Page 8 of Captivating

It wraps around me like the warmest, softest blanket, comforting me in the way only home can.

Home.

I couldn’t wait to get out of here to go on my first tour, and after nearly a decade of what feels like non-stop touring, I’m not sure I ever want to leave again.

That simple thought has my shoulders relaxing and my ever-present anxiety taking a much-needed back seat as I makemy way in and tuck myself under my father’s other arm. “Hi, Daddy.”

He drops a kiss on my head, and my siblings all mock me. “Hi, Daddy.”

Whatever. They can all suck it.

I stick my tongue out at them and giggle as Mom hugs me like an anaconda trying to strangle its prey.

“Let her breathe, Nat. You just had her home last month for Christmas.” Dad’s hand wraps around Mom’s hip as he comes to my defense.

I swear I love my mom, but thank God for Dad or she’d smother us all.

“Fine.” She takes a step back and picks up her coffee mug as she looks at me. “Honey, you look tired.”

“Mom...” I whine. Yup. I’m home for ten minutes, and I’m already whining. So proud. “I wanted to sleep later, but you insisted on breakfast.”

Dillan leans back in her stool and stares at me. “You should try eating a muffin, Tink. Your ass is looking kinda small.”

“Oh my God...Really?” I smile and reach for a bottle of water. “I’ve added extra cardio to my workout to drop a dress size.”

“Why?” Asher asks as he pushes a muffin my way. “Guys like ass, Tink.”

I shake my head. “Camera adds ten pounds, Ash.”

“Guys don’t need to like your sister’s ass,” Dad scolds them both.

“You look perfect.” Mom hands me a cup of hot tea. “Now tell us what’s going on. Noah said you guys are meeting with the label next week to reschedule the rest of the tour. Your father and I would like to be there.”

“Mom,” Noah stops her before I have the chance. “We’ve got this.”

But we both know there’s no stopping Natalie Ryan. “You both need extra security. I don’t care if your label provides it or if we have to. But you need it before you agree to go back out.”

“Mom...” he tries again, but this time the look she gives him stops him before he can say anything else. “They don’t give a shit about me. Lilah needs it more than I do.”

“Fucking traitor,” I croak, and he has the decency to cringe.

“It’s true.” Dillan holds her phone up and scrolls through multiple articles. “For every article I’ve seen that includes Noah since the tour was canceled, I’ve seen ten more that only mention you. It wasyourdressing room, Lilah.”

Dad wraps his big arm around my shoulders and squeezes, relaxing me in a way only he can. Brady Ryan may have retired from football nearly fifteen years ago, but he’s as strong as he’s ever been. When he started coaching the football team at our old high school, he used to do half the workouts with the guys. They still bust his balls about all the up-downs he made them do.

“Is that why we’re here? Is this some kind of security intervention?” I can’t help my defensive tone. “I’m sorry. I know you’re coming at this from a good place, but this week has been hell, and I just don’t think I have it in me to talk about all of it yet.”

The tears I refuse to cry burn the backs of my lids.

Three days ago, we walked into our biggest stop of theCaptivatingtour and were five feet from my dressing room when security rushed me out, only to find out fifteen minutes later that a bomb disguised as a gift had been delivered earlier that afternoon. Security found it during their sweep.

No one knows who the package came from or when.

They have no idea who sent it or why.

Just that if it had gone off, it could have killed hundreds or maybe thousands of people.

Thinking about it sends a chill down my spine and makes my stomach churn.

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