Some hearts can be repaired. Others should just be totaled.
Carver always thought he could sense when Roman was on the verge of falling into his inner darkness. But this time, Carver misses those cues and leads the police on a high-speed race to the ER, praying his Barracuda won't die on the way.
When Roman awakens from the haze of painkillers and alcohol, he already knows the question poised on Carver's lips. Was it an accident, or did he deliberately dance on the edge of death? How can he tell Meep that lust and laughter are no longer enough to help him cope with the rapid changes among the Hot Rods?
Part of him is happy for them. The other part is pissed. Because what he's always wanted is Carver all to himself. Much as he loves his brother mechanics, sharing isn't his strong suit.
Roman needs time - and distance - to get his head on straight. The only question is, when Roman comes home from rehab, will Carver still love the man he has become, or will their roads have diverged too far to cross each other again?