“WE’RE NOT GOING TO VEGAS.”
Rhyson’s declaration swivels all heads in his direction. It’s been a long night. We’re finally home, and everyone’s assembled around the kitchen table. I watch every face for reaction. Gep doesn’t look surprised, but just nods. Disappointment, then resignation flashes over Grip’s handsome face. Bristol doesn’t bother hiding her outrage.
“The hell we aren’t going to Vegas.” She pops to her feet, hands already fisted on her hips. “It was an awful, stupid thing someone did tonight, but it’s not going to stop us.”
“Bristol, I’m not arguing about this with you.” Rhyson faces away from us, arms stretched out to the side, hands gripping the counter tightly, muscles bunched under his t-shirt.
“Yeah, we will argue if you think that months of planning is going down the drain because some super fan poured pig’s blood all over your car.” Bristol plants her hands on her slim hips. “I know it’s freaking you out, but—”
“Oh, you know?” Rhyson faces her, propping his back against the counter. “You know how it felt to see ‘Die Bitch’ written in blood on my window? To know that’s meant for Kai? That someone out there could seriously want her dead?”
I train my eyes on the table, clutch my glass of water, and draw in deep, calming breaths. Once we got back inside the studio, Gep and the cops came. They saw the ominous message written on the passenger side window, in addition to the slashed, bloody t-shirt. I want to dismiss it as a silly prank, but it’s too sinister. It doesn’t feel like a joke. There’s nothing funny about someone wanting you dead, much less writing it in blood.
I’m startled by Bristol’s hand squeezing my shoulder. Her sympathetic eyes apologize for something that isn’t her fault. She walks over to her brother and leans against the counter beside him to take his hand.
“I know it’s a lot.” When he tries to pull away, she won’t let go. She dips her head, forcing him to meet her eyes. “It’s scary, but Rhyson, we can’t just cancel this trip.”
“We can.” He pulls away and walks over to the refrigerator to grab one of his energy drinks. “We will.”
“No, we won’t.” Bristol firms her lips. “You do you realize this is being streamed online? Media outlets from all over the country, from all over the world, are sending reporters? We have interviews scheduled. Appearances. The showcase itself. A contract with the hotel, who’s been billing this for months. All of you have fans flying in just for this.”
When Bristol lays out the full scope of the showcase, it’s apparent we can’t just cancel Vegas. I see it on Grip and Gep’s faces. Despite the fear coiled in my stomach, I know that. We’re all just waiting for Rhyson to arrive at the same inevitable conclusion.
“Okay.” He nods and joins us at the table. “You guys go. Kai and I will stay here.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Rhyson.” Bristol massages her temples. “You are the linchpin. None of this works without you.”
“Well, I’m not going anywhere without Kai.” Rhyson glances at me briefly before looking away to the can he holds. “And I don’t want her going. It’s too much. Too many people. Too many variables we can’t control.”
“Gep, tell him we can keep Kai safe,” Bristol urges.
Gep clears his throat before speaking.
“You know we can, Rhys,” he says.
“No, Gep, I don’t know that.” A deep “v” settles between Rhyson’s eyebrows. “If I knew that, we wouldn’t be having this discussion now.”
“Well, we can,” Gep says. “We’ve always kept you safe. This isn’t our first time dealing with a stalker.”
That word “stalker” makes me tense up even more. If it were up to me, I’d lock me and Rhyson and this baby upstairs in our bedroom behind a bolted door. I know Rhyson is concerned about me, but I’m just as concerned about him.
“Kai, talk some sense into him.” Bristol adds pleading eyes to her request.
“Don’t do that, Bris,” Rhyson says sharply. “Don’t use her against me like that.”
“I’m not using her against you.” Bristol rubs a hand across the back of her neck. “Sometimes she’s the only one you’ll listen to.”
Rhyson and I stare at each other across the table. As much as I don’t want to go to Vegas either, we’ll have to. It’s not just us. It’s the band and Luke and Grip. They all have a lot riding on this showcase.
“I keep thinking . . . wondering . . .” He looks away from me, dismissing the words he didn’t speak with a quick shake of his head.
“What?” I ask. “You keep wondering what?”
