Arsen and Hunter noticed right after, sensing the shift in the air. This feeling that was rushing wide and fast.
My oldest friends.
Arsen’s attention jerked up from where he was tuning his bass. “Royce.”
Hunter stood from behind the practice kit set up at the far end of the room, carefully, like he had no clue what to make of me being there.
A built-in studio was in the room behind them, production room on the right and the booths to the left.
This place had once been an abandoned warehouse that we’d sneaked into to practice at all hours of the night, punks out living life for ourselves, large and without apology, feeling like thieves causing trouble as we’d chased down a dream.
Had seemed fitting to buy it when the time came right.
Another thing that had been swiped out from under my feet.
Another missing piece.
I stopped inside the door, all eyes on me.
Speculation and fear and hope.
“Royce,” Van chanced, tipping his chin toward me in question.
“Hey, man, long time.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. He eyed me up and down. “You here to play?”
“Heard you might need somebody.”
He scratched at his chin before he cracked a grin. “About fuckin’ time.”Thirty-ThreeRoyceIt was late by the time I pulled up to my house in the Hills. Place lit up where it was perched on a small cliff, a thousand times smaller than that monstrosity a mile up the hill where my stepfather had reigned.
Still, it was perfectly fitting for my role as Mylton Records’ head of A & R.
Contemporary luxury with a multimillion-dollar view.
Headlights cutting through the night, I eased into the garage.
I’d stayed at the studio all day and evening, hours passing as we’d just . . . jammed. Going through old songs that had filled me with a gutting sort of nostalgia and new ones that I’d not been partner to, refusing the bitterness and instead embracing the chance.
Choosing life.
Maggie had texted me that she was staying at a friend’s tonight. She’d spent the weekend away and had just gotten home yesterday, but she was already out and about again.
Made me fucking glow that she was feeling so confident.
Stepping out of her comfort zone.
Taking the reins of her life and letting it lead her into the future rather than remaining chained to the past.
Of course, made me itch to think about her out on her own, too. Antsy with the onslaught of protectiveness that lined my veins when I thought of her vulnerable.
Worrying like she was a little kid and not the woman she was becoming.
But she didn’t need someone trying to shelter her, to keep her under their wing.
Not when she was ready to soar.
Coming to a stop in the garage, I blew out a strained sigh when I cut the engine. The night crept over me, silence echoing back, wrapping me in its loneliness.
I scrubbed a palm over my face, trying to break it up, hoping it would keep down the barbs of pain that spiked. It was only a reminder that I’d taken what I shouldn’t have. That I’d gotten greedy and stolen something for myself when that wasn’t what this had been about.
Before I lost myself to the desolation, I opened the door and stepped out of my car. The city teemed around me, the trill of bugs in the palm trees that swished in the gusts of wind that blew through the hills and rushed across the valley, the drone of cars a dull hum in the distance.
I pressed the button to close the garage and took the two steps up to the interior door.
Pushing it open, I stepped into the vacancy.
It echoed back across the shining travertine floors.
Though tonight, it was different.
A disorder in the quieted hush.
Angling my head, I peered into the house.
Everything was still, nothing but the bare glow from the lights in the kitchen spilling into the posh living space.
Still, I felt it.
Energy.
Life that stirred the void inside of me.
God.
I was losing it.
I attempted to shove the feeling down. Couldn’t get lost in my mind. In the remnants of my bleeding heart.
I pushed into the house, footsteps reverberating across the floor. I started to turn right so I could take the stairs up to my bedroom when I froze.
Awareness pricked my senses.
A skitter of need rustling through the air.
My attention snagged on something on the floor in the foyer.
Edging back, I slowly moved that way, pulse thrumming like a live wire.
Slowly, I knelt and picked up the piece of ripped journal paper, eyes tracing her words.
Come to me
I’ve been waiting for a break
Looking for something to save me from myselfEmily.
My breaths turned ragged.
Shallow.
Emily.
Fingers twitching with greed, I edged deeper toward the main area of my house, drawn down the hall that led to the great room and kitchen. Emotion crashed when I found another scrap of paper left in the middle of the floor, and I swore, I could feel the ground shake when I knelt down and picked it up, this one inscribed with my handwriting.