“Rissa?” Liam’s voice was full of concern and he dropped down beside me on the couch. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you sick?” He felt my forehead, his eyes troubled.

I couldn’t lie to my brother, but I couldn’t tell him what was wrong either. Not yet, maybe not ever. I wanted to hold onto at least a little of my pride. “I’m not sick,” I assured him, wiping at my tear-streaked face only for more tears to fall. “I don’t want to talk about it, Li.”

His eyes turned stormy. “Did Wroth do something?” I couldn’t help but flinch at the sound of Wroth’s name and my brother’s eyes went a little wild. “What did he fucking do, Rissa?”

“It’s nothing. He didn’t do anything that he didn’t have the right to.” More pain and shame filled me because it was the truth. For the last few weeks while Wroth and I had been getting closer, while I’d let him learn every secret that my body had to give, we had never said one word about being exclusive. And while my brother and Wroth might have tried their hardest to keep me innocent of what the rock world was like, I wasn’t a complete idiot. And one of the biggest rules I’d learned that the majority of them had was that rockers didn’t do exclusivity. They liked their freedom and Wroth still had his.

Liam must have seen exactly how much I was hurting, how deep the pain was, because he didn’t say another word. Just wrapped me up in his arms like he had always done when I was a little girl and rocked me back and forth for the longest time, softly humming the lullaby that Mary Beth had always sang to us as kids. He didn’t release me until the door of the bus opened.

I knew who it was without having to lift my head. I’d always had some sixth sense where he was concerned. Liam went stone still against me, his anger at his cousin evident in every hard line of his handsome face. I clung to him a little tighter for a moment, trying to steal some of his strength before I forced myself to finally look at the man behind me.

When I finally met his gaze, his espresso eyes were full of concern. “Rissa, what’s wrong?”

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Liam demanded, stepping around me so that he stood between me and Wroth, protecting me as he always had.

“Me?” Wroth’s eyes narrowed on my brother. “I haven’t even seen her since last night. I-”

“Li, it’s okay.” I touched his back and he turned to face me. “I need to talk to Wroth. Alone.”

“Rissa…” I clenched my jaw, refusing to argue with him, and he muttered a curse. “Okay, fine. But if you need me call me.”

“I can’t,” I bit my bottom lip. “I lost my cellphone somewhere last night.”

“I have your phone,” Wroth said as he pulled it out of his back pocket. “You must have dropped it in the parking lot…” He broke off when I quickly turned away. A sob bubbled up, trying to break free, but I bit my lip to keep it at bay; biting so hard that I actually tasted blood. “Liam, get out,” Wroth suddenly snarled, letting me know loud and clear that he knew exactly what was wrong with me now.

Liam didn’t leave immediately and I could imagine the stare down that both big men were having behind me, but I didn’t dare turn around to see if I was right. Tears continued to fall. I didn’t want him to see me like this. Didn’t want to have yet another reason to be ashamed, but there was no way I could stop them.

“You’d better not hurt her again,” Liam growled as he stormed off the bus.

It wasn’t until the door was slammed behind my brother that Wroth moved. When I felt his hands touch my shoulders I jerked away and turned to face him, unable to handle his hands on me right then. “Don’t,” I cried. “Don’t touch me ever again.”

“Marissa…” His face was full of strain now, his eyes pleading with me. “What did you see?”

“Enough to know I mean nothing to you.” The sob started to bubble up again and I swallowed it down. “Have you been doing that this whole time?” I demanded, my anger growing by the second. “Do you get me off and then go let your groupies finish what you won’t let me..?”

He grabbed my arms, ignoring my flinch as I tried to pull away. “No, sweetheart. No, never. It wasn’t like that.” His voice was rougher than I’d ever heard it. He pulled me against him, one hand wrapping around my hair and pulling my head against his chest. I felt his lips in my hair, felt his trembling hands. “I’m so sorry, Rissa. So damn sorry.”

My eyes closed, taking a deep breath, inhaling the scent of him that I loved so much. This man had destroyed me, had broken me to the point that I didn’t know if I would ever be able to put myself back together again. So why did I care if his hands trembled, if his voice was full of pained emotion?

I jerked away from him, unable to handle being so close when I was hurting so badly. “Just go, Wroth. I can’t… I just can’t be around you right now.”

For a moment, just a small moment, I thought he was going to protest and demand that we talk about this. If he had I wasn’t sure what would have happened. Maybe I would have broken down and fallen at his feet, demanding to know why he couldn’t want me like he had so obviously wanted Miss Bouncy Boobs last night. Perhaps I would have let him make up some kind of excuse, that what I’d seen had been just a trick of the light and he hadn’t been getting his dick sucked by some skanky-ass slut last night. Or maybe, just maybe I would have gone all ninja on him and kicked his ass for breaking my heart.

But he didn’t, and those maybes were just that. Maybes. He grabbed his stuff and left the bus.

I went to bed and cried myself into a deep, exhausted sleep…

Tears burned my eyes and I blinked them back, wishing I could blink away the memories just as easily. I looked at Wroth across the table spread out with an array of Italian food. I still loved him. Still needed him, wanted him just as much now as I did then. “Why wasn’t I enough for you, Wroth? Why couldn’t you want me?”

“Mari-” He tried to speak, but I didn’t want to hear what he had to say now any more than I had back then.

“You hurt me so much,” I whispered.

“I know, sweetheart. I know and all I can say is that I’m sorry. Just listen for a minute and let me tell you about that night.”

“I can’t.” I wasn’t ready, not by a long shot, to hear him tell me about that night. I knew what I’d seen and it was burned forever into my mind.