Page 106 of A Ballad of Betrayal and Beauty

Izzy sinks into the couch next to Becks, who wraps her arms around her friend.

“I feel so useless,” Becks says.

“I think we all do,” Dave adds.

“I’m just so worried about him,” she continues. “What if—” Her mouth hangs open, and she looks across at me.

I frown. “What if what?”

Her posture straightens. “I just—as someone who’s been to some really dark places in my head,” she admits, and I don’t miss the way that James reaches across and places his hand on her knee. “What if he’s really not okay? He’s all alone without anyone or anything to pull him out.”

The room is pin-drop silent.

“No, I—he wouldn’t . . .” I start to argue, but after everything that’s happened in the past few weeks, how can I be so sure I really know the man? His signature was on those pages. Why did he never tell me what happened with Logan? Why did I never ask? What else is he not telling me? “No, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt himself. Maybe he’s just gone back to Iowa. Maybe there’s proof there that he needs to make this all go away. It has to be or—no. This can’t be over.”

It’s the thing we’ve all been thinking since the accusations came out. That this might be the end. The end of the band. Venues won’t host us. Our music video project with MTV is on hold indefinitely, and as of this afternoon, Al called to tell us the radio won’t be playing any of our songs until the case is settled. And just like Dave said, it doesn’t matter if we know Key is innocent in all of this, we need proof. No one wants to support a band they think is guilty of plagiarizing songs.

I watch as James and Becks, then Izzy and Dave, fall into their respective pairings. If this really is the end, I’m just glad that the four of them have each other. That they’ve been smart with their money, and while they might not make big bucks from music for a while, they’ve got enough under their feet to keep themselves afloat. Most of all, I’m glad they found love.

“Guys, I need to tell you something,” I say.

I nearly laugh as they all collectively hold their breath.

“No, not about the songs. Something else.”

They visibly relax and I sit up a little straighter. Run a hand down my face.

“I, uh . . . I met someone.”

Becks’s mouth drops open, and James blinks at me.

“You . . . wait, what?” Izzy asks. “You met someone? What does that mean?”

I roll my eyes. “It means what it always means, Iz. I met someone. A girl—or, well, a woman.”

It’s possible that Dave’s eyebrows have disappeared. “A woman?”

I nod. “Yeah. Her name’s Dusty and she’s . . . incredible.”

Something small but soft barrels into me, squeezing me into a tight hug. Becks squeals into my ear, “Oh, Joel!”

I hug her back tightly, then she sits next to me on the couch, her arm entwining with mine.

“What’s she like? Where did you meet?”

After the aching sadness that has sat heavy on my chest all day, the thought of Dusty lightens everything just enough. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Red hair, blue eyes . . . legs for days. But she’s more than that too. I don’t know how to describe it.”

James grins.

“And funnily enough, I met her for the first time the night of your wedding,” I say to Becks and James.

Becks taps a finger to her cheeks while James scratches his head, and I can even see Izzy and Dave trying to figure it out.

“Wait,” Dave says, “you met her in Vegas?”

“Really?” Becks asks. “How serendipitous is that?”

“But you were—” James cuts himself off. “Holy shit, Joel, is she a . . . stripper?”

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