By Brandilyn Collins
This daughter of a rock megastar has it all---until homicide crashes her international. The intriguing and suspenseful Rayne travel sequence positive factors sixteen-year-old Shaley O'Connor, on journey along with her mother's well known band. Shaley lives in a whirlwind of behind the scenes secrets and techniques, motels, and limos. With attractiveness and repute of her personal, Shaley wishes for not anything ... other than the only factor she cannot have. in the course of a live performance, sixteen-year-old Shaley O'Connor stumbles upon the physique of a pal behind the scenes. Is Tom Hutchens' demise attached to her? scary messages arrive. Paparazzi stalk Shaley. Her deepest nightmare is displayed for all to determine. the place is God at a time like this? because the clock runs out, Shaley needs to locate Tom's killer---before he moves back.
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I will. ” I leaned forward. Brittany’s eyes flew open. Her muscles relaxed. She nodded excitedly and gave me a thumbs-up. My hands raised in the air. Yes! Brittany promised her mother the world. No, she wouldn’t go anywhere without a bodyguard. Yes, she’d do everything Rayne O’Connor said. Yes, she’d check in with her worried parents twice a day. Parents. Unexpectedly, the word bit. A reminder that I had only Mom — and an empty black hole for a father I never knew. “Okay. Thanks so much! ” With triumph, Brittany hung up.
Run and check on Tom! But my feet rooted to the carpet, my fingers digging into the doorpost. Onstage, the music stopped. Wild clapping and cheering rose from the arena. The noise jerked me out of my zombie state. I lowered my purse from my shoulder and set it on the floor. Holding my breath, I crept forward. As I edged around the side of the desk, Tom’s jeaned leg came into view. It wasn’t moving. My legs stopped. ” My voice cracked into a whisper. No answer. So what? He couldn’t have heard me above the crowd.
Time seemed to slow. Clutching the door handle, I turned my head toward the color. A foot. On the floor, sticking out from behind the desk. Wearing a Vans with blue, white, and red checks and a red racing strip. The foot lay on its side, toes pointed away from me, heel dug awk-wardly into the carpet. Deathly still. 2 I stared across the room at the foot. The back of my neck prickled. I Run, my mind shouted. Run and check on Tom! But my feet rooted to the carpet, my fingers digging into the doorpost.
Always Watching by Brandilyn Collins