“They will,” he insists.

He squeezes my hand and together we walk out toward the elevators. The doors ding and we get in, pressing the button for the lobby. Next thing I know, Key has me pressed up against the mirrored walls, his lips locked on mine. That nervous jolt turns into butterflies as my arms snake their way around his neck. His lips are like a drug—my whole body feels alive at their caress, my nerves tingling.

The elevator dings again and we walk outside into the cool early evening air. Only it’s anything but peaceful as we notice Logan waiting for us with a menacing stare.

“This isn’t over, Prentiss,” he half shouts. Several onlookers on their way home from work slow down to watch.

Key sighs. “Samuels, enough. You lost. Deal with it; you’re never going to get any money out of this.”

He steps closer and the hairs on my arms raise in alarm. “Money? That was only half of it.” Logan begins to laugh wildly and I grasp Key’s arm tighter.

“Then what?” Key shouts. “What else could you possibly have wanted from all this?”

“To destroy you and that piece of shit you call a bass player.”

“That’s what this is all about? You’re jealous of him?”

Logan is right in his face now, only a few inches separating Key’s straight nose from Logan’s crooked one. “How do you think it felt to hear those songs on the radio over and over again and know that should’ve been me?”

My whole body is rigid, certain that at any moment one of them is going to swing at the other. Then I feel Key sigh and the tension in his back eases.

“Logan, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

My eyes widen, and Logan blinks as though not sure he heard him right.

“I was in a really bad place when we were at Samson Academy, we all were, but I can’t help that I connected more with Joel than with you. And if you recall, we never actually kicked you out of the band.”

There’s a long moment that presses down on all three of us—as though the very breeze dares not to blow. For a minute, I think that Logan will apologize as well, but then his face contorts into a fierce rage.

“You’re such a pretentious piece of shit. And your apology is fucking worthless, just like you. Just like you’ve always been.”

“He’s a better man than you’ll ever be,” I say, pulling Logan’s focus.

His eyes narrow and his lip curls as he looks me up and down. “This is her, isn’t it?”

Key tenses. “What are you talking about?”

“She’s the slut you knocked up. Isn’t she?”

“Enough,” he says with a deadly calm. “You lost. Deal with it. You thought you could take everything away from me and win? You’re a liar who, rather than do any real work for yourself, has to steal it from others.”

“At least I’m not a dumbfuck who had to cheat off me in school just to pass your exams.” Then he turns to me with a cruel smile. “This is the father of your baby? A fucking retar?—”

I’m not sure where it comes from, but suddenly my hand is stinging, a bright-red palm print blistering over Logan’s cheek as he stumbles back. My vision blurs as my eyes fill with tears. There’s a sudden silence that comes over the space. Perhaps it’s because everyone has stopped breathing, unlike me who is gulping down air to try and keep upright.

Logan’s cupping his reddening cheek, looking stunned. “You bitch!” he shouts, his hands whipping out to push me back. His force hits me and I stumble, but before I can even right myself, a loud crack echoes down the street and I watch as Logan falls like a sack of potatoes to the ground. Key is shaking as he stands over Logan’s unconscious body, his fist bloody where the skin on his knuckles is torn open.

“Key,” I whisper. He turns to me, checking me over with trembling hands.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I nod. “I’m fine, I—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have?—”

“No, you definitely should have. He crossed a line on so many levels.”

We both stare down at the limp pile of limbs. “We should call an ambulance,” I say begrudgingly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell my secretary to make the call.”