“Just making sure nobody causes trouble,” he says.
Bianca grins. “You boys missed the chaos backstage.”
“Chill and Izzy still back there?” Hunter asks.
“Yeah,” Bianca says. “Izzy’s packing up her makeup and equipment. Chill’s helping Tony pack up the clothes and accessories. We offered to help, but they said they’re almost done.”
I glance toward the backstage area. I don’t see Zara, but I remember she mentioned something about meeting a buyer. A hotshot from the area with lots of money and an eye for fashion. I hope he’s offering her the chance to pursue her dreams so she’ll have another reason to stay.
Still…
My eyes drift back there again.
That’s when Tony bursts through the curtain. He looks like a man who just realized his house is on fire. His eyes search the area before shifting to find me.
“Hey,” he calls, scanning the room again. “Have you seen Zara?”
Every muscle in my body tightens.
“No,” I say immediately, pushing off the wall. “I thought she was backstage with you.”
Tony shakes his head, running a hand through his hair.
“She was supposed to meet a buyer. The event coordinator said the guy wanted to talk privately.” His eyes dart around the loft. “I figured she’d be back by now.”
A slow, cold weight settles in my chest.
Chrome straightens.
“How long ago?” he asks.
“Twenty minutes. Maybe thirty.”
That weight drops straight into my stomach like a brick.
“Let’s find her,” I say.
The mood changes instantly as we split up to search. Hunter and Smoke check backstage. Rattler and Bianca move toward the side corridors. Viper and Chrome check the restrooms while Tony and I search the dressing rooms and storage areas. Instead of finding Zara, we find nothing.
Tony and I push back out onto the main floor just as the others regroup.
Hunter shakes his head.
“She’s not backstage.”
“Nothing in the side halls,” Bianca says.
My pulse starts pounding in my ears.
“Hold up,” Hunter says as we hear the unmistakable sound of the freight elevator. But it isn’t coming from behind us. A large metal door recessed into the brick wall opens to reveal a second freight elevator. Inside, two crew members are wheeling empty carts.
My stomach drops.
We move fast.
The event coordinator stands nearby, arguing with one of the stagehands. I grab her shoulder before she can walk away.
“Where’s the buyer my girl was meeting?” I ask.