“Well, I’ve always gone to such trouble to protect my privacy, and the one time I put it all out there, it’s come back to haunt me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Our engagement was everywhere. I proposed in front of fifty people, and videos of it went viral. If I hadn’t—”
“Don’t even think that.” I lean over to cup his face, looking into his eyes. “I love the way you proposed to me. I love that we took our story back, that you wanted the whole world to know I’m your girl. Some sicko wishing it was her doesn’t change that for me.”
He pushes the hair over my shoulder, his fingers caressing my neck.
“For once I wanted everyone to know something about me,” he says quietly. “The fact that you love me and choose to spend the rest of your life with me—there’s nothing I’m prouder of. Nothing. I didn’t want to hide it or disguise it or pretend I’m not happy with you.”
“We are not going to live our lives like hostages.” I blink back tears.
He nods and drops a kiss on my nose.
“Exactly,” Bristol says, reminding me we aren’t alone. “That’s why we’re going to Vegas.”
Rhyson levels an exasperated look at his sister.
“You never let up, do you?”
“It’s my job to not let up.” Bristol shrugs.
“No one can ever accuse you of not doing your job,” Grip mutters.
“And that’s a bad thing?” Bristol locks, loads, and aims a look at Grip. “What do you think we should do? This is your career too.”
“Whatever Rhyson decides,” Grip says with a lift of his broad shoulders, “I’ll accept. I’m good.”
“I’m fighting on this for you.” Bristol sighs and shakes her head. “For you and Luke and the guys who’ve been busting their asses at festivals for the last year.”
“I know, Bris,” Grip says softly. “And we appreciate it, but Rhys and I were boys before this label, and that ain’t changing. I know this is important, but I’m a friend first.”
“And I’m not a sister first?” She narrows her eyes at him. “Why do you think I bust my ass for him? For the money?”
“Nobody thinks that,” Rhyson cuts in. “You know I appreciate all you do. Somebody has to be the bad guy, and you’re usually it. You always do the shit no one else wants to do. You’re always the adult in the room.”
He stands to his feet, pulling me with him. He offers Bristol his first smile since the parking lot.
“I think you secretly want to run this label yourself.” He laughs softly and hooks an elbow around her neck, drawing her head down to his shoulder so she’s tucked under one arm and I’m under the other. “And you probably could. You think I don’t know I wouldn’t be where I am without you?”
Bristol turns into her brother’s side.
“I know you’re freaked.” She looks up at him, her expression as resolved as her brother’s. “But don’t give this idiot that much power.”
“This isn’t a power struggle,” Rhyson says. “I don’t have anything to prove to this person or to myself. All I want is to keep Kai safe.”
He glances down at me so our eyes meet and hold. I wish everyone would leave. We haven’t had a moment alone since the parking lot. I want him to hold me, to calm the fear that I won’t allow myself to express, even to him. But if I’m in his arms, it will fade. If we were alone, I’d climb into his lap and bury myself in him.
“Look, it’s been a long night.” Bristol grabs her ever-present bag of tricks, which could hold everything from her iPad to a cure for cancer, as far as I know. “Why don’t we get out of your hair and let you and Kai get some rest?”
Should I add mind-reader to Bristol’s varied talents? I send her a grateful glance, which she returns with a quick smile.
“We’ll revisit this in the morning,” she says. “Just call me as soon as you’re up, k?
Rhyson nods while he and Grip dap each other up.
“Gep, you’re staying here tonight, right?” A slight frown disrupts Rhyson’s expression.
“Yeah.” Gep stands up and stretches. “We’ve got several guys from the team staying, posted all over.”
“Okay.” Rhyson hesitates before going on. “Could we go over the adjustments you’re making to the security plan just one more time?”
I could tell him the adjustments myself by now since Rhyson has asked this question twice already in the last few hours.
“Sure,” Geps replies without complaint, sitting down at the table again.
“Hey.” Rhyson presses his lips to my hair and turns me toward the rear staircase. “I’ll be up in a little bit. Wait for me.”
I tip up on my toes to kiss him, say goodnight to Gep, and head up the stairs to our bedroom. The tank top I’d worn, stained with blood, is long gone. I’d washed as much as I could at the studio and thrown on some random shirt from the storage closet, but I need a shower. Even having washed earlier, traces of blood still slip away from my body and down the drain. I follow the crimson trail with my eyes until it has completely disappeared.
