I was a fucking mess.

I didn’t know what time it was, what day it was, or where I was.

The entire plane ride from San Francisco had been a blur, and had it not been for Gwen holding my hand practically the entire trip, I probably would have come out of my skin. Thankfully, Gina and Tate had the band’s jet pick us up and take us to Prague, so we didn’t have to deal with bullshit security lines and layovers.

“He’s gonna be all right,” Gwen tried soothing as one of the security guys drove us through the still-sleepy city. “Garrett texted. The doctor said he was lucky. He’s in the clear, so that’s a good thing.”

It was. And while I was unbelievably grateful that he was going to be okay, it did absolutely nothing to lessen the flaming ball of rage steadily growing bigger and stronger in my gut. It was good he was okay, because I wanted to fucking kill him myself.

I should’ve known something like this would happen. Tatum never came right out and said it the few times we’d talked, but I knew she was worried, and if the most recent stories in the media were anything to go on, she had every right to be. In every celebrity news story I saw, they’d speculated that his hard-partying, wild-man ways seemed to be getting worse, and apparently they’d been right, because he’d just drunk himself nearly to death and right into the goddamn hospital.

“Lyla, honey? You hear me?”

Gwen’s voice forced my mind back to the present. I looked over to give her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry. I kinda dazed off.”

She squeezed my hand, and I really appreciated the show of support.

“We’re here,” she whispered a few minutes later.

We climbed out of the SUV amidst the chaos of photographers and reporters huddled around wanting the scoop on Civil Corruptions lead guitarist’s most recent escapades. The vultures were so consumed with getting their hands on any juicy info that they weren’t paying close enough attention, and Gwen and I were able to walk right in without any of them so much as batting an eye.

We moved straight to the elevators and headed up to the floor we’d been instructed to go to before arriving. The instant the doors slid open, I spotted Garrett and Killian standing farther down the hall. Garrett’s head turned as though he sensed his wife’s presence, and the moment they locked eyes, his entire body visibly sagged with relief. He mouthed something that looked a lot like “Thank Christ” before coming at her like a charging bull.

Seeing them embrace, like they were each other’s everything, the very reason either of them was breathing, tugged at my heart so strongly it caused a physical pain.

Killian’s attention turned to me once we reached his side, and his arm came out to wrap me in a tight hug. “Hey, honey. How you doin’?”

“Where is he?” I asked, my tone as hard and rigid as the rest of me was.

Declan came up to join our little huddle. “He was moved to a private room just a little while ago. We should all be able to go see him in a bit.”

I turned my head to him and bit out, “Now,” so harshly everyone’s eyes widened. “Take me there right now.”

We all trudged along the hospital corridor in silence. When we reached his door my plan to storm right in flew out the window. I jerked to a stop when the memory of my last time in a hospital suddenly came rushing back to me. I froze, staring unseeing down the hall as I relived Will laid out on that hospital bed, his body covered by nothing but a thin white sheet.

“You okay?”

I was so wrapped up inside my head that I jerked at the sound of Gina’s voice. I hadn’t even realized Declan, Kill, and Garrett were already in the room until just then.

“Yeah,” I answered with a brittle smile. “I just need a minute.”

They seemed hesitant, but Gwen, her best friend Corrine, Tate, and Gina eventually moved into Mace’s hospital room, leaving me with a moment of peace. Closing my eyes, I pulled in a deep breath and whispered to myself, “You can do this, Ly. You can do this.”

It took another minute to calm myself down enough and push the image of my brother from my mind before I could find the nerve to go inside. Once I did, all that anger I’d been feeling since the call informing us that Mace would be all right came rushing right back.

His eyes came in my direction, his face paler than I’d ever seen. He looked like absolute shit, and shock registered across his expression the instant he saw me.

“Goldie, honey, you didn’t need to come all the way here. It wasn’t that big a deal. I’m fine.”

The fact that he had the nerve to sit there and say that to me made me snap. “Not a big deal?” I asked quietly before losing my shit altogether. “Not a big deal?” What happened next was like an out-of-body experience. I hadn’t even realized I’d moved until I was at his side, bringing my hand down against his face on a slap so hard it actually hurt my hand. “You selfish son of a bitch! You almost died!”

“Ly, honey—”

When Garrett spoke, my head shot around and I pinned him with a look before turning back to Mason. “You almost fucking killed yourself on my brother’s fucking birthday!”

Speaking that out loud took another piece of me. There was already so little, I wasn’t sure how much more I could lose before there was nothing left of me.

“Lyla—”

“Shut up!” I hissed, before continuing to pour out every ounce of rage and sorrow and gut-wrenching pain into my words. “You aren’t the only one who lost him, Mason. You don’t have a fucking monopoly on the pain of losing someone you love. Do you have any idea what it did to me to get the call that you were in the hospital? What it did to the rest of the guys, to Tate? Did you even once think about someone other than yourself?”

