Chapter 4

They didn't take me to a hospital. They didn't take me to jail. The next morning, two of Sabrina's burly stagehands moved me from the clinic. They drove me back to the juke joint, but not inside. They threw me into a filthy, rat-infested shed out back, on a pile of damp, foul-smelling rags.

My hands were useless, throbbing masses of pain. I was helpless.

The shed door creaked open a day later. Caleb stood there, silhouetted against the bright afternoon sun. He was wearing one of my old stage shirts.

"Look at you," he sneered, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "The great Ethan Lester. The prodigy. Not so special now, are you?"

He stepped inside, kicking aside an empty can. "Jennifer feels so bad for you. So does Mom. They think this is all so tragic." He laughed, a short, ugly sound. "But me? I think it's perfect. I have your music. I have your woman. I have your life."

My whole body trembled with a rage I couldn't express. I tried to push myself up, to lunge at him, but I was too weak.

Caleb saw the fire in my eyes and his smirk widened. He picked up a bucket of dirty rainwater from the corner of the shed. "You know, you still look a little too defiant for a broken man."

He then did something bizarre. He poured the water all over his own clothes, drenching himself. He messed up his hair, tore his shirt collar. Then he started screaming.

"Help! Somebody help! He's trying to attack me! He's crazy!"

The shed door flew open. Jennifer and Sabrina rushed in, their faces masks of alarm. They saw Caleb, soaking wet and feigning terror, and then they looked at me, lying helpless on the floor.

"Ethan! How could you?" Jennifer shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at me.

Sabrina's face hardened into a cold, cruel mask. "I see now," she said, her voice like ice. "The doctors were right. You are dangerously unstable. You're a threat to my son."

She turned to the two enforcers who had followed her in. "He can't be allowed to hurt anyone else. Protect Caleb. Make sure he can't get up again."

I knew what was coming. I tried to scramble backward, but there was nowhere to go. The two men grabbed my legs. I heard Sabrina's voice, cold and final.

"Break them."

A steel pipe slammed into my left shin. The bone snapped with a sound like a dry branch breaking. The pain was blinding, nauseating. They didn't stop. They shattered my right leg, then my ankles. They left me a broken heap on the filthy floor, unable to move, unable to do anything but drown in agony.

On the day of the engagement party, I could hear the music and laughter from the juke joint. Howler, who had been sneaking in to bring me scraps of food, appeared at my side. He whined, nudging me, then grabbed the collar of my torn shirt and began to drag me, inch by painful inch, toward the door. He was trying to get me away.

But it was too late. The door swung open, and we were discovered.