I would have told Amara every damn detail, and she would have forgiven me, because I would have made sure she realized that I loved her more than fucking anything or anyone else on the planet.

  But it seemed like karma was still trying to punish me, and I deserved it. Everyone who knew the old me would have been cackling up a storm at the justice of it all.

  Fuck if I would accept it, though.

  Maybe I did deserve this shit, but I wasn’t going to let it come between Amara and me. Nothing was going to take her away from me. Especially not the preppy, stuck-up bitch standing in front of me now.

  There was a coy, pouty look on her face, and when she spoke, her voice grated down my spine. “Was it really just to get to my dad?” she asked in that annoying little-girl voice that some chicks thought was sexy.

  “Yep,” I told her honestly in a cold, hard tone. “Get your clothes on and get out. My job with you is over.”

  She huffed softly and stepped in my path when I moved to walk around her. “Oh, come on, Harden. I know our time together meant something to you. You sent me flowers every week, and you were so considerate. You listened when I told you some of my deepest secrets. Surely, what we have is more important than fucking around with a girl like Amara Marks.”

  “Let’s get a few things straight, bitch.” Her eyes flashed fire at me, but she was too much of a follower to rip into me. That alone was enough to show me she was nothing like Amara. “Anything that was going on between us was never real. It was a game I had to play to get what I wanted. I don’t care about you. You’re annoying as fuck, actually, and if my grandmother hadn’t asked me to do this, I never would have looked twice at you.”

  Her chin trembled, but her tears didn’t even faze me. She could have broken down at my feet right then, sobbing and pleading, and it wouldn’t have bothered me. I prowled into her space, and whatever she read in my eyes had her dropping the pout and taking a step back. “Amara is my girlfriend, my future, my fucking everything. I love her. She is all that you will never even hope to be in life. She has strength and confidence and the kind of heart that makes anyone who is allowed inside of it the luckiest bastard on the planet. So, get your shit and get the fuck out of my apartment, because if you get in my way, I will destroy your world.”

  There was fear in her eyes, but she flipped her wet hair in my face as she turned away, acting like she wasn’t afraid of what I could do to her precious lifestyle. I could destroy it all. She was too concerned with her image, with making her father happy.

  All it would take was a whisper in the right ear that Congressman Connors’s daughter was stalking and chasing after me, and it would all come crashing down. I would make the world know she was unstable, and Connors would flip out to do damage control. Lindsey would be under lock and key out of the public eye, and whatever life she had here would be over.

  “Whatever. You’re not worth my time anyway. Dirty rockers aren’t my thing.” She stomped back to my room and slammed the door.

  I remained where I was, waiting for her to come back out. I wanted to be pissed at her, at Gigi, at the fucking world. But in my gut, I knew I had no one else to blame but myself. I did this.

  And I would fix it.

  With her wet clothes back on, Lindsey looked like a drowned rat. She stormed past me and out the door. As soon as she was gone, I grabbed my phone and started calling Amara. It went straight to voice mail, and I had to swallow the sudden knot of emotions that was choking me as I left a message.

  “Baby, don’t leave me. Come back. Please. I love you.”

  14

  Amara

  I stood outside Cash’s building, the rain pouring down on me mixing with my tears as I stared sightlessly at the street in front of me. I was freezing, my teeth chattering so hard my jaws ached, but the pain from the chill that was invading my body was nothing compared to what was engulfing me on the inside.

  Someone bumped my shoulder hard in their rush to get out of the rain. I lost my balance and landed on the sidewalk. The guy kept going, not even bothering to toss out an apology. I pushed to my feet, knowing I needed to get home and dry or I was going to get sick. I took one step, and my ankle protested. Groaning, I limped forward and tried to hail a cab.

  Several minutes passed before one pulled up in front of the apartments. Two people, laughing and holding hands, jumped out and ran for the front door, and I dropped into the back seat with my carry-on.

  “Holy shit, lady.” The driver looked at me with concern on his shocked face. “You look like you nearly drowned.”

  “Can you turn the heat on please?” I got out in a voice that was raw and painful. “I’m cold.”

