Page 32 of Heart Break Her

“Well, I’m still not fucking her. Happy?”

Noah rolls his eyes like there’s no way he believes it.

“Then why?” Adrian asks again, all of them staring at me. “I’m not going to sugarcoat this for you to spare your feelings right now. I’ve been doing that enough lately, and maybe that’s the problem. First, it was the alcohol. Then, it was the drugs. Now, it’s both, with a fucking sex tape added to the mix. What’s next?”

What’s next?

If it were up to me, one of the first couple things would have already put me out of my misery. Too bad they didn’t.

God, if they could read my mind, I’d sound like such a selfish prick. I have everything most people would sell their souls to get. But inside, I’m caving in on myself, and I’m not sure how much more of the darkness I can take.

But that’s not the worst part. If I was the only one burning at the stake, that I could handle. That, I’m used to. Only now, Cassie is standing beside me, and she doesn’t deserve what my flames of hell have brought her.

I kick my feet off the table and plant them on the ground, leaning my elbows forward onto my thighs. I drag my hands through my hair and realize it’s been a full day since the tape released and the space around me still hasn’t stopped spinning.

“Why do I have the feeling this gets worse?” Eloise asks, using her twin, voodoo shit again to read my mind. I really hate it when she does that.

I look up and lock on Adrian’s eyes, knowing there’s no avoiding what needs to be said. Until he knows the truth, he’s not going to agree to Cassie being here, and I’m not going to send her away until I fix everything I can.

“There’s something you should know,” I tell them, fighting against the lump in my throat. “Cassie is Myth’s sister.”

A pin could drop on the other side of the city, and I’m sure we’d hear it. Adrian’s eyes widen, and Eloise loses all color in her face.

Cassie might be under the impression Myth was just another roadie who worked on our crew. After all, he was a wild dude. He did a lot of shit, smoked a lot of weed, and snorted a lot of coke. But beyond the party animal he embraced, he was also family.

Mybestfriend.

I was so screwed up in the head once we started getting famous, losing myself in the notoriety, the drugs, the women. I should have fallen over the edge. I should be dead right now. But Myth was there to bring me back to reality every time I got too close.

He was there for the good, the bad, the horrible. Everything.

And the whole band knows it.

What they also know is that he was insistent on keeping his real family away from this one—as far away as possible.

“What do you mean your sister was at the show tonight? Why didn’t you bring her backstage? The band’s been dying to meet her.”

“You mean, you’ve been dying to meet her?” Myth glared at me.

“There’s only one reason you’d keep her away. She’s hot as fuck, isn’t she? Don’t trust her not to fall for this face or something?” I framed my face with my hands, and he punched me in the arm.

“Your face is nothing but trouble,” Myth said.

“I’ll be good, promise.”

“I know, man.” Myth shook his head. “But my sister’s a good girl. Can’t risk it.”

“Fuck it, fine,” I said, stumbling into a speaker.

Myth grabbed my arm and steadied me before I fell on my face.

“Dude, what’s going on with you? I thought you were cutting back?”

I shook him off. “Cutting back like you?” I raised an eyebrow at him. He was worse than any of us.

“You’re better than this,” Myth said with a certain look in his eyes. “Be better than I am.”

Myth’s eyes still haunt me.

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