“I can explain—”
“Save it.” I’d heard every excuse in the book and then a few more.
We weren’t together.
We weren’t anything.
Levi was my boss and this photo was bad for business.
“I need to find Letty.” I brushed past them, but Levi snagged my wrist. “Wait, we should talk about this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m your assistant, you’re my boss, and we need to get on this thing before it spirals out of control.”
“Phoebe, don’t do this.” He sounded so desperate, but I couldn’t cave, not now.
Not after seeing that.
“Do what?” I pasted on a fake smile, forcing down every single thing I felt for Levi.
“For real? You’re going to stand there and pretend last night meant nothing?”
“One night.” I shrugged unable to meet his eyes. “That’s what we agreed. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a job to do.”
He released me and staggered back as if I’d burned him. I hurried out of there, but heard him shout, “Phoebe.”
“Let her go,” Rafe said.
And then I heard a sound I hadn’t witnessed yet.
I heard Levi Hunter completely lose his shit.
The End.
I hope you enjoyed Rock… Levi and Phoebe’s full story is coming in Ruin: The Reprise, available here
Black Hearts Still Beat
The sweetheart of Country is about to show the bad boys of Rock, it only takes a single beat for everything to change.
Eva and Rafe’s Trilogy
Rush: The Beginning
Rise: The Interlude
Rule: The Finale
Black Hearts Still Beat: Eva and Rafe’s Trilogy
Levi and Phoebe’s Story
Ruin: The Reprise
Angsty. Edgy. Addictive RomanceAuthor of mature young adult and new adult novels, L A is happiest writing the kind of books she loves to read: addictive stories full of teenage angst, tension, twists and turns. Home is a small town in the middle of England where she currently juggles being a full-time writer with being a mother/referee to two little people. In her spare time (and when she’s not camped out in front of the laptop) you’ll most likely find L A immersed in a book, escaping the chaos that is life.
L A loves connecting with readers.
The best places to find her are:
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Megara
The white walls of the Emergency Room are blinding. The beige and brown tile floors, the ones with the crisscross pattern, are somehow too bright and too full at once.
The chairs are too green.
Too slick.
The vinyl is too hard.
And the beds—they’re all wrong. The sheets are that same shade of soft blue, impossibly muted from a thousand and one washes in scalding hot water.
But I can’t look at them without seeing Rosie.
Her blue lips.
Her pale skin.
Those track marks on her arms.
I close my eyes, but that doesn’t help. I still see her. Not the empty vessel of her no longer breathing body, but the lively high school senior modeling her fuchsia prom dress, and reminding me of her cover story in case Mom or Dad got off work early.
The proud UCLA graduate, tossing her royal blue cap into the air.
The knowing older sister who plopped on my bed to fill me in on her date and tease me about being all work and no play.
She was here last week.
Then she was in one of those beds.
Now, she’s gone.
My stomach twists, but it doesn’t hurt. My heart doesn’t hurt. My muscles don’t ache.
Every part of me is numb.
Dr. Nyguen shoots me a concerned look. “You ready to go, Meg?”
No. And she knows it. This is too soon. Back to working as a scribe a week after my sister…
I shouldn’t be here.
But there’s nowhere else I want to be.
There’s nowhere I want to be, period.
I nod back at her. “I’m ready.”
She doesn’t believe me, but she doesn’t call me on it.
• • •
It’s a twenty minute walk home. After a quick shower, I boot up my laptop to stream the Los Angeles alternative rock station KROQ, and I collapse in bed.
There’s nothing interesting on social media. Or on any of the news sites I frequent. Not that anything interests me right now.
I boot up a match-three game and click the shiny tiles mindlessly. I don’t feel any thrill when the gems match and explode. In fact, the cutesy graphics are grating my nerves.
But I need something to occupy my hands and my mind. The game keeps my eyes busy. The radio keeps my ears busy. Between the two, my head fills with mindless chatter. Usually, that would annoy me. Not right now. Right now, mindless chatter is my saving grace. Mindless chatter is the only thing keeping me from sinking into oblivion.
After an hour, I switch to playing FreeCell. An hour of that and my eyes and hands get tired. It’s late. I’m tired. Maybe I’ll be able to fall asleep.
I push my laptop aside, brush my teeth, change into my pajamas, and get back into bed.
It’s a hot night, but I don’t feel that either. I can’t feel anything but the dryness in my eyes and the heaviness in my heart.
The song switches from a Nirvana classic to an inviting guitar riff. I haven’t heard it before.
Which means it’s new. I listen to this station non-stop. I know every song they play.
The riff is moody and catchy. Then the bass and drums are kicking in, and I can feel the song everywhere.
The singer’s voice flows into my ears. He’s groaning with this unspeakable pain. This song is loud and big and incredibly rock ‘n’ roll, but somehow he’s singing to me.
He’s singing for me.
I only catch bits and pieces of the verse. Can’t sleep. No… recovery.
I only catch hints of the chorus. A minute here and then you’re gone.
I close my eyes and focus all my attention on the song. It doesn’t help me pick out the words of the second verse. I’m too caught up in the singer’s pain. He knows how this feels. He knows how badly this hurts.
This time, I catch every word of the chorus.
That word, a joke, you laugh.
“Running away again, kid?”
A minute here
and then you’re gone.
I catch snippets of the third verse.
Four weeks now.
That hole, that dread.
I can barely breathe
Four weeks now. That’s an eternity. That hole, that dread, that inability to breathe—every inch of my being knows those awful feelings.
Every inch of my being is sure that this song is about exactly what I’m going through.
I listen closely in hopes of the D.J. spilling the name or the band, but he doesn’t. He switches right into Everlong by the Foo Fighters. Normally, I appreciate the song, even if it’s a little overplayed. Right now, it goes right through my ears.