Speak of
She tore her gaze away from the wings because fuck him, but the damage was done. The heart of the song, her heart, had been squashed like a bug, and when her voice dropped low and slow at the end, she knew she didn’t have the crowd with her.
They applauded when the lights went down, but it wasn’t deafening.
She hated that she needed that roar to drown out her doubts.
Jackie took one look at her face and made sure she was between Liana and Track as they exited the stage.
“Liana!” he called out to her, but she was into the hallway that led to the dressing rooms, and Andrew and West were making enough noise behind her that she could pretend she didn’t hear.
Jackie was talking to her, but her friend’s voice was coming from a distance. A dull roar thundered inside her head as she yanked out her in-ear monitor and handed it to one of the roadies.
She shook her head. She just needed a minute alone.
Somehow she made it to her dressing room and shut the door, sliding down it as the tears started to fall.
What the hell was going on?
When did she start losing her mind?
She scrubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes, cursing at herself under her breath. Her palms were covered in eye makeup and her face was almost definitely a mess.
She shoved to her feet and found her makeup bag, fixing as much as she could as her heart rate sped up.
It was time to go.
She shoved a few things in a bag, grabbed her purse, and headed for the door.
The hallway was full of people, but she made noises about heading to the tour bus, then kept on walking, finding a cab on the app on her phone.
The last thing she did before she told the driver to take her to the airport was send a text message to Jackie.I’m taking off for a couple of days. Going to see Hope. Don’t tell anyone where I am.
Chapter Three
Canada Day
Pine Harbour, Ontario
DEAN Foster knew betterthan to worry about his brothers.
They were all grown-ups, after all.
Gainfully employed.
Jake was even having a baby. Matt and Sean weren’t anywhere near being that adult, but they worked hard and played hard and Dean hadn’t had to take care of either of them for nearly a decade.
But you never turned off the worried older brother instincts. Not when you were all they really had.
And the tightness at the back of his neck told him something was wrong with Sean—more than the usual emotional shit that stewed in the twenty-six-year-old’s head.
He’d tried to find out what was going on when they went for a run early that morning. Sean blew him off, swore up and down it was just work stuff. So Dean asked Matt if he knew anything as they set up tables in the Pine Harbour Park for the annual BBQ.
“He’s just being moody,” Matt said, his attention on their task at hand.
“More than usual.”
“Maybe he’s getting his period.”
