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“What?” I stumbled backward.
“Mr. Bale, there were a series of disturbances last night, and a breach of security. Everything was well orchestrated, sir, and as lead security, I take full responsibility.”
“What are you saying? What. Are. You. Saying?” The repeated phrase grew in volume as I pounded my palm against the wall.
He hesitated before delivering the news that broke me. “Sir, your daughter is missing.”
I slammed my fists into the wall until four others appeared behind me. “He’s dead,” I swore as they wrestled me to the ground while I screamed the deadly promise until I had no voice left.
***
“What do you mean you took a sleeping pill?”
After I’d told the rest of the band what happened, they drove me to the closest airport. I’d flown straight from Albuquerque to Los Angeles in an hour and forty minutes.
Fuck Circa Records, and fuck the concerts. If the band kicked me out, I didn’t give a shit. If I lost my contract, I didn’t give a shit.
My daughter is gone.
As the cab pulled into the driveway, I dodged a lawn full of paparazzi, television reporters, and every squad car in LA County. It was a media circus, and we were the main attraction. Thank god I had the forethought to have Ryker call Mom. The tabloid frenzy in front of my house would be front page news by the evening edition.
“Julian, you don’t understand.” Phoebe wiped blotchy tears running down her face. “You’ve been gone. I was exhausted and run down. I didn’t know what day it was.”
“So you decided drugs would make it better?” I was being an asshole, but I wanted someone to blame. I wanted to hit something. I didn’t know what I wanted, but I knew if I’d been here, I could’ve stopped it.
But I wasn’t.
“It wasn’t drugs!” she yelled, standing up and glaring. “Faith gave me a sleeping pill so I wouldn’t be a zombie. Somebody had to take care of your daughter. You weren’t here to do it.”
“Where was I, Phoebe?” I yelled back, stalking forward and forcing her to back up. “I was on the road in a goddamn tour bus paying for all this,” I motioned to the security guards crawling around the house, “because your family is fucking psycho!” She recoiled like I’d slapped her. I immediately regretted my words, but I couldn’t take them back. The look in her eyes gutted me. “Phoebe.” I reached for her, but she backed away.
“Don’t.” She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her chest. “Just don’t.” She ran from the room with tears streaming.
“Shit.” I made a move to follow her when a strong hand grabbed my arm.
“Let her go, sir.” Everson stood beside me, his military shaved head nodding reassuringly. He wasn’t my favorite person at the moment, so I shrugged out of his grasp.
“What I say to my wife doesn’t concern you, Everson. I pay you to guard, not offer opinions. You’re lucky you’re still in my house right now.”
“Julian…”
I turned my attention to the blond standing behind him and exploded. “You gave her a sleeping pill? Faith, where’s your goddamn brain?”
Faith jumped, stunned by my outburst. “You didn’t see her, Julian. She was a wreck.”
“She’s a mother. Mothers don’t dope up.”
“You don’t understand…”
“What did you give her that knocked her out for thirteen hours?” I demanded. I’d had it with excuses. Excuses wouldn’t bring my daughter home.
“I-I don’t know,” she stammered. “Zane gave them to me.” She cupped her mouth and nose with both hands as she backed away. As we moved fluidly across the carpet, I was reminded of a hazy night in a hotel room not long ago.
“Good night, Jagger.”
“I’m not sleepy.”
“You’ll be out in less than five minutes.”
