Reaching for her, I ran my still waterlogged fingers down her arm. When she shuddered and her breathing increased, I knew this was wrong. She would never forgive me for this, if I were ever able to forgive myself.

  “B, look at me. Not like this, baby, please.” Reaching for the towel, I placed it around my waist before I lost every ounce of resolve to stop before it got started. With the towel in place, offering a barricade to my now throbbing dick, I placed my finger under her chin. “Look at me.” When her eyes raised, they were again filled with tears. I pulled her body to mine, focusing on her bare skin against my chest. She was pure, no scars or ink outlining a roadmap to a shattered soul. I had often dreamt about that moment and how she felt against my body. She fit perfectly against my chest, and her shoulders were the perfect distance that I could entwine myself around her, essentially melding her body and soul to mine. It was as if I were holding my heart in my hands. “Come with me.”

  I lifted her off the floor, and she wrapped her legs around my waist. Sweet Jesus, if it weren't for that towel, I would have lost the battle with my need, and she would have been backed against that marble wall and full of every inch of me until I was sated or she begged me to stop. I kept saying over and over in my head, Keep it together, dude. You do this, and you will have fucked everything up for eternity. There will be no going back after this. Thank God the bathroom door was open because I never took my hands off her. She placed her head on my shoulder, and neither of us said a word. Reaching the bed, I laid her down ever so gently, turned off the light by the bed, and then curled up next to her. I rested my arm over her shoulder, making sure to come nowhere near her bare breasts. As if her ass being inches from my crotch wasn't enough, I didn't need to intensify my agony by feeling her soft skin under my fingers. Brooklyn settled into sleep easily while I was as stiff as a two-by-four. I had my world within my grasp, but the timing was dead ass off. Story of my life.

  I had no idea I had fallen asleep, and when my eyes opened and I reached across to an empty bed, my heart sank. She had left. Dammit. I sat up on the mattress like a rocket was up my ass and then heard her laughter. Turning to my right, she was seated next to me and was staring at the television in the room. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I knew we were headed for a breakdown when I noticed she was wearing her wedding dress.

  “Hey, sleepy head.” As Brooklyn stood from the bed, the skintight mermaid dress showed off every asset that had been pressed to my body hours before.

  “You know I hated this dress. I wanted a simple dress and a beach wedding. Nothing fussy, but Royce insisted on the big wedding. Fuck, Syn, I didn't even know half of those people.” Pulling at the fabric on the dress, she added, “This was never me. All this bling. Jesus, this thing weighs a million pounds. I always wanted simple, Syn. I wanted the wedding to be about us. What we were committing to each other and not all the excess. I guess it’s a good thing he left me because I don’t think I could have kept up with him. I am not that girl. I tried to be her, and it never really felt right. Like I was living someone else’s life. A lie I guess you could say. I tried to be true to myself, but I started to lose sight of who that really was. Royce kept telling me over and over the last six months that I needed to get my shit together.” She sighed, and her shoulders slumped forward. She was so defeated from fighting this internal war that it was beginning to show on the outside.

  “I was not keeping up with his needs. Seriously. Sexually, I was not what he needed. He wanted a baby, Syn, and I wasn't ready. I am not someone’s mother. I wasn’t ready. There was so much I wanted to do with my life. Plus, I wasn’t sure I could handle being responsible for another person—you know what I mean. If I take a look back on it all now, I guess it had been coming for a while, but it still sucks, though. Reality fucking sucks. I can’t decide if I’m mad that it is over, or that I led myself to believe that it ever really was.”

  Okay, now I was one hundred billion percent for all that was holy going to find that dickbag and kick his ass for talking to her like that and making her feel worthless. I knew all too well what verbal abuse was, and Royce was going to have a convo with my fist before this was all said and done. Brooklyn pushed herself off the bed, squared her shoulders, and said, “Marry me, Syn.”

  I had to pick my jaw up off the floor. This was not happening.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I asked you to marry me. Come on. We’re in Vegas. I already have a dress.”