I finally wash off the heavy makeup from the People Magazine shoot. God, that shoot seems like it was years ago. I was answering frivolous questions about how Rhyson proposed. Being coy about the wedding date and the location, none of which we’ve even talked about. I had no idea there was someone out there incensed by our engagement. I can only assume that’s what triggered this craziness.
I stare back at my reflection. My face, scrubbed and shiny. Shadows color the skin under my eyes. I look tired. And scared.
Perfect love casts out fear.
I haven’t thought of that verse in ages. There was a little song we used to sing in Vacation Bible School to memorize it. Daddy would remind me of that verse when I had nightmares or was scared of something. In one of his sermons, he said love and fear shouldn’t occupy the same space. So many of the things I believe, that guide and comfort me, came from a man I don’t trust. A man I don’t even know anymore because he left and never looked back.
And yet . . .
I dig in the closet, rooting around through shoes and belts and dresses until I find what I’m looking for. Ella bought this t-shirt at one of Rhyson’s concerts and gave it to me as a joke. In a tiny act of defiance, I slip it on, letting it settle over my shoulders. I close my eyes, waiting for the fear, but I look down at the simple lettering and only feel peace. Whoever was behind tonight’s drama doesn’t get to win. They aren’t going to paralyze me. Perfect love does cast out fear, and if there is one thing Rhyson and I have, it’s love.
When I walk back into the bedroom, he’s seated on the edge of the bed staring off into space. I stand between his legs, waiting for his response to the shirt I’m wearing. He traces the lettering with a finger.
“Mrs. Rhyson Gray, huh?” He cracks a small smile, but his eyes remain sober.
“I will be very soon.”
“I told you that you already are.” He kisses my chin just above him. “What are we waiting for? Wanna go ahead and make it official?”
I draw back a few inches, crinkling my brow.
“It is official. We’re engaged.”
“Why wait?” He drops his eyes to his knees briefly before looking back to me. “Let’s go ahead and get married.”
My heart performs a triplet in my chest. I remind myself that he’s either joking or traumatized, and that I should calm my tits.
“We will when the time is right.” I rest my arms on his shoulders, searching his eyes. “That’s not a decision we make after a night like we’ve had.”
“It has nothing to do with what happened tonight. I don’t want a long engagement, Pep.”
“Okay. Then we won’t have one.” I kiss the corners of his mouth. “Let’s talk about it later.”
I press all my weight into him, trying to topple him back, but he doesn’t budge. I settle for rolling onto the bed and pulling him down with me, facing away from him so that he’s spooning me. He sifts strands of my hair through his fingers and buries his nose in the unruliness of it. We just lie in silence, as close as we’ve been to peaceful for hours. His arm wraps around my waist, fingers splayed over my stomach.
“So how are my two favorite girls?”
I can’t help but laugh and press my back deeper into his chest.
“We’ve talked about this.” I place my hand over his where it rests on my stomach. “It’s too early to know.”
“Oh, I know.” He pushes my hair aside to kiss my neck. “I can’t wait to hear her heartbeat and see her fingers. How do I love her so much already?”
“I know. I love her,” I glance over my shoulder and grin, “Or him already too.”
Perfect love casts out fear.
We’re avoiding the thing we have to talk about. The thing that wrecked our night and twisted me into knots for the last few hours.
“Let’s go to Vegas,” I whisper, braced for all his arguments. Prepared for a tirade. He stiffens behind me, resting his head against mine for a few seconds before gently rolling me over to face him.
“I know what Bristol said, but don’t let her—”
“It’s not Bristol.” I chuckle with little humor. “Though she does make a great point. It’s a lot to renege on when we’re just getting started.”
“I don’t give a fuck.” His words and eyes are fierce. He lifts my chin so I have to look at him. “Not one fuck. You’re all I care about. You and this baby.”
“We’ll be fine.”
“Tonight was not some random joke. That person knew where the cameras were in the parking lot. They knew to conceal their face. They went to the trouble of getting animal blood from somewhere and doing this. They—”
“I know.” I press a finger to his lips to stem the words. “Baby, I know.”
“Look at me.” He thrusts his fingers into my hair, angling my head up to meet the ferocity of his stare. “I will not lose you. Not over some stupid showcase in Vegas.”
“So we shut down our lives until we figure out who did this?” I push his hair back and shake my head. “We don’t have enough evidence. We may never know.”
