Rescue (Ransom Book 5)

by Rachel Schurig

  You’re not in the house, I tell myself desperately. You’re outside. You’re okay.

  But Lennon is pulling on my arm, and I don’t feel like I’m okay. He’s stronger than me, bigger, and I feel like I’m about to lose it, like I’m seconds away from falling to the ground. Cowering in a ball sounds really good right now and—

  “Haylee!”

  That voice isn’t Lennon’s. I spin, panicked, and there’s James, coming toward me. I’m so relieved I could cry. He throws his arm around my shoulders, and my face automatically goes to his chest, the same place I’ve found refuge countless times before. “I got you,” he whispers into my hair, pulling me along. I’m vaguely aware that Lennon has released me, but I have no idea where he is, only that James is here now and he’s pulling me into a car, pulling me to safety. The door closes behind us, and the sound dims a little.

  “You’re okay,” he says. “I’ve got you.”

  “Who else is here?” I whisper into his jacket, not wanting to look up, terrified all over again that Louis will see me like this or, God, the Ransomes—

  “Just Dylan and Layla,” James says, and I release a shuddering breath. They’ve seen it before.

  “You’re fine, Haylee,” James says, and I hear Dylan say something to the driver. Then we’re pulling away from the curb, away from the crowd that continues to scream. Away from Lennon.

  I didn’t hear where Dylan told the driver to go, but it doesn’t matter. I know that we’re not going out tonight after all.

  Chapter Eight

  Lennon

  For a guy who has a well-known problem sleeping, it’s probably no surprise to anyone that I barely sleep that night. For once, my insomnia can’t be blamed on my own bullshit. Instead, I’m haunted by the image of Haylee in the middle of that crowd, eyes closed, hunched down as if to protect herself, terror radiating from her.

  I go over it a million times in my head. What in the hell happened to cause that kind of reaction? I can’t figure it out. She told me, once, that she wasn’t a fan of crowds. But she seemed to do so well with it, following me out to the cars, even laughing when I told her how great she looked. So what went gone wrong?

  Was it somehow related to her stalker? I picture her icy anger when she threw those words at me back in the alley, about what he did. She hasn’t brought it up once since then. But that was the kind of thing you didn’t just forget about, right?

  If I wanted to ask her, she wasn’t going to make it easy. You would think that it would be simple to find someone when your band is on tour with their band—we were, after all, occupying the same hotel, but Haylee apparently had other ideas. She’s nowhere to be found when I come downstairs the next morning, but she somehow manages to get on the opener’s bus just in time for us to leave Glasgow. When we arrive in Edinburgh that afternoon, she again disappears, leaving a wary-looking James to intercept me in the hall outside her hotel room.

  “She’s resting,” he explains, arms crossed. He’s a lot taller than me, and the way he’s standing seems designed to take up as much hallway space as possible.

  “Can I just—”

  “I’ll let her know you stopped by,” he says, turning to go.

  “Hey, James?” I call. He doesn’t turn, just stops in the middle of the hallway, waiting for me to go on. “Is she okay? What happened last night was—”

  He sighs, his shoulders slumping a little, but when he responds, his voice is firm. “She’s fine. Tired, that’s all. I’ll see you around.”

  “Yeah,” I mutter to his retreating back. “See you.”

  I could probably push it. I could wait outside her hotel room door until she gets up, or plant myself in their dressing room at the venue until she shows. But something in the way she shut down the night before was familiar. I had the sense that whatever it was she was feeling, it wasn’t all that far removed from my own experiences. Haven’t I spent hours hiding away in a hotel room somewhere, hoping no one would come looking for me? Was I really going to do that to Haylee?

  So I allowed her to keep her distance. Even though it sucked.

  We were scheduled for two shows in Edinburgh with a day off in between. As was becoming practice on the last two tours, Dad and Levi worked with the booking manager to make sure we have decent time off between shows on this tour, even though we are already operating on a condensed timetable. Another thing they have to thank me for, I think to myself as I make my way downstairs the next morning.