  Jesus Christ, was she serious? Tread lightly, Syn. Swinging my feet around and placing them onto the floor, I reached for her hand, and as she sat next to me, I knew the next words would change my life.

  “Brooklyn, look at me.” I took her face in my hands and forced her to look at me. “You know I love you, baby girl, but I can’t do this. Every part of me wants to tell you yes. To wrap you in my arms and marry your mind, body, and soul to mine.” Her eyes never left mine, nor did mine from hers. “You want some help with that?” I asked as I watched Brooklyn put her arms behind her back, trying desperately to reach the dress’s zipper. She jumped and shimmied around the room with a determined scowl. One minute we were arguing, the next she was asking me to marry her, and now I was thirty seconds away from helping her undress.

  “No,” she said as she continued to writhe around. Finally, reaching exhaustion, Brooklyn threw her arms to her sides, and in a huff she stopped moving and looked right at me. We were at an impasse. Something had to move us forward. I had to move us forward.

  “You deserve better than me. Look at me, Brooklyn. You deserve everything I’m not. A guy that will come home to you every night, not one that is on the road. You deserve a heart that can love you for everything you are, not a heart like mine. It is killing me to see you like this. Every part of me wants to make this better. I have always and will always want to make everything perfect for you. It’s what you deserve. You have no idea how much I wish I were able to give you what you should have. If that were my reality, I would marry you in a minute. Hell, I would have married you years ago, but you know I can’t.”

  As Brooklyn brought her hands to mine, I brushed my thumb over her cheek. When she squeezed my hand, I had to break the connection. She leaned up on her toes and placed the most delicate kiss on my lips. “I know. You have no idea how much I wish it could be enough. You can’t blame a girl for asking, though.”

  As her hands left mine, she turned around and pointed to her back. Placing my fingers on the zipper, I took great pleasure and time pulling the zipper and exposing her bare flesh inch by inch. When the dress fell to the floor, she stepped out of the pool of white. I watched her walk away and enter the bathroom. I didn’t know what to do. I just had everything I wanted, and I turned it away. When I heard the water start, I threw myself back onto the mattress. I was breathing too fast. I closed my eyes and could see every hit, every hateful act from the man who broke me. In my life, I never thought I could have hated him more for what he did to me. When the reality of saying no to her sank in, I hated him more. He was the reason I wasn’t whole and couldn’t have a life. In that moment, I wanted him dead for not only what he had taken from me as a child, but for what he was denying me as an adult.

  Brooklyn - Glitter, Girls, and Decisions

  Present Day

  Tonight’s show was awesome. No, it was epic. Bally’s was packed, and there was just an amazing vibe among all the girls. I think they were happy to have me back, if only for one night. When the show finished, there was a rush of activity with all the girls headed down the tiny staircase to the dressing rooms. The thumps and clicks of all the heels off the wooden steps sounded like a pack of wolves. Taking the steps with ease, I realized my first time back in six-inch heels in over two months was like a newborn deer getting his first lesson on how to walk.

  I could not help but think how we looked like a group of crazed fangirls rushing the stage at a concert. We were covered in glitter, double-sided tape, and nylon. The sounds of conversations, pep talks about the show, and plans being made for the after-party filled my ears and made me sad. It was humbling when you experienced joy, pleasure, and knew that it would be the last time that you got to do something. I was going to miss this more than I wanted to admit. I had to keep telling myself that I had bigger plans for my future. No matter how hard I tried to convince my heart that saying goodbye was the right thing, it didn't feel right. They had no idea I was not coming back. There was zero chance I was going to make it through that conversation without tears, so I lied. I told them I would be back next month, and that was that. Knowing I was doing the right thing did not stop my mind from capturing every moment in slow motion. The way the girls looked, the laughter, the smells of perfume and sweat. The sparkle of the sequins and rhinestones. I knew I would never forget them, but it was time to close this chapter. I had something waiting for me that would need my full attention. After all, I had waited so long to admit that I needed him that I was not going to get in my own way for another minute. We had spent a decade being our own biggest problems. Now that the roadblock was gone, it was full steam ahead.

