Rock Revenge (Rock Revenge Trilogy 1)

“Yes, I’m here. Sorry. It’s just been a lot to deal with. It came out of nowhere…” She trailed off, fisting her hand in her nightshirt. The unexpected was the only thing they could count on lately.

“I get that. You don’t expect to find out news like that on TV, for God’s sake. I mean, who does that? Why not send a damn card or note? It’s cruel.”

“A note saying, ‘hey, guess what, you have a brother’?” The ridiculousness of the whole situation made her laugh, though none of it was funny. “Li’s looking into it. Who knows if it’s even true? You know crackpots make up stories all the time—”

“You don’t believe it?”

“You do?”

“Well, just look at him. Listen to him. They look and sound as much alike as we do. More so actually, because you’re so much taller. And I definitely win on the round score right now.” Jules let out a self-deprecating laugh.

Margo shut her eyes.

“Though I guess maybe you’re right,” Jules said after a moment. “Not everyone who looks alike is related. But their voices are sort of damnable, aren’t they?”

“Damnable is one way to put it.”

“Are you okay? You don’t sound good. Worried about Simon, but not just that. You always have so much energy.”

“We’ve been going pretty much nonstop. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

In truth, she’d been sleeping more than she ever had. She’d had little choice. It was either take naps or nearly blink out sitting up. That kind of behavior wouldn’t go unnoticed for long. Especially among her prolific baby-making band. It seemed as if the lot of them were perpetually having children or trying to.

Except her and Simon. They’d been the happily childless ones.

Damn Oblivion water.

“It’s so easy to get rundown on tour. But you’ve been killing it in your shows. Especially last night. Whoa, sis, I saw some of that footage. YT was on fire. Or actually, it was you and Simon who were on fire. Jeez, I can only imagine why you aren’t sleeping. Holy crap.”

Margo flushed and threw off the covers, sliding her legs over the side of the bed. She had a sudden urge that had nothing to do with finding her MIA husband. “Can you hold on a sec?”

“Sure.”

She hurried into the bathroom to take care of business, then quickly washed up and came back to grab the phone. “Okay. Sorry. What about you? How’s the pumpkin?”

“Tristan’s fine, though I’m going to be the pumpkin soon with how he’s feeding me.” Jules snorted. “Oh, wait, you meant the baby?”

“Smartass, yes. My niece or nephew. Though I really think you should find out the sex beforehand. How can you stand to wait? I couldn’t.”

She also couldn’t stand still, as proven by the way she was pacing barefoot in front of the windows. In between, she kept glancing at the door, willing Simon to materialize.

Where could he be? Was he all right? She had to believe she’d know if something had happened to him, but everything was so jumbled inside her right now. She had so many worries competing for space.

“Yeah, well, surprises are fun. Besides, we needed this time. This space to get ready.” Jules exhaled. “You know how much we want this baby.”

“Yes, I do.” Guilt flared inside her, because it hadn’t always been that way for her. She hadn’t planned on having children. Jules hadn’t either, at least to her knowledge, but falling in love could change everything.

It had changed it all for Jules. And then she’d lost so much, even as she gained a whole new life.

“But celebrating was—is—hard. Painting the nursery has been about all we’ve managed so far, and even that’s been in fits and starts. Sage green,” Jules put in. “A nice neutral color, just in case. Though we wouldn’t be about the whole pink and blue parade anyway. Kinda doesn’t fit to be traditional when we’re anything but.”

Margo’s eyes filmed over. Randy, the man her sister and Tristan had lost, had been as sweetly traditional on the surface as they came, yet he’d been the third spoke of their trio. He’d been their center, their rock.

And he’d been ripped away, leaving them to figure out how to pick up the pieces.

Margo still woke up in a cold sweat some nights, with Jules’ heart-rending cries in her head. Those first days and weeks had been so hard on all of them. That Jules had been newly pregnant for the first time had been just one more ache. Still, that baby had kept

her and Tristan moving forward. No matter who the biological father was, they would always carry that piece of Randy with them. And they never intended to find out, unless it became medically necessary.