Page 113 of Knox
The phone buzzed, and he opened his eyes. Read the caller ID.
“Rafe. What’s up?” He glanced outside, saw Reuben talking with the insurance man.
“Hey, Knox.” Rafe’s easy tone was clipped. “NBR-X is in trouble. I need you to come to Vegas. And I need you to bring Gordo.”
“I’ll get the pizzas.”
Tate glanced around the room, his gaze landing on Kelsey, then Glo before he added, “Don’t let anyone in but me, but I have my key, so, just don’t let anyone in.”
“Aye-aye, Master Chief.”
Tate gave Glo a small glare but didn’t hide the tiny grin as he left.
“What’s with you two?” Kelsey asked. They’d been acting weirdly since they left the hospital in Helena.
Glo looked at her. “Nothing.” She adjusted her sling, something she put on after today’s rehearsal. She sat on the sofa of the suite, her head against a mound of pillows Tate had built for her. She wore a pair of yoga pants and an oversized T-shirt down to her knees, probably in defiance of her mother’s attempts to clean her up in case the press tracked them down between rehearsals.
Senator Jackson had already made a statement about her daughter’s “accident,” leaving out the death threats. She’d added a couple security personnel to Glo’s detail, under Tate’s direction.
Tate had spent the last five days working with the security team at the Las Vegas Western Complex, a venue used for everything from sporting events to motorcycle shows. And of course, rodeo and country music. He had also briefed the security team about the bombing in San Antonio, and they created another layer of security around the stock areas.
Dixie came in from the kitchenette area of the suite holding a couple ice teas and handed one to Glo before she slid onto the sofa and put Glo’s feet on her lap. “I think we have the finale nailed.”
“Just like you planned it, Kels. Way to go.” Glo lifted her bottle.
“As long as I don’t freak out.” She hadn’t, not once, in practice, but the threat sat in her gut, tugging.
Vince Russell was not out there in the darkness waiting to kill her. She hadn’t even been the target.
She’d just been an innocent bystander, a tourist in the park.
A random victim.
Her words to Knox kept pinging back to her every time she walked onstage and took the mic, looked out over the auditorium.I need to keep moving. On the road, I’m in control. I know what I’m doing.
Or not. Because yes, she knew all the harmonies, had the show embedded inside her, but frankly…Knox was right. It was easier to be a performer onstage than to…
Than to rely on someone to show up just when you needed them. To reach out and hope that person—even God, maybe—would catch you.
I won’t let you fall. I’m going to get you out of this.
She had to stop thinking about Knox. The way he folded his fingers between hers, the way she lost her name when he looked in her eyes.
She hadn’t slept well for a week, not until she turned on the television and found a hockey game. Wyatt’s team had lost last night. Probably she should stop watching the Blue Ox.
“You’re not going to freak out,” Dixie said. “But I do have an idea…” She picked at the label of her bottle, glanced at Glo. “What if Glo sang ‘One True Heart’?”
Kelsey looked at her, then Glo, who stared at Dixie as if she’d asked her to streak across stage.
“No—”
“Yes,” Kelsey said. “It’s a great idea. You’re not playing tomorrow night, and you need your own spotlight. This is a great idea!”
“No!” Glo said. Took her feet away from Dixie. “I…I’m not ready.”
“Yes, you are. I hear you singing it all the time, in the shower, in the bus—”
Glo was shaking her head.