Page 102 of Cadence
“Paige. She…” He steps back, voice trembling. “Something’s wrong.”
My eyes dart to where she was standing, the space now empty, and my world narrows. Worry and panic try to seize my lungs as I follow Eli down a dim corridor, my boots pounding against the hardwood, eachboomlike a countdown. I’ve never moved this fast and still felt like I’m losing time.
Shadows gather around three figures up ahead, and I recognize two instantly. Beau’s struggling under Paige’s weight, trying to keep her upright. But she’s limp, head rolling against his shoulder, arms hanging dead.
My breath catches, and I bolt.
“What the fuck happened?” I shout, scanning every inch of her body.
Beau’s voice shakes. “She was fine. I turned to pay for the drinks and—”
I spin. The guy from the bar—the fucking lumberjack—is hovering nearby, hands up, something flashing in his eyes that makes my skin crawl.
“I didn’t do anything, man. She came on to me—”
I don’t remember lunging, or the first crunch of my fist slamming into his face. Rage explodes, coloring the edge ofmy vision red, one hand coiled tight in his shirt, the other hammering blow after blow, shoving him against the wall.
“Enough!”
I’m yanked back, arms pinned by someone twice my size, the Scottish accent thick and sharp as steel. Lockie, Reign’s bodyguard, shoves me aside with his iron grip, teeth bared as he thrusts a finger at me.
“Touch him again andyou’rethe one ending up in cuffs,” he growls. “Not this asshole.”
“Look at her,” I yell, throwing my hand in Paige’s direction. “He’s done something to her.”
Lockie’s face hardens before he turns, snuffing out the distance between him and the creep in two steps, yanking on the lapel of his jacket and searching through his inside pocket.
“Hey, what are you—”
Holding up a small plastic bag, I lunge for the guy again as soon as I see the small white pills between Lockie’s fingers. But Reign’s bodyguard is quicker, smacking his other hand hard against my solar plexus, stealing the air in my lungs.
“Someone hold him,” he growls, glaring at my bandmates behind me. “You”—he glares at an onlooker at the end of the hallway—“call security.” He’s calm authority now, alert and locked into bodyguard mode. “No one touches this piece of shit until the cops get here. Am I understood?”
He turns to Reign, voice lower, gentler. “Cooper, back to the VIP section. Let me handle this.”
“No fucking way,” Reign snaps, lip curling. “Not when she’s one of ours.”
Lockie huffs, nods once, and pushes Reign behind him, guarding his flank.
“Eli, grab a couple of my guys. Now. Beau, keep her upright. Don’t let her fall asleep.”
“I’ve got her,” Beau murmurs, cradling her like she’s fragile. “I’m not letting go.”
Paige’s head lolls to the other side, her lashes fluttering. I crouch beside her, bleeding knuckles forgotten, brushing damp hair from her face. She’s warm, but not warm enough. Breathing, but not steady. And all I can think is that I should’ve been there, watching her back, never letting her out of my sight.
“Hey,” I whisper. “C’mon, baby. Open those pretty eyes for me.”
For a second, they do. A flicker of blue barely visible. My thumb grazes her cheek, trying to keep it together while around us, chaos descends; Lockie barking orders, Reign on the phone, Eli rushing back with Lockie’s guys. The asshole who drugged her is still whining about some “misunderstanding.”
None of it matters. Only she does.
Reign appears beside me, hand settling on my shoulder.
“Let’s get her to the hotel, Knox. Take my suite. The tour doc’ll meet you there.”
He pulls out his phone, lifting it to his ear, but I barely move.
“I should stay,” I murmur, glancing at Beau. “I should make sure he–”
