Page 90 of Fractured Rhythm

He turned to face me.

“Cas. I should’ve known. Why didn’t he tell me he was writing?”

“You didn’t know. He clearly kept a lot of secrets from you. From the band. From all of us. He was really good at hiding what was going on. Always with a joke or easy smile.”

As painful as going through the journal was—and I had no plans to open that book again—it weirdly made me feel closer to my brother. It was like learning something new about a person you would never see again.

And then the tears flowed.

BASH

I wrapped myarms around Cassie, tugging her into my body. It killed me to watch the tears slip silently down her face and her hold in her breath because she didn’t want to make a sound while she fell to pieces.

“Cas, what can I do?” I whispered, internally berating myself. I should’ve looked through the box first.

“Nothing,” she hiccupped. “Dammit. Does this ever get easier?”

“That’s what people say, but I’m not there yet, either.”

She turned her face into my chest, and I brushed my lips across the top of her head. Her sobs vibrated against my body, and I bit the inside of my cheek. The last thing she needed right now was for me to fall apart.

But that song.

Fucking hell.

It was raw and rough, and I wanted to work with him on finishing it, tweak it so it was exactly what he wanted.

But I couldn’t.

And that gutted me.

It was something we could’ve done together, and we never had the chance.

I didn’t know why he’d kept this from me. A million thoughts and doubts swirled through my head, which I ached to soothe with whiskey. I’d even be okay with one or two of the small nips in the minibar at the hotel.

The urge was overpowering. I’d been able to control it around Cassie, but this went beyond that and the longing to numb myself was taking over.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” she said, tilting her head back to look at me. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she took in a deep breath.

“I don’t care about the shirt,” I said, squeezing her in a hug that we both desperately needed. The opposite of death was life, and all I wanted to do right now was kiss her, but it seemed wrong.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I ignored it.

“You should get that. It’s probably Jax bugging you about going out tonight or Josh checking in,” she said, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. She sat up straight and it was like watching her physically collect herself.

“Are you going to be okay?” I asked, still ignoring my phone as it beeped with a message.

She blew out a laugh. “No. But that’s what grief is: perfectly fine one minute and falling apart the next.”

“Fucking sucks, doesn’t it,” I said.

Her laugh was watery. “Yes, it does.”

“How about we go back to the hotel, order takeout or room service or anything you want, and binge on Netflix?”

“That sounds amazing, but what about Jax and going out tonight?” she asked.

“What about it? I just want to hang out with you. I always just want to hang out with you,” I said, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

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