Shattered Dreams (Boys of Bellerose, #3)(18)

Fuck my life and the goddamn mafia crown it rode in on. Tilting my gaze toward her, I knew this wasn’t a battle I could win. Not when those hazel eyes were pleading with me to keep playing nice. To make the music today that everyone clearly needed to make.

“Sure,” I said casually, even though it was any-fucking-thing but casual.

Billie’s face lit up once more, and those painful ghosts that lingered in her eyes faded. Briefly. If music was the key to soothing her soul, then I’d play all goddamn day.

Someone produced a bass guitar from somewhere—thin air was my best guess since it was in my lap faster than seemed possible. Grayson had his sticks out, ready to use them on a small side table, Rhett had retrieved his guitar from a bedroom, and Jace was using a small but expensive-looking portable keyboard. He was a master of multiple instruments—whereas I only played lead and bass guitars—but I hadn’t heard of him using the keyboard on his last few albums.

Yeah, I’d kept up with Bellerose. Not that I’d ever admit it to anyone other than Brenda, my source of information.

"Keyboard,” Rhett said, nodding his head like he was into it. “I love it. Going old school.”

Jace shrugged, dropping his head as he adjusted the sound to his liking. “Figured it was time to go back to the start, to where we made music for the love of it, not because a fucking record label was tapping their fingers demanding a generic Bellerose hit.”

Billie snorted, and when Jace lifted his head to nail her with his famous stare, she forced a smile across her face. “Old school is a fantastic idea. It makes sense to go back to when you made good music.”

She was sweetness and smiles, but this time she couldn’t really hide the dig. Jace’s lips twitched. The bastard was amused, but he didn’t give her anything other than a shrug. “I’ve always been good, sweetheart. This is just a different sort of good.”

“Right,” Billie chirped. “Couldn’t agree more, babe.”

She crossed the room to drop down between Rhett and Grayson, and I fought the urge to follow her and yank her out from between them and back to my side. Not. Fucking. Theirs.

Only she was.

That would never change.

“Okay, let’s start with an old number to get warmed up,” Jace said quickly, pressing the keys to the beat of “Existential Crisis,” one of their earlier numbers. I knew it well enough to find my place a second later, and once again, it was as if I’d never stopped playing.

Bass wasn’t my normal; I’d been lead guitar when I’d played with Jace, but it was easy enough to figure out. Grayson picked up the drums a second later, and Rhett’s guitar was there as well. He was a talented musician, there was no denying that, and not a bad guy. If anyone had to take my place in Bellerose, I was glad it was someone like him.

Even if I did want to kill him at the same time.

Billie closed her eyes as the song moved toward the opening chorus, Jace’s vocals filling the room with no need for a microphone. I had a feeling he’d chosen this song because it was one of the few that didn’t rip Billie to shreds.

Quite the gesture for someone who claimed to hate her and everything she stood for.

When we were done with that, Rhett let out another whoop, and I finished off the last of my drink, enjoying the warmth dripping through me.

I’d almost died a week ago. All of this was bonus content in the life I’d thought was over.

“Okay, let’s try something else,” Grayson said, his drumming picking up tempo as he pushed for a faster beat. “Rock out a little more.”

Rhett drained his glass dry and grabbed his guitar again. “This is the fucking best. Angel should be our new bassist. Wouldn’t that just be perfect? We could be the boys of Bellerose.”

Billie’s eyes shot open, and she met my gaze.

The past and present flashed before my eyes once more. The past where I’d been part of a different sort of family. One filled with music and love.

Until I’d learned to hate both.

Fuck.

Dropping the bass to the side, I pushed myself up once more and grabbed my cane.

“I’m going to rest,” I said shortly, stalking off as best I could in my injured state.

If I was going to let the past go, I needed to do that today—today, while it was still possible— because if Billie held me in her gaze once more, I’d be fucking lost.





nine





BILLIE


The swirl of my stomach woke me the next day, and I groaned as I opened my eyes to find the harsh fucking light of day was trying to drill into my brain. Closing them again, I pushed through the pounding in my head and attempted to remember what had happened yesterday.

Christmas.

Maybe one of the most perfect Christmas days I’d ever had, but I had definitely overindulged in the spirited beverages. A choice that I was paying for this morning.

But I’d wanted to celebrate; Angelo had come home, and there was something different between us. A pull that we’d both attempted to destroy years ago, and yet, it was back.

He’d made music with Jace, which felt like a fist plunging into my chest and tearing my heart free. Angel must have felt the same, seeing as he’d stalked off for a “rest.” When he’d returned a few hours later, he’d appeared to have let go of whatever bad mood had taken hold, and then joined the boys and got down to the serious business of getting hammered and writing music with the band.