The paramedic stands, and before I have a chance to think, Elijah has scooped me into his arms.
I burrow into the warmth of his neck as my whole body trembles. "Where shall I take her?" he asks.
"Backstage," Angelica yells, coming into view. "Keep her away from the crowds. I'll sort out the end of the show. Go."
Elijah doesn't hesitate and follows the paramedics, flanked by the rest of Steel 7. "Bring the bottle," the paramedic calls over his shoulder. "They'll want to identify the liquid."
"I've got it," Jax yells.
Behind us, Angelica announces that the support act will be coming back on due to unforeseen circumstances. The crowd whistles and the ominous rumbling of booing follows us down the hallway, but when the band starts playing their biggest hit, the disgruntled response is drowned out.
I shouldn't care, but I do.
This is my show, and I can't finish it.
I pour more water into my mouth and swill it around. "I need to spit," I tell Elijah, and he pauses for long enough to allow me to relieve a little of the strange feeling.
"Don't worry," he says as we emerge into the warm evening. "Everything's going to be fine."
He's just trying to make me feel better. He's a good man with a good heart, but he doesn't know that.
Nobody knows that.
And for the first time ever, I find myself doubting him and the men paid to protect me.
22
CONNOR
Ben calls me on route to the hospital to tell me what happened, and I’m up and out of the room so fast, I forget to pull the keycard from the doorway. The concierge hails me a cab, and I urge the driver to speed as much as he can.
All the way, my heart pounds in my chest, imagining Luna feeling hurt and scared. I curse myself for not being there when she needed me. I don’t blame my team or imagine that it wouldn’t have happened if I’d had been working tonight. I just hate that I wasn’t there to give her comfort.
Food and water are Angelica’s area. She organizes Luna’s rider. She’s responsible for letting this happen.
At the hospital, the receptionist doesn’t want to tell me where she is. The information is for family only. “I’m her fiancé,” I tell her. Anything for her to let me up to the floor where Luna is being treated. I find everyone apart from Elijah in the waiting room. “What the fuck?” I say, not caring that there are other people waiting too.
“Someone tampered with her water,” Mo says. “The hospital has it and is trying to identify the substance. It’s lucky she didn’t swallow, or it could have burned her throat. As it is, her mouth is a little red, and she’s hoarse from vomiting and coughing.
“Hoarse? Her voice?”
“Yeah,” Jax says.
“Do you think that’s what this is about?”
Everyone shrugs. “Who knows, Con? Why put something that smells corrosive in a bottle unless you want to damage someone’s mouth?”
The rage I feel bubbling up wedges in my throat. Someone hurt my girl, not just inadvertently, but with purpose and malice. They tried to damage her body and her livelihood.
Who would do something like this?
“Did you see anyone? Anyone hanging around? Someone standing near the table?” Everyone shakes their heads. “Well, it couldn’t have just happened. Someone did this.”
“The only people allowed back there are…” I raise my hand before Ben can finish.
“Remember the torn-up panties…someone got through that time.”
My phone starts to ring, and as I pull it out of my pocket, I see it’s my contact at Blueday Records. Shit. They must have heard already.
“Hello.”
Adam begins asking a ton of questions that I don’t have answers to, so I cut him off by saying that I need to talk to the doctor, and I’ll call him back.
He’s still talking when I swipe to disconnect the call, but I can’t worry about that right now. I need to get in there and see Luna for myself and talk to Elijah, who’s the only one who’s been allowed to go into the room.
The door to Luna’s room is open, and she’s lying back on the bed, looking as small and frail as a child. Someone has covered her with a blanket, probably because her stage costumes are always tiny and revealing. Elijah stands from his seat in the corner and moves closer to Luna’s side. “She’s okay,” he tells me. “It could have been a lot worse, but thankfully she realized what was in the bottle before she swallowed it. Her tongue is a little pink, and her throat is a little tender, but she’s going to be okay. Luna blinks up at me, the corner of her mouth twitching. “The doctor told her not to talk. She needs to minimize potential damage.”
I exhale a long breath, relieved to know that there aren’t going to be any long-term problems caused by this incident. Luna’s had a scare, and one concert has been affected, but she’s not due to sing again for three days. Maybe that’ll be enough time if she has total rest.