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his drumsticks together, and we all begin the first song in our set.

As I play, every idea she put in my head slips out of my mind. The music becomes my doctor and my therapy to calm my frustration. After we make it through the first song, my adrenaline is flowing, and I’m feeling alive again.

On the third song, I trip up on a chord but skip right over it, hoping no one noticed. By the third time I mess up, I stop completely, not able to hold the strings down with the way my hand is trembling suddenly.

They all stop playing but stay silent, giving me my time to work through whatever is going on in my head. The problem is, I don’t know what’s going on. I’ve ignored it, fought the idea that something is wrong. That’s why I got so mad when Justine mentioned it. I felt if I ignored it, nothing was wrong. Hearing someone else say they’d noticed what I’d been dealing with was a punch in the gut. And one I didn’t want to take.

I clench my hand over and over again before removing my guitar from my neck and walking away from the guys, leaving the location completely. I know it’s fucked up and childish, the way I’m acting, but what am I supposed to say? Sorry, guys, I can’t grip my guitar strings. And, oh yeah, I’m also having all these other crazy things happening that I don’t understand, and I just can’t hide it anymore.

“Fuck,” I scream and hit the steering wheel, knowing that even though I’m driving away from them, I can’t drive away from my problems.

My job. My music.

How can I make love to Justine if my hands are fucked up and my legs quake with spasms that have been coming and going for awhile but only getting worse?

I got mad at her because I knew what she was saying was right. Last night, as I made love to her, I kept seeing double. As much as I loved the sight of her underneath me, I knew something was wrong.

Blasting the radio, I try to forget everything that’s going on, but every song that plays does nothing to calm the rage, fear, frustration, and mostly, the unknown, in my head, so I turn it off completely and see if quiet will do the job.

As I drive toward the lake, I think about what’s been going on. It started as just little twinges I felt here and there, but I’d be lying to myself if I said it hasn’t gotten worse. It’s not just more frequent; it’s been in more places and even painful at times.

I know trying to ignore it isn’t the answer, but sometimes, when you know what’s wrong, it’s like your head plays tricks on you and makes everything seem worse. Mind over matter has worked for this long, and goddamn it, I was going to make it work forever.

I know Justine came to me with her research because she cares, but this is exactly what I was afraid of. You let someone in, and they pick you apart, good and bad. I’m around Beau at work and the guys in the band all the time. None of them have said shit even though I know they’ve noticed something’s up.

Yes, I’m being stubborn, not wanting to face what’s happening, but that’s my prerogative. It’s my life.

After I pull up to the lake, I kill the engine and head to the houseboat. Thankfully, no one’s really around, so I’m able to walk in peace and not have to pretend to be nice to anyone as they pass by.

Once on the boat, I grab a beer and sit on my back deck with a huff. With my head tilted back, I stare at the night sky that’s just starting to appear with the setting sun.

I open and close my hand that’s not holding the bottle, feeling the sensations run down my arm like pins and needles.

With a huff, I close my eyes, not wanting to come to terms with what’s happening.

Not yet anyway.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Justine

I couldn’t sleep last night. I texted Tucker once, but he never responded. Now, it’s almost two in the afternoon, and I still haven’t heard from him.

Out of all the days this could happen, of course it had to happen when I have my scheduled call with Adam and Sarah. When we set this date on the calendar, I was over-the-moon excited, and now, I know I’m going to have a hard time focusing. This is a big opportunity though, so I need to not think about why he’s not calling me back.

With both of my parents home, I decide my mom’s car is the best place for me to do the interview. I know it’s crazy, but there’s a reason you see all of those videos people post from their cars. It’s quiet and comfortable. What more could you ask for? Especially since I can hook my phone up to her stereo, so I have both hands free to take notes.

Once I’m settled in, I take a deep breath and pick up the phone to call Adam.

After a few rings, he answers, “Hello?”

“Hi, Adam. It’s Justine from Living Now.”

“Hey. Yeah, I have you on speaker.”

“Hello, Justine,” I hear a female voice say.

“Hi, Sarah. Thank you for taking the time to talk to me.”

“And I’m here too!” a little girl says.

I hear them both laugh.

“Do I get to speak with Cailin as well?” I ask.

“I hope that’s okay. We normally don’t have her on calls like this, but we thought since you knew Tucker, it would be fine,” Adam replies.

“Of course. Cailin, I’m honored to be your first interviewer.”

“She’s super excited,” Sarah says.

We spend the next hour talking about everything from how they met to where they are now. The fact that Adam—the lead singer of the biggest rock band around, called Devil’s Breed—was able to keep that he had a five-year-old daughter from the

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