Not a single sound except for Tatum’s soft crying could be heard in the room.

“This is over,” I said when he didn’t bother to reply. “It ends now. You understand me? It’s done. You even so much as touch another bottle and you’ll never see me again.”

I hadn’t realized exactly how much I meant it until I said it, but there it was. And saying that took another piece of me as well.

“Goldie—”

He sounded as ravaged as he looked, but I was done. “No!” I barked as the tears I’d been battling since the phone call so many hours ago started leaking from my eyes and making tracks down my face. “I’ve lost too much. I’m not going to sit here and watch you self-destruct. You want to check out, you’ll be doing it without me.”

That was the last piece I was willing to lose today, so with that I turned and stormed out, rushing into a ladies’ room down the hall so I could dissolve into a sobbing heap without an audience.

* * *

Mace

I hadn’t thought it possible to feel even shittier than I already did, but obviously I’d been wrong. It didn’t have the first goddamn thing to do with alcohol, but everything to do with Lyla.

It had been nearly two days since I got out of the hospital, and while I knew she hadn’t gone back to San Francisco, I hadn’t seen her once. Not that I blamed her for staying away. Not after what I’d put her through.

But I couldn’t stay away. Knowing she was so close after months and not having her within reach was too much to bear.

Two days locked in this goddamn hotel room with nothing but my own company was quickly becoming miserable. There was only so much TV I could watch and so many games I could play on my phone before I lost my mind. It was either stay here and lose what little of my sanity I had left, or seek out the one and only person I wanted to see.

It wasn’t a choice at all. Exiting my suite for the first time in almost two days, I walked down the hall until I reached her door and gave it a gentle knock.

I silently counted the seconds down until the door finally creaked open and her beautiful face appeared.

“Mace,” she said hesitantly before stepping to the side to grant me entrance. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath until that moment.

Letting out a huge exhale, I moved inside and listened as the door closed with a resounding click behind her.

When I turned around, she was standing just inside with her arms crossed over her chest, her stance withdrawn and cautious, but even then there was no missing how gorgeous she was. Even dressed in a pair of plain gray joggers and a simple white tee, with her face free of makeup and all that white-blonde hair tied up sloppily in a knot at the top of her head, she was the most breathtaking woman I’d ever seen. And fuck me, but I’d have given anything in that moment to see her smile.

“What are you doing here, Mace?”

“I….” I should’ve thought of that before I decided to crash her room. At least then I’d have had something to say.

Letting out a frustrated puff of air, I sank down onto the foot of her bed and scrubbed at the three-day-old stubble along my jaw. “I need to apologize,” I finally offered, deciding honesty was the absolute best policy in this scenario. “I swear to you, I didn’t think I had a problem—”

“Just stop.” Her hand came up and her eyes closed on a disappointed shake of her head. “Stop. No fucking excuses.”

“It’s not an excuse,” I exclaimed, shooting up and closing some of distance between us. She automatically backed up a step, and I felt that retreat in my gut like a shotgun blast. It fucking killed.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I whispered. “God, Goldie, you’ve got no goddamn idea how sorry I am. If I could take it back, I would. I never wanted to hurt you like that.”

Her shoulders slumped and her posture relaxed, but only a touch.

“You have to believe that,” I pleaded in a soft tone, chancing a step closer. When she didn’t move away, I closed the last of the distance and placed my palms on either side of her neck. “I never meant to hurt you, and I swear on my life that I’ll never do it again.”

Not leaning down the few inches it would’ve taken me to get to her lips took a strength I didn’t realize I had. Never in my life had a woman meant so much that I’d give up everything, fucking everything for her. If it was the last thing I ever did, if it killed me, I wasn’t going to touch another drop of alcohol as long as I lived.

“Mace.” Lyla’s voice was a barely there whisper as she reached up and wrapped her fingers around my wrists. “I’m glad you’re determined.”

“I am.”

Then her voice started to grow firmer as she continued to speak. “Good. I’ll hold you to that, because I’m not losing another person I love.”

My fingers clenched. “What do you mean?”

She pulled my hands away and stepped back. “It means I’m not willing to let you destroy yourself. It means I’ll be dogging your every step from here on out to make sure you don’t drink another drop. But that’s all this is.”

“Baby—”

“No.” She closed her eyes for a second before looking at me once more. “That’s all it can be, Mace. I care about you. That’s never going to change, but I can’t risk any more than that. I’ve already lost too much.” She moved to the door and opened it, her golden eyes dull with sadness, that brilliant glow that always shone from her shadowed… all because of me. “I’m exhausted. We have a long flight tomorrow, so we both need some rest.”

I’d pushed as much as I could for one night, I knew that. So instead of fighting, I crossed the room toward her and stopped just long enough to lean in and place a kiss on her forehead. “’Night, baby.”

“Good night, Mace.”

Then I left. But just for now. Because I was determined to win her back. And so help me God, I was going to make that light of hers shine again.