Falling into You (Falling Stars 3)

He smacked his hand over his heart. “How dare you! The blasphemy. Stab a boy in the heart, why don’t you? I’ll just be over here bleeding to death.”

He went blazing around a corner, the town coming up fast, words still running nonstop from that flapping mouth. “Words hurt, man. Cut as deep as a knife. Fuck that old saying about sticks and stones. We know the real dagger is the tongue. And here I thought you had my back. I bet you’ve been trying to get rid of me for years.”

“You never know.”

Okay, so Rhys Manning was a badass. There was no secret that the ladies loved the hell out of him, boy nothing but charm and charisma, but truth of the matter was he was a fucking beast on the bass. Out of this world talented.

Just like the rest of us.

Unfortunately, Rhys loved to cross every line that had been drawn.

“Don’t make me bury you in a shallow grave, man. You know that would hurt me more than it would hurt you,” he said, choking back tears.

Pure feigned affliction.

A chuckle rambled around in my chest.

“Do I need to call Melanie to come pick you up?” I raised a brow, waved my phone in the air in warning.

“What? God no. Save me. Mells Bells gets off on cracking the whip.”

Melanie was our band manager and my sister’s oldest friend. Had grown up across town, the girl as close as family. Was pretty sure we’d be a shitshow if it wasn’t for her making us toe the line.

“I’m on vacation, remember? Why would you go and threaten something as horrifyin’ as that?” he asked.

“You know you love her bossin’ you around.”

His head shook. “Nah. Not the way you think, man.”

“Sure.”

“I am nothing but the speaker of the truth.”

He barely slowed as the farms disappeared behind us and the buildings got closer together.

In the daylight, I glanced around at our small hometown of Dalton, South Carolina.

As hard as I tried to keep it down, dread rose.

A searing burn that slugged its warning through my veins.

Nothing but heavy, lethargic beats, heart this slow, hardened drum I could feel in my ears.

Attempting to ignore it, I took in my surroundings.

The place felt so far removed and so familiar at the same time.

Sunshine blazed from above, the sky an endless blue, and a cool breeze swished through the leaves of the trees that grew from the strategically placed planters along the sidewalks. Boughs of colorful flowers grew around them.

Stores lined the narrow streets that had been there for as long as I could remember, old brick buildings that looked like they’d been haphazardly glued together, every color and shape.

Beneath the rays of sunlight, in the brightness of the day, I could almost forget that I’d been chasing down a monster haunting the shadows last night.

Could almost pretend like I didn’t feel ghosts prowling for their prey.

My attention scanned, peering into the alleys and coves like the bastard would show his face in the light of day.

Lurking at the fringes of peace.

Fact that some monster was out there had me riding a razor-sharp edge. Butt that up against the thoughts of Violet that swirled and taunted and fought for acclaim?

Had no clue what I was supposed to do. Where I should stand. The lines of my loyalty that should be solid and underscored in black had become grayed.

Right and wrong no longer clear.

Rhys actually accelerated instead of slowed as he took a hard right, tires squealing as we went. I held onto the door handle, leaning with the turn.

Unease shivered beneath my skin when I glanced around.

I was right.

Town wasn’t going to be a whole lot safer than facing down my mother.

Every eye on the street shifted our direction as Rhys blazed like a demon down Main Street, speculation and judgement hot on our tail.

Let’s just say Rhys and I didn’t have the best reputations around here. The bad boys who’d slayed their daughters’ hearts and rained havoc on the quaint, quiet streets. Country boys who’d gone rogue, selling our souls for bigger and better things, that dotted line signed in our blood, success and fame and riches at the cost of condemnation.

Sounded about right.

Rhys rammed on the gas, whipping around an old truck that rambled down the road. Dude fucking laughed as he blew by.

I pitched him a glare. “You couldn’t possibly buy anything less flashy, could you?”

“Absolutely not,” he said, tossing me a grin as he gunned it around a corner.

Asshole was nothing but a bull on a rampage, tearing shit up and being as loud as possible while doing it.

“You compensating for something?” I let the razz out into the air.

He laughed maniacally. “Oh, dear brother. You only wish. Believe me, I don’t have a thing to make up for.”

He waggled his brows, dude still looking at me when he made a sharp right and skidded into the parking lot of the grocery store.