  Levi, Daisy, Paige, and my brothers are all there in the restaurant already, waiting for me. I take one look at Paige and know exactly what’s coming.

  “I think I’m going to take a walk,” I say before anyone else can speak. “See the sights. Edinburgh is a great city for walking.”

  “Nice try,” Cash says, grabbing my jacket sleeve and pulling me into the seat next to him. “Paige has plans.”

  “Of course she does,” I sigh, earning a glare from Reed.

  “Okay,” Paige says, sounding excited. “This is what I was thinking.”

  Before she can begin to tell us, I’m distracted by the sight of the members of Intrigue coming into the restaurant. They’re practically huddled together as they walk, and I’m struck by the sense that they’re in protective mode. Or maybe that’s just my imagination in action when I see Haylee in the middle of the group. Her eyes look red, and dark shadows mar her pale cheeks. I wonder if she hasn’t been sleeping either. She glances at me, and her eyes widen a little before she quickly looks away.

  “Hey, you guys!” Paige calls, waving. “Over here!”

  “Paige,” I mutter, seeing Haylee wince. “I don’t think it’s a good—”

  But Layla is waving and leading the rest of the band over to us, though James’s face has gone rather tight. “Hey!” Layla says. “How’s it going?”

  “Come sit down!” Paige urges, holding up the plate in front of her. “We have pastries!”

  “I’ve never said no to pastries,” Dylan says, pulling up a chair. The rest of the band follows suit, Haylee sitting as far from me as possible. She doesn’t meet my eyes.

  “We were just talking about how to spend our day off,” Paige explains.

  “Talking,” Levi mutters. “Yeah, because you were going to let anyone else get a word in edgewise.”

  She spares him a single disdainful raised eyebrow before turning back to the others. “You guys should hang out with us!”

  “Uh,” Dylan says, gaze shooting toward Haylee. She doesn’t meet his eyes, staring steadily at the ground. “I think we were just going to go out and explore.”

  “Exactly!” Paige says. “That’s what we’re doing too! Come with us.”

  I can tell that Dylan and James are looking for a way to refuse, their gazes shooting toward Haylee. But Layla puts an end to that. “That sounds awesome!” she says. Under the table I think I see her squeeze Haylee’s hand. “Just what we need today, a little fun.”

  “That’s settled then!” Paige says happily. “I think we should start at the castle, obviously, because it’s pretty much the center of town and, like, totally famous.”

  “I feel as if a warning is in order before you agree to spend your day with us,” Cash interrupts. “Paige, uh, gets a little carried away with her planning.”

  “That’s not true!” Paige cries. “You always have fun when you hang out with me, buddy.”

  “Like in the old-timey village?” he asks.

  “That was Levi’s idea,” she argues. “And you had fun anyhow!”

  “The neon museum.” His voice is flat as he holds up a finger, ticking off the places she’s dragged us over the last few years. “The cat museum. The largest ball of string. The salt and pepper—”

  “Okay, okay.” She slaps a hand over Cash’s mouth, and Reed snickers. “You made your point. But all of those things were fun!” She glances at Haylee’s friends, who now seem a little alarmed. “We’re not doing anything all that strange today,” she assures them. “Just a little
normal sightseeing.”

  I don’t think Paige has ever been satisfied with normal sightseeing in her life, but I don’t point that out. I’m too busy shooting furtive glances at Haylee, trying to judge how she’s feeling about all of this. But she doesn’t argue, doesn’t complain, just continues to stare at the ground until the rest of us stand to go. She follows almost robotically, something about her jerky movements making my stomach clench.

  I step to her side, trying to ignore the glare I get from James, and nudge her shoulder a little with mine. “Hey.” She winces, and my stomach clenches again. What upset her so much? “Haylee.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she mutters, and her voice is much more fierce than I would have thought her capable of right now.

