Chapter Twelve
Kenna
"Hey." Riley slides into the seat beside me at the arena. "You ready for tomorrow?"
"No."
She squeezes my arm. "You're going to do amazing."
I wish that were my only worry.
Ha. I wish that were my biggest worry. It's not even close.
"Someone broke into my apartment last night." I keep my voice pitched low so no one else overhears. She knows what's going on because Gideon told her. I'm kind of glad someone else knows. I didn't realize how heavy all of this was until I didn't have to keep it to myself any longer. "I don't know what they left, but Gideon is freaked about it."
He thinks I don't know, but I'm not blind. I see what's going on right in front of me. There are cops crawling all over the arena. He's been on his phone, whispering since we got here. He won't let me out of his sight. Something changed last night. He's scared. I feel it.
But he doesn't want me to know whatever was left behind, so I'm not asking. He has his job to do, and I have mine. If I focus on all the bad things right now, I'm not sure I'll make it through tomorrow. This is the biggest show I've ever done. There will be thousands of people here. I'm performing beside some of the biggest stars in Nashville.
I have to get this right.
"I'm sorry," Riley says, empathy welling in her eyes. "One of the hardest things about this job is how alone you feel sometimes, especially when things like this happen. Not many people understand how isolating this job can be. It's even worse when you're being targeted, and you realize just how tiny the pool of people you can trust with anything really is. But I want you to remember that you aren't alone. If you ever need someone to talk to about any of this, call me. I know people who have gone through the same kind of things. They'd be happy to talk to you."
"Thank you," I whisper, grateful as hell that I have her and her team in my corner now. Already, she's been a Godsend. And I know how fortunate I am because Riley doesn't take on many clients anymore. But because of everything going on with John and the stalker situation, she signed me personally. I owe Gideon so much for this alone.
"I know you've got Gideon here, but he won't be the only one you can count on tomorrow," she says. "I've hired extra security to make sure that you're protected. Do you have time to meet them?"
"Um, yes."
She grins, popping up and holding out her hand to me.
I take it, allowing her to pull me to my feet as I wave Gideon over.
"What's up, Sparrow?"
"Riley wants us to meet the security team she hired to help protect me tomorrow."
He nods, falling into step beside us.
She leads the way across the arena to a group of men nearly as big as Gideon.
"Gentleman," Riley says, calling them to attention. "I'd like you to meet Kenna Maxwell. She's the star you'll be protecting tomorrow. And this is Gideon Carmichael. You'll take your orders from him."
"Kenna, Gideon, this is Ronan Gallagher."
A behemoth with hard eyes and a kind smile steps forward. "It's nice to meet you, Kenna." He lifts his chin at Gideon. "Gideon."
"Hi, Ronan," I murmur.
"Ronan," Gideon says.
Riley quickly introduces the other four men working with Ronan. They step forward when she says their names, nod at me, and then step back into line. I think they're all former military. They certainly seem like it.
"What's the situation?" Ronan asks once the introductions are done.
"Stalker," Gideon growls, cutting his eyes in my direction. "Possibly two. We believe one is John Ballentine, her former manager. I'll have a photo for you shortly. We're still working to identify the second. No one is to get near her without my clearance. I don't care if they claim to be her mother. Unless I say it's okay, they don't get close tomorrow."
"What's the play if we spot the former manager?"
"I want him on his back with your boot on his neck. Make it hurt, but don't kill him. I get to do that."
"I think we can manage that." Ronan grins. "Anything else we need to know?"
Gideon glances at me again, hesitating.
"Just tell them, Gideon. I already know it's bad."
He lifts his gaze to the ceiling, muttering a curse. "They're threatening to kill her tomorrow."
My stomach churns. I kind of figured that was the case, but having it confirmed sucks.
"Jesus," Ronan mutters. "And you're still going to let her perform?"
"I'd rather have her here in front of thousands of potential witnesses who will walk through metal detectors and be searched than at home in front of none," Gideon growls. "At least here, there's a chance that we can stop them. They've already demonstrated they can get to her at home. They walked into her apartment with her inside last night."
"Fuck." Ronan's eyes widen.
"Any other questions?" Gideon asks him.
"Not at the moment. Just send that picture over when you get it. I'll check in later for any updates."
Gideon jerks his head in a nod and then glances at Riley. "You good?"
"Yeah." She gives him a sympathetic smile. "You guys go."
He grabs my hand, pulling me out into the hallway. As soon as we come across an empty room, he ducks into it, pulling me inside with him. The room is piled high with hockey equipment. It's some sort of storage room. His arms surround me, allowing me to pull in my first deep breath in hours.
"Talk to me, Sparrow."
"And say what?"
"Anything. Whatever you're thinking."
"I'm not dying tomorrow."
"You're damn right you're not."
"What did he leave, Gideon?"
He doesn't say anything.
"I know it was something. You've been freaked out since last night." I pull back to look at him. "You're scared."
"A psycho is threatening to kill the woman I love. Yeah, I'm scared, Sparrow. I've never been more afraid of anything than I am of what might happen tomorrow." He exhales a breath. "But I'm not losing you. That's not an option. And I'm not telling you what he left, either. You don't need to know. You carry enough already. I'm carrying this one for you, Kenna."
"Promise me something."
"Anything you want, baby."
"Never stop loving me the way you do."
His fingers curve around my jaw as he tips my head back, his lips brushing mine. "Not ever, Sparrow."
We barely make it through the front door with takeout bags before his phone starts ringing. It's already been a long day and I still have to be at the studio to record the final track for the album in two hours.
