Page 1

Prologue

Callum

There’s too much blood.

I stare down at my hands, now soaked in the deep red liquid. My pulse skyrockets as I try to focus on anything other than the warmth that is slowly seeping from her limp body, or the metallic stench that threatens to overwhelm my senses. How the fuck did I let this happen? It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was supposed to be in control. None of this was supposed to happen, not to me, and most certainly not to her.

Never her.

The screech of fast-approaching sirens reorients me to the beautiful creature in my arms as every damp sense returns at full force. I can’t save her. It’s too late. Déjà vu hits me like a freight train as memories of a time long before struggle to resurface. My thoughts spiral as I shake her aggressively, watching intently when her head falls to the side, and her blood-soaked hair obscures my view of her face. I frantically brush the strands out of the way, needing to see all of her. I plead without words for her to return to me, tossing my head back to the stormy gray skies above.

My lungs burn as I scream out into the void. The echo of the sound is so loud that it overpowers the thunder booming in the distance, and I’m positive that even God himself can hear it. I sure as fuck hope that he did, because he’ll have to deal with me if he doesn’t return her. I’ll storm down the pearly gates until he hand delivers her to me. I’ll stop at nothing.

She’s mine.

He can’t have her. No one can have her. I’d offer myself in exchange, but I know that Heaven is no place for a man like me. Men like me aren’t likely to be granted a day pass to a place so righteous. But who am I kidding? I’m a greedy bastard, and I’d much prefer to end my life right here and drag her down to the depths of Hell with me than spend an eternity apart from her.

Heavy rainfall begins to fill the emptiness as I’m roughly pulled away from her. Fingers dig into my shoulder, forcing me to turn as I come face-to-face with a medic. He removes his hands from me and raises them in surrender. His face is bright red, and his mouth is moving, but I can’t make out a single word over the blood rushing in my ears. He can’t be more than twenty fucking years old. How is this twenty-year-old child going to do anything at all to save my girl?

A low growl rumbles through me as I fist my hands at my sides to avoid bashing his face in for no reason other than the growing need to feel something that isn’t this horrible ache in my chest. This terrible, foreign feeling that I need to go the fuck away, now. It’s eating me alive by the second, and I don’t have much longer until I’m as useless as this fucking medic beside me.

An older female medic wearing a different color top rushes past me, eyes flicking to the commotion for only the briefest of seconds. I manage to read the name embroidered on her top before she vanishes behind me. Turning, I watch as Brittany kneels beside my girl and rolls her from her side to her back. Brittany checks for a pulse that I already know she won’t find as I swallow back the emotions threatening to consume me whole. Shortly after, Brittany starts pounding on my girl’s chest as another older male runs up and slips a large board beneath her lifeless body. Why didn’t I think of that? Shit, this is not good.

The world around me grows silent as I stare down in complete horror. My thoughts catapult into worst-case scenarios, taunting me from the depths of my mind. I’m unable to control a single variable as I stand frozen, watching it all unfold before me. This is all my fault.

The rain falls now in a silent downpour, the cold seeping beneath my skin as it soaks me. I glance up as the medics begin carrying her body to the bay of the ambulance off to our side. My gaze flicks upward as they load her into the back of it, drying her off and attaching her to all kinds of shit. My body trembles, and I’m not sure if it’s from the chill of the rain or the fucked-up scene unfolding before me. Gravity tightens its grip as I fall to the ground on my elbows. I don’t feel a single thing other than a familiar numbness that settles between my emotions. The sorrowful ache that I spent years clawing my way out of slowly morphs into a deep void of nothingness. This time, though, it feels permanent.

I faintly recognize that someone is rushing toward me. It’s Brittany, I think. I can’t hear her, and her face is nothing but a mirage among the heavy rainfall. My eyes flick to the back doors of the ambulance closing, and I move to stand. Where are they taking my girl? I have to go with her. I have to get up now, but my stupid fucking legs are so heavy. I go to stand, but stumble and fall as my limbs give out. My palms slam into the wet grass, and I grab a handful of the unforgiving Earth and tug hard.

