Page 126 of Forbidden Lyrics

“What the hell did you do?” I shout, ripping the needle from his flesh as I search for his pulse. Fen groans, his head lolls to one side, and his eyes are rolled up in his head. But he’s breathing. At least he’s fucking breathing.

My phone plops onto the bed next to Fen’s unconscious body. Confused, I turn around and find an amused Marty staring back at me.

“I think you did enough for the both of us,” he returns calmly.

Practically vibrating with fury, I tear my attention from Marty to an unconscious Fen before returning to my older asshole of a brother.

“Why do you do this to him?” I demand, seconds from losing my shit and tackling the bastard. I’ve put up with his shit for long enough. “Why do you bring him down like this?”

With his hands tucked in his pockets, he moseys from one side of the room to the other as if he has all the time in the world. As if he didn’t just hand a syringe full of poison to our kid brother and encourage him to inject it into his veins.

“He doesn’t come to me to bring him down, Sonny. You do that enough for the both of us.”

“I didn’t do anything––”

“You stole the spotlight,” Marty explains, that same calm lilt in his voice acting like gasoline on my rage. “The way that you always steal the spotlight.”

Confused, I grit my teeth and fist my hands at my sides. I’m done talking in code or the hypothetical bullshit he seems to get off on. “What the hell is your problem, Marty?”

“My problem is you. I’m glad that Fen can finally see it now.”

“I’ve never done anything to you––”

“You’ve had everything handed to you, Sonny.” He tsks. “Your talent. Your voice. Dad’s attention even though you shit on it. Hell, even women fall at your feet. First Em, then Dove.”

What the hell is he talking about?

“You’re joking. You know that, right?” I point out, watching him walk around the extravagant room as if he owns it.

Ignoring me, he cocks his head to the side. “She really is an innocent little thing, isn’t she? I saw her on stage tonight. Her upper thighs playing peekaboo for the crowd.” He licks his lips. “It was quite the show––”

My blood boils at the mere mention of Dove from his lips. Unable to control myself, I lunge for him, grabbing his collar and shoving him against the wall before he even has a chance to blink. His head ricochets forward, but his sinister smile is still etched across his ugly face as he stares back at me, daring me to hit him. To hurt him the same way he’s hurt Fender.

“You know, he told me about Dove and her relationship with our ex.”

My grip loosens for an instant, convinced I’ve heard him wrong. But the bastard doesn’t even bother to wiggle free. He’s too busy enjoying the view as my world falls apart.

“What did you just say?” I rasp.

“Who else do you think Em was fucking behind your back?” He grins. “Don’t worry, though. I haven’t touched your precious Dove. Yet. But now that she knows you may be her sister’s Baby Daddy, I might actually have a chance––”

I hit his jaw with all my might. Blood splatters from his mouth and onto the wall before he shoves me away. Rushing forward, he cocks his arm back and nails my eye socket, causing my vision to blur and my ears to ring. But I’m too fueled by our tangled pasts and Fender’s pain to feel the ache for long. I shake it off and lift my arms to protect my face as my need to kill Marty, check on Fender, and find Dovey combat each other for my attention. But they’re all messing with my head. Making it hard to focus. Making it hard to breathe.

I shake my head again, jabbing at Marty’s nose as soon as I find an opening. A satisfying crunch echoes throughout the room when my fist connects with his nose before he falls to the ground. Clamoring after him, I straddle his waist and lift my knuckles to hit him again and again. To make him pay for the shit he’s put me through. That he’s put Fender through. And Em. And Dove. My precious Dove. The door swings open, and a set of hands yanks me off Marty’s groaning form before another pair of footsteps scrambles to the bed.

“What the hell? Call an ambulance!” Stoker yells, his fingers on Fender’s pulse and his eyes stricken with grief.

“Sonny, what happened?” Phoenix demands, his stern voice snapping me into action.

I stumble to my feet and race back to the bed.

“Fen. Fen.” I slap his face softly, trying to make him respond as I take in his pale skin and the slight blue tint to his lips. He’d been breathing fine a few minutes before. “Fen. Fen, you gotta wake up. Fen––”

“Hello? We need an ambulance.” I glance at Phoenix. He’s pacing the room with a cell phone pressed to his ear, and his voice is hushed. He keeps talking, but I barely register a single word as I search for the asshole who started this mess. Hell, if I didn’t know better, I’d say Marty orchestrated the whole thing. But he’s gone. And I can’t focus on him right now. Fen and Dove are the only people who matter.

And right now, Fender needs me more.

Chapter Thirty-Two

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