Page 159 of Forbidden Lyrics

“Was?” Milo’s face is red with rage as he finally loses the last bit of his self-control.

“She had a baby girl two days ago,” I tell him, scrambling to join Gibson near the door while terrified he’s about to get the crap kicked out of him. “She’s my sister, but I didn’t know she was the Em I’d heard about until recently. I found out while we were on tour, came home, and confronted her. She went into labor early, and… Yeah. The baby’s in the NICU, but she’s going to be okay.”

Not that he cares, but…

I snap my mouth shut to keep from rambling and grab the hem of Gibson’s soft blue T-shirt, rubbing it between my fingers.

Jaw tight and fists clenched, Milo turns his glare from me to Gibson, stepping closer to him until they’re chest-to-chest. His tense energy taints the air around us until I’m afraid I’ll choke on it.

“How long?” he growls. “How long have you known?”

Gibson grimaces. “It’s complicated––”

“How. Long.”

“Milo––”

“Answer the fucking question.”

Looking sheepish and guilty as hell, Gibson grabs the back of his neck and squeezes. “I’ve known for a few months.”

Milo cocks his arm back and punches Gibson in the jaw without waiting for further explanation. Gibson’s head snaps to the side before he stumbles back a few steps. With a gasp, I cover my mouth.

Holy. Freaking. Crap.

My mind races, trying to catch up with the mess of a situation that’s exploding around me like a freaking grenade before I step in front of Milo and raise my chin to look him straight in the eye.

“It’s not his fault,” I tell him.

His glare is downright terrifying before he orders, “Stay out of this––”

“If you want to blame someone, blame yourself. My sister begged him not to tell you because she knew this is exactly how you would react.”

As if he’s been slapped, he flinches back a few inches, staring down at me with a pair of flinty eyes that are so cold, so sharp, I’m surprised I’m still left standing. But it’s the silence that does me in. The determination combined with frustration. And a hint of fear, too.

“Where is she?” he growls after a few tense seconds.

“At the hospital.”

“Which one?”

“On First––”

He’s gone before I can finish the address.

My breathing is shallow as I turn around and find Gibson at my back, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth that’s curved up in amusement.

“Crap. Are you okay?” I ask, closing the last bit of distance between us.

“I’m fine.”

“Why are you smiling?”

“Because you just went up against a raging bull for me.”

I roll my eyes and stand on my tiptoes to inspect the damage. There’s some definite swelling, but I think he’ll be okay.

“Why is that amusing?” I prod, carefully touching his bottom lip that’s three times its usual size.

---