“So we just wait for them to do something even worse and hope they slip up? No. I’m not risking you.”
His hollow laugh blows across my lips.
“You don’t get it. None of you do.” He closes his eyes and presses his forehead to mine. “There was a time when music and building this label meant everything to me. When all the things Bristol said down there would have persuaded me, but that’s not the case anymore.”
He looks at me, and the same fear that stared back at me in the mirror shadows his eyes.
“You think I’ll give a damn about music or Prodigy or any of it if something happens to you?” He shakes his head, looking a little haunted. “I’ve dealt with stalkers before, Kai, and I know how quickly things can escalate. And no matter how much you think you’re prepared and have all the bases covered, when someone is obsessed with you, deranged and obsessed with you, you’re all they think about. And they always manage to stay a step ahead and get too close.”
“That happened to you?” I try to keep my voice even.
He brushes hair behind my ear and searches my face for a moment before going on.
“One of them was so obsessed, she was delusional. Thought we were destined to be together.” He shakes his head and blows out a heavy breath. “It was sad, but got pretty out of control. She would pop up at the studio. She’d wait at the community gate. Wherever I was she somehow managed to be there too. That’s actually when I started with the disguises. We got a restraining order, and the police were involved every step of the way. She even went into counseling, and for a while, everything was fine. Then one day I came downstairs and she was just standing there in my kitchen holding one of the knives.”
“Oh, God, Rhys.” Even though I know he’s safe, fear chills my skin and staccatos my breath. “What happened?”
“I just tried to keep her talking.” He shakes his head. “It was only a few minutes. She didn’t realize she had tripped the alarm. It sent a silent signal to the cops before it kicked in. When the alarm started blaring, she put the knife to her wrist, but I knocked it out of her hands. We struggled a little, but I was much bigger and stronger than she was.”
His eyes go unfocused for a second like he’s standing back in that kitchen still struggling with her.
“The cops showed up really quickly,” he says, “And they took her away. I never heard anything more except that she was getting the help she needed.”
The thought of this crazy woman getting that close, finding a way inside a home I’ve always believed impenetrable, makes me feel sick.
“Could it be her?” I ask. “I mean, could she be the one who left the shirt and the message?”
“No, Gep already checked. She’s still in the facility she went to after that last incident.” He narrows his eyes. “No, this is someone else. But I can’t let my guard down like I did before. Especially not now that I have you.”
He dots kisses along my hairline and kisses my ring finger, bright with the symbol of the life we’ve chosen together.
“If anything ever happened to you because of me, Kai . . .” His convulsive gulp swallows the rest of that thought. “I couldn’t live with that. I wouldn’t . . . to even think about it—”
“Nothing’s gonna happen to me.” I lay my palm against the strong angle of his jaw. “Or to you.”
“Don’t worry about me.” He turns his lips into my palm. “I can take care of myself.”
“And I can’t take care of myself?” I rear back to chastise his double standard.
“I’m sure you could.” He smiles and lifts my left hand, caressing the band of my engagement ring. “But this says I get to take care of you now. This says you’re mine.”
“Oh, and what says you’re mine?” Some of the tension eases from my shoulders the longer we smile and whisper to each other, walling out the world.
His smile fades a little and his eyes grow more serious. He takes my hand and presses it against his chest until his heartbeat thuds into my palm like a fervent bass drum.
“This does.” He marries our fingers over his chest. “My heart and every other part of me says I’m yours. I love you, Pep, more than anything in this world.”
Perfect love casts out fear.
I don’t know why that simple phrase, like a relic from my past, gives me any confidence, but it does. We won’t run and hide from a threat we know so little about. Maybe it’s true that love and fear can’t occupy the same space. Maybe my father was right. It wouldn’t be the first time. Despite my resentment and lingering bitterness over his abandonment, I have the feeling it won’t be the last.
“Let’s go to Vegas.” I inject the fledgling confidence into my voice, into my eyes. I want him to see that I’m fearless. That I want to be with him, and no one, especially not some deranged twat with the twisted idea that he belongs to her, will keep me from being where I belong. Not just on stage, but by his side.
He searches my face, brushes a thumb over my cheekbone and sighs, resignation stealing over his face inch by inch. He sighs deeply before leaving a kiss to my forehead and pressing me to his chest.
“Okay, babe. We’ll go.”