Page 49 of Pretty Little Rocker

Swallowing around the thick lump in my throat, I didn’t look at Ky. I couldn’t and wouldn’t break down, and I refused to shed a single tear over anyone today. “And you?” I murmured. “What do you say, Ky? Is my presence in your band going to ruin anything?”

“Fuck,” he groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face in frustration. “Hayat…”

I willed myself not to cry, to not even change the way I was breathing so he wouldn’t know how his hesitation hurt. How it fucking killed a piece of me. That first blow Saturday had knocked me back a few steps, but it sure as hell hadn’t taught me any valuable lessons. That much was apparent. This one, the way his voice was full of uncertainty, like he was considering Maddie’s words and agreeing with them, opened a wound in me that I didn’t think could ever be healed.

And he still hadn’t said anything past my name. I counted the seconds that turned into a full minute before moving. “Someone should call Atticus. He won’t ruin anything for Autumn’s Slumber.”

Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it the fuck together.

I chanted over and over in my head as I turned and walked back to the elevator. Cocking a brow at the two guards standing on either side, I garbled out, “Studio. Now,” and one of them jumped into action to unlock the door and the floor I needed access to.

“Hayat!” Ky yelled behind me. “Wait.”

He wanted me to wait, yet I didn’t hear him coming after me. Did he expect me to be the one to come to him? After he’d destroyed me not once, but twice now?

Fuck him.

“Goddess, wait for us. We’ll come with you.” Sparks sounded pissed, and I could hear stomping feet behind me.

“Babe, let’s just leave.” Jamie, my sweet boy, had a note in his tone that made me feel protected. Why did I ever think he was a golden retriever? He was my cute, cuddly, vicious pit bull. And I loved him so fucking much. All of them. Jamie, Sparks, and—God, why do you hate me so much—Ky.

“Hurry. Hurry. Hurry,” I begged the guards.

Keeping my back turned to the doors, I whispered a choked “Thank you” when they closed before any of the guys could reach me.

Let them go talk to Maddie. Let her convince them to focus on Ky and drown out the others in the band. Did Aunt Trinity know her stepdaughter was trying to Yoko Ono my band?

Not my band any longer.

I would only ruin it.

Hurt them.

They needed someone else.

Someone who wouldn’t pull all the attention away from the others.

It didn’t take long before the elevator doors opened again. Yet another pair of security guards were waiting there. I stepped through the doors, fighting my tears for all I was worth. “Shane?” I rasped.

Recognizing me, one of them pointed toward a door I knew well. He was in the studio. Whether he was working on music already recorded or with a band to lay down tracks, I didn’t know, and I really didn’t care. My fingers fumbled opening the door, and then I walked in and carefully shut the thick door behind me just as the first tear spilled free.

Shane Stevenson sat in front of a sound board that looked like something from a sci-fi movie. But when I entered, he jerked his head up, his blue-gray eyes turning on me with an angry glare. Seeing me, he jumped up out of his seat, crossing the distance to the door and wrapping me in his arms.

“Hayat, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Cupping my tear-soaked face in his hands, he tried to brush away the curls that were sticking to my cheeks. “Honey, why are you crying?”

Of course he was worried. How often did I cry?

Well, recently, it had been at least once a day. But before meeting my rockers, it had been a rare occasion. I let things roll off my back. Amusement and anger were the primary emotions that I allowed through. Tears had no place in my busy life. What the fuck did I have to be sad about anyway?

Nothing.

Until I met Autumn’s Slumber.

“I-I…” I didn’t know what to say. Or do.

I could not go back to the floor where my guys where—two guys who were mine, and the other…

I didn’t know who he belonged to.

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