16. Chapter 16 Damon

Chapter 16 Damon

T he silence in my penthouse was deafening. I sat at the grand piano, fingers hovering over the keys, but the music wouldn't come. Not without her.

Not without Phoenix.

It had been three weeks since she'd walked out of that studio, three weeks of hell. I'd called, texted, emailed. Sent flowers to every address I could find. Nothing. It was like she'd vanished into thin air, taking all the light and color from my world with her.

I reached for the bottle of Jack on the piano, muscle memory guiding it to my lips before I caught myself. With a snarl of frustration, I hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall, amber liquid seeping into the plush white carpet like blood.

"Fuck!" I roared, slamming my fists down on the keys. The discordant crash echoed through the empty space, a perfect accompaniment to the chaos in my head.

I couldn't do this. Couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't fucking function without her. Phoenix had become my anchor, my conscience. Without her steady presence, I was adrift, lost in a sea of temptation and self-loathing.

My gaze fell on the pile of crumpled papers littering the floor around the piano. Failed attempts at capturing even a fraction of what she meant to me. Poems, lyrics, desperate pleas scrawled in the dark hours of the night when sleep eluded me.

I picked up the nearest one, smoothing out the wrinkles with trembling hands:

"Flame-haired goddess, risen from ash, Your absence leaves my world black as pitch. I'm drowning in darkness, gasping for air, Reach out your hand, I'm lost without you there.

Phoenix, my love, my heart, my soul, Without you I'm broken, no longer whole. Come back to me, I'm on my knees, You're the only one who can set me free."

Christ, it was terrible.

Maudlin and overwrought, like some lovesick teenager's idea of poetry. But it was all I had, all I could offer her. The tattered remnants of my heart, laid bare on the page.

A pounding on the door jolted me from my brooding. I ignored it, having no interest in dealing with whatever groupie or paparazzo had managed to sneak past security. But the knocking persisted, growing more insistent with each passing second.

"Open up, asshole!" Zane's voice carried through the thick wood. "We know you're in there!"

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face.

The last thing I wanted was to deal with the guys right now. But I knew from experience that they wouldn't go away. Might as well get it over with.

I stumbled to the door, yanking it open with more force than necessary. "What?" I snarled.

Zane stood there, flanked by Ty and Jax. They pushed past me without waiting for an invitation, wrinkling their noses at the stench of stale booze and unwashed rockstar that permeated the air.

"Jesus, D," Ty muttered, taking in the wreck in my living room. "When's the last time you showered?"

I shrugged, not bothering to answer. Personal hygiene hadn't exactly been a priority lately.

Jax made a beeline for the kitchen, emerging moments later with a trash bag and a determined set to his jaw. He started gathering empty bottles and takeout containers, muttering under his breath about, "Fucking rock star prima donnas."

Zane, meanwhile, had zeroed in on the shattered remains of the Jack Daniels bottle. He raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of concern and disappointment. "Falling off the wagon, Cross?"

"Fuck off," I growled, collapsing onto the leather sofa. "I didn't drink it. Just... redecorated a bit."

He nodded, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "Good. That's... that's good, man."

An awkward silence fell, broken only by the rustle of Jax's trash bag and Ty's incessant fidgeting. I could feel their eyes on me, assessing, judging. It made my skin crawl.

"So," Ty said finally, a forced brightness in his tone. "Any word from Phoenix?"

The name was like a knife to the gut. I flinched, unable to hide the raw pain that lanced through me. "No," I bit out. "Nothing."

Ty and Jax exchanged a look, some unspoken communication passing between them. It was Jax who spoke next, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant.

"You know, it's funny you should mention Phoenix. We, uh... we might have some intel on her whereabouts."

My head snapped up, hope surging through me like a tidal wave. "What? How?"

Ty grinned, a wicked glint in his eye. "Let's just say Talia's been... chatty lately. Very chatty. And very, very generous with the video calls, if you know what I mean."

I didn't, and I didn't particularly care to. All that mattered was Phoenix. "Where is she?" I demanded, leaning forward. "Is she okay?"

"Whoa, easy there, tiger," Jax said, holding up his hands. "We don't know exactly where she is. Just that she and Talia are on some tropical vacation. Maldives, maybe? Or Bali? It was kind of hard to hear over all the... you know." He made a vague gesture that I chose not to interpret.

"Yeah," Ty chimed in, his grin widening. "Talia's got some... interesting ideas about what constitutes a good time. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. That girl is flexible in ways I didn't even know were possible."

