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My head cocks to the side. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I’m eighteen and technically don’t need a guardian’s permission to go through with the treatment.” He leans forward and tugs on my arm, so I sit up straight. Then he laces his fingers through mine. “I don’t want it to come to that,” he says, staring down at our hands, “but, at the same time, I can’t stop thinking about Sadie and how, if I could just see the people’s faces, then maybe the police could track her down and make some arrests.”

I take a minute or two to prepare myself for what I’m going to say next. “I get what you’re saying—I really do—but what are the risks, exactly? I mean, how dangerous are we talking?”

“There’s a short list of them,” he answers with hesitancy. “Like memory loss and stress on the heart, but if the treatment’s done right, then nothing should go wrong.”

I make a mental note to search online for the side effects. If they’re bad, then I’m going to talk him out of it. The last thing I ever want is for him to get hurt or, worse, lose him. My heart aches just thinking about it.

“Look, I get that, no matter what, it’s kind of risky. And it’s not going to be easy . . . seeing the stuff I’ve forgotten. I know my mind blocked it out for a reason.” With his free hand, he scratches his head. “But I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t at least try. And I really need you to support me and be there for me.”

Dammit. He said he needs me. There goes my plan of talking him out of it.

“All right, I can do that, I guess. But I’m not going to lie; I’m scared of what’s going to happen. I don’t . . .” I swallow hard. “I don’t want to lose you.” Because I love you.

I’m in love with you.

Love you so much

I feel like I’m going to combust,

Shatter into pieces that scatter

Through the wind and rain,

Blow away and get lost.

Lost, lost, lost

In my love for you.

Now he’s the one to gulp. “You won’t. I promise.”

“Hey, you two love birds, we’re up!” Nolan shouts mockingly from behind us.

I crinkle my nose. “Sometimes, I wish you and I could just be a duo.”

He smiles thoughtfully. “That’d be nice, but considering I can’t sing, it’d be more of a solo and a half band.”

“It still sounds better right now.” I push to my feet and tug my skirt into place. “Those two are getting on my nerves.”

He strokes my cheekbone with his finger. “Want me to throw a basketball at them to see if I can get them to shut up? I mean, I do still owe you for that.”

Smiling, I ponder the idea. “While I know you’re kidding, I’m seriously considering it.”

“Well, let me know when you decide,” he jokes, crouching down to unlatch his guitar case. “I’m going to go hurry and dry off the best I can before we go on.”

“Why? You rock the wet shirt look pretty well.”

He keeps his head tucked down. “Maybe, but I’d feel super awkward.”

“Well, you look sexy when you’re awkward, too.” I plant a kiss on the top of his head then squeeze through the curtains and skip off to set up with Sage and Nolan.

A few racing heartbeats later, Ayden joins us and hooks up his guitar to the amp while I adjust the microphone stand. The lights beam brightly and blind me to the point where I can hardly see anyone in the room. Still, I know they’re all out there, and those crazy ass butterflies in my stomach start taunting me again.

Thankfully, about a minute later, Sage slams the sticks against the drums, and Ayden strums the strings of his guitar. The sounds of the instruments block out my focus on the audience as my lips part.

“Rush. Rush. Rush.

My heart is rushing like the rain,

Erasing every ounce of pain from my body

And spilling it below me.

My sins bleed into the water,

Soaking through the ground.

Rush. Rush. Rush.

I close my eyes and feel myself disappear.

A skeleton of myself, a ghost of my soul,

I’ll never give in to anyone.

I’ll never go through this again.

Rush. Rush. Rush.”

The lyrics are more morbid than what I normally sing, but I wrote them on a whim while I was bored one day and watched way too many depressing movies. When I sang it to my dad, he thought it rocked awesomeness, so I shared it with the band.

It’s the first time I’ve sung it on stage before. The upbeat tempo has the crowd going wild, dancing and head banging, feeding me with the fuel I need to really get into the performance.

By the time I sang our full set, I’m dripping with sweat and grinning as I bounce backstage. Sage and Nolan high-five me on their way out, but Ayden seems a bit distracted. He passes by me without so much as a glance in my direction.

“What’s up?” I chase after him, back past the curtain and to the flat area near the exit doors.

He carefully sets his guitar in the case. “It’s nothing.” His brows dip. “I just . . . I just had the strangest feeling someone was watching me, but I can’t figure out why.”

“Did you maybe see someone in the crowd that you know?”

“No, it’s not that . . .” He trails off then shakes his head. “Never mind. I’m just being paranoid.” When he faces me, he forces a smile. “Let’s go celebrate your amazing performance.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I want to celebrate my awesome performance, too.” His lips quirk with genuine amusement.

I thrum my fingers together evil-villain style. “Hmmm, whatever shall we do?”

“Party.” Sage appears out of nowhere like a freaking ninja with a bottle of champagne in his hand.

“Dude, did you jack that from the bar?” I reach for the bottle.

He dodges out of my reach. “Actually, I stole it from my mom’s fridge. She has as least ten bottles of it, so she won’t notice.” He looks down at the bottle. “Although, I wish it were a bottle of Bacardi.” He shrugs then grips the bottle in front of him and, with his thumb, pops the cork.

The bottle hisses and foam shoots all over the floor. I jump out of the path of the spraying foam while Sage takes a swig then offers me the bottle.

I take the drink from him. “I’m down, but you’ve totally got to take the fall for the mess on the floor if my dad finds out. I’m already on thin ice with him.” I angle my head back and chug some champagne.

“Why? What’d you do?” Nolan asks, intrigued, as he joins our circle. He snatches the bottle from me after I lower it from my mouth and downs at least a quarter of the bottle.

I shrug, giving a discreet glance at Ayden. “Just some stuff.”

“Stuff as in . . .” Sage’s shifty gaze moves back and forth between Ayden and me questioningly. “Okay, never mind. Forget I asked.” He pats his pockets. “I think I’m going to go outside and smoke.” Which is code for him going outside, smoking, then hooking up with the first decent looking girl he can find.

He strides toward the exit door and pushes outside. Nolan throws back another swallow of champagne then shoves the bottle at me and hurries after Sage.

I take another sip then turn to Ayden. “You want some?” I ask, even though he more than likely will decline.

Neither of us are big drinkers, and Ayden doesn’t like doing it because he feels like he’s acting like his old self, the person he was before Aunt Lila and Uncle Ethan adopted him. So, I’m a bit startled when he grabs the bottle from me and takes a few swallows.

“You’re suddenly in a weird mood,” I remark as he hands the bottle back to me.

“I’m feeling pretty okay right now, maybe even good.” He laces his fingers through mine then stares at our interlocked hands with the faintest smile on his lips. From the sight of it, my insides get all gooey, like melted chocolate. “I was thinking we could hang out tonight

and talk.”

Interesting, since he has never been a big talker.

“Okay, you want to go home, then, and hang out in one of our rooms? Or did you have something else in mind?”

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