Page 1 of Whenever You Call

Prologue

HANNAH

The lure of the drugs had won again.

Now, everything inside me was numb. My love for him, dead. His last chance, over.

Standing in the doorway of his music room, I stared at my husband slumped in the oversized chair. He didn’t take his eyes from the wall of accolades in front of him—his achievements gave him something to focus on, despite the fact he probably couldn’t even pick his wife and child out of a lineup if his life depended on it.

It shouldn’t have surprised me that we were here again. He was never going to change, and I’d been a fool for far too long; the ever-doting wife welcoming him back from his latest stint in rehab. I’d forgiven his many public affairs when he’d been away from home for months on end. I’d let him walk all over me for years, always falling for his false promises of change and a happier future if I gave him just one… more… chance.

I had no more left to give. He’d taken everything and ruined it.

“Mommy?” our six-year-old daughter cried from another room, her voice growing closer. “Where are you guys?”

“Stay where you are, honey. I’ll be there in a minute,” I called, not taking my eyes from Cole.

“Is Daddy there?” she asked. “Can I see him?”

“Not right now, he’s…”out of his mind. Lost to drugs again. Choosing the high of chemicals over the high of us. “Working on his music,” I said instead, sparing her the agony of knowing the man she worshiped was, in fact, a tragedy wrapped up in a charming face that got him out of trouble more than he deserved. “Why don’t you head downstairs and put your shoes on so you’re ready to go out, Bella?”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s time for a trip to Cupcake ATM, don’t you think?”

“Yes!” she cried before her little feet scurried down the marble staircase, away from the one person she wanted to be with more than anything: her father.

The famous rock star daddy America adored, yet I had grown to despise.

This life had become a circus where he performed to the crowd and set the world on fire publicly before he slipped behind the curtain and made sure the flames only scorched the hearts of the ones he was supposed to love.

He was slouched in his chair now with his legs parted, a fist pressing against one side of his head, causing his black hair to ruffle. His eyes were droopy, lost to whatever sensations currently tore through his veins. It hurt to look at him, and I was convinced there was no greater burden on Earth than to love and hate someone at the same time.

Walking across the thick, black carpet, I went to him, dropping to my haunches in front of his parted legs and resting a hand on his thigh. A final plea for the sake of my daughter to such a handsome man, carved out like a god of rock ‘n’ roll. His skin had turned ashen, his trademark black hair a greasy mess that hung over his striking blue eyes, which eventually rose to meet mine. There wasn’t even a hint of a spark in them now.

“Go away, Hannah,” he croaked.

“You promised, Cole. You swore to me this time you’d stay clean. Not for me, but for Bella.”

“Go. Away.”

“I hate you for doing this.”

“Are you finished?”

“What?” I scowled.

“I came in here for peace. You’re ruining it.” He sighed, his cracked lips forcing him to run his tongue along the bottom one.

“Is that what you want? Peace?”

“Am I not being blunt enough for you?”

“What the hell have you taken?”

His head slumped back as he closed his eyes and groaned in annoyance. “Just go already.”

“Why are youdoingthis?” I whispered.

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