Page 144 of Fractured Frets

We were moving onto bigger and better things.

But one thing was certain . . . I hadn’t felt sure until now.

Although I needed time away, these guys were part of my soul. Music was a huge part of our life. We needed that more than we needed oxygen. We needed music to survive.

I kissed Maddy on the cheek, then drew in a shaky breath and met each of the guys’ gazes. “But I promise you this, guys...I will be back. We will record again. We will tour again. We are, and will always be, The Flintlocks.”

Everyone hollered, “Fuck yeah!”

After loading our gear into the Suburban, I gave the guys one last wave, then slipped into the back seat with Maddy. As Beckett drove us away, and I held Maddy’s hand, I glanced out the rear window. The guys stood on my front step. They each held a hand over their heart, stretched out their other arm, and pointed toward us.

Fuck yeah. We were The Flintlocks.

We would rock on forever.

But for now . . . it was goodbye.

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