That’s when it hits me.
It isn’t that she just decided not to come.
Something’s happened.
Something’swrong.
“One of you had better tell me what the hell is going on right fucking now.”
Johanna stares daggers at Jake.
“You tell him,” she seethes. “You’re the one who wanted to wait.”
Jake shifts, dragging a hand down his face like it physically pains him to be the one who has to say it.
“She was coming,” he says quietly. “She was on her way here from the airport.”
I blink. “Come on, man. What?”
“She didn’t tell any of us she was coming,” Rylee adds, her voice barely audible. “I guess she wanted to surprise you. She was trying to make it.”
My throat tightens. They’re killing me with this.
“Where is she then? Did she change her mind when she got here or something?”
Jake can’t meet my eyes.
“There was an accident, Gray,” Johanna says finally, stepping forward to rest her hand on my arm. “Paparazzi chased her in the rental car from the airport. They ran her off the road, and the car rolled.”
It’s like all the air has physically left my lungs. Everything in me stops.
No.
She’s okay.
She’s waiting in the dressing room. This is all just a really sick joke.
“She was unconscious when they found her,” Jake says. “They took her to a trauma center just down the street from here. That’s all we know.”
I stumble back a step.
A fuckingtraumacenter?
“Wait,” I say. “What did Joey mean when she saidyouwanted to wait? How long have you known?"
If I missed another life-altering call because I’d been on stageagain—I’m going to lose my fucking mind.
“Gray…” Johanna starts.
“How fucking long?” I roar, loud enough to make them all flinch.
Jake looks down again, jaw tight. “Johanna got the call duringFallout.”
I sway on my feet, ready to collapse.Falloutwas halfway through the set.
I played another fucking half before anyone had bothered to tell me.
“You knew,” I say slowly, the resentment dripping off my tongue. “Youknewand not one of you had the good goddamn sense to pull me off stage?”
