She sighed in relief. "Ah, okay."

I hesitated, then touched her shoulder. She swiftly brought her head up to look at me. Even if I couldn't tell her everything, I could still use her help, and ask her to do something for me that would make me feel a tiny bit better about leaving.

"I wanted to ask you something else, too." I hesitated, not sure of how to say it.

Sky tilted her head, waiting.

I exhaled. "Could you look after Jax for me while I'm gone? If he starts acting weird again, and I'm not here . . ." I trailed off, not really sure what I wanted Sky to do. If Jax was trying to distance himself from me, who was to say he wouldn't do the same thing to her?

But she nodded, as if she could read the unsaid message behind my words. "Don't worry. I can be there for him. We may not actually have the same parents, but he's my brother, just as much as Chewie."

A wave of relief rushed through me. I could count on her, I knew it. I didn't have a sister, but if I did, I would want her to be like Sky.

"Thank you," I said, the words almost sticking in my throat.

"It won't be the same without you around," she said, sounding sad. "But we'll be back in New York as soon as we're done cutting our new record."

"I'll be waiting," I said, managing a wry smile. "Not very patiently, but I'll be waiting."

Sky laughed. "But before that can happen, we've got to play our last show." She finished the rest of her drink with a gulp. "And that means I should probably do some real practicing."

She stood up and rolled her yoga mat so that it fit snug under her arm. "It was good talking to you, Riley."

I waved to her as she left. Alone, I stared down into my almost empty glass as if it had the answers I was still seeking.

In my heart, I wanted to believe that Jax had found a way to heal. But if he was trying to escape his pain by going back to his old reckless ways, therapy would be nothing but a temporary bandage over a far deeper, older wound.

Or, on the other hand, therapy could be working perfectly and Jax might be a changed man in a few weeks or months. I sighed, my eyes drifting off over the horizon. Without communication, no couple could last. He wasn't letting me in, and if our relationship had started to seem like it was on the rocks, maybe it was because he wanted it that way.

I knew in my gut that something was wrong with Jax, but I didn't know how to help him heal. Soon, there would be no time left for me to even try.

Chapter Fourteen

A LOSS

The next few days were nerve-wracking. Jax went off on rides for hours at a time, not telling me where he was going or when he'd be back. It reminded me of when he'd disappeared and almost missed the show at the Roman. He'd told me later that he'd been thinking about Darrel, and that he had taken that long ride to clear his mind of the terrible memories.

But that was before he'd seen Darrel again. Somehow I knew this time was different. Jax was different, after what had happened with his dad. And it seemed to me like what he was dealing with had a far stronger grip on him than it ever had before.

This morning, he'd rode away again.

I sat in our bed, idly watching Die Hard for the fiftieth time, but even though it was my favorite movie my heart wasn't in it. Jax had been gone for hours now, taking off this morning on his bike. He hadn't said a word to me, he'd just left.

A knock came on the door to Jax's room. It opened, and Sky poked her head in. "Hey. Sorry to interrupt."

I grabbed the remote and paused the movie. "No problem, I'm just killing time until Jax gets here. What's up?"

She frowned. "That's what I wanted to ask you. Did he tell you when he'll be back?"

I just shook my head.

"Hmm." Sky's brow furrowed. "Well, we all have a meeting with Reed up at the house right now. About the Anarchy Fest. We're going to leave a day early to get some extra practice in on the actual stage. And we've got to go over our set list before then, obviously."

"When he gets here, I can tell him that's where you guys are," I offered.

Sky sighed and looked at her watch. "Thanks, Riley. I know I should just trust him to come through, but it's been hard lately."

"He'll be here," I said, injecting false confidence into my voice. He hadn't skipped a practice or meeting since missing the sound check at the Roman, but he'd been acting so erratic lately, anything was possible.

Sky gave me a weak smile and closed the door. I heard stamping and the pneumatic whoosh of the door opening as the band left the bus. Sighing, I turned Die Hard back on, but I quickly found myself lost in my own thoughts.

After the discussion I'd had with Sky about Jax's risky behaviors, I'd watched him after every mysterious bike ride for a sign of that same "high" look. While I didn't know exactly why it appeared, I knew it was a look he only got after he'd done something incredibly dangerous. It should have comforted me when he came back looking and acting like himself, but why then did I still feel worried?

A slam came from outside, followed by voices. One belonged to Jax. The sound brought a relieved smile to my face. Good. He'd come through after all.

Leaning forward, I lifted the window shade to peek out. What I saw made my happiness vanish.

Jax stood in the driveway, handing a wad of bills to the driver of a yellow cab. His bike was nowhere in sight.

Where was it? My heart beat faster. Had Jax been in an accident? If so, why wasn't he at the hospital?

I quickly got up and went downstairs, reaching the first floor just as Jax climbed onto the bus.

My eyes swept over him. His eyebrow rose with its characteristic swagger, and I realized with relief that he looked positively perfect. His clothes weren't ripped or torn, he wasn't limping, and no scrapes or bruises were in sight. There hadn't been an accident—motorcycle crashes didn't leave room for looking like a male model afterward.

Which, of course, left the question of exactly what he'd done with his bike.

"Hi, baby," Jax said, his face drawn into a frown as he reached toward me, pulling me in for a big hug that lasted longer than I expected.

I snuggled into his embrace, but his expression troubled me. My question came out muffled against his chest. "Was there an accident?"

Jax sighed. "No. No accident. Everything's going to be okay."

I looked up, confused. "Well, where's the bike? I saw you leaving on it."

Jax put his hands on my shoulders and gently disengaged from my arms. He took a step back from me, his face still sad. "It's gone."

My mouth fell open. "What . . . why? How?"

Jax's eyes became distant. "I sold it. It was time."

I couldn't believe the words coming out of Jax's mouth. "But you loved that bike."

Jax's lips tightened, and his face went hard. "Doctor's orders. I don't want to talk about it."

Avoiding my gaze, he turned away from me and quickly went into the kitchen. He opened the fridge door and gazed at its contents.

I stared at his back, my heart numb. The bike had been his lifeline, his release. What in the world could the therapist have said to get him to sell it?

I opened my mouth to ask, but Jax interrupted me.