“Alle?”
She almost fell into him. “Where is he?”
Their last conversation had been decidedly uneasy. That was reflected in the way she regarded him now, green eyes hostile. Whatever trust had existed between them had been eroded by the events of the last few days. He got it, understood her hurt, her anger, the fear. The mistrust. Considering what he suspected, that one was biting him hard too. On the other hand, her anxiety was real.
Her hair was all of a tangle around her face, and salt-streaks had cut through the powder on her cheeks. “I want to see him.”
“He’s not here. He’s gone.” He reached out to steady her, but she batted aside his arm.
“What you do you mean he’s gone?”
“No, I don’t mean… He’s not dead, Alle. He’s hurt, but he’s not here anymore. He’s quit the band.”
“Fuck the band!” But it seemed to sink in that he was telling the truth.
“He’s really not here?”
“He discharged himself. I don’t know where the fuck he is. None of us do.” His voice fractured around the admission.
At least not knowing meant he didn’t have to concoct bullshit reasons to keep her away.
Alle covered her face with her hands, then peered at him, afraid, over the tops of her fingertips. “What happened, Xane? I don’t understand what happened. Who attacked him? Why? Was it a journalist? A fan?”
“I don’t know.” He watched her expression. “We were taking a breather. I stepped onto the bus for a sec, and when I came back, he was… I was gone a couple of minutes tops. I never heard a goddamned thing. But whoever attacked him, it was personal.” To inflict that level of violence on someone, there had to be a personal motive driving it.
He didn’t think she was such a terrific actress she could fake shock to this extent.
“But, he’s, okay?”
“No, he’s not fucking okay.” Sure, he could have broken that more gently, but she’d delayed him long enough already. Expedience was what mattered, not delicacy. “He’s black and blue. They’ve stapled him back together. No way should he be out of bed and walking. He’s a mess, Alle. He pulled the drip out. I doubt he can even see straight, given one eye is closed and they’ve spent the last few hours pumping him full of opiates, so if you’ll excuse me…”
“Where are you going?”
Where was he going? He had no idea where Spook was headed. None. What made most sense was for him to regroup with the rest of the band.
“Wherever it is, I can take you.” She nodded towards the car, and the bear of a man hunched over the steering wheel. Clearly another of her brothers.
He took a step, meaning to accept. On the periphery of his vision, he was aware of huddles of people gathering. “Have you tried calling him?” he asked.
Alle, already moving around to the passenger door, turned back to look at him. “I’ve lost my phone.”
Xane halted his stride, the suspicion he’d had growing into something with legs. “Go home,” he told her. “I’ll keep you informed of whatever we hear.”
“Home?”
“Yes. There’s nothing any of us can do but wait. He’ll let us know where he is when he’s ready to talk.” He didn’t believe that for a moment, but nor did he want her shadowing his every footfall. “There’s nothing to be gained by us all huddling together. It won’t change anything. Sally will phone around the taxi firms, but it could be hours before we get anything out of them. If we get anything at all. He could be anywhere by now.”
“And if someone spots him?”
“I’ll let you know.”
“We can still drop you off.”
“It’s fine. I’m good.” To that end, he gave her a nod, and about turned, heading in the direction of the drop off point.
“Xane? Xane!”
He slid into the back of a taxi someone had just arrived in and told the cabbie to drive before Alle caught up. He needed to think.
