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I sit up slowly, fighting the wooziness and nausea, so I can see his face, and reluctantly he releases me, but stays close, his intense gaze fixed on me.

“This isn’t your fault, Eddie.”

He nods, his features tight with anger and something that looks like guilt. “It was one of my roadies, baby.”

He seems intent on calling me that, and I find I like the term coming from him, it seems tender and real, sweet and comforting, as if he will stand between me and the monsters. It settles me, just like his presence did in the tattoo parlor when Randy got aggressive with me. His voice is dripping with guilt, and I hate that he’s blaming himself, but I don’t have the energy for more than a reassuring smile as a wave of dizziness washes over me. My hand flies to my head and then I’m in his arms again as he pulls me close, settling my head against his chest.

A sudden fear grips me, and I whisper, “Christie. Where’s Christie?”

Eddie’s muscles tense under me. He turns his head and shouts toward the door, his voice a sharp demand. “Find Christie. Now.”

The sound of hurried footsteps echoes outside as one of his security guys rushes to do his bidding. Eddie’s grip on me doesn’t ease. “We’ll find her, okay?”

I nod against his chest, my exhaustion pulling me under again. But even as my body gives in to the haze, I hold onto one truth—the only solid thing in my spinning world.

Eddie is here.

And I’m safe.

9.Eddie

I carryLaney into my tour trailer, the soft glow of the dimmed lights casting shadows across her pale face. I feel her friend trailing closely behind me, her worry and fear for Laney seeping out of her, but I ignore her my focus on Laney. She feels so small in my arms, her body still sluggish from whatever the bastard gave her. I’ve barely let her go since the doctor left, but now, as I gently lower her onto the bed, I hesitate. My fingertips brush over her cheek, the softness of her skin stark against the rage still simmering in my chest. Seeing her in my bed fills me with an unexpected satisfaction, a primal possessiveness that settles deep in my bones. She’s where she belongs.

The trailer is a testament to the kind of life I live—sleek, modern, and dripping with luxury. Dark wood paneling lines the walls, soft recessed lighting casts a warm glow over plush leather seating and a stocked bar in the corner. A massive flat-screen TV is mounted on one side, next to a built-in sound system playing low, ambient music. The bedroom area, where I lay Laney down, has a king-sized bed covered in high-thread-count sheets, its rich, charcoal-colored comforter pristine and inviting. A private en-suite bathroom boasts a rainfall shower and a vanity that could rival a high-end hotel.

Laney blinks up at me sleepily, exhaustion pulling at her, and I stroke her hair back. “You rest, sweetheart. I got you.”

Christie hovers at the door, concern etched across her face. “I can help her change,” she offers softly. “Sit with her.”

Reluctantly, I nod, forcing myself to step back. I don’t want to leave, not even for a second, but Christie is her friend. “Yeah,” I say gruffly. “Make sure she’s comfortable.”

As Christie helps Laney, I stand near the door, arms crossed tightly over my chest, forcing myself to give them privacy. I watch as Laney’s eyelids flutter shut, her breathing evening out.

“She’s out,” Christie whispers, carefully pulling the blanket over Laney. She turns to me. “I can stay with her if you have things to do… or I can take her home.”

My jaw tightens. The idea of Laney leaving my sight makes my gut twist. “Stay with her until she’s rested. Then I’ll have you both taken home.”

Christie hesitates, then nods. “Thank you… for taking care of her.” Her voice hitches with a sob before she wrestles it under control. “I should never have left her alone, even for a second, but I…I guess I got caught up in things backstage and we got split up.”

My gaze darkens. “You never have to thank me for taking care of Laney,” I say firmly. “That’s never a question and you have nothing to feel bad about, this is not on you.”

It’s on me, it never should have been allowed to happen.

Christie gives me a small smile before turning back to Laney, settling into a chair beside the bed. I linger a moment longer, unwilling to step away, but the fire burning in my gut demands retribution. I need to handle unfinished business.

I force myself out of the trailer, my movements rigid as I stalk across the lot. The security team has taken the bastard to an empty trailer, away from prying eyes. Each step closer sends adrenaline coursing through my veins, my fists alreadyclenching at my sides. I want blood. Want to make sure the scumbag understands what it means to touch something that belongs to me.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I yank it out without slowing my pace. “What?”

“Eddie,” Nico’s voice comes through, smooth but laced with interest. “Just heard what happened. You need me to take care of this trash for you?”

I clench my jaw, stepping up onto the trailer’s steps. I exhale through my nose, trying to rein in the inferno raging inside me. “Appreciate it, but I’ll handle it.”

Nico chuckles darkly. “You sure? We’re good at making problems disappear.”

I smile despite myself. “I know. But this one’s personal.”

A pause. Then, “Understood. Call me if you change your mind.”