Blake stared at the door, his body numb except for the stabbing pain emanating from under his ribs. He no longer needed to fight. If he didn’t have Gabi to protect, it didn’t matter who found out about the darkness in his life.

Reckless Beat didn’t matter. The band was his home, his sanctuary, but Gabi was his heart and soul. Without her, there was no point.

“Blake, we need to discuss this.” Leah came up behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders.

Her touch should’ve brought comfort. He felt nothing—no hope, no relief, no peace. “I don’t give a shit anymore,” he whispered and meant it. “I’m done.”

He turned on her, and she stepped back, her brow furrowed.

“Give Gabi the time she asked for. I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but you’ll work it out. She loves you.”

“She loved me,” he corrected. The love Gabi once held for him wasn’t in question. She had loved him. He’d known that. And now that love was gone.

Mason pushed from the sofa. “Come on, Blake. There’s a shit-storm brewing and you’re caught in the middle. We need to sort this out and address the media before it gets out of hand.”

Shit-storm was an understatement. The taint of abusing a woman would never leave him, guilty or not. The question would always hover in the back of people’s minds.

“I didn’t do it,” he muttered, sliding his fingers through his now greasy hair. God, how he wished Michelle had never entered his life. He never had much of a reputation to uphold, but damned if he wanted to go down in history as the drug addicted, woman abuser.

“I know that!” Mason spat, striding forward. “Do you really think any of us would believe you’re capable of doing that? Christ, Blake, fuckin’ man up.” Mason got in his face and glared at him. “We’re family. Your innocence isn’t in question. We just need to get your story to the media before they start spinning shit that can’t be fixed.”

Blake glanced away, frowning hard to fight the tightening in his chest. “I can’t—” He cleared his throat, pushing back the emotion. “I can’t do this without her.”

He should’ve known from the start that keeping her out was the wrong thing to do. She was his guardian angel, the one who fought his battles with ease and continuously placed him on the right track. She was his strength. His clarity. His everything.

“Don’t worry about Gabi. That woman knows you’ve got a champagne flavored cock. She’ll be back beggin’ for more.” Mason smirked, yet the arrogance didn’t reach his eyes, instead concern hung heavy in his friends brown irises. “And if not, you can always go back to begging. I’ve never had to do it myself. Maybe you could ask Ryan for pointers.”

Blake released a ragged excuse for a laugh and led them back to the sofa. Sitting back on the mattress, he waited for Leah and Mason to get comfortable.

This was it—the end.

“I was with Gabi last night.” He stared at his feet and pressed his toes into the heavy carpeting. “She’s my alibi.”

Leah let out a relieved breath. “That’s great. Why didn’t you tell me straight away? The news kept repeating that Michelle hadn’t made a statement, but the two of you were seen fighting in the lobby last night. There was even amateur footage.”

“At least it’s an easy fix with the media and cops,” Mason added.

“I’ll call hotel management,” Leah stood, her relief palpable. “We can make a statement from the front of the building and stop the rumors before they spread.”

“Wait,” Blake murmured, glancing up to briefly make eye contact with Mason. God, this was going to hurt. He’d always looked up to the lead singer. He had has shit together all day, every day, when Blake continuously felt like he was flailing. “Michelle is blackmailing me.”

“For what?” Leah frowned, retreating to drop back into the sofa. “With what? What would she have over you?”

Blake retrieved his cell from his back pocket and scrolled through to the picture message from Michelle. With a deep breath, he did exactly what he’d done with Mitch and handed the phone over.

Leah didn’t say a word. Her disappointment was clear in the barely discernible way she shook her head.

“Show me.” Mason grabbed the phone and stared at the image. “When the fuck was this taken? You look like a minor.”

“A few months after I started with Reckless.”

“Are you still using?” Leah asked softly.

“No.” He shook his head and stared at her, trying to convey his sincerity. “I haven’t touched drugs or even alcohol in four years… I’m sorry, Leah. I know this is going to create a nightmare for you, and that’s the last thing I want. I hoped to fix the situation by myself. Obviously I can’t even do that right.”