  “We don’t have to,” I say quickly. “I just wanted to tell you that Paige…” I glance over my shoulder to make sure no one can overhear me. “She can be a little overenthusiastic sometimes, but we do usually have fun with her. Even when she’s making us do something ridiculous.” I take a deep breath. “There have been some days when, uh, I’m having a rough time. And Paige can usually take my mind off whatever shitty thing is bothering me.”

  Haylee looks up at me for the first time, and it takes everything I have not to pull her into my arms. Whatever protective streak I might have is set off big time by the look on her face. Her pale skin makes it obvious she hasn’t slept any better than me, and her eyes are huge and dark, filled with something that looks a lot like shame. A lot like pain. She watches me for a minute, as if searching for something in my face, before she finally nods. “Thanks. I guess it’s worth a try.”

  Relief flares in my chest as we follow Paige outside, where she confers with Frank, one of our bodyguards. “Okay, here comes the transportation,” she says brightly, sounding a lot like a kindergarten teacher. “There should be room for everyone.”

  I follow Haylee into the waiting van. Even faced with the evidence of how rough things are for her right now, there’s a part of me that feels better than I did yesterday. Maybe it’s seeing her, being near her. Maybe it’s the fact that she isn’t pushing me away. At least not right now.

  The drive to the castle is short enough that we could have easily walked had security not been an issue. It’s situated in Old Town, perched on the top of a towering, dormant volcano. “That’s pretty sweet,” Cash says, looking up at the ancient structure. “Very Lord of the Rings.”

  I’ve been to the castle before, on our last tour of Europe, but I was on my own then, my brothers satisfied with hanging out at the hotel, probably recovering from a night of heavy partying. I enjoyed it then, the historical aspect appealing to what my brothers would term my nerdy nature. And Cash wasn’t joking—it does look like it belongs in The Lord of the Rings. But my feelings that day were nothing compared to how it feels touring the castle with Haylee.

  To my very great surprise, and to James’s seeming annoyance, she sticks by my side when we pile out of the van. Paige, ever diligent in her planning, arranged to have sections of the castle cleared out as we walk through. For once in my life, the special treatment doesn’t rankle. Unlike Daltrey and Cash, I can usually get away with being in public without recognition—at least I can when I’m on my own. When we’re all together, it’s virtually impossible to avoid detection, but when it’s just me, I rarely have a problem. Who’s going to recognize the bass player? That’s probably one of the many reasons I’ve earned such a reputation for being a loner. It annoys me to no end that we have to be surrounded by security when we go out together.

  But today the security doesn’t seem like such an imposition. From the corner of my eye I watch as Haylee slowly relaxes. Her arms straighten out, her shoulders becoming less hunched, as she looks from side to side, taking in the sites, her gaze no longer solely focused on a spot on the ground directly in front of her. When we take a minute to lean against the outer ramparts, looking down at the entire city stretching before us, the blue waters of the Firth of Forth beyond, she actually smiles.

  Expecting my brothers to spend hours touring a historical site—even one that does look like it might be attacked by orcs at any minute—is asking for way too much. After an hour or so, Paige hurries us off to the next stop on her plan.

  “What in the hell is this?” Daltrey asks, looking up at the brick building.

  “It’s supposed to be really cool—”

  “Paige.” There’s a warning note in his voice. “What is it?”

  She huffs. “It’s a kind of museum, okay, Daltrey?”

  “I knew it was a museum.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I thought we had an agreement after the neon museum in Vegas.”

  “This isn’t a weird one—”

  “Camera Obscura,” Daisy reads from the sign, squinting. “And World of Illusions.”

  “It’s a magic museum?” Cash groans. “Paige.”

  “It’s not a magic museum,” Paige argues, looking to Reed for support. He holds up his hands in defeat, and her eyes narrow. “Coward,” she mutters before turning back to the rest of us. “Look, it’s rated highly on all the travel sites online. There’s supposed to be tons of cool stuff in there to look at. And if you would just be open-minded for five minutes—”

  “I think it sounds fun,” Haylee says. When Paige turns to her, wide-eyed, she shrugs. “We’re here, right? Let’s give it a try.”