  “Sure thing.” He cranked the heat up in the back, and it blasted me straight in the face. “Where you going?”

  “I don’t even know anymore,” I whispered.

  “What was that?”

  I sighed and gave him my address.

  The apartment was silent when I limped inside, and I felt the emptiness all the way down to my toes. Wheeling my case into my room, I shut and locked the door and went straight for the shower. I was shivering so badly now that I couldn’t get a deep enough breath. Turning on the shower, I stripped and climbed under the spray.

  The heat hurt, but I clenched my jaw and let the warmth slowly invade my body. But no matter how hot the water got, it couldn’t touch the cold that had taken hold of my heart. As my shivering slowly began to ease, my ability to stand disappeared. Losing the battle to remain on my feet, I slid down the shower stall wall and pulled my knees to my chest.

  Eventually, the water began to turn run cold, and I crawled forward to turn it off before getting weakly to my feet. Wrapping a towel around my hair and another around my body, I limped into my bedroom and propped my injured foot up on a stack of pillows. My ankle was swollen and a lovely shade of black and purple already, and it was starting to ache. I’d been so numb from the cold that I hadn’t realized just how painful it was.

  Opening my nightstand drawer, I grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen and swallowed them dry. There was a throw that I’d tossed onto the bed the morning I met with Emmie, and I grabbed it, pulling it up to my shoulders as I closed my eyes and pleaded for sleep.

  Tomorrow, I would deal with everything. But for now, I just wanted the world to disappear and leave me the fuck alone…

  My rolling stomach woke me hours later. With a groan, I jumped out of bed, only to fall flat on my face when my throbbing ankle gave out under my full weight. With a sob, I crawled into the bathroom, for once thankful for my small bedroom. I held back the flood of vomit by sheer willpower until I reached the toilet.

  My throat felt like it was on fire as gastric juices ruptured the blisters that had formed on the back of my throat while I slept. I was freezing and naked since I’d lost my towel on the quick crawl to the bathroom. I was shivering again, but sweat beaded on my forehead.

  When my stomach stopped heaving, I had to blow my running nose so I could actually breathe again. I got to my feet slowly and hopped on one foot to the sink so I could wash my face and rinse out my mouth. As the water dropped off my chin and the tip of my nose, I looked at myself in the mirror. My cheeks were bright pink, my eyes glazed from my fever. Every ache seemed to blend together until my entire body was one huge throb.

  Groaning, I grabbed my hand towel to dry my face then hopped back to bed. By the time I flopped ungracefully onto the edge of my mattress, I was out of breath and wheezing. A cough shook my shoulders, making me whimper in pain because I was pretty sure my lungs were coming loose from the force of it.

  A sharp knock on my door came just as the cough eased, and I stiffened. If it was Lindsey, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. She had stayed when I left Cash’s apartment, and I didn’t even want to think about what might have happened after the door closed behind me.

  “Mar?” Riley called. “Mar, is that you? Are you okay?” The doorknob twisted, but it was still locked. “Mar! Open the door.”

  “Riles,” I moaned. “I can’t really move right now. What time is it?”

  “It’s like eleven.”

  I blinked, confusion wrinkling my brow. “At night?”

  “No, in the morning. It’s Saturday. What’s going on? I didn’t even know you were home until I heard you coughing. Is there a dog in there attacking you? Because that sure as hell is what it sounds like.”

  Shit, I’d slept through the night. It felt like I’d barely closed my eyes. I dropped back on the bed, wiping the back of my hand over my sweating brow and running nose. “I’m dying,” I groaned. “I think I have the flu. Just stay out there. It’s safer.”

  “Is that why you’re home early?” my best friend asked sympathetically.

  “Yeah, sure,” I told her, closing my eyes. “I was sick, so I came home.”

  She was silent for a moment before she pounded her fist on the door. “What’s wrong with you, Mar? What happened? Talk to me,” she pleaded.

  Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes. “I don’t want to talk, Riles. I feel like shit. Just leave me alone.”