  I really wanted Synister to come to my last show. He had even offered to reschedule their show for tonight, but I immediately refused to hear such a thing. In my typically badass chick exterior, I told him I was fine without him being there. And I was. I wanted this night to be about the girls. With Synister there, their focus would change, and selfishly, I wanted these ladies to myself for the night. He reluctantly agreed and promised to meet me outside the club afterward.

  It was one a.m., and the Push show would have been over for an hour, so I knew Syn and Tony would be waiting outside for me. Rushing to the front of the pack, I wanted to get changed and to him as soon as possible. For a minute, I knew he would have spent the last two hours with women hoping they would get a chance with him at the meet-and-greet. They were so misguided. The best was when fangirls spent time trying to convince Hendrix they had a “proposition” for him. I had sat backstage so many times and just thought, Honey, that train doesn't even come close to hitting your track. It was always fun to watch them walk away dejected. Honestly, nine times out of ten, the entire time the chick was trying to win Hendrix over, he was either checking out their boyfriend/husband or some random stage hand. Synister and I never let jealously enter our hearts; there was simply no room for it.

  I was snapped back to reality when every girl stared, giggling and screaming in excitement. There was such a flurry of activity in front of me I could not see what all the craziness was about. Was it Synister? Did he come to surprise me? That would be totally him. I smiled and felt my heart thump faster in my chest at the possibility. My arm was pulled, and my shoulder pushed as the estrogen level went through the roof. When the sea parted, I noticed a vase with a dozen red roses beside my station. No big deal, right? It was the person holding them that created all the fuss.

  “Brooklyn, what’s up?” So casual. Except that every woman in the room was moist in places that you could only imagine. The words slid off the poisonous tongue of Zeke. I knew all the girls were hoping to get his number or in his pants. I just wanted to get out of here and put some distance between us. Where was Synister?

  “Zeke, what are you doing here?” I leaned forward, taking the flowers. I loved every member of Push like a brother, but Zeke I trusted as far as I could throw him. He always gave me a bad vibe. I wasn't afraid of him, just that nauseous feeling that only women understood.

  “He’s out in the SUV. He asked me to just leave the flowers and then get back to the car. These damn women caught me mid-drop-and-run.” Zeke smiled and gave me a pat on the back. Now this is really odd. Of all the band mates, why would Syn send Zeke in? Everyone else was most likely still partying, so Zeke would have been the only option. Ugh.

  As Zeke walked to the exit, I was surprised to see that he even signed a few autographs. Out of every guy in Push, he was the one I knew the least about. He kept to himself, didn't travel with the band, just showed up before the show and for practices. Other than that—nothing, no interaction. I watched Zeke’s backside as he pushed through the door. The minute the door closed, everyone’s head turned to me, and instantly, all the noise stopped. You could have heard a pin drop.

  “Okay, Brooklyn Reigns, you need to start explaining your connection to Zeke Trettin of Push and why he is bringing you flowers,” one of the girls said.

  I was seriously worried they were going to hijack me if I didn’t start giving them answers.

  “He’s my friend. Well, actually, he is my best friend’s friend.”

  “And who would your best friend be, Brooklyn?” The voice came from the back of the room.

  “Synister Smith.” Turning away from the crowd, I grabbed my black trench coat and the flowers. Mumbled Oh my God and You have got to be kidding me filled the space. Synister had to be close, and tonight, I was finally going to answer the question that he had been asking me over and over for the last two weeks since Chicago.

  I had no idea that tonight would be the night, but everything was falling into place. My days of gracing the Bally’s stage with my sequins and headgear were done. A perfect ending to that chapter of my life. Push was on a mid-tour break, so Syn and I were going to get time together alone from the band and the chaos of life on the road. I had put in for a leave at work, and although I told them I only needed a week, there was an odd sense of finality the last time I swiped my card to exit the firm’s employee parking garage. I was ready for a new chapter. Synister was even thinking about buying a permanent residence in L.A. so we could chill like real people when life permitted it.

