Page 74 of Before You Fell

Jax’s stare refuses to leave mine. “You made her look small, man.”

“Careful,” I say.

“Why?” Jax snaps. “You weren’t fucking careful with her.”

That shuts something in me up for half a second.

Jett’s voice cuts through the silence. “She has been bleeding around you for years and you kept calling it loyalty because it made you feel better.”

The words go straight under my ribs.

I hate that none of them look surprised. They’ve all been holding this. Waiting. Watching me turn Willow into something I could lean on, bleed into, and sing through, while still pretending I had not taken too much.

“Fuck you,” I say, because it is the only thing ugly enough to hide my guilt.

Jax shakes his head, and the expression on his face is worse than anger. “Yeah, that’s your answer to everything. Fuck it. Fuck her. Fuck us. And then act shocked when someone finally stops taking your shit.”

There it is. The truth.

Before I can turn it into something ugly enough to throw back at them, Damon looks around the room, already bored.

“Our album is not finished,” he says. “The release is close enough that the label is breathing down my fucking neck. We have deadlines, contracts, clearance issues, and three tracks left to record. She cannot fucking quit just because she is having feelings.”

Jett’s head lifts. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

Damon turns on him. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Jett sets his coffee down, too calm, which tells me he is two seconds from losing it. “Don’t fucking stand there and make her sound weak just because she finally got tired of being treated like shit.”

Damon’s mouth hardens. “This is business.”

“No,” Jett says. “This is Willow. The woman who has been carrying half this band while you all stood around acting as if she should be grateful to be in the room.”

“Jett,” Cruz says, like a warning.

“No,” Jett snaps, eyes locked on Damon. “Some fucker has to say it.”

Damon points at him. “She signed contracts.”

“And Phoenix fucked it up,” Jett says. “But you’re still standing here talking about her as if she’s the problem, because it’s easier than admitting you both gave her a reason to leave. You, Damon, did nothing but treat her like a product with a pulse. And Phoenix, with whatever selfish shit he did this time.” His eyes cut to mine. “And we all fucking know it.”

My stomach twists hard.

Cruz swears under his breath.

Damon starts pacing. “We have songs that need to be finalized.”

The guys keep arguing with Damon, their voices cutting over one another, but my eyes catch on Jax’s phone sitting beside his jacket.

Willow will not answer me. She might answer him. The thought hits me with enough ugliness to twist my stomach, but I put the guitar down and move before I think too hard about what I’m doing.

I swipe Jax’s phone, step out into the hallway, and keep walking.

My thumb moves quickly over Jax’s screen.

I pull up his messages. Willow’s thread is sixth from the top. I open it and the sight of her name on someone else’s phone makes something mean and hot crawl through my chest.

I type before I can stop myself.