  “Should I call Cash?”

  Something painful contracted in my chest, and I curled into a ball as the tears fell faster. “No,” I sobbed. “Don’t call him. I don’t ever want to see his face again.”

  “Fuck this shit,” I heard her growl as she stomped away.

  I grabbed my throw and pulled it over my nakedness. With my tears still flowing freely, I closed my eyes and tried to fall back asleep…

  The rattling of my doorknob jerked me awake sometime later. Just as I lifted my head, the door opened and Riley stormed into the room. “Fuck you for making me pick your lock,” she started to blast into me. Then her eyes landed on me and she saw the pathetic state I was in, and her anger deflated. “Ah, Mar. What happened?”

  “I hurt all over, Riles,” I whispered brokenly, and it felt like there was a living fire at the back of my throat, it hurt so damn much. “Even my eyelashes hurt.”

  She leaned across the bed, touching the back of her hand to my brow. “Holy shit, you’re burning up. You need a doctor.”

  “I can’t even walk,” I tried to explain. “My ankle…”

  Riley pulled the throw off my feet and looked at my injured ankle. “Fuck. Did you break it?”

  “Maybe?” It hurt like a bitch, but as bad as the rest of me felt, I’d been able to ignore the pulse throbbing to the beat of my heart.

  “Well, I can’t carry you, babe.” She knelt on the bed beside me. “Let me call Cash. He can help me get you into my car, and I’ll take you to the hospital.”

  “No!” I screamed, only to groan when I started coughing again. “If…you…call him…I won’t…” I broke off, unable to breathe any longer because the coughing was taking over, seizing my lungs.

  “Okay, okay,” she tried to soothe me. “I won’t call him, but you need some serious medical attention. That ankle alone is worth a trip to the ER. How did you hurt it?”

  “Someone bumped into me on the street last night. It was raining, and I guess they didn’t see me.”

  “Should I call an ambulance?” she asked worriedly.

  I shook my head, but even though I was lying down, it made the world spin around me. “I don’t have the extra money for a ride in an ambulance. But my insurance is still good, so I can afford the ER visit, I guess.”

  “Okay, let me make a call—”

  “Not Cash!”

  “Not Cash,” she promised. She lifted her phone to her ear, her eyes skimming over me with concern. “Hey. What are you bitches up to?” I heard a few feminine laughs and thought they sounded familiar. I was just glad it wasn’t Lindsey. “I’ve got a bit of a situation. Do you think you can come help me out with something really quick?”

  “What’s going on?” I heard a less amused voice ask. “You okay?”

  Riley sighed, frustrated. “Amara is sick, and I need to get her to the ER. But she twisted her ankle and can’t walk.”

  “Call her boyfriend.”

  I shook my head, mouthing “No” at my friend.

  “Yeah, that’s not happening. I guess they broke up or something. I don’t really know, because she’s not telling me shit right now. So, can you help me or not?”

  “It’s your lucky day.” I heard one of the chicks on the other end of the line laugh. “We got some muscle sitting right here. Chill out for a few. We’ll be there as soon as we can. Text me your address.”

  “Who was that?” I asked.

  “Bombshells. We’ve stayed in touch.” Riley tossed the phone aside and jumped off my bed. She bounced to my closet and pulled out a pair of leggings and a baggy shirt. Not even bothering with underwear, she dressed me like a helpless little kid.

  By the time she was done, I was exhausted and out of breath. I lay there, bathing in my own sweat and praying for death to take me until the doorbell rang. Riley went to answer it and returned with all four Bombshells and a grumpy-looking Sin.

  “Why didn’t you call Cash?” he growled as he lifted me into his arms. I felt weightless as his long legs ate up the distance from my bed to the front door.

  “Fuck Cash,” I bit out in a hoarse voice.

  He gave me a dark frown as he stepped into the elevator with the others. “You two fight?”

  “No.”

  “Then what happened to your wrists? They’re bruised. And that ankle looks bad, girl. If he put his hands on you, tell me now, and I’ll go kick his fucking ass.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I groaned, my head falling onto his shoulder. “Please, Sin. I feel like shit.”

