Page 101 of Forbidden Lyrics

“How can I help?”

He shakes his head. “You can’t. Even I can’t help. This bullshit excuse of me babysitting Fen on tour is exactly that. It’s bullshit. Fender’s a grown-ass man. He can do what he wants. I can’t control him. And that’s what sucks. He’s been taught by our older brother that drugs are the norm for the music industry. That he needs them to fit in. To excel. To make connections.”

“That sucks, Gibbs,” I supply. I don’t know what else to say.

Scrubbing his hand over his face, a defeated Gibson tells me, “He doesn’t see how toxic Marty is, ya know? I can see Fen on the precipice of a cliff. He’s so close to falling, losing everything, and joining Marty in his shitty life. But he could also leap off that cliff and fly. He could fucking soar. But no matter how much I believe in him, he has to believe in himself, and I can’t make him. That’s on Fen.”

His turmoil is crippling, and I’m desperate to help carry its weight, but I don’t know how. I can’t imagine how he must feel. How much pressure he’s putting on himself to keep Fender safe when he’s right. That’s out of his control. But if he does learn to let go, will it hurt his brother?

Probably.

And Fender doesn’t deserve it, either. I get his weakness. His craving. His addiction. At least on some level. Because I have one too, and if I had to leave Gibson, it would kill me.

Heck, it will kill me one day. Because Gibson has made it clear. We aren’t forever. He’s just the bard.

I lick my lips and squeeze his hand again. “I’m sorry, Gibbs.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know. But I hate seeing how much it hurts you. You love him.”

“I love the shit out of my little brother,” he admits. “But I get so damn tired of keeping his head above water.”

“That’s not your job.”

“I know. But I can’t simply sit back and watch him drown.”

I rest my head on his shoulder, my breakfast forgotten. “He sounded optimistic on the phone.”

“That’s my baby brother for you. Always optimistic until he has a hard day. Then the world is falling apart, and the only thing that’ll fix it is drugs or alcohol.” He drops a kiss on my forehead. “But enough sad talk for one day. Have you told your sister yet?”

I grimace and peek up at him. “Maybe.”

“And?”

“And she’s pissed, but she can’t control me.”

He reaches for his cup of coffee and takes a sip from the steaming mug before eyeing me over the brim of it. “Does she know about us?”

“She saw the hickey you gave me on my neck last week, but I didn’t confirm her suspicion that it was you who bit me.”

He nods and opens his mouth to say something when the front door creaks open.

Who’s here?

Chapter Twenty-Five

Dove

“I know. It’s absolutely insane. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it,” Reese murmurs, her phone pinned between her shoulder and ear as she fumbles with her purse. “Yeah, of course. And yes, I’ll be careful. We’ll talk soon.”

She hangs up her phone, sees me, and grins. “Dove!”

“Hey, Reese!” I’m on my feet in an instant as she races down the short hall and pulls me into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you!”

“Saaaame,” she returns, dragging out our hug the same way she drags out her response. “I have so much to tell you. Seriously––”

She stops short, pulling away from me. Her attention shifts to Gibson behind me and back to me before a Cheshire grin nearly splits her face in two.

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