Page 80 of Rock Bottom

Boone stood with a grunt. “All right then. Me and Bowie will take the horses out.”

“Sir, I…” I moved to get up but stopped when Wattson shot me another glare. “I want to go.”

“With a head injury?” Ragnar frowned over at Boone.

Boone crossed his arms. “I don’t know. Oscar might spook if he sees you coming. Might be wiser for you to stay out of sight.”

“With all due respect, sir, this isn’t your job, and Dante’s not your responsibility. He’s mine. I want to be the one to bring him home, and I sure as hell want to be there when Oscar gets what’s coming to him.” I paused and waited for Wattson to finish the last stitch before adding, “Please, Boone. I can’t just sit here and do nothing. Not again.”

“Well, you are the second best on a horse after Bowie…” Boone scratched his beard, considering a moment before shaking his head. “Ok, but only if Wattson clears you.”

I gave Wattson a pleading look, knowing he shouldn’t clear me to go, not injured as I was. At best, I’d lost quite a bit of blood before he got there and at worst I had a concussion. He should send me to have my head scanned to make sure there wasn’t any serious damage.

Wattson sighed. “I suppose you’ve survived worse. But no hand-to-hand combat. You hang back and shoot if it comes to it.”

Boone nodded to Ragnar. “Ragnar, saddle up three horses.”

I frowned. “Three horses?” I’d assumed Bowie would be going since he was the best rider we had, but it wouldn’t make sense for all three of us to go. Someone had to stay at the base to command the operation, and if Bowie and I were riding out, that only left Boone. Leo hated riding, and Ragnar was practically a pacifist and refused to carry a weapon.

“The only way you’re going out there is if Wattson goes with you,” Boone said.

Wattson stood up straighter. “Now wait just a minute. You didn’t say that before.”

“Unless you don’t want to stand by your assessment, doctor?” Boone arched an eyebrow and waited for Wattson to back down.

Instead, Wattson closed up his case and slid it off the bumper. “Fine. I’ll go. Someone’s got to be there in case the diva gets a hangnail from his ordeal.”

Boone held out his hand, and I passed him Dante’s shoe. “You’ll take the satellite phone up and check in every hour. If you miss a check in, you’d better be dead. Watch for traps. This kid might not be a survivalist, but he’s got the advantage. We don’t know how long he’s been out there setting all this up, and he’s clearly got a plan of some kind. I’m going to stay here and do my damndest to keep any of these fine folk in uniform from leaking what’s going on to the press and Dante’s management team for as long as I can. See you on the other side, gentlemen.”

I stood and did my best not to sway in place, despite still feeling a bit woozy. “Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”

I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered in the corner while Oscar prowled near the windows. The little cabin he’d forced me into was even more rustic than the one I’d shared with Church. At least the last one had electricity and running water. There was no heat, and the only bed was a rickety, dust-laden mattress with suspicious stains tossed in the rear of the cabin. I’d nearly cut myself on a broken beer bottle when Oscar told me to sit on it.

As bad as the situation was, I could barely focus on how miserable I was. All I could think about was Church. Had I moved him far enough away from the fire? Was anyone there with him, or was he alone and unconscious in the dark where any predator could get to him? Was he in pain? Was he even alive? The cut on his head had looked nasty, and there was no telling what damage the taser might’ve done.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Oscar used the gun to pull back one of the thin curtains, peering out into the dark. He moved his arm and hissed in pain, putting his hand over the bullet wound.

I chewed on my bottom lip, eying the bloodstains drying on his shirt. “That looks pretty bad.”

“Of course it does,” he growled, spinning toward me. “Your bodyguard fucking shot me!”

I lifted my hands so he could see I wasn’t armed. “He was just doing his job, Oscar.”

Oscar marched back to where I was seated and stood over me. “He was trying to keep us apart. He just wants you to himself! Well, he doesn’t fucking deserve you. He doesn’t even know you!”

As he ranted, he waved the gun around. I tried to scoot away, but there was nowhere to go. My back was already up against the rough-hewn wood wall. I eyed the door. Maybe if I made a run for it… But no, the risk that he’d lose it and shoot me was too high. Besides, I didn’t know how to get back from there. I didn’t even know where we were. If I somehow got away from the madman with the gun, I’d probably just fall down some ravine and break my neck in the dark.

I swallowed the growing lump in my throat. “Oscar, put the gun down before you hurt yourself.”

He lowered the gun, but didn’t put it down, turning back to pacing. It was like he hadn’t even heard me. “He doesn’t know all your songs. I bet he doesn’t even know one. And he sure as hell hasn’t been to every one of your concerts for the last year. Okay, I missed that one in Baltimore, but my car broke down and I couldn’t get a ride. I wrote to you about it, though.”

“I know,” I lied. I’d never seen a single letter from Oscar. In fact, I rarely, if ever, saw letters from my fans at all. There was someone at the label who intercepted all of them and replied to a few, but the only interactions I ever had were when I posted on social media. Even those were tightly policed anymore.

He stepped closer, eyes pleading. “So you know I’m loyal. You know I would never hurt you, Dante.”

I fought the urge to scoot away when he sat down next to me. “You set the cabin on fire, Oscar.”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you. I…I love you, Dante.” He lifted his hand like he was about to touch my face, and I flinched away. He frowned and let his hand fall. “I know you’re scared, but once you get to know me, you’ll see I’m not so bad. And then you’ll love me too.”

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