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Luella is front and center, standing with Xanthe and singing along to my lyrics. My first album was a hit, and I’ve agreed to do a tour as long as Luella will come with me.

I haven’t seen Aspen since that last time, and I have reservations that I could ever forgive her for what she put Luella through.

Yeah, I’m all she has, but she should have appreciated that a little more instead of trying to harm the love of my life.

After I finish my set, I put down the guitar, and Luella meets me backstage, running and jumping into my arms. “You were incredible.”

“Thank you, my muse.” I grin, kissing her hungrily. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you more.”

EPILOGUE

Lore

Leaning back on the couch, I sip my ice-cold beer. Candy, one of the hot blondes from Club Cobra, is working the pole, giving me a private show, while Rose, one of the club girls, is on her knees in front of me, sucking my dick down her throat.

Does life get any better than this?

My hand tangles in Rose’s curly hair, controlling her movements. I let her linger on the head of my cock before she sucks as much of me as she can take down. Her eyes stay downcast, not looking up at me—just how I like it. Eye contact is too fucking intimate, and this isn’t about that.

My phone buzzes from the arm of the couch, and at first, I ignore it, my eyes going to Candy as she bends over and flashes me her bare ass.

But then it rings again.

Something feels off.

One thing about me? I always trust my gut instinct.

Glancing at the screen, it’s from an unknown number, so I pick up. “Yeah?”

“Hunter?”

I freeze, pulling on Rose’s hair to push her off me.

There’s only one person who calls me that name, and I haven’t heard it in years.

“Lore? What the hell,” Rose snaps, sitting back on her knees and scowling.

“Atiana?” I whisper, grabbing my phone with both hands. The whole world around me disappears. I don’t hear the music playing, nor do I see the two other women in the room. All the noise in my head suddenly stops.

I purposely never changed my phone number throughout the years, just in case she ever needed me, but after seven long years, I’d given up on that ever happening.

Atiana hated me.

So, if she’s calling me, it means that something is really wrong.

Her whimper makes me want to murder someone. “I need your help.”

Standing up, I slide up my jeans and walk out of the room. “Tell me where you are. I’m on my way.”

No questions.

I’d ride straight into hell if she needed me to.

She rattles off the address, about an hour from the clubhouse. “Find somewhere safe and hide for me.”

“Okay,” she rasps. “Please, hurry. Before he comes back.”