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He scrambles to his knees and crawls over to London, who lies motionless on the living room floor. Wes scoops his arm under her shoulders and lifts her head up off the floor. This doesn’t awaken her at all. Her head drops back as Wes says her name over and over.

Oh, shit, what have I done?

I squat down beside her and place my hand on her chest to feel it rise and fall. When I know she’s breathing, I wrap my arms around her, hug her to my body, and kiss her face. “Oh, God. London, I’m so sorry.” I bury my face into her dark hair and sob. “Please wake up. I’m so sorry. So sorry.”

I say it over and over again like a chant before I squeeze my eyes shut and scold myself for being drunk. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion, and I’m not in my right mind to know how to help her.

Wes jerks his gaze toward me. “Don’t just sit there! Get off your ass and call nine-one-one!”

His brash tone grabs my attention as I sit there in horror, realizing that I’ve just hurt the one person that I love most in this world. If things keep going like this . . . if I keep fucking up . . . I am going to ruin her life, and that’s the last thing I ever want to do.

“Jared!” Wes’s voice cuts through my groggy thought process. “Make the Goddamn call!”

I shake my head as if to try and shake some sense into it as I push myself up off the floor. I grab the phone and quickly dial the number to get help.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” the female operator calmly asks from the other end of the line.

“Um, we need an ambulance. My girlfriend . . . she’s hurt,” I say.

“Is she injured?” the woman asks.

I stare down at London’s limp body in Wes’s arms. “Yes. She got hit in the head.”

“Is she breathing?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, sir, I’m sending someone right now. I’ll need you to tell me where she was struck . . .”

The operator goes on and on, but I’m so focused on London that I don’t process everything the woman on the phone is telling me. I need her to wake up—I need to know that she’s okay. I won’t be able to live with myself if I hurt her.

“Sir . . . sir?”

God knows my brother, who is clearly in love with London, will never forgive me for this. He’s going to hate me forever . . . and Mom . . . God, I don’t want to see the look on her face when she finds out that I’ve disappointed her again. It was so hard to see it the day she picked me up from jail. I never want to see that in her eyes again.

I don’t think I can take it.

London stirs on the floor, and I can tell she’s starting to come to. I can’t face her—not after what I did—and my face is probably the last thing she wants to see right now.

I drop the phone down by Wes’s side, and he stares up at me with an expression that can only be labeled as confused. “What the hell?”

“I can’t . . .” That’s all I can manage to say before I turn on my heel and walk out the door.

I’m so out of control right now. I’m putting the woman I love in danger, and I won’t allow anything to hurt her ever again—including me.

“Jared!” Wes screams from the other side of the door, but I keep going without looking back.

Unable to go back home, I hop in my truck and drive around the corner and park to sleep off all the liquor I drank. I’m not sure how long I was out, but a pounding on my window jerks me out of a deep sleep. Beams of sunlight shine in my face, so I have to squint as I roll down the window. When my vision comes into focus, the girl I met a few days ago with jet-black hair and the pink stripe stands there with her hands on her hips. Her all-black appearance screams rocker, and the matching skull-and-crossbones earrings make her outfit complete.

“You again,” she says as she snaps her gum. “Does this mean you want to join the band?”

Completely confused, I raise one eyebrow. “Huh?”

She motions to the small blue house behind her. “This is the address on the card I gave you for the band, remember?”

Mentally I flip back through when I met her, and a name comes to mind. “Lick Me and Split?”

She nods with a grin on her face. “Catchy, right? So are you in? We’re leaving to head out on tour.” She points in front of my truck to where a bunch of other girls dressed in the same fashion as her take turns loading different instruments into the back. “We got a break playing a few shows in Nashville, opening up for some newly signed band for Mopar Records. They’re called Black Falcon, and they’re supposedly some group of badass hard rock guys. From everything I read about them online, looks like the women love them, which will be good for us. Plus they’re signed to a record label, so we’re sure to get some exposure—might even get us signed.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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