Page 110 of Heartbreaker

Sweat drips down my spine. My hands spasms on the steering wheel. Mind racing, lungs straining, I drop my forehead to the steering wheel and wait.

I need to fix this.

I need to find a way to make it right.

I need to findJade.

That, thankfully, helps me crawl out of the panic. A first step unclenches the hand wrapped around my heart, finally loosens the tight shackles that prevent my lungs from drawing in enough air.

Eventually, I’m able to remember how to breathe, to get enough oxygen into my body that my mind begins to clear.

I yank a napkin from the glovebox, wipe my face, my hands.

My cell buzzes.

BRIAR: It’s not too late to fix it.

I don’t respond to her message.

I should, considering that Briar is one of the most important people in my life and has been by my side through thick and thin.

But I don’t.

Because I owe Jade the first explanation. No, the first apology.

No, I owe the woman I love something that will prove to her exactly how much I know I fucked up, exactly how much she means to me, exactly the lengths I will go to make things right.

Jade deserves the world.

Not a washed-up rock star too miserable for his own good.

So, no. I don’t respond to Briar.

And I don’t try to text or call Jade again.

Instead, I back out of the driveway and go to the one person I know has his finger on the pulse of exactly where Jade is.

Dash.

Or Dash’soffice.

He scowls at me as he tugs open the door, and I’m not dumb enough to miss that he doesn’t invite me in.

“Is she here?” I rasp.

His hazel eyes are molten with rage. “She’s not here,” he growls. “Not that I would tell you if she was, asshole.”

I don’t bother getting mad back.

I deserve that rage.

And it doesn’t help me make this right.

“I fucked up,” I admit. “I know that, man. I just…” I grind my teeth together, every instinct hating that I need to lay it on the line, even as every instinct is telling me Ineedto lay it on the line. “I fucked up bad. But she blocked me and she isn’t home and…”

Dash’s face has gone blank and I sigh.

“I can’t fix it if I don’t know where she is. I’ve been to Nashville, to Tahoe. I’ve called Kate and Maddie and even her fucking record company. No one is talking to me.” He snorts and I ignore it, pushing on. “I’m begging you, man. I’mbeggingyou to tell me where she is.”

---