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“I’m assuming you guys have worked out a plan. Care to let me in on it?” He knuckled the brim of his hat lower.
Clay gave him a nod. “We stick close. Like Jennings said, everyone is a suspect until they’re cleared.”
“We need to get her off that fucking tour bus and onto a plain, an unmarked one. It isn’t safe,” he growled.
“We’ll let that ride for now.”
He jerked his head around to fix his gaze on Clay. “For now? She’s a sitting duck in that thing with her name and face on the side like a goddamn target!”
“Which is why we’ll let it ride,” Clay said evenly. “We’re going to escort you to the next venue. Sentry will have an eye out for anyone sniffing around. Meanwhile, WEST Protection is monitoring all her emails. The FBI is doing a deep dive into her social media and running checks on every single person who’s ever worked for her.”
“Don’t bother with her personal team. I already did that.”
Clay bobbed his head. “I know that. So the next step is to carry on as planned. Avalynn Ray performs tonight. Her schedule stays the same. Her routine too.”
“Shit—her routine.” The last note of her sound check had carried through the stadium at least two minutes ago. “I gotta wrap this meeting up. I have to bring her water for enhancing her voice. And grapefruit juice.”
Jennings flashed that grin that always put Julius on edge, since he could guess what was coming. Sure enough, Jennings’s teasing drawl followed a split second later. “You’re crushin’ on your ward, big brother.”
He leveled a scowl on him. “You know better.”
“I would…except I never thought I’d see the day you play fetch. Are you the water boy during her concerts too?”
Stepping back, he broke from the group. “I like making things more comfortable for her. It’s just how we operate, and Clay just said to stick to the routine.”
He strode toward the short run of stairs leading onto the stage, hoping Lark had Avalynn waiting for him.
“You didn’t do this for that football player!” Jennings called after him. Several chuckles trailed behind him as he mounted the steps.
He swept his gaze over the open arena. Avalynn and Lark stood off to the side, talking. He immediately assessed Avalynn’s body language. She wasn’t exactly relaxed, but she wasn’t smiling a bit too brightly like she did when speaking to a reporter or fans. She was wary.
In time, Lark would win her over the same way she had Clay despite how grumpy he usually was.
As if she sensed him standing there, Avalynn looked up.
Their gazes locked.
Relief washed over her lovely face. He saw her chest rise on an intake of air.
“I got it from here, Lark,” he roughed out, reaching for Avalynn. Now that he was closer to her, he felt hot anxiety rolling off her in thick waves. But the instant that his hand met her lower back, she relaxed into the safety of his touch.
* * * * *
Avalynn had talked to a lot of people in her life. From the time her first album hit the charts, everyone vied for her time. After those first death threats came in, the authorities got involved, and she talked to them too.
Her former bodyguard wasn’t enough, the authorities told her. But they knew a guy.
Julius came on board, and over time, she left her safety up to him and concentrated on her career again.
Now a team from the FBI was just outside her tour bus, asking for a few minutes of her time.
She stared at the closed door, dread rolling over her.
“Avalynn.” Julius’s deep voice pitched low.
She didn’t turn to look at him standing behind her.
He moved closer. “I promise they won’t bite. That redhead you were talking to onstage—she’s part of their team, and she wasn’t remotely scary, was she?”
