Page 25 of Israel

Chapter 11

Israel paced back and forth in the forward lounge of the bus. Considering it was about two paces in each direction—if that—it wasn’t a very useful way to burn off energy.

And he had a lot of frustrated, pissed-off energy to burn.

He wasn’t angry that Ashley was yelling at him. He got that it was that, or she was going to come apart.

He just wished she wasn’t pushing him away along with everyone else.

He was her mate. She should be leaning on him, not pushing him away. The distance between them was driving him crazy. Not being able to tell her how much she meant to him was worse.

But he could imagine how that would go.

“Hey, Ashley, you know how your stalker took one look at you and was convinced you belonged with him and you were destined to be together forever? Guess what? So did I!”

He’d get fired and never see her again. And that was the best-case scenario. Harrison ripping his head off was also a possibility.

His wolf growled. It’s not the same. She does belong with us. She’s our mate.

Sure, Israel replied sourly. Tell me how to explain the difference in words she’ll understand. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

His wolf just growled.

Exactly, Israel said.

The bus shook as Harrison mounted the steps, followed by his head of security, Mike Watson. The Malsueño brothers piled on behind them, looking daggers at Israel.

Fuck it. Israel did not need a testosterone battle right now.

The six of them crowded themselves onto the sofas, headsets off except for Watson, who had his mic off but was monitoring the team’s reports as they examined the scene.

“What have we got?” Israel asked.

Harrison shook his head. “Perimeter and venue sweeps turned up nothing. Nobody saw anything unusual at any of the entrances. I’m checking to see if any big deliveries came in earlier today—maybe he sneaked the flowers in early. But somebody still should have seen him.”

“And how the hell did he transport a fucking truckload of lilacs into Ashley’s dressing room while the show was going on, without anyone seeing him?” Israel said.

No one had an answer for that.

“We’ll check the security footage as soon as we can get it,” Harrison said. “In the meantime, let’s get Ashley out of here.”

Watson turned on his mic and requested that someone send Avery, the driver, to the bus.

“This joker has to be part of the crew,” Carlos said. “It’s the only way he could get inside the venue. Can we waterboard everyone? That should get us some answers.”

Harrison and Israel ignored him.

“Waterboarding aside, he’s probably right about it being someone on the crew,” Mike admitted. “He got too close for it to be some random stranger. I just don’t know how we could have missed it in the background checks.”

Israel shook his head. “Half a dozen ways. First offense. False paperwork. Fake references. No system is foolproof; you know that. Can you check alibis?”

Mike heaved a sigh. “I can try, but everybody’s everywhere during the show. You know how it is.”

“I don’t fucking care,” Harrison said. “This is Ashley. I’ve known her since she was a kid. We have to find this guy, or we have to shut this tour down. Because no one’s going to hurt her on my watch. You hear me?”

He flexed his hand, and wicked three-inch claws sprouted from his fingertips.

Israel knew how he felt. His wolf was close to the surface too, and he could feel the low growl starting to rumble in his chest. Mike—a panther by the scent of him—smelled like he was on the verge of going furry as well.