She was good. So good that Lucy stopped and just listened. She hadn’t slowed down since the night with Ryan. She’d been in overdrive, body and mind, because there was so much to do, so much to fix, to forget, to fight for. Here she hit pause. Listened. Breathed. Disappeared. When the music stopped, Lucy opened her eyes. And met Emma’s.

And the pause was over.

“Hey,” Emma said. “Thanks for meeting me here.” She stood, set her guitar on the chair, and walked to Lucy and Maddie.

“Sure, course,” Lucy said. “This place is . . .”

“A dump. But it’s one of the few that’ll let me play.”

“Because of your Pulse,” Lucy said.

“Most venues don’t care about anything else when they book you. I could show them a million followers on Twitter or Instagram and still they’d only look at Pulse.”

“That sucks,” Maddie said. “Nothing should have that much power.”

Emma pushed her dark hair over her shoulder, revealing a newly dyed blue streak. “Was okay when I was at the top though. I’m a hypocrite if I say otherwise.”

“Is that why you didn’t write back until now?” Lucy said.

Emma shrugged.

Lucy felt Maddie’s eyes on her. She hadn’t told her or Delia that she’d reached out to Emma. Because if they asked why, Lucy didn’t have an answer. She wasn’t sure what she wanted from Emma. Not until this moment.

Here in this toilet bowl of a club that Emma was in because of Ryan.

Here feeling his fingers pressing against her.

Here brimming with fear of where they’d go next, how she’d stop it, what she’d do if she couldn’t.

Here because Ryan Thompson assaulted her.

And people had to know.

Lucy studied Emma’s stoic face. Her pulse rapped against her veins like her body was demanding her attention, but it was her mind that was in control, and her body would just have to find a way to deal with it.

“I understand why you might not want to be reminded of ValleyStart. Why I might not be the person you’d want to talk to if you did. We weren’t really friends. I’m not even sure what we’d have in common if we tried to be.” She stepped closer. “Except for one thing.”

Emma looked Lucy straight in the eye, took a deep inhale, and said, “Ryan.”

“Freaking Ryan Thompson.”

*   *   *

“I thought it was harmless at first,” Emma said. “I totally knew he was one of those dudes looking to get off on being around the beautiful and the famous. I may not be in the music industry yet, but I know what to look for. And Ryan Thompson all but had a siren rotating on his head. But, see, well, the thing is . . . I’m not in the music industry yet. And he is Ryan Thompson.”