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“But they didn’t, did they?”
I release a harsh sigh at his persistence. “No. Then they sent me black flowers with a not very nice message.”
“So, don’t you think it would have been a good idea not to go eating random things sent to you.” The aggravation in his voice pisses me off.
“I’m sorry I made a mistake,” I snap, straightening my back and squaring my shoulders. “I don’t find the bad in everything, Max. I don’t go around questioning life, living in fear. It’s not like I don’t have a security team. I never thought someone could get to me.”
The chair scrapes across the shiny floor as he pops up and paces the room. The internal conversation he’s having with himself is clear by the shaking of his head and the clenching of his fists, the muted growls. He wants to tell me I should. But that’s not me.
Finally, he talks himself down and leans against the wall, arms crossed. “I’m sorry.” His gaze drops to the floor, shifting his feet. “Someone shouldn’t have been able to get to you.” Leave it to Max to take responsibility.
The brown wooden door swings open and Graham walks in with a couple uniformed officers. Max pushes off the wall and shakes hands with them.
“Oh, sweet cheeks, am I happy to see you not throwing up.” He glides over and wraps me in his arms. “Even though you still look like shit.”
“Hey, at least I’m alive,” I tease, then wince when I regret the words. It’s not a laughing matter. I shoot a glance at Max and by his scowl, he agrees.
Graham pushes back, his hands grip my shoulders, and he glares at me. “That. Is. Not. Funny.”
Okay, so I won’t win an Academy for Comedian of the Year.
“I’m disgusted that whoever did this used my note to trick you.”
Snapping my finger, I point at him. “That was a note from you then.” I jerk my head at Max, lifting a brow, but direct my attention back to Graham so he can’t rebuke my smug expression.
“It was. I left it for you during the last show. Was that the first time you saw it?”
I nod, fear prickling my body, a frightening realization washing over me. Whoever did this is close to me.
“Ms. Owen, do you mind if we ask you some questions?” The officer steps to the end of my bed and pulls a notepad out of his front pocket.
It’s official.
I have a stalker.
They tried to kill me last night.
“Ricin?” I jolt upright in my bed. I’ve been waiting all day to hear something. “Isn’t that what people send in the mail and is crazy dangerous to touch?” Max nods with a death grip on the rail to the side of me, his knuckles white. “How does someone even get a hold of something like that?”
“There are ways,” Max replies dryly.
“I’m just glad they pumped your stomach. Hopefully, they got it out of your system without damaging things internally.” Graham stands on the other side of my bed, holding my hand.
“Yeah. Me too.” Although, the moment of having my stomach pumped, I had wished for death from the poison. That is one experience I never want to have again. Graham breaks the bad news that I’m stuck here for four days under observation.
“I’m so sorry. I let everyone on the tour down.” Tears well up in my eyes, the emotions of everything building up inside me. Between Shane and now this, maybe the universe is telling me I’m not supposed to be a singer.
“Stop it. Right now. This isn’t your fault.” Graham squeezes my hand and the bed dips as he sits down beside me. “Jude is furious someone was able to access you. He’s setting up more security.”
“He wants me back?” I sniff, rubbing the tears off my cheek with my fingers. “What about Preston? He probably doesn’t want to deal with all of this while he’s on tour.”
“The team met this afternoon. They want you there. They’re afraid you’ll not want to come back.”
The decision to stay is mine? How is that even possible? I’m the opening act. I’m replaceable as quick as the polish on my nails. The thought of returning to the tour excites me, yet scares me at the same time.
“Nobody has stated the obvious, everyone is skirting around the fact that my stalker might very well be someone on staff.”
“That’s where I come in,” Max states. My eyes dart between Max and Graham, wondering what plan they have concocted without me.
