Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
He broke us, but he tried to fix it. And I wouldn't let him. I was too damn hurt to be fixed. And then I had my accident, and everything fell apart. When he didn't show up, I was just…too far gone to reel myself back in. I've been drifting ever since, unanchored and unmoored. He was my anchor, my lighthouse. I never realized exactly how much he grounded me until he wasn't there to do it anymore.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. Between the nightmares and anxiety and the flashbacks, I just…crumbled. I should have been packing for college. Instead, I was checking myself into an inpatient facility for PTSD treatment because I couldn't even get in a car without panicking.
He didn't show up then, either. And I've never been able to move past it.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, wheeling around to face Zoya as guilt pricks at me. "I'm a jerk."
She holds her thumb and forefinger an inch apart, giving me a tiny smile. "Maybe a little bit, but I love you anyway."
I fling my arms around her, squeezing her tightly. "You're my favorite slightly younger sister, you know that, right?"
"Damn straight I am," she laughs, resting her head against mine. "Now, please do me a favor and don't sing that damn song first? I want to dance out there. I can't dance if you make me remember that I'm mad at him, too."
"You're allowed to forgive him, you know," I whisper.
"So are you."
I swallow hard, glancing away when her eyes lock with mine. "He doesn't want my forgiveness, Zoya. He forgot about me a long damn time ago." I'm the only one still clinging to the past.
I doubt he ever even thinks of it at all.
An hour and a half later, beads of sweat roll down my back from the hot lights beating down on me as I shimmy across the stage, belting out the last few notes to Goodbye, Gone. The crowd is electric, their energy thrumming through the nightclub. Everyone is on their feet, dancing along.
My guitarist, Jareth Grayson, plays along as I hold the last note, slowly letting it fade. His note fades with mine, leaving an eerie moment of complete silence in the club before the crowd erupts into cheers.
I exhale a relieved breath, grinning from ear to ear. It's been a good night, better than I anticipated, given that most of what I gave them tonight was brand-new material. If their response is anything to go by, the new album is going to fly off the shelves.
"Thank y'all so much," I say when the crowd finally settles down. "I'll see you on tour in a few months, right?"
They immediately start cheering again, making me laugh. I blow a kiss and then hop down offthe stage, waving.
Zoya beams at me. "You did amazing!" she cries, shoving a bottle of water into my hands. "They love the new stuff."
"Thank God," I groan, pausing to inhale half the bottle. Performing always leaves me dying of thirst. "It'll be a bad tour if they don't."
"Please." She rolls her eyes. "You've never written a bad song a day in your life."
I grin at her, really glad she flew out for the weekend. I've missed her like crazy. Now that she's in her final year of college and I'm here, we don't get nearly enough sister time. I don't get nearly enough with Innessa, either. She's in her first year at UT.
The band troops down the steps, joining us off to the side of the stage.
"You were on fire tonight, Nadia," Lemmy, my drummer, says, holding his fist out for me to bump. "They fucking loved you, kid."
"Thanks." I grin at him, popping the cap back on the water bottle. "You guys did great tonight." I nod at a group of women dressed in tiny shorts and crop tops waiting a few feet away. "Pretty sure they aren't here to meet me."
Lemmy grins, waggling his brows. The man is a little wild. The rest of the band is a lot more mellow and chill. If they sleep around after shows, they're discrete about it.
Not Lemmy.
He doesn't care if the whole damn world sees him leaving shows with a new girl every night. It's kind of gross, but it's not my business. I learned a long time ago that there are a lot worse things you can be in this world than someone who enjoys sex with random women. His partners are willing and eager, and he's a good guy who treats them well. I won't infantilize them by pretending they can't make their own choices.
"You need help breaking everything down?" I ask Jareth, who just shakes his head at Lemmy, his lip curled like he finds the whole thing distasteful. I have a feeling he probably does.
He and Lemmy are close, but they're complete opposites in a lot of ways. Honestly, Jareth is not like any guitarist I've ever met. His family owns a vineyard in northern California. He comes from money—a lot of it. He spends most of his time helping out around there. I honestly don't know how he juggles touring with vineyard life, but he says his family does fine without him while he's away, and he needs the break from their crazy asses.