Read Online My Heart's Blood (Hard Love & Dark Rock #1) by Ashley Grace - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ashley Grace
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loveseat, Bernstein sitting next to her, the rest of us standing around them. He held her slender hand in both of his, the thickness of his fingers and the hairiness of his knuckles making Sara's hand look like a child's in comparison.
"Micah, could you get a glass of Sara's Oolong Kombucha for me, please," Bernstein said. "Sergio, maybe a wet paper towel from the bathroom?"
That left just the two of them on the loveseat, and Joey and me standing nearby. I wondered for a moment if that was by design—Bernstein had always been a master at steering events in the direction he thought best.
"Okay, ketzileh ," he said, his voice gentle. "Let's hear it. What's wrong?"
Sara's hands weren't covering her face any longer, and she'd stopped sobbing, but the tears kept running from her eyes, smearing down over her cheeks.
She shook her head a little. "You know what's wrong," she said, in a very small voice. "I miss her. And every time I see him," she darted her eyes in my direction, "it makes it worse."
I felt an awful sinking feeling in my chest, as if my heart were dropping into my stomach. I pulled in a breath and tried to focus on dull numbness, clinging to it like a security blanket.
"You're talking about Lucy," Bernstein said.
"Who else would I be talking about!" Her hand pulled against Bernstein's grip. "Who?"
"No need to get excited. I just wanted to be clear."
"Yes, I'm talking about Lucy! I'm talking about my sister, who died of an overdose in Trace's arms! My baby sister, who serves as the inspiration for all of these miserable, depressing new songs we're playing. I'm talking about Lucy!"
A fresh wail spilled out of her throat, her eyes squeezing shut and tears racing down her face. I felt the sorrow in that wail, beneath my blanket of numbness. It seemed to echo inside of me.
Bernstein patted her hand, still holding it between both of his.
"I know you miss her," he said. "You're not the only one who does. Lucy's death has hurt all of us."
Sergio came back with a wet paper towel. Bernstein took it, nodding his head in thanks. Gently, he wiped her face, talking while he did it.
"Lucy's death was a tragedy," he said. "But dwelling on tragedy doesn't cure it. It just prolongs it."
He put a finger under her chin, lifted her face to look in her eyes.
"You know Lucy wouldn't have wanted this. You know it, Sara. She wouldn't have wanted you or Trace or any of us to dwell on sorrow in her name. She loved the band. She loved the music you guys make."
Micah came back to the loveseat, handing a full glass to Sara. She took the glass and sipped from it.
"And tonight, tonight you guys were there, " Bernstein said. "You sounded tighter and stronger and purer than you've sounded in years."
He looked up at us.
"Isn't that right, Joey?"
"Well, yeah!" Joey said. "We were kicking ass out there!"
"You were kicking ass out there. I felt it. Everybody here in this building tonight felt it. It was one of those nights when the music just possesses the band, when you're channeling pure emotion for the crowd. Lucy would have loved it."
Sara squeezed her eyes shut once more. But Bernstein didn't back away from it. He carried on, willing us to face it.
"Lucy's life ended, and too soon. But dwelling on her death, and letting it kill the band—that's the last thing she'd want.”
He turned back to Sara, his hand on her shoulder, his face near hers, looking into her eyes.
"I'm not asking you to forget about Lucy, but I am asking you, I'm begging you, to not forget about the band."
Chapter 15
Anne
"Did you see the way Trace was looking at you?" Becca said. "He was totally checking you out!"
I felt a rush of excitement. "Do you think so? Really?"
"Totally! From the very first song. And on all the other songs too, or at least on the sexier ones. It's like he was singing directly to you!"
"No way."
"Yes way! Yes-freaking-way! I
"Micah, could you get a glass of Sara's Oolong Kombucha for me, please," Bernstein said. "Sergio, maybe a wet paper towel from the bathroom?"
That left just the two of them on the loveseat, and Joey and me standing nearby. I wondered for a moment if that was by design—Bernstein had always been a master at steering events in the direction he thought best.
"Okay, ketzileh ," he said, his voice gentle. "Let's hear it. What's wrong?"
Sara's hands weren't covering her face any longer, and she'd stopped sobbing, but the tears kept running from her eyes, smearing down over her cheeks.
She shook her head a little. "You know what's wrong," she said, in a very small voice. "I miss her. And every time I see him," she darted her eyes in my direction, "it makes it worse."
I felt an awful sinking feeling in my chest, as if my heart were dropping into my stomach. I pulled in a breath and tried to focus on dull numbness, clinging to it like a security blanket.
"You're talking about Lucy," Bernstein said.
"Who else would I be talking about!" Her hand pulled against Bernstein's grip. "Who?"
"No need to get excited. I just wanted to be clear."
"Yes, I'm talking about Lucy! I'm talking about my sister, who died of an overdose in Trace's arms! My baby sister, who serves as the inspiration for all of these miserable, depressing new songs we're playing. I'm talking about Lucy!"
A fresh wail spilled out of her throat, her eyes squeezing shut and tears racing down her face. I felt the sorrow in that wail, beneath my blanket of numbness. It seemed to echo inside of me.
Bernstein patted her hand, still holding it between both of his.
"I know you miss her," he said. "You're not the only one who does. Lucy's death has hurt all of us."
Sergio came back with a wet paper towel. Bernstein took it, nodding his head in thanks. Gently, he wiped her face, talking while he did it.
"Lucy's death was a tragedy," he said. "But dwelling on tragedy doesn't cure it. It just prolongs it."
He put a finger under her chin, lifted her face to look in her eyes.
"You know Lucy wouldn't have wanted this. You know it, Sara. She wouldn't have wanted you or Trace or any of us to dwell on sorrow in her name. She loved the band. She loved the music you guys make."
Micah came back to the loveseat, handing a full glass to Sara. She took the glass and sipped from it.
"And tonight, tonight you guys were there, " Bernstein said. "You sounded tighter and stronger and purer than you've sounded in years."
He looked up at us.
"Isn't that right, Joey?"
"Well, yeah!" Joey said. "We were kicking ass out there!"
"You were kicking ass out there. I felt it. Everybody here in this building tonight felt it. It was one of those nights when the music just possesses the band, when you're channeling pure emotion for the crowd. Lucy would have loved it."
Sara squeezed her eyes shut once more. But Bernstein didn't back away from it. He carried on, willing us to face it.
"Lucy's life ended, and too soon. But dwelling on her death, and letting it kill the band—that's the last thing she'd want.”
He turned back to Sara, his hand on her shoulder, his face near hers, looking into her eyes.
"I'm not asking you to forget about Lucy, but I am asking you, I'm begging you, to not forget about the band."
Chapter 15
Anne
"Did you see the way Trace was looking at you?" Becca said. "He was totally checking you out!"
I felt a rush of excitement. "Do you think so? Really?"
"Totally! From the very first song. And on all the other songs too, or at least on the sexier ones. It's like he was singing directly to you!"
"No way."
"Yes way! Yes-freaking-way! I
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