“I could ask you the same. You look like you’ve been on one hell of a bender.” She eyed the highball of scotch on the desk. “Have you?”

  “No, just not sleeping much.” Truth be told, he felt like he hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in years.

  She glanced at the glass again, sighing. “Isn’t it a little early for that, Trey?”

  He chuckled, the sound unfamiliar to his own ears. It had been a long time since he’d had any reason to laugh. “Honey, it’s gotta be five o’clock somewhere.”

  She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him, but he could see the fear and disappointment lurking beneath the anger.

  “Damn it. It’s not funny, Trey.”

  Her expression softened and he saw the pity. God, he hated to be pitied almost as much as he hated feeling useless, inept, and washed up.

  “I’m worried about you. So are Mama and Daddy. You haven’t been the same since the accident.”

  He slid the newspaper clipping under a stack of documents. He didn’t want her to know he’d been obsessing about the past again. Why couldn’t he just let it go, look to the future? Maybe he could stand the thought of a life without music if he wasn’t facing it alone. He sighed. No sense wishing for the impossible.

  “Nothing to worry about, sis. I’m fine.”

  “Prove it.” She claimed the chair across from him. “Come to Jimmy’s tonight. You and I haven’t spent any time together in months.”

  He shook his head. He hadn’t been back to his old haunt since the night of the accident. He had been on the wagon that night, not a drop to drink, not that it mattered. Two innocent people still lost their lives and he lost what little remained of the life he’d known. If he hadn’t gone to the bar that night, he wouldn’t have been on the road at two a.m., wouldn’t have rushed to the aid of the minivans’ passengers. He wouldn’t have been holding the hand of that little girl as he watched her slip away.

  “Sorry, not interested.”

  Marisa reached across the desk and put her hand on his arm. “Trey, please do this for me.”

  “That’s the last place I want to go tonight.” He glanced at the date on his phone, a neon reminder of that fateful day exactly one year ago. Not that he needed to be reminded. The visions were burned in his memory like a bad horror flick on perpetual rewind.

  “I think you need help.”

  He knew he needed help, had for years, but the only person who could help him wanted to forget he was alive. “Spare me your dime-store psychology, Marisa. Stick to what you know best, clothes and shoes.” He knew that would hit a nerve, piss her off enough to drive her away.

  “Do you think we’re going to sit by and let you self-destruct again, Trey?”

  Again. Like he had five years ago when Sierra left him and he lost his will to live.

  “You were sober for almost three years. Why the hell are you doing this? You’re punishing yourself for an accident that wasn’t even your fault.”

  He saw the tears in her eyes and hated that he was causing the people he loved so much pain. He knew they would be better off without him. Maybe he should just disappear. Hole up somewhere far away and drink away the past six years of his life.

  “This may not have been my fault, but what about the other accident?” The accident that took my baby girl and the woman I loved, he thought.

  “You have to stop punishing yourself for that. It wasn’t your fault.”

  He wondered, was it an accident or divine intervention? Maybe God was punishing him for every thoughtless, selfish thing he’d ever done. Maybe He disapproved of his tactics, trampling anyone and everyone on his mission to dominate the country music industry. It was never enough. No matter how many awards he’d won, records he’d sold, or millions he’d made, it had never been enough. He had worked longer and harder every day in his quest for supremacy until he finally wound up alone.

  He propped his elbows on the desk, dropping his head in his hands. “Maybe it was an accident. I don’t know. What I do know is that my stupidity, my recklessness, caused Sierra to go into labour ten weeks early. If I hadn’t been arguing with her, I wouldn’t have been distracted. I would have been able to stop in time.” He swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the grief blocking his airway.

  “We lost our daughter because of me, Marisa.”

  She reached out to him, but he pushed her away. He didn’t want her sympathy, didn’t deserve it.

  “Sierra has forgiven you, Trey. I think it’s time for you to forgive yourself.”

  “Never,” he whispered.

