Fox was the one who found Abe the next afternoon when the big keyboard player didn’t meet the rest of them for a late lunch in Fox and Molly’s suite. “I’ll go wake him,” he said with a grin. “Maybe I’ll use this ice cube to do it.” Plucking the cube from his otherwise empty orange juice glass, he wrapped it in a thick napkin.

Noah and David grinned, but with restraint. Both their heads had to be throbbing since it turned out that after Noah showed his women the door last night, he’d woken David up and talked him into another drink or five.

“The rock-and-roll life,” Molly said sweetly, “is not healthy for your livers.”

David groaned. “Fucking tequila. Never again.”

“You said that last time.”

“Shut up, you minion of evil.”

Noah splurted his coffee. “Minion of evil? Last night you were declaring your undying love.”

“I’m going to stab you in a second.”

“For the record, Molly,” Noah said, turning his attention to her, “we’ve been saints since we returned home. Saints. We didn’t want Fox’s girl to get the wrong impression about us.”

Rolling her eyes, Molly took pity on the two males and was pouring them fresh coffee when her cell phone rang. It was Fox. “Get in here, bring the others.” He hung up after that terse instruction, and she saw why when they reached Abe’s room.

The keyboardist was sprawled in his bed, reeking of alcohol, bottles strewn around him and the brunette from the club nowhere in evidence. This, Molly knew at once, was more than a few too many drinks. “He needs medical attention.” She’d seen her mother like this, the memory an ugliness under her skin.

“It’s on its way.” Fox’s jaw was a brutal line. “I called 911.”

Thinking past her instinctive anger, the rage an old one, and back to the first-aid course she’d attended during university, she said, “We have to turn him to his side, make sure he has a clear airway.” Abe had thrown up at some stage, that much was apparent, but he’d survived. They had to keep him that way until the paramedics arrived.

The men rolled Abe into the correct position while she checked to make sure his airway wasn’t obstructed. His breathing did seem to steady after the change in position, but it remained shallow, the normally rich mahogany of his skin pallid. “Has he done this before?”

“No. He drinks, but nothing more than the rest of us.” Noah’s fists were so tight his skin had gone bone white. “Cocaine was his problem, but he kicked the habit. He made it.”

Except it was clear to all of them that Abe had only switched addictions.

Five hours later, the keyboardist was conscious but in no state to get out of bed. “It was just a binge,” he said when the others confronted him in his private hospital room.

Molly had stayed outside the room, knowing this was something the four men needed to discuss alone, but she remained within earshot. Noah’s temper, from what she’d seen, was as hot as Fox’s. Abe wasn’t far behind. David was calmer, but he was furious today, white lines bracketing his mouth. If needed, she’d step in to defuse the situation before it got violent. None of the men were the type to raise a hand against a woman.

 “A binge?” Noah shouted. “You were almost in a coma!”

“Shit, lower your voice.” It was a groan.

“What the hell are you doing, Abe?” Fox asked through what sounded like clenched teeth. “You stopped snorting coke, so you’ll kill yourself this way instead?”

“What I do in my own fucking time is my own fucking business.”

“You want to go there?” David said, and he didn’t sound like the calm one at all. “You really want to say that when we might have to go onstage tomorrow without you?”

“I’ll be fine by then.”

“Have you looked at yourself?” Noah demanded. “Your hands are shaking and you can’t even get out of bed.”

“Get back in,” Fox said, then swore as there was a small crash. “Satisfied now? You can’t do anything but destroy cheap vases.”

Abe’s response was too low for Molly to hear, but she could guess what it had been from Fox’s response. “You don’t get to pick and choose when we’re your friends. We won’t let you do this to yourself or to us again. Choose, Abe.”

“What?”

“The band or the booze, the drugs, whatever shit you want to shovel into yourself.”

A stunned silence.

Abe was the first to find his voice and it was a roar. “You can’t kick me out!”

“You’re kicking yourself out! How many times do you expect us to do this? Wait to see if you wake up? Get ready to call your mom to tell her in case you don’t?” Fox’s voice vibrated with unhidden fury. “Enough, Abe. You either want to live or you don’t.”

“I’m not trying to commit suicide for Christ’s sake!”

