Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
When the paramedics arrive, they force me to step back, and when I do, my foot lands on something. I reach down and find it’s a folded-up piece of paper with my name scrawled across the front. Needing to focus on Tori, I shove it into my pocket, praying to whatever fucking God there is that this is a mistake, a nightmare, that Tori will wake up, and I’ll see those beautiful green eyes again.
Only she never wakes up.
And I never see her green eyes again.
When she’s confirmed dead, it feels as though I’ve died right along with her.
CHAPTER ONE
GAGE
Six Years Later
“Fuck, Tori, I can’t believe it’s been six damn years since the last time I saw your face, heard your voice, felt you in my arms.” I glide my hand across the marble and release a harsh sigh. “You would’ve been twenty-four years old last week.” I place a dozen flowers into the holder. “Sorry, I couldn’t be here on your birthday. We were still on tour, and I couldn’t figure out a way to get here and back without missing a show.”
I drop onto my ass and close my eyes, wishing for the pain in my heart to go away. After all these years, you’d think the heart would be able to heal. But I swear, as I sit here and think about the only girl I’ve ever loved, my heart bleeds as badly as it did the day I lost her.
I’ve been busy for the past six years. After losing Tori, Easton put us on a plane to LA, where the guys and I signed a contract with Blackwood Records. A few months later, we released our first album and it blew the fuck up. We’ve been on several world tours, sold millions of songs and albums, and broken numerous records, but nothing relieves the constant pain deep in my soul over losing yet another woman I would’ve given my life to save.
“Sometimes, I wonder—” I start to speak, but my words are cut off by the sound of someone crying. Since I’m sitting in a cemetery, it’s not uncommon to hear someone crying, but this cry… it’s gut-wrenching like someone is literally pulling the soul out of one’s body.
When I look around, I see a woman a few gravesites down lying across the ground with her arms draped over a headstone. Her body is visibly shaking, and her cries are heartbreaking.
I’m usually one to mind my own business, but something draws me to her. Maybe it’s recognizing a kindred spirit, feeling the pain she feels.
When I walk over to her, I find her eyes are closed, and she’s actually sleeping. She’s crying, sobbing in her fucking sleep. I consider leaving her alone, but the sky is gray, and based on the dark clouds, it’s due to rain soon.
Leaning down, I gently press my palm to her shoulder to nudge her awake. It only takes a few times before she jolts awake and faces me. Her dark red hair is up in a messy bun, and when her big green eyes meet mine, bloodshot and glassy and sad, so fucking sad, I’m momentarily taken aback. Aside from the similar hair and eye color, she looks nothing like Tori, but something in her eyes reminds me of Tori. Maybe it’s the deep-seated devastation, silently begging someone to take her out of this world. I didn’t see it in Tori when she was alive because I was young and wasn’t looking for it. But after she was gone, I spent hours upon hours replaying every conversation we had, analyzing every word she spoke and didn’t speak, wondering if I could’ve prevented her from ending her own life. I was too close to the situation to see it at the time, but when I look back, there were so many signs that I didn’t see or pay attention to.
“Are you okay?” I ask the woman, who’s barely looking at me.
She nods and is about to lie back down when I point out the obvious. “It’s going to rain.”
She doesn’t even bother to look up at the sky, just nods again, then lies back down, wrapping her arms around the headstone like it’s a blanket. She doesn’t make any sound indicating that she’s crying again, but her body wracks with silent sobs. And since she isn’t my problem or my business, I walk away from her, knowing there’s no way I can save her.
I snag a cab back to the apartment I share with my friends and bandmates, Declan and Braxton, and go straight to my bedroom, so I can light up a joint and lose myself in the high. When the high isn’t enough, I pull some powder out and do a couple lines. The pain doesn’t dull, but my head goes fuzzy enough to block it out a bit. With my headphones on and music blaring, I tune the world out, refusing to think about the sad as fuck woman crying at the cemetery. I couldn’t save my mom, couldn’t fucking save Tori, hell, I can’t even save myself… I have no business thinking about that stranger or the pull that has me wanting to save her.