Brittany stays behind as the ambulance leaves, motioning to a white truck off toward the right. Brittany’s gaze flicks to my hands as she continues to speak, but I hear nothing at all over the chaos inside my head. So many memories, so many fucking regrets. Yet the only words I hear clear as day are the ones she sputtered out to me as she took her last fucking breath.

“I love you.”

She used every last bit of energy she had to say those three words to me. She wasted her last fucking breath on me. I didn’t deserve them. I don’t deserve them. And the worst part? I didn’t have time to say anything back before her eyes fell closed and her chest went still.

Now, I’ll never get the chance.

1

Callum

Lydia Aston is the bane of my existence.

What doesn’t she understand about one date? One.

Can the woman not count? We were supposed to go on one date and then go our separate ways. I didn’t exactly tell her about the going our separate ways thing, but it was implied. Wasn’t it? I don’t know how I could have made myself clearer. What does she need, for me to fucking spell it out? Don’t think that I won’t do it, love. I’ll stamp a sticky note right to your pretty little forehead.

I wasn’t forward with her. I didn’t flirt. I didn’t hold her hand on the way to Moonvale or open her damn door for her. Plus, I get the feeling she’s a big girl and can open her own fucking door. She’d probably have my balls for even trying in the first place. But that’s not why I didn’t open it. I didn’t want to open it. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea about any of this. We’re not a couple, and I thought I’d made that clear. Lydia is Sloane’s best friend, and Sloane is my best friend’s girlfriend. That’s it. There’s really no need to complicate it.

I think back through the night at the amphitheatre, wondering where I could have possibly gone wrong. I brought Lydia to Moonvale after promising her one date. I didn’t really think too far into that decision, considering Sloane was also going. Once we arrived and met up with the band, I sat across the room from Lydia. I kept a safe distance the entire time. Reverb played the set of our fucking lives. It was magical, truly. Everything that the guys and I have worked so hard for is finally paying off, and it was a night to remember. We went from a garage band with a small following to playing the biggest arena in the Pacific Northwest. And yeah, I know what you’re thinking. I might’ve brought Lydia backstage to our biggest show ever, but I didn’t so much as toe the fucking line with her.

Lydia Aston is gorgeous, I won’t lie. But I don’t have time for gorgeous, and I definitely don’t have time for anything that even resembles a relationship. So, no, I didn’t let on to the fact that her presence made the room a shade brighter. I didn’t allow my eyes to linger on her curvy frame. I ignored the way the moon made her blue eyes glow almost translucent, never thinking twice about the fact that I’d never seen such a vivid shade of blue until then. I most certainly didn’t acknowledge her bubbly laughter from across the room when she giggled at something Sloane said to her, and I didn’t memorize the way it sounded—or the way it made everything feel annoyingly light. I only wanted to give Lydia the one thing she asked for so that she’d leave me the hell alone once and for all.

One date.

So why the fuck is she in my bed right now?

I’m no fool. Truly, I’m not. I have lived my entire existence avoiding these exact scenarios. I don’t do relationships, and I definitely don’t take women home. I have a rigid set of rules, and that’s rule number fucking one on my list of what not to do. Don’t get me wrong, I like to fuck. In fact, I love to fuck. After all, I am only human. But what I don’t do is overnights. And I certainly don’t do fucking feelings. I don’t have time for feelings. I enjoy the simplicity of solitude. All I need is myself. The world has proven time and time again that if you allow other people too far into your personal space, they’ll only leave you fucking broken and alone in the end. I’m better off without them. The human race is generally selfish, and most people only give because they expect something back. So, yes, relying solely on myself is the obvious correct choice. The only people who know half of what I’ve been through are my band brothers—my found family. Even then, I keep every last one of them at arm’s length. It’s for their own protection. They have no idea what really happened to me inside of Sonus, and I plan to keep it that way.