Page 28 of Rocked: The Price of Dreams

With our arms hooked around each other’s shoulders or waists, we headed out of the hospital.

My heart shuddered. I couldn’t understand why Claire wanted to protect William. If that was love and marriage, I never wanted to go down that path.

As we walked toward the taxi bay, a shiver shot up my spine, freezing the breath in my lungs. Kyle’s dad limped toward us across the parking lot. With a baseball cap pulled low over his brow—no doubt to hide his bruises—he kept his head down.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Kyle hissed, then stormed toward him.

Did Kyle have a death wish? Willing to take on his dad again?

Hunter and I rushed after him. Yep. We had one too. We’d take on William any day to keep Kyle safe.

Kyle shoved his father on the shoulder. “You put her in hospital, asshole. What the fuck?”

But William just took the shove and glared at Kyle with regret, anger, and sorrow consuming his eyes.

“I...I didn’t mean to.” William’s voice wobbled as he held his hand toward Kyle’s face and raised a shaky finger. “Did...did I do that?”

“You know perfectly well you did.” Kyle’s voice sliced through his clenched teeth. The muscles in his jaw tensed. “You hurt me and my friends.”

William fell back a step. His gaze jumped from Hunter, then to me. “What? Oh my God.” Tears welled on the rims of his red eyes. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone.”

My head throbbed. I couldn’t get the replay of what happened last night out of my mind, but the mortification on William’s face made me falter. Did I feel sorry for him?

Wait...no. This was what addicts did. This was what Kyle put up with all the time—the manipulation, the guilt trip, the apologies that led to hope that it would get better. I wouldn’t fall for William’s please-forgive-me bullshit.

Neither would Kyle.

“But you did.” With tears pooling in his eyes, Kyle quaked. “You’re always sorry. You always say it’s not going to happen again. But it does. And each time it gets worse. Your apologies mean nothing anymore.”

William lowered his chin and shook his head. “I...I don’t remember last night. I woke up on the floor. You and your mom were gone.”

“Doesn’t that freak you the fuck out?” Kyle’s shoulders slouched. “You scared the living shit out of me and my friends. You could’ve fucking killed us.”

The blood drained from William’s face. The reality too real. Too close.

Hunter took a tiny step forward. “Mr. Mac, do you remember smashing Kyle’s guitar? Shoving him into the keyboard? Breaking our stuff?”

William swayed on his feet as he wiped his hand across his chin. “I’m sorry. I’ll replace everything, I promise.”

Trembling in my sneakers, I clutched onto Kyle’s arm for support. I didn’t want to upset William and have him lash out at us again. He’d never done so when sober, but after last night, I was afraid that the slightest thing could set him off. “You beat us up so bad, Mr. Mac, we can’t play at the festival this weekend. Our hands are messed up. We’re unable to perform in front of music reps.” Shit. We still had to call the event managers and cancel. My lungs ached, drawing in air. I hated that we’d lost our biggest opportunity to play. We’d never be asked back.

While that sucked, I was more concerned for Kyle and his mom. I tightened my grip on his arm. “But we had to help Kyle. We thought you were going to kill him. We tried to warn Claire, but you hurt her too. This can’t keep happening, Mr. Mac.”

“Gemma.” With hooded eyes, William shook his head. “I never meant to hurt you.”

I wished I could believe him. But I couldn’t.

“But you fucking did.” Kyle clenched his hands. Every ounce of his anger and hurt slammed into my chest. His voice shuddered. “It wasn’t just me and Mom this time, Dad. You’re out of control.”

William stiffened and sucked in a deep breath. “I said I was sorry. Isn’t that enough?” He went to push past Kyle, but Kyle grabbed his arm.

“No. Not this time.” Kyle spun his dad to face him. He threw William a chilling glare. Refusing to back down, Kyle raised his voice and stabbed his finger toward the steps. “You put Mom in fucking hospital. You’ve gone too far.”

My knees shook. Were more punches about to fly? Straightening, I flexed my sore hands, ready to defend Kyle. Hunter threw me a quick glance and nodded. Yep, we were on the same wavelength.

But the air around us warped with a heaviness that pressed down on my shoulders. William slumped and thumped his fist against his chest. “Don’t you think that breaks my heart? Seeing you and your friends injured makes me sick to the stomach.” He clutched onto the center of his polo shirt and yanked it. “I hate myself for doing this.”

“Good,” Kyle snapped. “Then do something about it. Right now. If you have any remorse and regret, admit you have a fucking problem. Go get help. Today. Or Mom and I don’t come home.”

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