“Come on,” one girl grumbled.

“Nope. Come on.”

They protested again, but Kelly shooed them out, and right before she left herself, she called back over to us, “Lock up on the way out, okay?”

Braden was still hugging me to him. He called over my head, “We will. Be down in a bit.”

The door shut again, for the third time. Then he looked down at me, moving a step back to lean against the kitchen door. “You okay?”

“Was that true? What you said before?”

He frowned.

I added, “That Luke came back for me?” I was trying to tell myself that it didn’t matter, but hope had taken root in me. It was deep, deeper than I wanted to admit.

“Oh.” He continued to frown and then nodded. “Yeah. I was coming back for you when our paths crossed. He said he was looking for me and that you had run off. I told him where Emerson was waiting for us and I was going to get you. He told me no, that he’d get you himself, and I needed to take Emerson and get a ride back here.”

Luke had come back for me. “Really?”

“Really.” His eyes were narrowed, trained on my face, and I knew my brother was reading every emotion inside me. “What the hell happened between you two? You started dating Elijah, and I knew the two of you drifted apart, but I assumed it was because of Elijah. Now that Turner’s not back on the scene, I thought everything would go back to normal, but it’s not.”

I sucked in a breath. Luke had been right. Braden had no idea what had happened three years ago. “I can’t, Bray. I just…” It was too hard to think about. “I can’t.”

He held a hand up. “I’m not asking for details. I don’t want to know, but make it right. Whatever happened, correct it, Bri. The band needs you, and we have a real shot at going somewhere.”

“I—”

“Fix it with Luke. I mean it. Fix it.” Then he walked past me. Right before he got to the back door, he called back to me, “The door’s locked, so just shut it behind you. Go tonight, Bri. Go and fix it with him. Please.”

Then the door shut again, and I breathed in and out, one long shuddering breath. Braden was right. I needed to say something to smooth things over. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, but Luke was pissed. I missed my friend. You miss more than that, a voice whispered in my head. I told it to shut up, went out the door, and headed for Luke’s house.

I was tense.

My nerves were stretched thin, and I couldn’t go downstairs. I needed a moment. We had never talked about that night. Stepping inside, I glanced at the kitchen. It was immediately to my right, and I could see it all over. It was like I was there again—three years ago when everything changed. Luke was on his stomach on the floor. His shirt had been ripped, so his entire back was exposed. A huge tear was opened over his back, and there were marks all over him. Lashings. Imprints of fists. Half his back was a deep red, and there were other parts that were already black. Fresh blood seeped out over dried blood.

He’d been beaten. The entire side of his face was swollen. The eye turned toward me was swollen shut with blood streaming from it.

At first, I thought he was dead, and my heart stopped. A moan left him, and my knees almost gave out. I wanted to push all the blood back into him, for all the bruises, broken bones, cuts, and marks to go away and for him to be fine.

I wanted all of it to go away.

Braden was the one who called 911. He heard me screaming…I still didn’t remember that part.

Luke hit a jarring note on his guitar, drawing me from the past and back to reality. Seriously. I’d been ready to take on two thugs beside a dumpster for my stupid-ass cousin, but this had ice filling my veins.

I rolled my eyes upward. What was wrong with me?

The melody was addictive. I felt it reach deep inside me and take root. My breathing wavered as he kept playing. He moved down a chord, and the sound of it seeped into me, smoothing out the haunted memories. Then he began singing. His voice was soft and low, but I could hear it as if I were in the room with him. He was weaving a spell. It was like he threw a spear that had a rope attached to it at me from a hundred yards away, and it embedded deep into my stomach. Then he began pulling on it. I couldn’t fight because it would yank out my insides, but damn, I didn’t want to go with it. This whole thing with Luke was both painful and exhilarating at the same time. I had two urges going through me at once. One was to crap my pants, and the other was to start doing cartwheels.

I was just messed up, which is why I started down the stairs. I still had no clue what to say, but I had to do something.

He was hunched over the guitar in his lap with a beer at his feet. His eyes were closed. As he hit another chord, his thumb beat out the bass. Since he was only wearing jeans, I saw some of the scars on his back. I wanted to go to him, run my hands over those scars, and make them disappear. I couldn’t, though. We weren’t close anymore.

So many ghosts within you

So many haunts to pull you away

You look, I reach out and there’s nothing to do

They take you from me again, far away

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t take your hand

He kept singing, and my heart felt like it was splitting in two, but then he faltered. His eyes opened, and he looked up. He didn’t stop playing, but he stopped singing.

I felt like he was strumming me. I couldn’t look away from his gaze. His thumb stopped hitting the bass, and his fingers slowed on the guitar. “What are you doing here?”