, his body vibrating more from the need to get out and less because of the music. I’d overlooked it then and a hundred times after while we were on tour, in between tours, and simply home.

My heart hurts at the realization, pressure building in my chest as I look around the space I’ve always been so proud of.

I didn’t want him to take this away from me—not just the band, but the space where Descending North grew to what it is today.

We’d been happy once.

All of us.

But it feels like I’ve been in some kind of toxic relationship with Darren, thinking he will change if I just believe in him.

Maybe Theo was right; I have a big heart, and right now I think it may be my downfall.

EMERSON

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask quietly as Garrett pushes his pad Thai around the takeout container. We settled into the couch not long ago, him on one side of the couch with me on the other, my legs stretched out toward him while we watch the Illinois Blues play.

“Sorry, I⁠—”

“Garrett,” I say gently as I nudge him with my foot and place my own container on the coffee table, “what happened?”

His eyes are sad when they meet mine. “Stuff with the band I’m not ready to talk about.” I nod even though this isn’t one of those things I understand. I face almost everything head-on and do my best to eliminate emotion from the decision the best I can.

But Garrett isn’t like that.

He wears his heart on his sleeve, and I have to fight to keep my expression neutral even as my blood starts to boil. Someone hurt this beautiful, sexy man, and the urge to destroy whoever it was moves to the top of my priority list.

I just need to know who it is.