Page 50 of Hard Rock Deceit

Slowly, he turned around in the chair, facing me. I kept my hands resting lightly on his shoulders. When his eyes met mine, I saw they were fullofpain.

"It almost destroyed me," he admitted. "Especially the way ithappened."

"How did it happen?" I askedsoftly.

Spreading his knees, he tugged me to come stand between them, his forehead resting against mystomach.

"I was arguing with my parents. Something stupid, I don't even remember. I was always so stubborn. My dad turned around in his seat. He didn't see the other car coming. Didn't have time to swerve away. They got hitheadon."

I hugged him tight, pressing my cheek to the crown of his blond head. August inhaled a slow breath before continuing tospeak.

"I couldn't get over the guilt for a long time. I blamed myself for their deaths. But the worst was the rageIfelt."

He tilted his head up to meet my eyes. There was no sign of the anger he spoke about. Only sorrow,regret.

"It was a drunk driver. It wasn't his first time either. He'd been driving on a suspended license. He shouldn't have been ontheroad."

August squeezed his eyesclosed.

"I was so angry. I hated that man for taking away my parents. I wanted him to suffer, like they had suffered, stuck in the twisted metal of a car, broken bones, punctured organs, bleeding out until their bodies finally gave up. I wanted him tofeelthat."

My heart was heavy in my chest, aching for August. I'd never experienced something as horrible as he had. I couldn't imagine going through it and comingoutokay.

"I put all that guilt and anger and hate into my music. I didn't try to suppress it. I let it out. I let it overtake me, let it consume me, and used it to fuelmyart."

"And that helped?" I askedsoftly.

"Not at first. But eventually, slowly, the rage lessened. The guilt eased. Not completely, but enough. Enough that I could live with it. I don't know who I'd be without the music. I don't know what I'd do without it. It made me what I am. It continues to shape me tothisday."

I could imagine it. A young August, railing against the world, misery and hatred balled up inside, turning him bitter and harsh. It so easily could have beenthatway.

But he'd found a way to cope. He'd not only found a way to make it through, but to thrive, despite all the pain. His music hadsavedhim.

Under my hands, August's shoulders were still tense. I squeezed themgently.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I shouldn't have bought up all these badmemories."

He shook his head and placed his handsonmine.

"It's only fair. I managed to guess so much about you. I want you to know about me. Aboutmypast."

And what about your future?I thought.Do I have a placethere?

I shouldn't have been thinking things like that. It was too soon.Toodeep.

But when August collapsed onstage…

When he hit the ground so hard, unresponsive, lips turning blue, barelybreathing…

My heart nearly gave out. My lungs crumpled in my chest. I wanted to scream and scream andneverstop.

I thought I'd known fearbefore.

Now I knew was true terrorfeltlike.

"Hey."

I blinked as August cupped my cheek, bringing me back to thepresent.