Linc lifts his beer in a toast to my declaration.
Aiden chain-smokes another cigarette, staring at the clock.
With growing worry and no other options, we call the security team. They’ve scarcely finished dealing with my last crisis when I shove a new one into their laps.
“Ryder’s missing,” I say as soon as York and Stevens step through the door. “He hasn’t been here for over an hour. I’m worried something might’ve happened to him.”
The guards trade a meaningful glance.
“What?” I snap. “What is it? Is he okay? Did my father— Did something happen?”
“No, Miss Wilde.” York’s eyes are steady on mine. “Mr. Woods is fine. He was away from the hotel during the incident. Smith is with him. He’s told us to assure you all that he will be at the venue, as scheduled.”
I blow out a breath, relief flooding me. “Oh. So… he’s okay? He’s not hurt or maimed or lying in a ditch somewhere?”
“Not last I checked, ma’am.” Stevens’ eyes gleam. “But if you’d like us to check in with Smith for a status update, we’re happy to do so.”
“That won’t be necessary.” I blow out a breath and plop down on the sofa, my body going limp as tension leaves me. “I’m glad he’s okay. In fact, I’m glad he wasn’t here. If he’d seen my father…” I shake my head. “He probably would’ve killed him.”
Linc snorts. “Tortured. Then killed. In that order.”
“Verbally berated. Then tortured. Then killed,” Aiden amends. “Inthatorder.”
I sigh, but don’t disagree with their somewhat dark assessment. York and Stevens are fading toward the door when I call them back.
“Does Ryder know about what happened yet?” I ask. “Did Smith tell him?”
“No, ma’am.” York’s eyes are intent. “We thought we’d leave that to you. But if you’d like us to call him—”
“No!” I exclaim sharply, making everyone jump. I mellow my tone. “No. I think, honestly, it’s best if we wait to tell him about this until after the show.” I glance around at Linc, Aiden, and Carly. “Otherwise, he’s just going to flip out. And the show…”
“He won’t play,” Carly murmurs.
“If I know Ry, he’ll blow a fucking gasket when he hears.” Linc winces. “Still, I don’t like lying to him.”
“Not lying,” Aiden murmurs. “Delaying the truth until a more opportune moment.”
“So,lying,” Linc says bluntly.
“It’s a sold-out show. In New York City. At Madison Square Garden.” Aiden’s tone never rises, but his words carry weight. “We’d be insane to cancel two hours beforehand. We’d be insane to cancel,period.”
Lincoln grits his teeth, but doesn’t disagree.
“We all have to be on the same page, here.” I blink at the boys. “So? Do we wait to tell him?”
They both glance at me for a long moment, then nod.
“We wait.”
* * *
Standing in the dark backstage,I adjust my sparkly dress one last time and try to breathe. I can hear the swelling applause as the lights begin to dim. The crowd is growing increasingly restless as they wait for us to start — we were supposed to be out there fifteen minutes ago.
“Where the fuck is he?” Aiden mutters, looking like he’s about to blow a gasket.
“He’ll be here,” Carly says, her tone soothing. Without thinking, she reaches out and puts her hand on Aiden’s arm. As soon as their skin brushes, they both leap apart. Carly mutters something about checking the dressing rooms as she hurries away, cheeks aflame.
I watch her go, brows raised.