“You see all those people?” Lucie asks with more excitement in her voice than I’ve heard from her and slaps Stokes’s thigh. “We’re really doing this.”
“Is this your biggest crowd yet?” I ask.
Stokes tilts his head to the side. “Could be.”
As Royal parks the van around the back, my cell phone vibrates in my purse again.
A message from Taylor. Can’t make your show tonight. Maybe next time.
Deflated, I toss the phone in my purse and get out with them. I guess it was too last-minute. An encore of the other night wouldn’t have been out of the question if he showed, and it would have been nice to have his support. A kind, familiar face in the big crowd.
We hop out of the van and I follow them through the dark, packed back lot, glancing over my shoulder, looking for a black car with tinted windows.
There’s one up ahead.
I stay close to Stokes, my heart pounding. As we walk by it and I spot another one row over. I never got a good look at what kind of car it was. I guess Carol didn’t either.
A deep chill shakes me to my core. I fold my arms across my chest, hugging myself as we approach the back door.
It could have followed me here—it could be any one of those cars.
Chapter 15
I lock the doors and try to hide.
Stokes opens a heavy metal door and leads us down a short, damp hallway lit with fluorescent lights like the one at Winburn. The walls here are spray painted all different neon colours. As I examine them, I bump into Royal.
“Sorry,” I say, leaning to the side to see why we’ve stopped up ahead.
Stokes stands in front of a bright doorway. “Hey,” he says, walking in.
As I enter the room with a concrete floor and black walls, someone in a Batman suit and mask stands from one of several chairs lined against the far wall.
“Recognize me?” Jamie asks with a laugh and points to Royal. “Oh-ho, nice costume.” He laughs and meets him at the door.
“Might need to have a showdown after the show,” Royal quips.
“We need to get a picture together tonight!” Jamie tells him and turns to the rest of us. “Looking great, guys! Lyn, can we talk for a sec?”
I nod and begin to follow him out the door.
“Everything okay?” Stokes asks.
“Oh yeah, no worries.” Jamie turns the corner, his cape flowing behind him, and stops, lowering his voice. “I wanted to see if you had a chance to think about what I said the other night?” I stare at him blankly. “About representation.”
“Oh, no. I honestly haven’t.”
“I know it’s fun to be part of a band, but I see you as a solo artist. I think you write some great songs, and with the help of a friend of mine in Nashville, I think you could really take them to the next level. Would you want to sing your own songs?”
I nod. “Yeah, I always have.”
He shrugs. “Well, consider this my official offer. I’d like to set you up down there.”
“Like you did with Pascha?”
He cocks his head to the side and nods. “Yeah, but you’re different. I set Pascha up, and my friend took my word for how talented she is, but she went rogue.” He shakes his head. “She left earlier than she was supposed to. I had to ask my contact to reschedule her recording time and everything. She should have been there yesterday, but she’s late. I’m waiting to hear from him tonight.” He licks his lips and leans his shoulder against the concrete wall. “Pascha’s kind of a wildcard, and my word is all I have, so this doesn’t look good on me. I don’t know you well, Lyn, but I don’t think you’re like that. I think you take this seriously, and you’re a professional, like your father was.” He rests his hands on his hips. “You think it over, okay?”
I nod and he steps aside, leaning into the room. “Hey, Cline, can we talk for a sec?”
Cline nods, and I pass him on his way out. I can make out the words of their muffled voices as I rest my bag on a chair by the door.
“… about Pascha today,” Jamie says, resting his hand on Cline’s back. “I still haven’t heard back. Left a message for my friend there. He’ll call back and I’ll let you know.”
Cline scoffs, taking a step back and raising his voice. “So, they haven’t heard from her, either?”
“No, but I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”
Cline lets out a light huff of laughter. “Seriously?” He stalks back into the room and plunks down on a chair in the corner, opens Royal’s backpack, and pulls out a bottle of beer. “I told you guys. Something’s not right. She hasn’t even shown up in Nashville!”
Jamie walks back in with his hands on his hips, looking heroic in his costume.
“She didn’t exactly leave on good terms,” Stokes says. “She might need some space.”
“I know her,” Cline says. “Something’s not right.”
“You know how she is.” Lucie hovers by one of the chairs beside Stokes. “She doesn’t feel like she owes anyone, anything.”
Cline frowns and cranes his neck back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Lucie shrugs and tucks her hair behind her ear. “I just don’t think her not calling means something bad happened. She does what she wants when she wants. If she wanted to keep in touch with us, she would have.”
“What do you all think?” Cline asks. “You think she just ghosted us and her new gig?”
“Maybe.” Lucie rolls up her sleeves and everyone else stares at the ground.
“You all think I drove her so far away; she’s avoiding everyone in her life?” Cline stands and waves his finger in front of them all. “You all think she ran away from me. Am I some terrible monster? I scared her off?”
“You’re not a monster.” Royal
