Nah. That was just nerves talking. Much better to focus on my fingers gliding across the keys as I played Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue” than to work myself into a frenzy over nothing.
Hadn’t I sneaked out tonight for the thrill of pretending to play for a crowd of my own? Now I was freaking out about shadows.
Think about Coop. Just Coop.
A smile curved my mouth. He wasn’t a hardship to think about. No one could make me laugh like he did. Every now and then he called me “little redhead girl” after Charlie Brown’s crush. I didn’t even know where he’d picked that up, but he teased me with it when I poked at him about his love of peanut butter and banana sandwiches—gross—or his solitary ways to relax. He loved to go on long hikes anytime our bus was parked and we weren’t needed for band stuff. Mostly because I wanted to hike with him. Silence between us was so easy and natural.
Or it had been before.
Things between us had been strained since Lila told us about the threatening letter she’d received at home and a little—very little—about my aggressive ex had come out. Coop had been hurt I hadn’t gone to confession about my past relationship, but I hated talking about Pat. Or thinking about him. I also didn’t like remembering the woman I’d been then.
And worse, wondering if I could become her again with someone else.
I’d been so shocked Lila had found out about Pat that only fragments of the ominous letter remained in my memory. Someone had a score to settle with Ripper Records, and that meant we were in the crosshairs as much as anyone else since we were in the middle of a big cross-country tour.
Lindsey, our lead singer and one of the de facto leaders of the band, hadn’t wanted to cancel any dates, never mind the tour itself. Why would she? We were selling out venues left and right. If we didn’t meet our commitments, our crew and all the various people part of the Brooklyn Dawn juggernaut would be out of a job for however long this threat remained. Not to mention disappointing the fans.
Nope, the show must go on. Period. As a band, we all agreed on that.
But doing shows and even innocuous stuff like riding in style in our tricked out tour buses wasn’t the same right now. Nothing was. Not when we had bodyguards lurking around us at every turn when we were on the road.
And it wasn’t just us. We were on a double header ticket with Warning Sign, Ricki’s band, and they had the same deal. As would Oblivion when their world tour began later in the year, along with some of Ripper’s other larger acts. Lila’s husband Nick was a guitarist in Oblivion, and the letter had been delivered to their home, so naturally, Oblivion would get a lion’s share of the security budget. Their bodyguards probably would have bodyguards by the time their planes were wheels up.
So much of our world was in flux right now. I didn’t doubt the nameless specter hanging over our heads had something to do with my recent inability to sleep. I could only blame the full moon for my insomnia so many days of the month.
I stumbled over the keys, losing my place. I blew out a breath and tipped my head back, focusing on the few lights still on above the stage until they swam and shimmered.
Keep it together.
With effort, I shifted my gaze toward the main section of the club and imagined fans filling the seats, standing behind the booths, lining up along the bar. I willed my fingers to play the opening notes of one of Brooklyn Dawn’s biggest hits to date, “No Escape.”
Almost without realizing it, I began to sing along with the music, strengthening my voice as it faltered. As it wobbled and caught. But I kept going. This particular song was difficult for me. Too much of my past was held prisoner in lyrics and a melody I hadn’t written yet felt down to my marrow.
he told me he was poison
I didn't listen
he swore he was no good
but I saw only stars
in his eyes
in my heart
I got off on the lust
and the need
oh, how he needed me
it was hard to see
that the stars were blinding me
cracks in the sidewalk
make me fall
poison in my blood
taste it all
but i know when you call again
there’s no escape
no escape for me
A sharp, high-pitched sound like feedback screeched through the empty club, and I jumped, banging on the keys.
I almost took a header off the damn bench, just as I had at Ricki’s engagement party. I’d met Noah that night. He’d helped me up and carried me out of there like a white knight. Of course I’d developed a little hero worship toward him. A little crush.
No one to help you now.
Breathing hard, nearly panting from panic, I gripped the edge of the bench and ducked my head as if I could make myself small enough to avoid detection.
Just an equipment malfunction. Maybe you imagined it. It might just be—
My cell phone blared shrilly in the pocket of my thin jacket. I swallowed a whimper as I fumbled for it, dragging it into my lap to make the noise stop.
The name on the readout made my hand shake.
Patrick Krell.
What were the chances he’d call me when I’d been thinking about him on and off all night? I didn’t know why. We hadn’t talked since… God, I didn’t even know. They’d never found him to serve the restraining order I’d put in place after the break-in. In time, it had expired. I hadn’t heard from him in years so I hadn’t sought to get it renewed.
Now I was trembling, unsure what the hell to do, and he was on my phone.
I dismissed the call and forced myself to take a steadying breath. Then another. I shoved my phone in my