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Jesus Christ, I don't need to hear this. Either of you. Any of this."

Zane cleared his throat, shooting the twins a quelling look. "The point is, Phoenix is okay. She's safe; she's with Talia. She's just... taking some time, I guess."

"Time," I echoed, the word tasting like ashes in my mouth. "Right. Because that's what you do when you love someone, right? You fuck off to a tropical paradise and leave them to rot."

The bitterness in my voice was too clear, filling the air like poison. I knew I was being unfair, knew that Phoenix had every right to walk away after what I'd done. But the pain, the longing... it was eating me alive.

"Maybe it's for the best," a new voice chimed in from the doorway. "A little distance might be exactly what you need right now. "

I whirled, disbelief and fury warring for dominance as I took in the figure leaning casually against the frame. Rafe fucking Vega, in all his designer-clad glory.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I snarled, surging to my feet. "How did you even get in?"

Rafe held up his hands, a placating gesture that did nothing to quell the rage boiling in my veins. "Easy, Cross. I come in peace."

"Bullshit," I spat. "You've never come in peace a day in your life. What do you want?"

He sighed, running a hand through his artfully tousled hair. "Believe it or not, I'm here to help. You look like shit, man. And from what I hear, you're this close to flushing your entire career down the toilet. Again."

The "again" hit me like a punch to the solar plexus. Memories flooded back, unbidden and unwelcome. Rafe and I, barely more than kids, playing dive bars and dreaming of making it big. The drugs, the women, the intoxicating rush of our first taste of fame.

And then...

"You promised," Rafe said softly, his eyes locked on mine. "You swore you'd never become one of those washed-up has-beens, more interested in chasing the high than making music. Remember?"

I remembered. God, did I remember. It had been after a particularly wild night, the kind that left us both bruised and hungover and questioning every life choice that had led us to that moment.

We'd made a pact, blood brothers style, to never let the lifestyle consume us. To always put the music first.

"What happened to us, man?" I asked, the fight draining out of me. "How did we end up here? "

Rafe's laugh was bitter, tinged with regret. "Life, I guess. Fame. Money. All the shit that comes with it. We both made choices, Cross. Some good, some... less so."

The room had gone silent, the other guys watching our exchange with wide eyes and slack jaws. I could practically see the wheels turning in their heads, trying to reconcile this version of Rafe - vulnerable, almost human - with the smarmy pop star they'd come to despise.

"Why now?" I asked, collapsing back onto the couch. "Why show up here, playing the concerned friend act? What's in it for you?"

Rafe shrugged, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Maybe I'm tired of the rivalry. Maybe I miss the days when we were just two punk kids with guitars and a dream. Or maybe..."

His expression turned serious, all traces of humor vanishing. "Maybe I don't want to watch another talented musician throw it all away for a fix."

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. I felt exposed, raw, like Rafe had peeled back my skin and laid all my demons bare for the world to see.

"I'm clean," I said, but the words rang hollow even to my own ears. "I haven't touched anything since... since Phoenix left."

Rafe's gaze was steady, unwavering. "And how long do you think that'll last? A week? A month? Until the next time you hit a rough patch and convince yourself that just one line won't hurt?"

I flinched, unable to meet his eyes. Because he was right, damn him. The cravings were there, always there, scratching at the back of my mind like a rabid animal.

It would be so easy to give in, to lose myself in chemical oblivion and forget, just for a little while, how much it hurt to breathe without her.

"I can't do this," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I can't... I don't know how to be me without her. Without the drugs. I don't know who I am anymore."

The admission cost me, ripped from somewhere deep in my chest where I'd buried all my fears and insecurities. But once the words were out, it was like a dam had broken.

Everything I'd been holding back, all the pain and confusion and self-loathing, came pouring out in a torrent.

"I fucked up," I choked out, tears burning behind my eyes. "I had everything - the girl, the career, the life I always dreamed of. And I threw it all away for what? A moment of weakness? A fucking baggie of cocaine?"

I looked up, meeting the concerned gazes of my bandmates, my brothers. "I don't know how to fix this. I don't know if I can."

The silence that followed was deafening. I waited for judgment, for condemnation. For them to walk out and leave me to my misery, just like everyone else had.

But then Zane was there, his hand a warm, steady weight on my shoulder. "You're not alone in this, D," he said softly. "We've got your back. Always have, always will."

