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“I’m fine.” Nausea twisted her insides. A chill chased the sweat on her spine. Ugh, she’d eaten too much.

The guitar intro tiptoed in, hushing the roar of the crowd. Jay remained in a crouch between her legs, worry wrinkling the skin around his eyes.

She spread clammy fingers over his cheek and attempted a smile. Her hand fell away, limp and trembling. Dammit. “Your fans are waiting. Go do your thing and blow them away.”

His jaw set, and his fists flexed on his thighs. He jerked his chin at Nathan. “Take all the guards with you except Tony.” Eyes boring into her, he rose, mouthed, “Love you.” Shifting into the shadowed corner beside her, he clicked a button on his headset and rolled into the first verse ofRunning Up That Hill, a Kate Bush cover song.

For a moment, the pain dimmed as she absorbed the calming tones of his timbre. He sang the song likePlacebo, eerie and dark, a soul-deep vibration.

Another pang slammed into her. She cupped her mouth and swung her head, catching Nathan’s eyes.

He half-carried, half-ran her to the nearest bathroom. Standing over her, he gathered her hair as she heaved bile and eggs. After a few more violent projections, she gasped, spit, and slumped to the tile floor.

“I don’t know what’s worse.” He muffled his mouth in his arm as he kicked the flusher. “The smell or the fact that I recognize ninety-nine percent of what came up. Eggs? Did you even chew them?”

A shiver battered through her and her mouth teemed with saliva. “I don’t feel good.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He lifted her in the cradle of his arms, set her on the vanity, and wet a paper towel under the tap. “Can you make it to the hotel before you toss any more eggs?”

“Funny guy.” She yanked the towel from his hand and wiped her face and mouth. She didn’t want to go and abandon Jay with only one guard, but it would’ve been an argument she didn’t have the strength for. “Better scrounge up a trash bag or it might be a really long ten-minute drive.”

81

Charlee emerged from oblivion with a throbbing head and a sandpaper tongue. She patted the bed through the dark. Cold and empty. She was in the suite she shared with Jay, but where was he? “Jay? Nathan?”

The dim light beyond the bedroom door caught flickers of a pacing silhouette. She shuffled through the room and stopped at the threshold.

Phone to his ear, Nathan’s expression was severe, cheeks crimson. He looked up. “She’s awake. Call you right back.”

She toyed with wet strands of her hair. Must not have been asleep that long. “What’s wrong?”

“How do you feel?” He approached her, rested a palm on her forehead. “Fever’s broke.”

“Who were you talking to? Was that Jay? Is the show over?” Why wasn’t he there? She shook off the paranoia creeping over her.

He dropped his hand. “Anymore nausea? Diarrhea?”

She sunk into her shoulders. He’d officially seen it all. At least she’d had enough coherency to wipe her own ass and administer her shower in privacy. “No. I think it’s passed. No more egg salad. Ever.”

That didn’t produce that smile she was expecting. The nausea returned. “Is it Jay? Where is he?”

He studied the black screen on his phone. “Charlee…he…Fuck!” He spun and paced through the room. “The show ended two hours ago. He’s…he’s in the hotel.”

Some of the tension unclenched in her stomach. “So he’s safe? Roy doesn’t—”

“No, Roy doesn’t fucking have him. He’s safe for the moment.”

For the moment? “Did he do something to piss you off? What are you not telling me?”

His pacing made helter-skelter zigzags through the sitting room, his hands on his hips, eyes on the floor.

Head spinning, she reeled into the bedroom, flicking on lights and shoving on a clean pair of jeans. “He’s in the hotel? Where?” she shouted as she tagged the water bottle from the table and gulped it down. Turning, she slammed into Nathan. “Take me to him.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face and stared at her out of hard eyes. “Tony’s with him. It’s in her employment contract…fuck, it’s my contract not to interfere.” He pressed a fist against his thinned lips, his eyes flicking through the room, divulging nothing.

Her heart galloped a furious tempo. Was Jay drunk? Oh, God, was it drugs?Please don’t let it be drugs.“What’s. Not. In the contract?”

Lifting his phone, he tapped the screen and held it to his ear. “We’re on our way…Yes,We.”