Page 5 of Broken Strings

Addison reaches for my hand, squeezing gently. "Memories are brutal sometimes, aren't they?"

I bob my head, grateful she seems to understand. "They're hell, honestly. But I don't want to think about that tonight. I'm here to have fun and meet everyone before I figure out what to do with this company." I force a laugh that falls flat to myown ears. "I'm pretty sure keeping a company because my five-year-old wants to marry Kasen Alexander in twenty years isn't a sound business decision."

Addison covers her mouth with her hand, fighting laughter when Riley groans loudly.

"What?" My brows furrow.

"Kasen," Riley mutters like she's announcing she has the plague, exasperation written all over her face. "That man is the bane of my freaking existence."

"Ah. Client?"

"Client. Problem child. Man I'd like to murder." She bounces her shoulders in a shrug. "Same difference, right?"

"They're practically siblings," Addison says, smiling.

I smile, bemused that I'm having this conversation right now. Two months ago, I was drinking cheap wine in the bathtub, listening to Kasen on the radio. That was the future I had all mapped out. Not…whatever this is.

Maybe I'm supposed to be grateful for this, but in this moment, I'm not. I feel like my entire world is spinning out of control because of my father again. Last time, I had to keep it together for Brinley. I was pregnant. I had to survive so she did. Maybe it's wrong to blame a dead man for feeling like I'm right back there again, teetering on the edge of hysteria, but I'm mad as hell that I'm being dragged right back to that place, being forced to face the same things, all because he decided to leave me his stupid company.

Maybe it's childish, but I don't care. I'm mad at him for dying and leaving me the company. I'm mad that Grayson is dead, and I'm alone. I'm just…sick and tired of my life being collateral damage because of my father. But I can't say that.

So I just smile instead. So big it feels like it's going to crack my lips.

Someone bumps into me from behind, knocking me forward into Addison.

Riley scowls daggers at the man until he mutters a quick apology and scurries out of view.

"Come on." She loops her arm through mine. "Let's go sit before we get trampled."

"I don't even know where my seat is," I mutter, reaching for my lanyard to check the seat number stamped on the back.

"Doesn't matter." Riley waves me off. "You're sitting with us up front. You can tell us about your daughter and your life before you inherited this company, and I can tell you all the reasons we need another female CEO in this city. None of which have anything to do with Kasen, by the way."

"Riley," Addison says, her voice soft.

"What?" Riley pauses, a frown pulling at her lips. "Oh! That wasn't me trying to get you to spill the beans about your daughter's dad. You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to tell us."

"There isn't much to tell," I murmur as we squeeze through the crowd. "We met, fell in love young, and got married. And then he was killed, so I moved to San Diego with my aunt and had Brinley there."

It's the same answer I give everyone…complete bullshit. But the truth? Well, I've never had that. I wish I did, though.

God, I wish I did.

Chapter Two

Priest

"Jesus Christ," I mutter, peering out at the crowd already gathering around the main stage, waiting for Winter's set. It's a goddamn madhouse out there. There are bodies as far as I can see. Thousands of people are crammed into the arena for the festival, leaving standing room only.

"Welcome to the big leagues, fucker." Memphis Hughes smacks me on the back, his blue eyes shining as he grins at me. "Do us all a favor and don't shit yourself, yeah?"

"How about you get fucked?" I growl, flipping him off.

He throws his head back, laughing in response. The asshole. I swear to Christ, the man is never serious about anything. Typical drummer. But he and I have gotten close since I joined Winter's band a few months ago. He's a solid motherfucker.

Me? Well, I guess we'll see. If I've ever played a show this big, I don't remember it. Don't remember much about much, honestly. My life started six years ago. Everything before that is a great, big blank.

I know I came from somewhere, but I don't know where. And I know I was going somewhere, but I don't know where I was going, either. Everything in between is a void too, sucked away in a black hole of Jamais vu and retrograde amnesia.

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