Page 51

Kelsey isn’t in the picture, but she doesn’t need to be. I recognize the place and what I was wearing.

They were following her.

Jasper climbs into the truck. He takes in the poem, the boxing glove with the lipstick, and that I’m wheezing with the effort to get a full breath. Jumping out, he puts in a call as he scans the area for anyone who shouldn’t be here. “Rook, we have another letter.”

I don’t know how long we wait for Rook. Long enough for me to catch my breath and get back on my feet. I still feel wobbly.

“I called law enforcement. They’re on their way,” he says. “You know the drill. Don’t touch anything. Stick around to answer their questions.”

“Who are they sending?” Last time the detective in charge of the case had sent it on to the FBI. It had turned into one hell of a clusterfuck. When the case had finally gone back to the detective, he’d reasoned that the person who killed the bird and left the photos was not the same person who had been stalking me previously.

I’m neither confident in his conclusion nor willing to ignore it. The letters have always been the same. It’s more likely they escalated. And now they’ve got Kelsey in their sights. “They had Kelsey’s lipstick. They got close to her to get to me.”

“Come on, Son.” Rook grips my shoulders and gives me a shake. He gets in my face, blocking the scene in the truck from my view. “Yes, it’s the lipstick Kelsey wears, but the perpetrator could have bought it. It could be coincidental that they managed to get the same brand and color. Unless the cops can get DNA off it that belongs to her—”

“They followed her. They know who she is.” I pat down each of my pockets. I need another smoke. I need my Zippo. My hands are still shaking as I put the smoke between my lips. I can’t get my thumb to spin the wheel in a steady motion. Couldn’t light this shit to save my life. The thin paper on the joint breaks and empties its contents when I shove it into my pocket. “I don’t know how they knew she was with us, but they knew.”

“Or they’re following you. Coming to the shows. Getting as close to you as they can.” His hand still on my shoulder, he ushers me out of the truck. “They probably saw her with you. Going into a venue, leaving a hotel, or at one of the promos. We know these letters are focused on you. The threat isn’t to Kelsey.”

“Except, you know, that night.” I point at the wall with the lipstick letter. “Because this person managed to isolate her so they could prove to me that they could. They could have hurt her, Rook.”

They could have taken her away from me. From Bronx, and Golden, and Kodiak.

“But they didn’t. They had the opportunity and they didn’t hurt her. Because she isn’t the target here. It’s you.”

“She can’t be alone, Rook. Not ever. Not for a single moment.” She rarely ever is. He or Jasper are usually with her. And one of the guys too. Mostly Kodiak. Almost always Kodiak. But she was alone that night. “You let her out of your sight once...”

And we’d had words because Marco is out there and he is after her. But everyone on our security detail knows about Marco. They’ve been shown his face. As long as she’s with us, she’s safe.

We don’t know what this individual looks like. We don’t know who they are. Or what they’re capable of. Only that they’re obsessed with getting closer to me.

So obsessed they’d killed a bird and scratched the eyes out of photos they’d taken of Sonatina? There’d been blood and one of my favorite guitars had been ruined. I’d been so fucking grateful they weren’t photos of Kelsey.

Is that what comes next? Photos of her with her eyes gouged out?

My stomach rebels. I curl over and spit the vile taste from my mouth in a glob onto the concrete. Please no.

“It will never happen again,” he swears solemnly.

“I need to see her.” With my own eyes. See that she’s safe. I need to know who is watching her currently while he’s down here with us. “Now.”

“Yeah, okay,” he says. “We’ll go see her, but then we have to come straight back down to meet with law enforcement.”

Back inside the stadium, Rook leads the way to the dressing rooms where he left Kelsey and Kodiak when he was called down to the trucks. He stops to talk to the other guard. She’s a regular of the inner circle who guards the dressing rooms, backstage, and hangout area.

They’ll be in Kodiak’s dressing room and that’s the one I stride toward. She needs to know—

Her full-bodied laughter slams into me before I’m close enough to see them. It rocks me to my core. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard her that free and happy.

Kodiak is the reason she’s laughing like that. I want to know what he said to her. What he did to get that reaction.

I stop outside the dressing room. Peer in like a voyeur.

They’re seated across from each other at a folding table. Kelsey is perched on a tower of bottled water cases. Kodiak is on the couch; an arm stretched along the top of it. He has his head bowed over a hand of playing cards, a bashful grin lodged on his face.

On the table between them are two piles of cards. One face down, the other face up.

Her back is to me, but when she lifts her head, I have no doubt she’s been studying her cards too.