"Fuck my life," Gideon growls when he sees Zayne's number flash across the display. "I need to take this, Sparrow. Zion may be in jail."
"Jail?" I blink wide eyes at him. "Your family is way more interesting than my family, Gideon."
"You can have both brothers for free. I've been trying to get rid of them for years."
I shake my head, fighting a smile. "Why is Zion possibly in jail?"
"It's a long story. I'll tell you after I talk to Zayne."
I shrug and take the food bags from him to carry them into his kitchen. His place is a lot bigger than mine. I don't think I realized how much money Gideon makes until I saw this place. It's freaking massive. But he was just as content in my tiny one-bedroom apartment as he is here. I love that about him.
I also love this house. It's beautiful, with a spacious, open floor plan and tons of natural light. He built it himself. Well, he designed it. Someone else built it. He doesn't have the patience for construction. The house is nestled in the woods at the end of little neighborhood of ritzy homes. It's quiet and peaceful, a lot different from Music Row.
"What the fuck?" Gideon roars. "What do you mean, Zion's been shot?"
No. Oh, no.
I drop the bags on the table, racing back to the living room to see him gripping the back of the couch, his face white as a sheet. I run to his side, wrapping my arms around him.
He looks like he's going to pass out.
My heart hurts for him. He's been here before. Zion's been shot before. I can only imagine how he feels right now, hearing that it's happened again. He adores his brothers, even though they give each other nine kinds of hell. I think he'd walk through fire for them if they needed him to do it. They're close, as close as me and Kane.
"When?" he growls into the phone.
I can't hear what Zayne's saying, but he's talking a mile a minute.
"Jesus Christ. I'm on my way." Gideon chokes up. "He better not fucking die, Zayne."
Zayne says something else and then Gideon drops the phone.
"Gideon, I'm so sorry."
He grabs me, holding onto me for dear life.
"Fuck, Sparrow," he rasps, his voice raw with emotion. "I can't do this shit again. We can't lose him. He's my brother."
"Go. You have to go."
"I can't leave you here alone."
"Yes, you can. He's your brother. Right now, that's where you need to be. I'll call Kane and ask him to come to the studio with me. But you have to go." I press my palm to his cheek. "He needs you."
He shudders in my arms and then presses a hard kiss to my lips. "Don't leave this house without Kane," he orders me.
"I won't. I promise."
He pulls me up against his chest again, holding me tight. "I love you, Kenna."
"I love you too, Gideon."
He lingers for another moment, and then he's gone, racing out the door to get to his brother. I send up a quick prayer, hoping that God is answering today. He can't lose Zion. It'll destroy him.
I retrace my steps to the kitchen, put our food in the fridge, and then call Kane.
It takes him a minute to answer.
"Unless this is an emergency, I can't talk," he says. "We're at Maya's appointment."
"Oh no!" I cry. "I forgot about her appointment." It's her first ultrasound. She's been so excited about it. I can't believe I forgot. "I'm so sorry."
"It's okay. You've got a lot going on. Can I call you afterward?"
"Can you come to Gideon's when you're finished?"
"Why? What's wrong?"
"His brother was shot. He just had to rush to the hospital."
"Jesus Christ," he breathes. "Is he okay?"
"I don't know," I whisper, staring out into the backyard. "I don't think so. It sounds kind of bad."
"Damn. What happened?"
"I don't know."
"Why didn't you go with him?"
"I have to be at the studio to record the last track in a couple of hours," I remind him, pacing through the kitchen into the living room. I'm restless, anxious, and worried. "And I really didn't want to be a distraction. They need to be focused on Zion, not worrying about whether or not some psycho stalker is going to show up at the hospital to murder me."
"No one is going to murder you," my brother growls.
I curl up on the couch, dragging a comfy throw blanket over my legs. "Can you hang out at the studio with me until I'm finished recording?"
"Yeah. I'll be there as soon as we're done here. Until then, don't even think about leaving that house."
I roll my eyes. "Do you and Gideon practice your lines with each other or something?"
"No. Why?"
"Because you say the same exact crap," I grumble.
"Just stay in the house, Kenna. I'll be there as soon as I can. And keep me posted on Zion."
"Okay. I will. Love you." I drop the phone beside me and lean my head back, closing my eyes. I'm so freaking tired. I barely slept last night. Every time I closed my eyes, I thought I heard something. When I did finally fall asleep, it wasn't restful. I felt like something was hunting me. Perhaps because it is. Except, it's not something; it's someone. And somehow, that's far worse.
People are far more dangerous and unpredictable than any monster could ever be. We have will, motive, and malice. We don't hurt, destroy, and break because it's our nature. We do it for fun. That's far, far worse than beasts or monsters, who are what they are by nature. We have a choice, but evil always thrives on making the wrong one.
I think I drift off because the next thing I know, the front door creaks open.
"Kane?" I sit upright, rubbing sleep from my eyes. My head is heavy, my mind sluggish. I feel like I've both been asleep for a week and no time at all. How long was I out? "Is that you?"
He comes around the side of the door, pushing it closed behind him.
Then and only then do I realize that it isn't my brother.
"Clive?" I whisper, my heart slamming against my ribcage as Clive Rucker stares down at me, a knife in his hands.
"I'm sorry, Kenna," he says, his tone apologetic. "But you have to come with me."
"I I don't understand. You're the one behind all of this? You?"
He motions with the knife for me to get up. "On your feet, Kenna. We've got to go."