  To forgive himself would dishonor Callie’s memory. He had come to terms with who he was: a self-indulgent, power-hungry, control freak, and because of his failings, his angel had died before she had a chance at life. He wasn’t worthy of forgiveness.

  She leaned back in her chair, staring at him like she was looking at a stranger. “Is that why you haven’t been able to get past this accident? Because it reminded you of what happened back then?”

  He got up and crossed the room, feeling trapped, like a caged animal desperate to escape the confines of a life behind bars. Only he was trapped by gaping wounds that time and booze couldn’t heal and mistakes that he couldn’t make up for, no matter how much he wished he could.

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Marisa. Please, just go.”

  She hesitated and he knew she wanted to object.

  “Fine,” she said softly. “I’ll leave, but only if you promise to come to Jimmy’s tonight.”

  He just wanted to be alone, alone with his misery and memories. “I’ll be there. Just go now, please.”

  “Sierra, please tell me you’ll talk to him.”

  Sierra Brooks turned her back on her former sister-in-law. She couldn’t allow herself to get drawn in to her ex-husband’s world again, not when she had spent the past five years fighting to rebuild the life he had worked so hard to destroy. She loved Marisa, loved her parents, but her love for Trey had cost her everything. She couldn’t go back, not when she’d worked so hard to move forward.

  “I can’t. Please try to understand.”

  Marisa grabbed her hand, spinning her around until they were eye to eye. Trey and his sister were alike, yet different in so many ways. They definitely shared the same genes: olive complexion, startling blue eyes, ink-black hair, and both were athletic and competitive to a fault.

  But that’s where the similarities ended. Marisa was warm and compassionate, open and communicative, while Trey was often cold and reserved, valuing his privacy more than relationships. Marisa was modest, while Trey wore his accomplishments like a badge of honor. Perhaps that’s why her relationship with Marisa had withstood the test of time, and her marriage had failed.

  “I’m afraid for him, Sierra. I haven’t seen him like this since before you left him. He’s out of control. He’s drinking again, every day.”

  That damned bottle had been his best friend and her archenemy during the final months of their marriage. Together, they could have gotten past the accident, shared their grief over the loss of their baby, and rebuilt their shattered marriage, but instead he chose to drown his grief in his career and the bottle, effectively shutting her out of his life until she got the news that finally sealed their fate.

  “I’ve moved on with my life. Your brother is not my problem anymore.”

  “You still love him.”

  The truth of those simple words felt like a weight on her chest that had never lifted. Her love for him would never die, no matter how hard she had tried to smother it with years of anger and resentment.

  “I’m getting married, Marisa.” She cursed her vulnerability where this man was concerned, swiping at the tears that slid down her cheeks. “I have to think about my future, not my past.”

  “I know.” Marisa brushed away her own tears. “I know it’s not fair of me to ask this of you, but I don’t know what else to do. I’ve talked to his AA sponsor and he hasn’t been able to reach him. You’re the only person I can turn to.”

  She embraced her friend. She knew how much it hurt to watch someone you love destroy their life. His family had once been her family and, in her heart, they always would be. Even if it meant sacrificing her hard-fought resolve to help them, she would do it. “Fine, I’ll talk to him. I just hope he’s willing to listen.”

  Trey nodded to the bouncers who ushered him into the crowded bar, followed by his head of security and personal bodyguard for the night, Josh Cooper. Josh was one of the few people he trusted with his life. They’d been on the same football team in college and had remained close friends ever since. It hadn’t been easy to lure the career cop away from the force, but he finally made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.

  Trey hated having to travel with an entourage, but it was necessary most of the time. In cases like this, safe zones, where he’d been numerous times without incident, he was able to convince his handlers to let him get away without the protection of an army. Fortunately, now that Josh had joined his team, it felt like he was just hanging out with a good friend instead of living his life in a protected bubble.

