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Why the hell did I not lock the door!

I thought I did!

I bolt toward the front door, when it flies open.

Shit! I have no way out.

Trapped!

Again!

Oxygen is ripped from my lungs as I raise the guitar, ready to swing it at whoever walks through the front door. Ready to fight for my life, just like I did for years.

Chapter 5

Sadie

My heart slams into my chest and blood roars in my eardrums as a guy barrels inside the front door with a huge-ass grin on his face.

“Hell yeah, it’s—”

Without hesitation, I cut him off by swinging the guitar forward.

“What the hell?” His arm swiftly shoots up, stopping the guitar right before it slams against the side of his head.

I slowly and very embarrassingly realize the person standing in front of me isn’t an intruder breaking in to kill me. It’s Sage Davis.

“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry.” I slap my hand over my mouth. “I thought you were someone trying to break in.”

“It’s okay,” Sage says, a little breathless. “I probably should’ve knocked first, but Lyric gave me a key. I thought it’d be funny to scare the shit out of them.”

I take a few measured breaths before I lower my trembling hand from my mouth. “They’re not here. You did scare the crap out of me, though. But, I guess you probably kind of got that.”

“Yeah, I definitely did.” His shock turns into amusement as he casually slants against the doorjamb and gives me that lazy, I-know-I’m-hot smile. “I kind of feel sorry for the bastard who does dare to try to break in. You’re kind of a badass, Sadie. You came about an inch away from knocking me out cold.”

Suddenly, Nolan, the bassist in the band, walks in through the sliding glass door. He glances at the guitar in my hand raised like a baseball bat then shoots Sage a curious look. “Whoa. What’d I miss?”

“Sadie’s not very happy about our little entrance,” Sage explains, amusement sparkling in his eyes as he winks at me. “She was going to beat me with her guitar to punish me, but I talked her out of it. Told her a whip was much more useful for punishment.”

My cheeks are on fire, and my heart stupidly flutters as I lower the guitar to my side. Whenever I’m around Sage, he always manages to do something that makes butterflies go all kinds of mad-wild inside my stomach. I can’t go there, though. No, I think I might be doomed to be alone.

“I didn’t know it was you guys. I thought someone was breaking in,” I lamely tell Nolan.

I want to shut my eyes and back away from the room, lock myself in my bedroom, away from the world.

I turn toward Sage, not looking him in the eye. “I’m really sorry for almost hitting you.”

“Relax, I’m only messing with you.” Sage reaches toward me, to pat me on the shoulder, pull me in for a kiss—who the hell knows? And for a moment, I consider staying where I am and finding out. Then my fear gets the best of me and I shuffle back.

“Are Lyric and Ayden here?” Nolan asks.

I shake my head, turning toward him. “They went to the store to buy some stuff for the place.” I fidget with the hem of my black T-shirt then fiddle with the leather bands on my wrists. “They should be back soon, though.”

Nolan’s forehead creases. “I thought I heard them practicing when I walked up to the door.”

I slant my guitar against the wall and wrap my arms around myself. “That was me, actually.”

“Really?” He smiles. “Wow. You sounded pretty awesome.”

With his blond hair and baby blue eyes, Nolan is the polar opposite of Sage, looking as though he’s part of a pop boy band instead of the alternative rock one he plays for. He’s definitely cute, but my heart doesn’t lose its damn mind when he smiles at me. Oddly, it makes him way easier to talk to.

“I didn’t know you played.” Sage observes me with intrigue.

I shrug, feeling extremely self-conscious with so much attention on me. “I mess around sometimes. It helps me calm down when …” I trail off as they both stare at me expectantly, waiting for me to finish the sentence.

They have to be curious about why their guitarist’s younger sister is so twitchy. I even heard Sage ask Ayden about it once. Ayden told him to drop it—he’s always been a good, protective big brother like that, even if he doesn’t think so.

“It’s just something I do.” I shrug again. “A hobby, to fill up time.”