  “You know I gotta tell him. He’s my bandbrother.”

  “Do what the fuck you want,” I muttered weakly. “I don’t care as long as I don’t have to see him.”

  Thankfully, he shut up, and the others kept their mouths closed as we rode down to the garage. Sin put me in the back of Riley’s car and even buckled me in. As he stepped back, he spoke to Riley. “You need me to get her into the hospital?”

  “Nah, I think I can find someone who can help me from here. Thanks for the help, guys.”

  “If you need anything, just call,” London assured her. “She looks bad.”

  “Yeah, I’ve never seen her so sick before.” Riley sighed but shrugged. “She’ll be okay. Thanks again for the help.”

  I pressed my forehead against the coolness of the window, wrapping the throw Sin had covered me with tighter around my shoulders. I closed my eyes, and the next time I opened them, a male nurse was opening the door. Lifting me, he placed me in a wheelchair and wheeled me inside. The place seemed oddly calm, but it was still early for a Saturday, so the nurse pushed me straight back to a curtained-off exam room and put me on a gurney.

  Riley stayed beside me as a doctor came in and examined me, ordered tests, and then left. An IV was put in the back of my hand, and when I started coughing so bad I couldn’t catch my breath, the male nurse came in to put oxygen tubes up my nose. It felt weird, but it helped, and soon I was breathing steadily once again.

  Blood was taken, and thankfully they didn’t make me pee in a cup, because I seriously had no strength to accomplish that kind of feat. My chest was X-rayed along with my foot, and within an hour of arriving, the doctor was admitting me. I had double pneumonia, strep throat, and a fractured ankle.

  The doctor’s eyes met mine as he finished giving his diagnosis. “And you’re pregnant. You should be taking better care of yourself, young woman.”

  “What?” I wheezed out. “What did you say?”

  “Pregnant,” he repeated. “I suspect not too far along, but enough that it showed up on your blood work, so at least three weeks.”

  “Oh God,” I groaned, “I’m going to be sick.”

  “Mar!” Riley was already there with a vomit bag, but there was nothing in me to puke up. My stomach heaved repeatedly until I fell limply back onto the bed, noticing the doctor had left us alone. “Just take deep breaths,” she urged. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “This can’t be happening.”

  “But it is.”

  “I can’t deal with this right now, Riles.” Twin tears fell from the corners of my eyes.

  My friend stroked her fingers over my brow. “Just try to sleep, babe. Concentrate on getting better, and then we can deal with the rest, okay?”

  Okay? I was sick and pregnant. And I hated my baby’s father. Nothing about this was okay.

  15

  Cash

  The ringing of my phone jerked me awake. Groaning, I blindly searched for the device in my darkened bedroom. “Fuck,” I muttered, trying to open my eyes. My fingers found my phone, and I pulled it to my face, blinking at the name on the screen.

  “What you want, Sin?” I bit out.

  “Hello to you too, sunshine,” he laughed sadistically.

  “Not in the fucking mood for your shit today, Sin. I’ve got the mother of all hangovers going on, and I’m itching to beat the fuck out of shit.” I rolled onto my back, glaring up at the ceiling as I fought the nausea roiling in my stomach.

  “Yeah, well, I’m risking Roanna being pissed at me by even calling you. But I figured you would want to know I had to go to your girl’s place a few hours ago and carry her down to Riley’s car.” I shot upright in bed, my heart pounding. “She was sick as hell, man. Sweating and shivering. Coughing so bad I was surprised she was still able to breathe.”

  “Which hospital?” I was already on my feet, grabbing the jeans I’d tossed aside in a drunken stupor the night before.

  “Her ankle was pretty fucked up too. Purple and swollen. She couldn’t walk on it.”

  “Which hospital?” I repeated, pulling a T-shirt over my head.

  “And there were bruises on her wrists. You know anything about that, dickhead?”

  I froze, the hand reaching for my keys and wallet dropping to my side. “I would never hurt her like that, motherfucker. You know I don’t do shit like that.”