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her connection with Rhys, willing him to taste what she did, smell what she did, to savor what she was.
    Oh. My. Fucking. God. That tastes awesome! Jesus, Addison. How are you doing this?
    She was so pleased with herself, she nearly lost the link. “Let me tell you, it’s not easy.” Fries. Ooohh…you have to eat some fries. Give it to me, baby!
    Her laughter came straight up from her gut and she nearly choked on her food. “Rhys, you are killing me. It’s just food.” She glanced at the computer screen, to the search she had abandoned while relaying her senses to Rhys.
    What she saw snuffed out the humor she’d been feeling. And Rhys felt it.
    What is it? What do you see?
    She swallowed, then cleared her throat. He wasn’t going to like this. “The band issued a statement that they are delaying the recording of their next album…indefinitely.”

Chapter Six

    Addison’s brain actually hurt from Rhys’ rampage. He’d been going at it for a good twenty minutes.
    And the man sure loved the F-word.
    Son-of-a-fucking-bitch! After everything we went through; every goddamn month, day, hour, minute of fighting for every fucking ounce of success we’ve got, and he just tosses it aside.
    Washes his hands of it all and bolts. And the rest of the guys…? How the hell are they letting him?! Grow a fucking backbone you bunch of spineless shitheads! They’ve got just as much to lose as he does and they just step aside? Fuck. That. He can’t do this! Don’t you understand?
    Are you hearing me?! He’s fucking everything up!
    His voice resonated within as his words finally cut off.
    Laying her head down on folded arms, she reveled in the ensuing silence. For a moment she half-wondered if he had raged himself into oblivion, but the underlying vibration of tension told her otherwise; he was holding their connection closed. But barely. It seemed high emotions made it more difficult.
    She didn’t know how long it was before she felt a reprieve; as if Rhys had had a death grip on her brain and was slowly peeling back his fingers. Until that moment, she hadn’t been aware of just how much pressure she’d felt in her head. Now that it was gone, a fresh wave of relief hit her.
    You have to email him.
    Keeping her head down, eyes closed, she mumbled, “Email who, exactly?” She knew the answer, but wanted to know if he’d have the nerve to say it.
    Xavier.
    And apparently he did.
    “Are you on crack?”
    No. But if I had been, I bet I’d be going through helluva withdrawal right now. And wouldn’t that just suck ass for you? Ha!
    “Uh uh. You are not humoring or charming me into this one. We already talked about this and you agreed.”

    Addison, listen to me. Black Codex is his life. He’s already lost me. Don’t make him lose that too.
    “Oh, no you don’t, you asshat!” The roar from her headache forced her to lower her voice, but her insistence remained. “You are not putting this on me. I didn’t do one damn thing to you or your brother.”
    I know. You’re right. But hear me out, okay? If the band doesn’t fucking exist anymore, then neither will he. It would kill him. Shit, it would be worse than death; he would be in the middle of a fucking living, breathing non-existence. His own goddamned purgatory.
    He was already in his own purgatory. She knew that for certain. A black chasm that would take him years to claw his way out of, just like she had to do after her parents died. And the hell if she was going to be the one to screw with the man when he was already down.
    The mere thought of someone sending her an email like this when she’d been suffocating under all that grief… Not only would she have not believed them (thusly doing them no good), it would have sent her flying over the edge. Permanently.
    She finally lifted her head and shut her computer off. As she gathered her things—ditching the idea of paperwork—she contemplated her response.
    “You need to think of another way.”
    There is no