Page 73 of Catch
My face fell into shock, but it shouldn’t have. Linc was smart and a good ass cop. He’d seen enough to put it all together.
"Who else knows?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
"No one," he snorted. "I assumed you had your reasons for keeping it to yourself. I wasn’t gonna push. I mean, I kind of hoped when we grilled those steaks at my place that you’d say something, but I knew you had your reasons."
“I pulled her over,” I confessed, owing him the truth after he’d let me get away with so much, including lying to him and dodging his phone calls. “She wasn’t even speeding by much but something told me to give her a warning. She ended up being a handful.”
“And then you fell for her,” Linc nodded, knowing he was right.
“Yeah I couldn’t help it. She’d dance around the house barefoot, humming new songs, wearing my t-shirts. Captain read me in on the fact that she was ‘missing’ and I lied to his face. But I had promised Lox I’d keep her safe and secluded for as long as she needed.”
“What are you gonna do now?”
I sighed, tempted to tell him I was going to go find Lox and bring her back, even if she was kicking and screaming. But the lyrics in her song made me rethink that idea. She said she wouldburn me to the ground, and although I wasn’t scared of anything, it did make me realize that she left to save me.
But from what?
Chapter Forty-One
LOXLEY
If I’d givenhim the chance to stop me, I knew I wouldn’t have gone through with it. But I couldn’t do that to him.
The second I turned my phone on and checked my emails, the truth hit me like a freight train. Sam already knew where I was, and there was a plan in place to turn Miles into the villain.
Those emails contained correspondence between Sam, my music label, and the PR department. I was copied on everything so I’d be aware of their strategies. There it was in black and white—a press release ready to go with Miles’ picture under the headline:Obsessed Fan Uses Uniform and Handcuffs to Abduct Rising Star Loxley Adams.
Attached were drafts of documents meant for the media, including Miles’ address, phone number, and even private details about his brothers and grandparents. They were prepared to ruin his life.
The emails went further, discussing how Miles would inevitably lose his job. Even if his eldest brother’s influence could help prove his innocence, the damage would already be done. Social backlash would ensure he was branded forever.
I couldn’t let that happen. Not to Miles. Not to his family. They’d already been through enough. The last thing they neededwas for my problems to ignite a new firestorm in their small town.
And Sam knew. He always knew. That’s why, when I got up that morning and packed my things, I received a text saying there was a car waiting for me at the end of the driveway.
I hadn’t arrived at Miles’ house with bags, so everything I’d bought online during my stay was tossed into a trash bag. Tears blurred my vision as I dragged it down the long drive. I didn’t even question getting into the car with another stranger. I knew where they were taking me. Right back to Nashville where I could get back on whatever schedule they wanted me on.
By the time the sun was fully up, we pulled into the parking garage of the building where my lonely condo stood waiting, just as empty as I’d left it. The first thing I did was take a shower, tears mixing with the hot water as I let the anger and pain flow out of me. It wasn’t because I was back, it was because I knew, when Miles woke up and realized what I’d done, he’d hate me.
And a world where Miles hated me was worse than the life I’d left behind when all of this started.
When I stepped out of the shower, I wrapped myself in my robe and collapsed onto the couch, hoping for sleep. But it wasn’t long before a team let themselves in, bustling around me, preparing me for my return to the stage that night. They’d decided my return performance would be in Nashville before I hit the road again for an extended tour to make up for the canceled shows.
“Where’s Sam?” I asked as the hairstylist frowned at my newly dyed hair.
“He’s on his way,” another woman muttered, flipping through racks of stage outfits.
Sometime after lunch, Sam stormed into the condo, all business. He didn’t mention why I was there or what had happened. He didn’t need to. By being there, I’d already mademy choice to protect Miles. And as long as I stayed on stage, Sam wouldn’t make Harmony Haven a living hell.
I was numb, an obedient robot. I went through the motions just like before.
By 4:00 PM, a car came to pick us up and take us to the venue. The band was waiting, ready to rehearse a few songs before the show.
Normally, I’d perform an acoustic set with the guitarist before the main act. It was a stripped-down, intimate moment that I usually loved. But when he asked which songs I wanted to play, I shook my head. “None of them.”
“You still not feeling well? That must’ve been one hell of a flu.”
His casual tone stung. Even the band didn’t know the truth. They thought I’d been sick. And though I hated lying, the fewer people who knew about Miles, the better.