  Leaning my head down, I took a long pull of the amazing scent the roses were giving off. A huge smile spread across my face. I was happy. I hadn’t been this excited about what the future held since...well, I guess I had never been this positive about what was to come.

  I think the girls were all still in shock as I pushed through them and out the door. I was bitching out by dropping the Syn bomb and then bailing, but I didn’t want to explain us. Honestly, I really did not know how to explain us. What were we really? I had always hated labels, so I steered clear of calling these last two weeks anything but amazing. I refused to put it in a box of this or that. I was just going to be. Like a leaf in the breeze, I was going to follow the path in front of me and decide what came next when the decisions presented themselves.

  As I entered the alley outside the club, I placed the flowers on the stoop and threw my black trench coat over my shoulders. Still in my heels and corset, I pulled the belt around my waist and tied the coat in front of me. Picking up the flowers, I noticed a figure at the end of the alley. My heart almost leaped out of my chest as I realized Synister was standing with his hip resting on the side of the SUV. He was looking down the street toward the front of the club. This was perfect. He was expecting me to come out the main entrance with the other dancers. This would give me the chance to sneak up on him unnoticed. Yes!

  Taking the first steps toward the end of the alley, I watched Synister turn and place his forearms on the roof of the SUV. Oh my God, this is even better. He was always scaring the shit out of me with pranks, so when I had the chance to get him back, I was going to take full advantage of it.

  Making my way toward the SUV, I began plotting all the ways I was going to scare him. I never realized how dark the alley was, and I half-tripped as I stumbled to step over a beer bottle. Shit! As I righted myself, I saw Zeke make his way to the SUV. After a short exchange, Zeke gave Synister a fist bump and took off down the street. Man, he was an odd bird. If Synister hadn’t seen him like a brother, I would have been more concerned about his mild psycho, silent but deadly tendencies. As the breeze ripped through the alley, I realized that in my haste to get out of dodge I was practically naked in the cold early morning air. Well, cold in Vegas terms. Bringing my hands up to my chest to hold my coat closed brought the flowers closer to my nose. When the scent of the beautiful roses overwhelmed my senses and the vision of the man in front of me took over my eyes, I was happy. Happy was not something in my life for a long time so I was going to cherish it. We had both spent the better part of a decade being the roadblock to a relationship. I wasn’t sure if what we had was traditional. Hell, we were not traditional.

  I was so wrapped up in Synister that I did not hear the footsteps behind me. If I had, maybe it would have made a difference. I didn’t know; everything happened so fast. I watched the flowers fall to the ground. The beautiful red color quickly turned to a mixture of red and brown as the roses became covered in mud. Just a minute ago, the vibrancy of the colors was a bright spot in the darkness. Now…now the flowers were tarnished and ruined. As his words filled my ears, I was confused and frightened. “You fucking scream and I will kill you. Trust me, you bitch, I’m not playin.’”

  Before he was finished talking, I felt his hands on my shoulders. I was spun around so quickly I felt an overwhelming dizziness. My jacket was ripped from my body, and I heard the beads and crystals as they plummeted to the ground. I wasn’t sure if it was the darkness or the fact I was scared out of my mind that had heightened my senses, but every noise was supersonic loud. Every scent total overload. The way his breath smelled. How when he leaned in closer to me his scent was a mixture of soap and bleach. When he pulled my head back, the burn of hair being ripped from my scalp brought tears to my eyes. I could tell you every second of the assault, every sensation, and the details of my surroundings to the precise minutiae. I felt his hand as it connected with the side, front, and side of my face again and again. He was so angry, and I kept asking myself over and over what I did to deserve this. In a flash, I saw the glint of the moonlight off what I later was told was a knife. My face was so numb from all the hits that I couldn't tell that he had begun using the knife on my face, neck, and chest. I tried, God, I tried with all my might to free my hands, but they were pinned underneath his knees. He was kneeling on them with his body directly over me. He was breathing so heavy. I could see the puffs of breath increasing with their intensity as he started exhaling faster and faster.