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“If I left right now, would it be worse for you…to live here?”

“Don’t worry about me.” Emma tries to sound convincing, but there’s no life in her words. The tone of resignation from someone who’s used to taking the blame. The pain. The punishment. “That wouldn’t be the right reason to stay anyway. It would only be worse in the end, for everyone. She’ll just have to get over you.”

“I’m sorry, Emma.” I feel like I’m always saying it. For more than tonight. For whatever hell she just survived to then have to go through this. No one should be treated like a mistake. Words have a way of whispering all of our failures long after the bones heal and bruises fade.

And the abuser’s buried.

She deflates. “Me too.”

I try to silently convey that I know. That I understand. But I doubt she sees it before looking away.

“I think I’ve had enough drama tonight, so I’m going to bed.”

“And I should go.” I stand and grab my jacket from the banister.

She pauses her climb to her room before I’m out the door. “Good-bye, Jonathan.”

“I’m not leaving you, Emma,” I promise. “If you ever need me, I’m here.”

As much as I mean it, I don’t know how to keep this promise. They’re almost never as easy to uphold as they are to make.

Brooklyn’s pretty fricken cool,” Danika admits. We’re standing outside the bar waiting for Jaz and Darcy to arrive.

Collin appears from the alley, spotting us immediately. Danika’s bright red hair extensions help. And my non-rock attire makes me stand out louder.

“Where are the girls?” he asks. “They’re going on soon.”

“Misfits!”

I turn to find Darcy shuffling in a delicate run. She’s half-teetering in platform heels, a sequined mini skirt and torn tank top—her arms in the air like an excited Muppet. Jaz is punked out in leather pants and a bralette with the top half of her braids woven into horns. I really do stand out in my floral and lace maxi dress.

We exchange hugs, and Collin escorts us inside, nodding to the bouncer. He weaves through the crowd, leading us to a table right up front just as the band takes the stage.

“He looks so fierce,” Danika says, admiring Kendrick in his leather vest with nothing underneath. He changed his lip and nose piercings to studs instead of their usual loops. His scalp is freshly shaved into a tight mohawk.

“You mean, sexy,” Collin says, not taking his eyes off his boyfriend.

“Hell yeah,” Jaz agrees emphatically.

“Hi, Kendrick,” Darcy yells, waving to him at the drum set, his intimidating presence doing nothing to dampen her enthusiasm. Her voice carries through the hushed crowd as Hughes approaches the mic. Kendrick winks at her. Sidney, their lead guitarist, opens up the set with a shriek from his guitar. And as soon as Hughes begins to sing and play bass, with Kendrick pounding on the drums, the crowd erupts.

The bar is packed. It has to be at capacity. Which makes it more exciting. Collin’s lost to the music instantly. There’s a lot of shrieking and singing along, whether it’s an emo cover, throwback rock or one of their originals. They have dedicated fans, both male and female.

After a few rounds, I offer to pick up the next tab and head to the bar.

While waiting for our drinks, I use a cocktail napkin to dab the sweat from my forehead and take in our band of misfits. The loves of my life. And my chest cracks.

Jonathan should be here.

We’re not whole without him. I’m not whole without him.

“Need help?” Danika studies my face. “Why are you crying?”

I swipe at my face. “I’m not. It’s sweat.”

“You probably don’t even realize,” Danika says with a shake of her head. “You’re thinking about him again.”

“I’m always thinking of him. He should be with us. He’s missing out on so much.”