Page 75 of Ravaged By Lust

“There is something I need to say, Chloe.”

I put my piece of toast down.

“Uh, oh. This doesn’t sound good.”

“No, it’s nothing. Although it is a bit weird for a brother, especially one like me to be saying this, but I want to remind you that I chose to forgive Bishop.”

“What are you saying?”

“What happened between him and me… it could have ruined things. It could have ruined Ravaged before it even began, but I chose not to allow it to. You understand? I forgave him for… sleeping around with my sister behind my back. And it was hard, but it needed to be done.”

“Axel…”

“Please listen, Chloe. I want to tell you this. I know his actions towards you were worse, but sometimes you have to forgive so you can move on. Stop punishing yourself, Chloe. Don’t let the love of your life go because of some grudge from seven years ago. I can see that you’re hung up on it. On him. But life’s too short to spend your best years hating on someone you love for a stupid mistake they once made.”

“Has Bishop put you up for this?” I ask my brother sternly.

“No. He doesn’t know a thing. He’ll never want me talking to you like this, and I gotta admit it’s awkward as hell for me. But Chloe, Bishop loves you. You know that, right?”

I close my eyes. “I do know,” I reply softly.

He told me last night.

“You wouldn’t be so angry with him if you didn’t care so much,” my brother adds. “God, you are as stubborn as I am, aren’t you?”

He knows me too freaking well.

I say my goodbyes and hang up the phone before sitting down and letting out my second sigh of the morning.

Damn it, Axel.

I know it, even if I hate the truth. My brother is right.

33

CHLOE

I am standing in front of Mickey Miller and a room full of his top executives…

And I’m choking up.

Just as I predicted I would, I cannot perform. Words can’t escape my lips. My hands shake as I apprehensively grip my guitar against my chest.

I’m in the boardroom at the bigshot producer’s office. They’ve made one side of the room into a makeshift stage, pushing back the boardroom table to give me space to stand in front of twenty or so of Mickey Miller’s executives and the man himself in the front row.

Oh God.

But they shouldn’t have bothered doing a thing.

Because I can’t play a single note.

And they’re all looking at me.

Judging me.

Just as it happened seven years ago in front of the entire school.

No, no, no.