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Two small clicks sounded in Bishop’s ear. “I’m here.” Rocco cleared his throat. “What a shit storm.”
Backstage cleared in hysteria as two EMTs arrived. “What’s happening out there?”
The people tearing out of the place had no idea. When they saw others run, they hauled ass too. These first responders were cut from the right cloth, not giving two shits about actresses in fancy dresses, feigning worry when they didn’t know why.
Locke rushed to join the newly arrived EMTs and Ella. “We need to get you three out. We’re evacuating.”
Cops appeared where celebrities had been seated, but they hung back. The onstage security officers who remained acted as though they were a heartbeat away from attacking. But everyone waited.
“Why are theyevacuating?”Ella gaped. “What is going on?”
The two EMTs exchanged a brief good-bye and hustled out.
“Locke, get her out of here,” Bishop pushed.
Jay walked toward their side of the stage. “I want to see Ella. If she leaves, I’ll trigger the switch.”
Enough!Bishop charged in front of the backing security force. “You goddamn asshat.”
“I’ve been waiting for you. Say hi.”
Locke, Parker, and Rocco debated in his ear about whether or not Jay was bluffing and whether that remote was set to detonate anything. Would Jay be so stupid?Yes. He absolutely would.Would he kill himself and take out everyone in the awards hall? Bishop wouldn’t put it past the guy. All those murder-suicide news reports came to mind. He didn’t know one thing from another when it came to psychology of the brokenhearted, but he did know that Jay was off his fucking rocker and had a creative mind that was warped enough to end it all.
“There’s bomb-sniffing dogs and hostage negotiators on the fast track,” Parker reassured him. “But do what you gotta do.”
“Damn it. You don’t know if there’s a dead-man’s switch,” Rocco said, reading Bishop’s mind. “This would be some good fucking TV if not for everyone about to die on my fucking job.”
Bishop turned, momentarily aware of the cameras and not caring. “Walk offstage, Jay.”
“No way.” He looked over Bishop’s shoulder. “Unless she’s still over there?”
“What’s on her wrist?”
Jay stopped searching for Ella. “The fun part of vlogging every part of her life has been working with her fans. They haven’t had a chance to meet you. Say hi, Bishop. You’re spending all your time with her now. They deserve to know who you are.” He pulled his phone out, running his thumb over the screen. “Yup, they’re asking about you.”
“Walk offstage.”
“Say hello.”
“You’re hurting her. Make it stop. If you ever loved her.”
Jay laughed and looked down. “It’s real time. The cameras are rolling, and this is the man they’re meeting? Big, angry, shouting Bishop. Not someone that should be with Ella.” Jay clucked, and Bishop wanted to put his fist through the guy’s face. “This is a great live stream—are you looking for Tara?”
His stomach dropped as the earpiece clicked again.
“Jared here. I’m read in. Stay steady, Bishop.”
That didn’t do much for his plummeting stomach.
“Hey,” Locke broke in. “Ella wants to talk to Jay.”
Goddamn it!
“No go, Locke,” Rocco ordered. “Stay with her.”
“No shit,” Locke muttered. “Just looping you in.”
Parker rumbled a low curse. “Found Tara.”