He clenched his jaw and turned his attention back to his feet. “Michelle started me on cocaine the first night we met, and it didn’t take long for me to realize I had a problem. I started craving the high—on stage, alone, even when I woke in the middle of the night to take a piss. That’s when I found Gabi.”

Silence. Leah and Mason didn’t move, they barely even breathed.

“She was an online drug addiction counselor. Well, not even a properly trained counselor. She was just there to keep an eye on the chat groups and provide moral support when possible. The first night we spoke, she saved me.”

He glanced up at Leah and winced at the tears in her eyes. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t fucking cry. “With a few simple words, she gave me strength and helped me get through the hardest days… It was all her. Gabi is the only reason I’m here. Nothing else. I couldn’t save myself. I never can. I’m too fucking weak. I owe her everything.”

Leah stood, closing the distance between them and sat beside him on the bed. He swallowed over the growing lump in his throat and leaned into her as she ran her hand around his shoulders.

“Damn,” Mason whispered. “I bow down to your secrecy skills, man. I had no clue.”

“Me either,” Leah whispered. “It shows how horribly lacking I’ve been in my position. I should’ve noticed…paid more attention.”

“No.” Blake shook his head. “This has nothing to do with you. I’ve fucked up enough in my life to know how to keep my mouth shut, and in the beginning I couldn’t think past losing my position in the band. I would’ve done anything to keep it quiet.”

“And now?” Mason asked.

Blake sucked in a deep breath. He was still hollow, numb and detached from the neck down. “And now, none of it seems to matter. All I want is Gabi’s forgiveness. I can’t see past losing her. She’s all that matters to me.” He raised his gaze to Mason. “I’m sorry, bro. I’ve fucked up, and I know having me kicked out of the band will cause a lot of extra work for you.”

“Kicked out of the band? Like hell.” Mason frowned. “That’s not gonna happen.”

Leah cleared her throat and released her grip on Blake’s shoulder. “Unfortunately, it could. Blake’s contract with the label has a morality clause for exactly this reason. Anyone seen to bring the label into disrepute or do anything that could harm sales can be in breach of contract. I’ve seen it happen before…mainly in groups with members that the label feels are interchangeable.”

Meaning me.

“So, you’re saying he could get the axe ‘cause the label thinks we could find a replacement?” Mason sneered. “That’s bullshit.”

“That’s life,” Leah countered. “Reckless have always stood proud against the claims of drug abuse in the music industry. Hell, last time we were in Richmond, you visited the drug rehab center and the story was covered by the local newspaper. This won’t go down easily, by the label or the community.”

“It’s OK.” Blake shrugged. “I’ve come to terms with leaving.”

“No. Fuck that!” Mason pushed to his feet. “It’s not an option. If Blake goes, I go. Simple as that.”

Blake’s heart clenched, showing the first sign of life since Gabi left. He had no clue what he’d done to deserve friends—family—like this. If their roles were reversed, Blake would put his career on the line for any one of the Reckless guys, no questions asked. He simply hadn’t expected Mason to do the same.

“Leah, call the label. Tell them what’s going on and find out what they plan to do.” Mason stood tall, his eyes flashing with anger. “If they plan to get rid of Blake, I’m walking. They can find someone else to earn them millions.”

“It doesn’t work like that.” Leah sighed. “You’re the lead singer, Mason, and under a tight contract. You can’t walk away because you disagree with a decision they are legally entitled to make.”

“I know I can’t,” Mason shot back. “But I can be in Time Square snorting coke off the sidewalk in less time than it takes to organize a press conference. And unlike Blake, I don’t give a shit about my reputation. My low morality was cemented years ago.”

“Christ!” Leah rubbed her forehead. “Just settle down. Who says this needs to go public anyway? Can’t we continue to keep it quiet?”

“No.” Blake sat in shocked silence, unable to believe the lengths Mason would go through to save him, but he couldn’t continue to hide. “I can’t live a lie anymore. I need to get it out in the open so I can move on.”