I stare at him. “Not yet.”
Mack grunts. Not approval. Not disapproval. A warning that time doesn’t pause for chaos.
“She wants to wait,” I add. “Until this is settled.”
Mack’s eyes hold mine for a long moment. “Then settle it.”
It’s not cruelty. It’s faith. He believes Andi can survive this. He just wants her to stop living with one foot braced for impact.
I shower and head home early so I can be there when the live show airs. Andi tries to act like she’s fine. She’s not. Her hands are restless. Her mouth keeps tightening. She keeps forcing a calm expression on her face, like it’s a discipline.
I sit beside her and pull her close, letting her tuck into my shoulder. “I’m here,” I say quietly.
“I know,” she whispers. Then, after a beat, “Don’t leave.”
It’s not dramatic. It’s not begging. It’s the truth of the fear that lives deep inside her. Her past damaged her, and I understand that because of my own. I’ll reassure her with the same words and actions as many times as it takes.
My stomach twists. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The TV flickers, and Lindsay Blair’s face fills the screen. This time, it isn’t pre-taped polish. This time it’s live. And live means no one gets to hide behind editing.
Andi sits up straighter. Every muscle in her body goes tight. I slide my arm around her and hold on. Whatever comes next, we’ll take it together.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
LUKE
By the time we pull up to The Beta Room, the line stretches halfway down the block.
I expected a crowd. I did not expect a spectacle.
Phones are already out. People are buzzing about the youth center review and the live corroboration from the previous day. They aren’t just here for karaoke contests and fantastic voices anymore. They’re here to witness the carnage and aftermath of a devastating wreck.
Andi doesn’t hesitate when she steps out of the truck. She scans the perimeter first, something she neverused to do. Then she squares her shoulders and walks toward the entrance like she owns the ground beneath her feet.
Inside, the club is at capacity. Mitch meets us near the bar, tension written across his face.
“Security’s doubled,” he says quietly. “No large cameras allowed, but everyone’s recording on their phones. I’ve got bouncer staff at the back hallway, so no one slips backstage.”
“Good,” Andi replies calmly. “Thank you, Mitch, for everything you’ve done to help me. Your support means more than you’ll ever know.”
“Andi, I love you like you’re one of my kids. You’re the same age as my daughter. I’d kill any man who came near her after he did the things you described. You have nothing to worry about as long as I’m here.”
She hugs Mitch, fighting the emotion his words stir in her, then moves toward the back of the club. I step in front of her before she can head toward the dressing room. Not aggressively, but deliberately. “Andi, think about this one more time.”
She looks up at me without irritation or sarcasm. Just determination and resolve.
“They’re trying to suspend me from the youth center,” shesays. “They’re calling me unstable. Dangerous. If I let that narrative sit, it calcifies.”
“This will provoke him,” I counter.
“He’s already provoked,” she says evenly. “This just makes him visible.”
That’s what unsettles me. She isn’t being reckless. She’s being strategic. Strategic people scare powerful men, and he’s already known she threatens him on a visceral level.
She slips past me and disappears backstage.
Shane steps up beside me, arms folded. “She’s not backing down,” he says.