“You think she’d want this?” came Noah’s voice. “For you to wallow in a pool of self-pity because boo-hoo-hoo it’s too damn hard to be alive? She fucking idolized you, man.”

A charged silence, secrets hovering in the air.

“Enough,” David said quietly. “We all need to cool off before we say things that can’t be forgiven. I will not lose who we are together because of this.” A grim silence. “Any objections?”

There were none, and the three men walked out a few minutes later. Noah strode past without spotting her. David nodded and was gone. Wrapping his arm around her, Fox called up the two bodyguards he’d told to wait downstairs. “Stay here,” he ordered them when they arrived. “Watch him—and check everything that goes in and out. I find out he had any booze or drugs in that room, I’ll have your heads.”

Nodding, the two muscle-bound men took up position on either side of the door.

Molly kept her silence as she and Fox left the hospital via a loading dock not covered by the media. Everyone was whispering drug overdose, and the band had decided to let that stand. Abe’s problem with cocaine was old news, would soon fade from the screens and papers if they didn’t feed the story.

Given Fox’s mood, Molly didn’t think anything of it when he ignored a smartly dressed woman in the hotel lobby who said “Zachary” and made as if to walk toward him, her expression faintly supercilious. The elevator arrived before she reached them, and Fox nudged Molly inside.

“She didn’t look like a groupie,” Molly said, simply to break the strained quiet.

Fox’s lips twisted in a humorless smile. “They all want something.” He didn’t speak again until they were back in their room. “You okay?” Knees slightly bent, he brought himself down to her eye level.

It startled her that he’d remembered her past even in his current frame of mind. “I had a couple of flashbacks,” she admitted. “I guess it’s something I need to learn to handle. This environment—”

“No.” Fox’s voice was harsh. “You do not need to get used to this shit because it will not happen again. And never with me. Got it?”

Molly nodded. “I wouldn’t have fallen for you if I didn’t believe that.” Not after seeing up close and personal the damage substance abuse could do, emotional and physical.

“Good.” A hard kiss before he spun away and grabbed his acoustic guitar.

She left him alone by the windows, having learned he worked out his emotions through music. It was over an hour later, when the music went silent, that she took him a cup of coffee. “You’d never really walk away from Abe, would you?” Molly was fighting her instinctive revulsion to addiction to be a friend to Abe and she’d only known him a short time; Fox had known him years. “He needs you more now than ever.”

 “I’m so angry with him, Molly. We worked so hard to get him clean—we never let him down. Not once.” He set the guitar aside, the coffee forgotten on a side table. “Every time he called, day or night, we were there. Noah’s the one who rode to the hospital with him last time, and David drove his mother there when the doctors weren’t sure if he’d ever wake up.”

Fox’s voice was jagged as he continued. “She’s this tiny, fragile thing, and she cried until I had to carry her out of the room, away from the sight of her son lying motionless on the bed.” He shook his head. “Abe’s sister died as a child, and that day, it was like she was reliving every instant of the agony.”

A deep breath. “No mother, she said, should have to watch both her children die.” Hands fisted, his eyes stormy. “After that, after the detox and the rehab, he promised her he’d stay clean. Then he goes and does this?” Pain combined with the fury. “I can’t watch him go down this road again.”

Molly understood in a way no one who hadn’t lived with an addict could. At some point, the emotional drain snapped something inside you. “The third time I found my mother in a pool of her own vomit,” she said, confessing a secret not even Charlotte knew, “I hesitated before calling an ambulance.” It had only been a matter of seconds, but Molly would never forget who she’d almost become as a result of her mother’s addiction.

The hesitation shamed her, but Molly had long since forgiven the worn-out and scared teenage girl who’d had to act the responsible adult at far too young an age. “I just couldn’t take the cycle of remorse and promises, the one or two days of normality before the inevitable slide back into the bottle.”

“Ah, baby.” Fox stood to wrap her in his arms, his cheek pressed against her temple. “It wears you down until you start to ask, what’s the fucking point?”

Molly nodded, tears choking up her throat. “With Abe, he can’t have been drinking all this time,” she said, soothing him with slow strokes of her hand down the rigid line of his spine. “Close as we have to travel together, we’d have noticed. You’d have noticed.”