Shattered Dreams (Boys of Bellerose, #3)(44)

It was the very same fucking fire that killed our baby.

Red tinged my sight as I raced away from her, heading for Grayson once more, this time determined to actually murder him. I knew my bandmate had a bad past, and I’d never given a shit so long as he didn’t pose a danger to anyone I cared about. Over the years, he’d proven to be the opposite of a danger. He was a protector, and I respected his skills.

But that was fucking done now.

“Jace, no!” Angelo snapped, reaching out to grab me, and when he couldn’t hold me, Rhett jumped in as well, the two of them wrestling me back into the bedroom and slamming the door behind us. Vee was on the other side still, but she didn’t knock or try to enter.

“You need to calm the fuck down,” Angelo said as he attempted to lock my arms behind me. Good fucking luck, asshole. I’d been wrestling with him for years and knew his moves well enough to counter them without much thought. “Bella needs you to calm down.”

There was very little that could have cut through the white-hot burn of fury that was fueling my every move. Mentioning Billie was apparently one thing that would. I stopped fighting them. I just fucking stopped and focused on the bed once more.

She was shaking hard, rocking back and forth, her lips still moving.

Brushing my well-intentioned but asshole friends off me, I hurried across to the bed, and sliding my hands under her ass, I lifted her slight frame up and against my body. I cuddled her close and shifted us back on the bed so I could rest against the wall. “You two fuck off,” I snapped. “This is not your trauma. It’s ours.”

Angelo stood at the foot of the bed. “It’s mine too, and you know it.”

Fucking fuck. He was right. Our baby. Rose might believe the baby was just mine, but we’d been in a trio relationship, so it was Angelo’s too.

Rhett lessened the tension when he lifted his hands and shrugged. “As long as you both put your focus into Billie, and not into the other stupid shit that usually consumes you, then I’ll leave and make sure Grayson isn’t out there dismantling the plane one punch at a time.”

“We’ll focus on Billie,” Angelo said, his eyes locked on the near-catatonic woman in my arms.

Our woman. Since the fucking day we’d met her.

Even if back then it’d been just the innocence of best friends.

Rhett left quietly, and Angelo kicked off his shoes, crawling in on the other side of Billie. I shifted to lay down so she was between the two of us. We rolled into her, locking our arms over the top of her, keeping her safe like we did when we were younger.

“Bella, love. It’s going to be okay,” Angelo murmured, before he spoke in Italian, whispering words of comfort and love. Words that fucking hurt to hear since it had been too damn long and it felt like we were stepping back to happier days.

Days that burned through my brain. Through my soul.

I didn’t move, despite the urge to run the fuck away again knowing that this moment was going to shatter the fragile barriers I’d put up to keep myself safe. To keep myself from ever feeling what I did that day nine years ago.

Billie’s sobs increased, but some color returned to her cheeks as we continued to hold and rock her. “Our daughter. Our little girl died,” she cried.

My chest hurt, caving in from the pain and pressure. “I know, baby,” I whispered, tightening my hold until the three of us were almost one. “I know she did, and it breaks my heart that we never got to meet her. To hold her. But I promise you she was and is loved.”

“We loved her, and we love you,” Angelo murmured. “Our neonata.”

Billie’s shaking calmed just a touch, and her murmured cries faded as well as she sank in between us. Just let herself go into our hold. “We do love you,” I whispered near her ear. “Love has never been the problem.”

“Our love got me through so much,” she whispered back, and the fucking relief I felt that she’d returned to us enough to have a conversation was huge. “But I don’t know how to get through this. I honestly don’t know if I can.”

She loved Grayson too, and I wished I’d snapped his damn neck. I’d been afraid that Billie would break my band members' hearts; I’d never thought it would be the other way around.

“Grayson grew up like me,” Angelo said, his hold not easing at all. “In a bad family. One that forced him into situations he probably didn’t want to be in. I’m not excusing what happened, but maybe you’ll feel better if you hear his side of the story. He didn’t know you then, Bella. It’s no excuse, of course, but he was just doing his job.”

Her choked sob echoed through the room, moisture dripping onto my shoulder from the tears she continuously shed. “I know you’re right, but all I feel is pain and anger. I never dealt with Penelope’s death, you know. That’s why I need fucking therapy now. And this is just triggering that unbearable pain all over again, not to mention the loneliness and betrayal I felt when I grieved her alone.”

My anger now was directed at myself. “We can’t go back in time,” I said gruffly, “but I sure as fuck wish I could. I’m sorry, Billie. I’m so fucking sorry.”

She turned into me, and now the vise in my chest tightened until I couldn’t breathe—especially as she wrapped her arms around me and sank deeper, her head tucking into my neck, like she used to do when we were younger. This was how I’d comforted her, and with Angel at her back, it was like opening a time capsule.