Excitement lines the brunette’s face. . . until reality dawns. I’m not offering to look after her and the baby; I’m proposing she get an abortion.
“I couldneverdo that.” She clutches a gold cross hanging around her neck as her eyes fill with tears. I feel bad, but I don’t know what she expects from me. We got together once—one fucking time—this can’t be the outcome for an event I don’t even remember.
“I can’t take care of a kid right now. I’m not financially stable; I don’t have a house. I don’t have anything I could offer a kid.”I also don’t want to be a father, especially not with you.
“That’s okay; I can support all three of us. I have some money my daddy left me, and I could get a job. It’ll all work out.”
My heart wallops my ribs as everything I’ve ever wanted slips between my fingers. This is why I have rules, to stop shit like this from happening.
I stop staring into space when Noah’s voice filters into the parking lot. His jagged sentence reveals he is completing a sound check. It also reminds me about our important performance tonight. “I have to go. I have to go perform.” My words are as dazed and dizzy as my head.
“I can meet you after the show?” she suggests, following me into Mavericks.
In my disoriented state, I nod. It's stupid of me to do, but I’ve got more important matters to take care of right now. I’m late—again—and my bandmates won’t be happy about it.
“About time, fuckface,” Slater growls when I stumble onto the stage.
I flip him the bird before crouching down to help Noah set up my guitar amp. “Sorry I’m late. I had some shit to sort out.”Shit that’s going to turn my life upside fucking down.
The lady claiming I’ve fathered her child takes a seat at one of the barstools at the back of Mavericks. Even though I avoid looking at her, I can feel her beady eyes watching my every move. Her eager gaze has my stomach swirling so much, I know there’s no way I’ll complete our set without barfing.
When Noah jumps off the stage to take a leak, I make my way to the still nameless stranger. Her seedy smirk morphs into a full smile when I stop to stand in front of her. “Can I grab your details and call you tomorrow?”
With the fog in my head lifting, so is my rationality. Our band has been waiting years for this opportunity, and I refuse to let a little slip-up fuck with our chance of making it big.
Smiling a fake, weirdo grin, she nods. After snagging a napkin off the countertop, she scribbles her name and number on it, marks the corner with her bright pink lips, then hands it to me.
“Megan,” I read off the napkin. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
She hops off the barstool, then balances on her tippy toes to press a kiss to my cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
With that, she skips out of Mavericks with an extra spring in her step. I return to the stage, but my steps are nowhere near as springy as hers.
* * *
Halfway through our set, Noah motions for me to look at the bar. I balk when I witness Emily stumbling. I’ve never seen her touch a drop of alcohol in the six months she’s watched us performed, let alone in private.
When a guy bands his arm around Emily’s waist, my heart sinks into my stomach. There’s something very wrong with this picture.
Before I can work through my confusion, Noah dives off the stage. He charges for the man dragging a nearly unconscious Emily toward the back alley of Mavericks, his steps as tight as his fists are clenched. Shockingly, I follow after him.
After pulling Emily to a safe distance, Noah begins pummeling the guy’s face, while I stand by and watch. I don’t have a chance in hell of lugging Noah off him. He’s a good four to five inches taller than me, and a couple of pounds heavier.
It’s only when I yell that Emily needs him does he stop beating the guy’s face in. She’s lying on the ground with her flopped head resting on Jacob’s thigh.
I get a bit of dirt in my eye when Noah scoots across the wooden floorboards to cradle Emily in his lap. The look in his eyes. . .god. Pure devastation. As he begs for Emily to wake up, my thoughts stray to Jenni. I’ve never been a fighter, but I’m pretty sure I would have responded in the exact manner Noah did if it were her lying unconscious on a dirty bar floor.
* * *
The next twenty minutes pass in a blur. Noah goes to the hospital with Emily, while the band issues statements to a detective who is a friend of Noah and Jacob’s. Although tonight was our chance to showcase our talents to the music executives who turned up specifically to watch our show, no one cares. At the moment, ensuring Emily is safe is the only thing on our minds.
When I finish giving my statement to Ryan, he gives me permission to leave. My jaw muscle spasms when I walk past the man who roofied Emily. I’ve never understood why guys drug women to sleep with them. Believe me, there are plenty of women on the prowl every weekend. If you can’t find the one you’re looking for, you’ve just got to lower your standards.
As I break through the main doors of Mavericks, I yank my phone out of my pocket. The message I should have sent hours ago sits open on the screen. It adds to the heaviness on my chest while also ensuring I’m doing the right thing.
After hitting send, I dial Jenni’s number. She’s so devastated when I inform her what happened to Emily, she instantly begins packing. I hear her sobs over the clunking of her suitcase when she drags it down from her closet.
It takes a lot of pleading, but I eventually convince her not to catch the first flight home. Noah has everything under control, and she has classes to prepare for in the morning. She only agrees to my suggestion because I promise to check on Emily with my very own eyes, and even then, it was still one hell of a fight.