Ty and Jax nodded in agreement, their usual joking demeanor replaced by something fiercer, more protective. "We're family, man," Ty said. "Through thick and thin, remember?"

Even Rafe looked affected, his cocky facade cracking to reveal a glimpse of the friend I'd once known.

"You've got this, Cross," he said, his voice gruff. "You're stronger than the addiction. Stronger than the demons in your head. You just... you gotta believe it."

I nodded, overwhelmed by the show of support. It wasn't a fix, wasn't going to magically erase all the damage I'd done or bring Phoenix back to me. But it was a start. A lifeline, thrown into the stormy sea of my fucked-up life.

"So what now?" I asked, scrubbing a hand across my face. "Where do we go from here?"

Jax cleared his throat, an excited gleam in his eye that I recognized all too well. It was the look he got right before he came up with some harebrained scheme that would either make us millions or land us all in jail.

"Well," he said, a sly grin spreading across his face. "I might have an idea about that. You mentioned Marcus Wade earlier, right? The guy Phoenix has been looking for?"

I nodded, not sure where he was going with this. "Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?"

Jax's grin widened, taking on a distinctly feral edge. "What if I told you I could find him? Like, actually find him, not just some wild goose chase based on decade-old rumors."

I stared at him, hope and disbelief warring in my chest. "How?" I demanded. "We've been looking for months, Jax. Phoenix has connections all over the city, and she couldn't track him down. What makes you think you can?"

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance even as excitement radiated off him in waves. "Let's just say I've got some... skills that might come in handy. Skills that aren't exactly public knowledge, if you catch my drift."

Ty snorted, elbowing his twin in the ribs. "What Jax is trying to say, in his incredibly subtle way, is that he's a fucking tech wizard. Like, borderline-illegal levels of computer genius."

I blinked, struggling to reconcile this new information with the Jax I'd known for years.

The guy who could barely work his own phone without calling tech support. The guy who once spent three hours trying to figure out how to change his Facebook profile picture.

"You're shitting me," I said flatly. "There's no way."

Jax's expression turned indignant. "Hey, these fingers weren't just made for shredding, you know. I've got mad skills with a keyboard. All kinds of keyboards."

I looked to Zane for confirmation, still not quite believing it.

He nodded, a rueful smile playing at his lips. "It's true. Our boy's been holding out on us all these years. Turns out he's a regular little hacker prodigy."

"Jesus Christ," I muttered, shaking my head. "Is there anything else I should know? Is Ty secretly a rocket scientist or something?"

Ty grinned, waggling his eyebrows. "Nah, man. I'm just the pretty one. Gotta have a balanced skill set in the family, you know?"

Despite everything, I felt a laugh bubbling up in my chest. It was rusty, unpracticed, but it felt good. Like maybe, just maybe, things weren't as hopeless as they seemed.

"Okay," I said, straightening up and running a hand through my tangled hair. "Okay. So what do you need, Jax? To find Marcus?"

His eyes lit up, practically vibrating with excitement. "Just some time alone with my rig and a steady supply of energy drinks and pizza. Oh, and maybe some of those little chocolatey snack cakes? You know, the ones with the cream filling?"

I nodded, already reaching for my phone to place the order. "Done. Whatever you need, man. Just... find him. Please."

Jax's expression softened, understanding and determination etched in every line. "I got you, bro. We're gonna figure this out, I promise."

As he disappeared into the spare room that would serve as his command center for the foreseeable future, I felt something shift inside me. A spark of hope, fragile but undeniable, flickering to life in the darkness that had consumed me for so long.

I turned to the others, a sense of purpose straightening my spine and squaring my shoulders.

"Alright," I said, my voice stronger than it had been in weeks. "While Jax does his thing, we've got work to do. I want to be ready when he comes through. I want... I want to be better. For Phoenix. For myself."

Zane nodded, a proud smile lighting up his face. "That's what I'm talking about. What's the plan, boss?"

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the road ahead. It wouldn't be easy. Nothing worth having ever was. But with my brothers by my side, with the memory of Phoenix's love spurring me on... I knew I could do it.

"First things first," I said, grimacing as I caught a whiff of myself. "I need a shower. And then... then we're going to make some fucking music."

As I headed for the bathroom, already humming the beginnings of a new melody, I felt the weight on my chest ease just a fraction. The path ahead was still long, still fraught with obstacles and temptations.

But for the first time in weeks, I felt like I could breathe again.