  It took him a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. With any luck, he might be able to sneak under the radar tonight, pretend he wasn’t who they thought he was. He felt like an imposter most days, so it wouldn’t require much effort on his part.

  It still felt surreal, being back in a world he’d once belonged to, once dominated. Now, he stood on the periphery, watching the crowds of people dancing, talking, laughing, living. He tried to remember a time when he’d been that happy and carefree. It had been years, too many years.

  Marisa came up behind him, sliding her arm around his waist. At six foot, three inches, he was a foot taller and able to tuck her neatly under his chin as he drew her in for a hug. If only he could keep everyone he loved safe, holding them close, never letting go. But it was too late for that. The people he loved and longed to protect were gone forever.

  She smiled at Josh, her gaze lingering as she spoke to her brother. “I’m glad you came. I was afraid you’d change your mind.”

  He would have, but he knew his stubborn little sister well enough to know she would be banging his door down, waking half the neighbourhood, if that’s what it took to get him down here.

  “Don’t think I didn’t think about it, darlin’.”

  “How does it feel, being back?”

  “Different.” Jimmy’s held so many memories for him, both good and bad. It was a place where his dreams were born and later died. He found his voice on that stage and watched his wife walk out those doors and out of his life for the last time.

  Images of her flashed through his mind: her smile as she tipped her beer glass, her laughter as they tore up the dance floor, the sweet sound of her voice as they sang a duet, the tears in her eyes as she asked him not to fight the divorce.

  A curvaceous waitress in a denim miniskirt and thigh-high boots made her way through the crowd toward him. She gave him a thorough once over and winked. “What can I get you, Trey?”

  Someone bumped her from behind and she brushed against him, giggling. “Sorry, sweetheart,” she whispered, flattening her breasts against his chest.

  He took a step back. He wasn’t in the mood to flirt tonight, not here. This place always made him feel raw, as though it had been five days instead of five years since their separation. “Tequila. And keep ‘em comin’.” If he was lucky, maybe a little liquid poison would make him forget.

  “Josh, Marisa, you want anything?”

  Josh shook his head. “You know I don’t drink when I’m on duty, man.”

  Marisa grabbed his arm. “Trey, wait...”

  A wannabe cowboy in crisp jeans and an over-sized cowboy hat made his way to the center of the small stage and seized the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, have I got a treat for y’all tonight. I want y’all to put your hands together for a little lady who first graced this stage way back in the day. Let’s hear it for the beautiful and talented, Ms. Sierra Brooks!”

  The applause thundered in Trey’s ears until his head felt as though it would explode from the mounting pressure.

  His mind flashed back to the last time he saw her. That night, he’d been drunk and his stupid pride enabled him to pretend she wasn’t ripping his heart out when she’d told him she wanted out of their marriage. Five years without her had proven there wasn’t enough booze in the state to drown his memories of her. As for his pride, he’d gladly trade it for just one more night in her bed.

  When she walked onto the stage, sexy as sin in low riding jeans, cowboy boots, and a snug western shirt, he felt the air leave his lungs as surely as if he’d been kicked in the gut. “Oh my God.”

  “You can say that again,” Josh whispered. “Wow, she looks amazing.”

  Marisa grabbed Trey’s hand and pulled him toward a small table tucked in a rear corner of the dark bar. He was grateful when she pushed a chair beneath him, forcing him to sit down. Josh claimed the chair beside him, his intense eyes fixed on the curious crowd. As always, he was ready to react at the first sign of mayhem.

  Trey barely noticed the hundreds of eyes fixed on him; he was too busy watching her. She was stunning: thick, blond waves spilling down her back, cobalt-blue eyes teasing and tormenting her male admirers as she strutted across the stage, and a sweet little body that still turned him inside out.

  He remembered fisting his hands in her hair, making her beg for him, and finally hearing her scream his name as she climaxed. Those were the memories he wanted to hang on to. He got hard just remembering how hot it was between them. The thrill of performing for 40,000 fans had never been able to compare to the rush of losing himself in her lush little body every night.

