My mother always seemed to hold out hope that things would get better, and I wished she would have lived long enough to see that they had. I no longer feared what tomorrow would bring, but the loss of her weighed heavy in my heart, and I felt guilty that I was able to move on with my life, leaving everyone else behind.

Angels have found their wings from you,

battered and bruised when they come through

Maybe I didn’t have a choice in the way it all ended. Maybe the course my life was on had been predetermined and the only control I had was how I handled the situations as they came my way.

This world was cruel and unforgiving,

not fit for angels to live in

Said I would never be alone,

lying on empty sheets in a place that’s not my home

I closed the notebook, and my eyes drifted up to the pictures of Tucker plastered to the roof of the bunk, reminding me that I was safe now, that that life was behind me, reminding me of the man who helped pull me out of that life and into this new one.

I slid out of the bunk, chewing on my lip as I walked to the table at the front of the bus. I dropped the notebook in front of Tucker, and his eyes drifted up to meet mine.

“I’m gonna step outside and get some air.” I turned and left the bus, suddenly feeling vulnerable and terrified. I couldn’t bear to hear what they had to say about my writing—I felt like I’d left a piece of my soul behind on that table, poised for their evisceration. Lyrics are their livelihood, and if they don’t like them, they won’t hesitate to tell me.

The sun was beginning to set, but the air was still muggy and holding on to the heat of the day. I was so nervous I contemplated going to a store and getting a pack of cigarettes, but I knew I would never hear the end of it from Tucker, so I continued to chew on my lip as I waited for what felt like a lifetime.

Finally the door swung open, and Tucker stepped down off the steps of the bus. I didn’t look at him as I fidgeted with the hem of my T-shirt.

I searched his face for some sort of reaction as he came to my side and leaned against the bus.

“It’s really fucking hard to read about what happened to you.” He kicked a few stones with his shoe. “But you did an amazing job.”

“What do the guys think?”

“They love it. Terry and Chris are already trying to figure out the beat to the song.”

“Really?” I finally allowed myself to look up at him. He was smiling, clearly finding my insecurity amusing.

“I meant what I said earlier. If this manager wants you gone, I’m leaving with you.”

“I won’t let you do that.”

“You don’t have a choice. I can’t live without you, Cass. Not again.”

I nodded and wrapped my arms around his neck. I loved how he fought for us, even when I didn’t think it was the best thing for him to do. His hand ran up and down my spine before he pulled back to look me in the eye.

“I love you more than anything. I know it’s hard for you to believe that, sweetheart, but I am willing to do anything to prove it to you.”

“I know you love me, Tucker. So much.”

The rest of the band began to file out of the bus, and I reluctantly pulled back from our embrace.

“Good job, Cass.” Chris placed his hand on my shoulder as he walked by. I beamed. Maybe I really had found my calling.

8

THE CONCERT WAS in full effect, and the air was buzzing with excitement backstage. The show would be twice the size of last night’s. Filth was just finishing up their set.

“Break a leg out there.” I gave Tucker a kiss on the cheek as Eric made gagging sounds from behind us. I rolled my eyes and shot him the finger behind Tucker’s back.

“I’ll see you soon.” We could hear the crowd roar from backstage. “That’s our cue.”

Sarah approached me with a wicked grin.

“What are you up to?” Tucker gave me a look of concern. I shook my head, no clue what she was planning.

“Girl time.” Sarah looped her arm in mine and pulled me from Tucker’s side. I shot him an apologetic look as she dragged me off to the hallway.

“Love you,” I mouthed, and Tucker winked at me as they disappeared in the opposite direction.

I focused my attention on the sweaty and overly excited rock star who was dragging me off into the unknown.

“Where are we going?” I asked as she shot me a smile.

“I figured after the drama, you could use a little pampering.”

I pulled back from her, but she kept a firm grip on my arm.

“Every girl needs to be pampered, and I don’t ever get to do this stuff.” She gave me her best puppy-dog eyes.

We slipped inside a closed door marked PRIVATE.

“What is this place?”