“You sounded pretty good for someone just filling up time,” Nolan says matter-of-factly. “Maybe it should be more than just a hobby.”

I pick at my nails, uncomfortable with the compliment. “Thanks, but I don’t think I could ever do what you guys do.”

“I used to be the same way. It just took some time to get used to.” Nolan offers me a small, I’ll-let-it-go smile when he notices how fidgety I’ve become. “No pressure. I was just throwing an idea out there.”

I smile tensely. “I think I’ll stick with it being a hobby for now, but thanks.”

He gives a one-shoulder shrug then heads toward the kitchen that extends from the living room, muttering something about having the munchies thanks to Sage hotboxing every car and place they’ve hung out at today.

I watch Nolan rummage around in the mostly empty fridge, keeping my gaze on him for probably way longer than I should. I know the moment I look away, I’ll have to meet Sage’s intense stare. I can feel it right now, boring a hole into my head. He does that a lot, not just with me, but with girls in general. Sometimes when he looks at me, it feels as if he wants to pin me down and get me to confess my secrets. He may think he wants to hear why I’m so uneasy all the time, but if I did let my soul bleed out in front of him, he’d wish he never looked at me to begin with.

“I’m jealous,” he finally divulges, drawing my attention to him. And just like I guessed, his soul-piercing gaze is fixed on me. It takes all of my strength not to run like hell and hide.

“Oh, yeah? About what?” I ask, sinking down on top of a small stack of boxes that still need to be unpacked.

“That Nolan got to hear you sing and I didn’t.” He drags a barstool over and plops down on it, sitting so close our knees almost touch.

His closeness makes my pulse race. I want to shift away, but I’ve already made myself look like a spaz too much within the last couple of minutes, so I force myself to stay put, a move my therapist would be proud of.

“You could always just sing for me and make it all better.” One side of his mouth pulls up to a half-smile that makes my stomach somersault.

If I ever could somehow get around my blinding fear of speaking about my past aloud, I’d probably cave and tell him whatever he wanted to hear. But the blinding fear does exist beneath my skin, polluting my body, possessing my mind and soul.

My fear owns me.

I swiftly shake my head. “I really wish I could, but I can’t.”

“But, Nolan i

s going to hold it over my head forever that he’s heard you and I haven’t.” He pouts, jutting out his bottom lip. “I’ll never get to hear the end of it.”

I breathe in through my nose and exhale from my mouth, trying to calm down. “Sorry. I-I really wish I could.”

“Sadie, relax. It’s cool,” he says. “If you don’t want to sing for me, then that’s okay. I get it. Trust me. Stage fight can be a real bitch.”

“Really? Did you used to have stage fright, too?” I ask in surprise. “Because that’s kind of hard to picture.”

“Well, I didn’t have stage fright, per se. But I witnessed Lyric get over it.” He slants forward, resting his tattooed arms on his knees. “Although, she still hasn’t fully gotten over it. Last weekend, she almost threw up right before we went on.”

“I thought she was getting better?”

“That is better. She used to actually throw up.”

I scrunch up my nose. “I feel so bad for her. It has to be so nerve-racking being a singer and always being in the spotlight in front of all those people.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s not really a big deal. I think she only got sick last weekend because we sold out. There were so many fucking people there … It was crazy.”

I tuck a strand of my wavy brown hair behind my ear. “That’s really cool that you guys sold out, though, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He grins. “Hopefully, our tour will sell out to. Now, that’d be awesome.”

“I’m sure it will.” I’m proud of myself for carrying on the conversation without running away. I want to give myself a pat on the back, but I don’t want to give Sage even more reasons to think I’m insane. “You guys are really good.”

“Being good doesn’t always lead to being popular or successful, though. Sometimes, it’s just plain luck.”

“I have a rabbit’s foot you can borrow,” I lamely joke, and then shake my head at myself.

He chuckles. “Yeah, I think it might take more luck than that.” He cocks his head to the side and studies me intently. “You could always come with us. Be our good luck charm.”

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