27. Rae
27
RAE
B y the time I head to La Mer, I’m so amped up I could explode.
“Don’t worry about us,” Annie insists. “The nanny is looking after the baby here. We’ll be over in a car closer to the start time of your show.”
I hug each of my friends in turn.
Toro insists on driving me, and Harrison holds the back door.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he shifts inside.
“Going with you.”
I’m grateful to have his presence.
We drive over in silence. There’s so much to be said, but given the amount of our relationship devoted to banter and argument, the quiet is too precious to break.
When we arrive, Harrison kisses me hard. I don’t think he’s going to let me go, but finally he pulls back.
“I’ve got your back. We all do,” he murmurs against my lips.
I nod.
At the back entrance, I get out. My security followed us in another car, and they come with me.
I’ve always wanted to be here, and now I am. The club is huge and empty, but as we wind through the halls, it occurs to me that tonight it’s mine.
Not Mischa’s, not even Harrison’s.
You can’t buy a feeling. Can’t own an emotion.
No matter what happens beyond the dance floor, I can give the people on it everything I am.
The prep is a blur. I catch Eva’s eye once, in the hall outside the green room, but don’t see Mischa.
I get on stage as the lighting tech cuts everything to black.
There’s nothing but the energy of the crowd. A pulsing, throbbing beat.
It’s my heart.
When I lift my headphones onto my ears, I focus on what I can do—my set.
From the first chords of my opening track of the night, the crowd erupts. The lights come up, and they see me and I see them.
This is what I wanted, and nothing can take tonight away from me.
It’s my job to hold them in my hands. To take them on a journey, to keep them safe and entertained and away from whatever’s going on behind closed doors.
I lose myself.
It’s the end of my set when my phone lights up.
Harrison: There’s a problem. The deal’s supposed to be going down, but the cameras haven’t shown Mischa setting foot near his office.
Shit.
I scan the venue from my bird’s-eye view on stage. Nothing.
Rae: Maybe it’s not happening tonight.
Harrison: She said it was.
“She” meaning Eva.
Did she cross us? I could see her fucking with me, but not Harrison.
If she did…
My blood runs cold.
Rae: He has to be around.
My set wraps up, and I head back to the green room, muttering to security about needing to unwind in private. Then I call a number.
A few minutes later, the blond woman slips into my room. I whirl to face her.
“You set us up. Where is he?” I demand.
Eva cuts a look down the hall. “VIP. The deal moved.”
“The cameras didn’t show him going in there.”
“There’s another entrance.”
“Did you tell the police? Harrison?”
“No.”
I hit Harrison’s number.
“It’s in the VIP room,” I bite out when he answers.
He exhales tightly. “They won’t move without visual confirmation of what’s happening in there. Sawyer’s cameras don’t include the VIP.”
This is bad. There’s no way to get eyes into that room. If they don’t act now, who knows when there will be another chance.
I press a hand to my stomach, sweat still sticking my clothes to my skin. My fingers brush the smooth buttons of my tailored vest. One is smooth. One has a slight bump.
I glance down at the camera. “Harrison? Did Sawyer get the feed from my show?”
“I’ll check.” Pause. “Yes. Why?”
I look at Eva. Her pretty face has healed from what Mischa did to it, but I can’t forget how the bruises looked under her skin.
I know what it is to have someone take from me in a way that’s unforgivable. To not only violate me but make me question myself. The doubt, the fear, the need to get out of my own skin because it doesn’t feel safe.
This time, I know where the danger lies. And it’s more imminent, more treacherous, than any I’ve walked into before.
But on the other side is safety for the people like the woman who died at Bliss, the ones who would be harmed by Mischa’s empire. It’s for the people I love, the ones who’d do anything for me.
I never used to believe in that kind of loyalty and devotion.
Now, I do. I’m not afraid of it.
The phone at my ear, I say to Eva, “Get me into the VIP room.”
“I can get you in, but I can’t get you out,” Eva says.
I don’t trust her for a second. But I trust the man on the other end of the phone. And my friends.
“Harrison…” I murmur into the microphone.
“Raegan, don’t even fucking think about it.“ The panic in his voice makes me swallow hard.
“I need to tell you?—“
“We have to go.” Eva grabs the phone and clicks off.
As I follow Eva to the hall, blood pounding in my ears, all I can think is I hope he knows I love him.