  His mind wandered back in time. A knee injury had ended his college football career and his dream of making the pros. She was the one who’d picked him up, restored his faith, and helped him set new goals. She’d convinced him to pursue his love of music, helped him celebrate his first record deal, and co-wrote several of the tracks on his first album. Sierra was his biggest fan; she had believed in him long before he’d learned to believe in himself.

  The waitress set a shot glass down on the table. Beneath it was a napkin with her name and phone number. A different time, a different place, and he might have taken her up on the offer, but tonight there was only one woman on his mind: Sierra Brooks.

  He hated the fact that she’d reclaimed her maiden name after the divorce. He’d secretly hoped she’d at least keep his name as a reminder of their time together. But the painful truth was that she didn’t want anything from him after the divorce. Not his name, their home, money, cars, or jewelry. She’d walked away with nothing. She told his lawyers she didn’t want it, hadn’t earned it. She claimed the money was his, but he knew that without her, he would be nothing today.

  “I can’t believe she’s here,” he whispered. He pushed the drink away. He’d been drunk enough to drive her away the last time she’d seen him and he’d be damned if he let her see him that way tonight.

  “Are you mad that I didn’t tell you?” Marisa asked.

  He looked at his sister, reading the angst in her eyes. How could he be mad? In spite of his fear, she’d given him a second chance to say all the things he should have said five years ago. “No, I’m not mad.”

  He was lost, mesmerized, listening to Sierra sing a Carrie Underwood song about getting even with her cheating boyfriend. She had the sweetest, purest voice he’d ever heard. They had made beautiful music together a lifetime ago. He’d tried to convince her to pursue her own musical career, but she had other plans. She’d been pursuing a graduate degree in social work when their marriage ended. She’s always claimed it was her mission to give back to a world that had blessed them with so much. His heart twisted at the memory of the idealistic girl who’d wanted to save the world. He’d never been worthy of her, not then, and definitely not now.

  “Why is she here?” he asked, his eyes never leaving the stage.

  He kept waiting for their eyes to connect, for that moment when he would be able to read her thoughts. Would she be angry, anxious, or surprised to see him? Would looking at him evoke the same barrage of memories for her or would she treat him as nothing more than an old acquaintance? He could deal with her rage and hurt, but he couldn’t cope with indifference, not after everything they’d shared.

  Marisa glanced up at the stage. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  People were starting to recognize him, pointing, whispering, and staring. He knew it was only a matter of time before they started approaching him, asking for autographs and pictures. He was normally happy to oblige his fans, but tonight he wished he could fade into anonymity, be a nameless face in the crowd.

  He glanced at his friend. Josh was carefully surveying the excited crowd. As a third degree black belt in karate, the man’s hands were lethal weapons. Trey had watched him take down four rowdy drunks outside of a honky-tonk in Jacksonville a few months ago. He knew he could let his guard down as long as he had Josh to watch his back.

  Minutes ticked by as Sierra finished her first set to the rousing applause of drunken cowboys swarming the stage to get her attention.

  Trey’s gut clenched with the wrenching jealousy only she could evoke. She was still oblivious to the effect she had on the opposite sex. It had driven him crazy when they were married. Back then, men had enjoyed looking at her, but they would never be crazy enough to lay a hand on his wife. But that was then; divorce had a way of changing the rules in the minds of drunken cowboys hoping to score. Divorce decree or not, Hell would freeze over before he watched another man put his hands on her.

  “I wanna thank y’all for comin’ tonight. You may have noticed I’m not your regular Saturday night entertainment.” She flashed a bright white smile at the cowboys’ antics to get her attention.

  “But my old buddy, Jimmy, was nice enough to let me take the stage to help raise some money for a cause that’s near and dear to my heart, The Rainbow Fund. I started this charity several years ago to support parents who have lost a child. We provide grief counseling, ongoing support, and help with funeral expenses.” She paused while the crowd cheered her cause.