Rock Redemption (Rock Revenge Trilogy 3)

“Oh, now that sounds like a plan.”

With food in their sights, I was able to get them to do the last of the truck in record time. It left me with the details like my studio lights and supplies, but having them put my scaffolding together saved me hours. When the whining became too much, I shooed them away to go get fed.

“Thanks so much, guys. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’re our little sister. It’s our job.” Beck kissed my temple. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right here alone?”

“Yes. I can’t wait to be alone for a little while.”

He rolled his eyes. “Weirdo.”

“That’s artist to you.”

“Right, weirdo.” But he tugged my ponytail and pushed my other brothers out the door with him. “We’ll check on you later.”

I waved them off. “Go eat.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Justin waved and headed for Hayes’s Jeep.

Hayes hovered near my scaffolding. “You really get on this thing?”

“All the time.”

“Why the hell do you need all these canvases to be the size of a giant?”

“Because I like the drama of it.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “Now I’m going to have nightmares of you falling off this thing.”

“Well, if you built it right, I won’t.”

He frowned down at me. “It’s sound.”

“Then don’t worry about me falling. You should have seen what I used to use before—”

He held his hand up. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

I laughed and shoved him toward the door. “Go. Leave me in peace. Thank you for all you did. I appreciate it.”

“I know. I just don’t like the idea of you out here alone.”

Beck honked the horn. “See, they’re waiting. Go on. I was alone in California every day. Out here the only thing that’s going to get me is a grasshopper.”

“All right.”

“You’re worse than Beckett. Off you go. Out!”

“Going!”

“Finally.”

For once, the silence really was a bit too much even for me. I turned on my Bluetooth and synched up my phone with my speaker and put on music that was as far away from Ian as I could find. I settled on Brooklyn Dawn and pulled out one of my prepped canvases and tacked it to the posts I was using for an easel.

I worked for hours, only stopping to drink a gallon of water and eat one of the sandwiches the scavengers had left behind. When my eyes were too bleary, I shut down my studio lights and climbed the ladder to my little loft space. My brain was still too buzzy to settle.

My family’s words were still clanging around in my head.

Did I dare look into a gallery?