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Guess Jackson’s over his earlier snit.

“That might still happen,” I assure him. “But he needs to tell you who was involved, first.”

“Well, fuck.” Jackson rocks back on his heels. “The manager?”

“Nope. Dawson’s ex.”

He stares at me for a long moment. Long enough that I start to wonder if he already suspected Glenna Wilson. “Shit. Was Dawson in on it too?”

“I don’t think so. Sounds more like she was pumping Dawson for information under the guise of a reunion, then fed that info to Suggs.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jackson cocks his head and stares at the sky for a few seconds. “I looked into her. Something didn’t smell right, but she’s a high-profile gal. Been in the business for a long time. Lot of people around her.”

“What are you trying to say? She’s untouchable?”

“More or less.” He pins me with the hard eyes of a cop who’s seen justice perverted one too many times. “It could get ugly for Shelby.”

Unfortunately, that thought has already occurred to me.

“How sure are you that she hasn’t had a fling with Dawson?” Jackson asks.

“Hundred percent,” I growl. Shelby wouldn’t have kept something like that from me. “Even if she did—which she absolutely did not—it’s irrelevant.”

“Won’t matter. Press will paint her as the Jezebel of country music.”

“You an expert on the music scene now too?” Ice asks.

“Let me talk to Dawson and Greg,” I say, cutting them off before they start a new round of trying to out-piss each other. “I’m not going to stress Shelby out with this stuff right now.”

“I’m booking him with kidnapping, arson, assault and battery, and whatever else I can come up with. He won’t see daylight anytime soon,” Jackson assures me.

“Good.”

Ice glances over at the cop car. “You should’ve worked him over a little more, Rooster. A weakling like him won’t last long inside.”

Regret squeezes the air from my lungs. I should’ve ended Suggs.Who knows when I’ll have the chance again.

Chapter Twelve

Rooster

Uncertain about turning Suggs over to the cops and unsure who’s the best person to ask for advice, I stalk into the hospital.

On Shelby’s floor, I run into Greg. Somehow he’s even more disheveled than he was when I left.

“It’s breaking. The story’s all over the place now. Even made it to cable news.” He points at the small television in the waiting room. “They haven’t released the name of the hospital, so at least she won’t get mobbed here, but it’s only a matter of time.”

“My brothers won’t let anyone near Shelby.”

Greg doesn’t exactly seem thrilled by that plan. Too bad. He better get used to lots more Lost Kings providing Shelby’s security for the rest of the tour.

My phone buzzes. Shit, I hope Shelby’s mom isn’t having any problems at the airport.

But it’s an unknown number with a 716 area code. Western New York. “Give me a minute, Greg.” I step into the stairwell and answer the call. “Yeah?”

“Rooster?”

“Who’s this?” I have my suspicions but I want to be sure.

“Chaser.”

I blow out a breath. “Hey.”

“I heard about Shelby. She all right?”

“I think so. I’m still at the hospital with her.”

“They catch the guy?”

“Something like that.”

He chuckles. “Not gonna ask.”

“Feds have him now.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yeah.”

“You need anything? Anything we can do to help?”

Although I’m not really sure what assistance Chaser’s club can give me, I appreciate the offer. “Thanks.”

“No sweat. Don’t ever hesitate to call me.” He waits a beat or two before continuing. “So, was this a random stalker?”

“Yeah, he’s a fucking loon. Started out sending her these crazy letters and it escalated from there.” I don’t have it in me to get into the whole story over the phone.

“Fuck, brother. Been there. Nothing quite this awful,” he hurries to add.

I almost forgot about his and Mallory’s Hollywood ties for a second. Maybe he’ll have some useful advice. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

I lean over the railing, checking no one’s in the stairwell. “You know how she’s out on tour with Dawson Roads?”

“Tell me he wasn’t involved.” The rumbling menace in his voice comes through loud and clear.

“No. Not him. I don’t think so, anyway. But his ex-girlfriend.”

“Glenna Wilson?” He whistles low and long. “Shit. Seriously? They had an ugly breakup or something recently. And before you ask, it was all over some blog my daughter reads. She told me all about it after we ran into you guys.”

I smother a laugh. “I don’t know much about it, other than what Shelby said. But somehow Dawson’s ex contacted this crackpot when she noticed him commenting on all of Shelby’s Instagram posts or some shit.”

“Christ, that’s fucking weird.”

“It’s totally fucked.”

“What’s your question?”

“The agent in charge seems to think if they go after her, it could blow back on Shelby. Somehow make her look bad. Fuck with her career since she’s so new and this woman is more established. Honestly, I was concerned about that before he even said it.”


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