“—we pick them back up!”
He repeats it one more time, nods his head, and glances over his shoulder at me. “Ready when you are, Bedlam.”
Shit, I hope that was the last time.
Even more, I hope to hell Gemma doesn’t let him get in the crowd in a couple of songs.
I start up again, trying to block out the audience, and by the end of the song, we’re back in our groove. Zeb comes onto the platform a few times within the next couple of songs, each time peering at me with wide eyes as if to say, “what the fuck?” And each time, I nod my agreement.
Because what the fuck.
Reed doesn’t even call for his usual Wall of Death. He’s singing and scouting this venue like a hawk, Mads doing the same. Every now and then, I see Mads step offstage to Kade.He brought Andi backstage instead of in the walk taking photos, intent on keeping her nearby in case something worse than a few pit fights happened.
I don’t blame him for wanting to keep her close.
She’s still taking photos, even coming onto the platform with me some. I’m so consumed with the beat that most times I barely notice her.
And duringPieces, Liam shakes his head at Reed, letting him know there won’t be any crowd surfing today.
Thank fuck for that.
Something tells me he wouldn’t get out of this one, even if Gemma went diving in after him.
We’re almost to the breakdown when I hear Reed’s voice trail mid-verse.
My ears perk, head jerking his way.
Something isn’t right, and if he’s still playing, it means it isn’t just another fight.
Reed walks over to Mads and says something. Mads appears casual as he steps offstage, but I know something is up. I glance to the wings. He says something to Andi. She claps her hand over her mouth, and when she runs, I miss a beat.
What did Reed see?
My gaze scans the area where Reed keeps looking toward. Liam is in the walk. He checks his headset. He peers to the same area and begins walking—not so fast that it draws attention, but quick enough that my attention is fucked.
A hand touches my back.
I jump, but Gemma leans in close, and the fact that she’s onstage makes me nauseous.
“I need you to keep playing,” she says. “Keep playing, and if something happens, run to the dressing room and lock the door. Do not stop. Don’t try to find the guys. They all have their own instructions. Okay?”
I narrow my brows over my shoulder, finding her staring at me with terror in her eyes. It takes me aback, but I keep playing, and Gemma nods once before backing down the platform steps.
Shit.
My heart is in my throat. I’m playing entirely on muscle memory. I look toward Reed again, who’s still singing, but completely distracted, Mads right beside him as if he’s ready to yank Reed off stage the moment something goes down.
Zeb jumps onto the platform like he’s trying to see what’s happening.
Two more security people are closing in down the walk. One hops over the barrier. Someone wearing a hoodie over their head is moving through the crowd with two security people following them from inside the audience. The person reaches the edge of the circle pit, and I stand up without thinking, drumsticks hitting the ground.
Because the fucker pulls a gun from inside his shirt.
“GET DOWN!”
Zeb grabs my arm, and I see Mads jerk Reed to the ground just as gunshots fire.
Fuckinggunshots?!
