The Rocker's Muse

“You don’t look thirty-eight. I would’ve guessed, like, thirty.”

“What did you study at Nevada State? Blowing smoke up people’s asses?” He winked.

I laughed. “It’s true. You look younger. But I majored in communications.”

“Nice.”

I shrugged. “Well, it’s been challenging finding a job with such a broad degree.”

“You’re in a good position,” he assured me. “I envy you.”

“Envy me?” I drew my brows in. “Why?”

“You’re a blank slate with your whole life ahead of you. Some days I wish I could go back and start over.”

“Why would you want to do that? You’re a huge star. If you did even one thing differently, you might not be where you are today.”

“Where I am today isn’t all it’s chalked up to be.” He sighed. “Don’t get me wrong—I’m very grateful for it all. But there’s always a price to pay for fame. Like giving up your privacy.”

“Yeah. I’m seeing that. You guys can’t go anywhere without being mobbed.”

“You clearly don’t give a shit who I am, though. I need that sometimes.” He smiled. “Your innocence is refreshing, Emily.”

Innocence? “I may be young. But I’m not innocent.” I scoffed.

“I don’t believe you. I can see it in your eyes. You’re innocent as hell.”

“You’re not a good reader of people, then.”

Tristan crossed his arms. “Tell me the worst thing you’ve done, and I’ll believe you.”

No one had ever asked me such a direct question before. And something about looking into this man’s eyes made me want to answer honestly.

So I did. “I killed someone.”

CHAPTER 4

TRISTAN

I blinked. “You…killed someone.”

She muttered something and shook her head, looking down at her feet. “I can’t believe I told you that.”

“Well, I asked, and you certainly delivered. But I do think it warrants an explanation. That’s not the kind of thing you blurt out without further details, you know?”

She finally looked up at me. “I killed my mother’s boyfriend—accidentally. It was in self-defense. Or rather, in defense of my mother.”

Shit. I swallowed. “What happened? I mean, leading up to it?”

“I’d come home early from school. Walked into the house and found him choking her. She was gasping for air. I pleaded with him to let her go, and he wouldn’t. I was sure he was going to kill her.” She took a deep breath. “I grabbed a bat from my brother’s bedroom and knocked him over the head with it. I didn’t mean to kill him. But apparently, I hit some spot on the back of his head…” Her words trailed off.

“When did this happen?” I asked softly.

“My senior year in high school. So a little over four years ago.”

“Holy fucking shit. That’s a lot to go through.” I shook my head. “Are you okay? I mean, mentally?”

“Not really.” She looked down at her feet again. “I still feel guilty about it. And I have a savior complex sometimes. Any chance I get to help someone, I take it. You witnessed a bit of it tonight. I think I feel like I have to do good deeds to make up for the horrible thing I did.” She closed her eyes briefly. “Henry, my mother’s boyfriend, was an asshole. But he had kids. They no longer have a father. Even if he was a terrible person, I took him away from them. They didn’t deserve that.”