Page 80 of Tainted Tempos

Dark night and the whip of salty spray across my cheeks.

Bright colors and the thrum of a nightclub.

Perfect lines of white powder. The intense burn of whiskey. Sweet cigarette smoke.

My stomach clenches, and my mind whirls.

Women. So many women. But I flick them away like gnats because...none of them are my angel.

None of them are my Mckenna.

My wife.

I fucking love her.

But I already lost her. I hurt her. I’m not worthy of her.

Something in my chest rips wide open, and agony fills the cavity.

I lost my angel because I broke her fucking heart.

Even though I swore to protect it.

TWENTY-THREE

MCKENNA

My chest hurts.My heart aches. My mind spins.

Maverick nearly died. He almost overdosed.

And now, he’s in a detox program for the next two weeks.

It’s my fault.

I heard the conversation between him and his bandmates the evening before.

“You need help, Mav,” Levi breathes out.

“Consider this an intervention,” Reign adds.

Jameson sighs. “You gotta detox, brother.”

“You focus on you,” Derek says. “On getting the help you need.”

“On doing the goddamn work,” Levi tacks on. “Because it’s going to be hard as fuck.”

“But we need you, Mav.” Jameson’s voice is laced with emotion. “The Burnt Clovers need you. I need you.”

I need him too. Oh, God, do I need him.

But I didn’t say it. I didn’t say anything because I couldn’t even be in that hospital room, staring at Maverick, lying in a bed and hooked up to an IV. I couldn’t face him after I pushed him to react this way. To hurt himself. To nearly overdose.

I shake my head, unwilling to accept the reality of what almost happened.

It didn’t.

But it could have.

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