“Hair and makeup.” She was beaming with excitement. “Sit.”

“This is going to be a disaster.” I sat down in a chair in front of a large oval mirror.

“That’s the spirit!” Sarah stood behind me, sinking down so her face was next to mine as she inspected my reflection. “I can work with this.”

I giggled as I rolled my eyes, propping my feet up on the bar below the mirrored stand.

“So how is the writing going?” she asked as she grabbed a brush and began running it over my hair.

“Hold still, Cassie. Mommy can’t braid your hair if you keep squirming like a worm in your seat!” The memories of my mother flooded my thoughts, and I was overwhelmed with how much I missed the little moments we had together. I wished I had told her how much those times meant to me before she died.

“Hello? Earth to Cass!”

“Sorry. I wrote a song . . . I think. The guys really liked it. They want to play it.”

Sarah made a face letting me know she was impressed.

“Well aren’t you big-time now?” She gathered my hair and pulled it back with a hair tie. “How do you feel about makeup?”

“Repulsed.”

“Good enough. I am going to paint you up like a movie star.” Sarah spun my chair around to face her. “No peeking until I’m done.”

“You’re wasting your time. It’s like putting lipstick on a pig.” I laughed and actually snorted.

“You don’t have many female friends, do you?” She raised an eyebrow as she grabbed some sort of base coat to slather on my face.

“Do you?”

“None,” she said as she began to rub the creamy concoction over my cheeks. “It’s nice to have you here.”

I smiled, feeling exactly the same way.

“Now stop grinning or you’re gonna look like the Joker.”

I let her paint my face as we talked about love and relationships. I told her the story of how Tucker and I met, leaving out the most gruesome details of our relationship. She told me about her relationship with Derek and how it took them months to be able to be around each other after it ended. In the end, she felt the breakup was the best thing for them and the band.

“What do you think of Eric?” I asked as she pulled my hair down and ran her fingers through it, deciding which style she wanted to try.

“He’s . . . cute.” Her cheeks blushed.

“I think he likes you. When he looks at you, it is the only time he doesn’t look like he is plotting out someone’s murder.” I closed my eyes as her fingers rubbed over my scalp, separating my hair into sections.

“Too bad our band has a policy not to get involved with other bands.” She shrugged like it was no big deal, but I could tell it upset her.

“Who better than someone who has a passion for the same things you do?” I asked.

“The guys would kill me. How do you feel about curls?”

“They’re okay, I guess. You’re changing the subject.”

“How would you feel if you broke up with Tucker and still had to work with him? Would you be able to see him with someone else?”

“I think it would break my heart all over again.”

“Exactly. I keep my mouth shut about Derek and his groupies, but it still hurts. I understand why he doesn’t want to see me with one of these other guys. I get it.” Sarah began to curl small sections of my hair as we chatted. I could completely understand her situation, but I couldn’t imagine how lonely it must be for her.

“Can I look in the mirror?” I asked, craning my neck as it began to stiffen.

“No! It would spoil all the fun! I want it to be a surprise!”

“I hate surprises.”

“Not all surprises are bad.” She laughed as she pulled another section free to curl.

“Fine, I’ll wait,” I smirked. “But I am not happy about it.”

“Duly noted.” Sarah continued to work her fingers through my hair, bringing my thoughts back to my mother. It was one of the few fond memories I had of her. It was also one of the worst when I looked back at the way my father had put her down and prevented her from following her dreams.

“You look like a princess,” my mother praised me as she finished curling my hair. I ran off to my room to pull on my favorite dress, excited to surprise my father for his birthday. He had been at work all day and was due home two hours ago. After checking the clock for the hundredth time, she finally took my hand and walked me down to O’Brian’s, a local bar that Daddy sometimes went to after work to unwind with his friends.

As we walked through the door, she stopped, trying to pull me back outside, but I saw my dad sitting at the bar. I pulled my hand free from hers and ran to him. He was shocked but surprised when I yelled happy birthday.

“This certainly is a surprise.” His eyes narrowed as they locked on Momma who was still standing by the door, tears falling down her cheeks.