  “You, Haylee,” Paige says, slipping her arm around the singer’s shoulders, “are clearly a woman of great taste and intelligence.”

  “Good job,” I whisper in Haylee’s ear. “She’s recruited you for her madness now.”

  But Haylee’s smile in response is enough to make me thankful for Paige Brennen and all of her silly event planning. “I’m in.”

  Everyone else follows us into the building, though Daltrey and Cash do plenty of grumbling about it. Their sour moods don’t last long. As is so often the case with the random sites Paige picks for us, World of Illusions is actually really cool. The museum is a series of optical illusions spread across different rooms. There are light displays that immediately transfix Reed and Daltrey, holograms, trippy mirrors, and several places to take pictures, one of which uses forced perspective to make people in the same room appear to be vastly different heights, providing an excellent opportunity for us to rip on Cash for being short.

  “You sure you don’t want another picture, buddy?” Reed asks. “This is your last chance to even come close to being as tall as me.”

  “Fuck off, Reed,” Cash growls. “I might be shorter but I’m stronger. And I’m feeling the strangest urge to use that strength to punch that smug look off your face.”

  “You guys always like this?” Haylee asks me.

  “Mostly. Don’t ever tell him I admitted it, but Cash has a point.” I make a face at her. “I’ve been on the receiving end of both of their punches. Cash is definitely stronger.”

  “You hit each other?” She sounds vaguely shocked.

  “Well… yeah. We’re brothers.”

  “Idiots, actually,” Daisy says, joining us to watch Daltrey and Reed, who have teamed up to get Cash into a headlock.

  “You might start throwing punches if you had to live with all three of them your whole life,” I tell her.

  “I lived close enough,” she says drily. She looks at Haylee. “I grew up next door. You should have seen how messy they kept that kitchen.” She shudders. “On second thought, idiot was too kind. What’s a word that means immature and animal-like?”

  “What’s that, Cash? You want a noogie?” Daltrey asks, ignoring his older brother’s curses to the contrary. “Are you sure? I might ruin the hair you spent twenty minutes carefully messing up this morning. I guess if you insist…”

  “See what I mean?” Daisy asks, shaking her head. “And I’m having a baby with that man-child.”

  Haylee laughs as Daisy heads over to break up the scuffle, hissing something about them getting us kicked out.

  “I didn
’t realize you guys have known Daisy for so long,” Haylee says as we wander away from the commotion of my brothers.

  “Oh, yeah, she’s practically family. I was seven when we moved in next door to her and her dad.”

  “Where did you live before that?”

  It’s a simple query, totally the natural question to ask next. But it still has my spine straightening before I can stop myself. “California. We lived there, uh, before my parents split.”

  “I’m sorry,” she says simply. I look over at her, relieved more than I can say to realize that there’s no pity in her eyes. “My dad was never around, so I’m totally used to the single parent thing.”

  This is new information. “Your mom raised you?”

  “Raised me, sponged off me, however you want to look at it.” She grimaces. “Sorry. That sounded bitter, huh?”

  “You’re allowed to sound however you want when you talk about your parents.” We pause in front of one of those plasma globes, watching the beams of light that appear when we touch the glass.

  “She was really into the idea of me making it,” Haylee says, staring at the globe. We broached this topic a little bit on the plane when we commiserated on having stage parents, but Haylee sounds a lot more dismal about it now. “She had me out busking and playing in cafés and stuff by the time I was twelve—”

  “You were busking when you were twelve?” I ask, unable to imagine a little-girl Haylee sitting on a street corner somewhere with her guitar. “And your mom was okay with that?”

  “My mom facilitated that. It was all her doing.” She pushes her hair behind her ears, taking a deep breath. When she looks back at me, she’s smiling again, even if it looks a little wistful. “Like I said, she wanted me to make it.”

  “Sounds like your mom could give my dad a run for his money.”

  She laughs. “The difference is my mom didn’t really know anything about the music business. So her stage mothering days dropped off when things actually started happening.” For a second it seems like she’s going to go on, but then she shuts her mouth with an audible snap of her teeth.