I shook my head as I strode to the table of food. “You need to eat.”

She scowled and pulled away. “I’ll eat later. After the show.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I shook my head. “You’ll eat now.”

Matching my stance, she glared. “No.”

“Fine.” I grabbed a plate and started filling it with the things I knew she liked. When it was heaping, I shooed her toward her dressing room. She’d just sat down when I sat the plate in front of her. “Eat half of it.”

Her reflection watched mine in the wall-sized mirror. “You know I’ll get sick.”

“You won’t. You’ll be fine. But if you want to drink at the party tonight, you’ll eat at least half that plate now.”

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes sparkled with anger. “You are not my father.”

I shook my head once. “Nope, I’m not. I’m your security detail. Don’t push me, Mols, ‘cause I will take your ass straight back to the room and you’ll miss the party.”

I thought she was going to accept the challenge and refuse the food. She watched me for a minute, her expression guarded. Then she shrugged and reached for the plate. When she walked out an hour later, she had more pep in her step. Her performance blew the crowd away, and she got two encores. When she barreled off stage at the end of her set, laughing and riding the high of life, I decided that Miss Molly was going to eat dinner before every show. Even if we had to have a showdown.

I had no problems with after-parties. They gave the band and crew a great excuse to let loose and mingle with the fans who loved them. It was a chance to make great memories.

This party, though, was fucking heinous and needed to end. Soon.

I didn’t know who was in charge of the music, but they needed to be fired. Even though we’d all just left a country concert, usually the DJs chose top 40 dance tunes to keep everyone dancing and the mood upbeat. Tonight, though, thick beats of techno blasted over the speakers, creating a sex-charged vibe. Even the dance floor was empty, as if no one knew how to dance appropriately.

I rubbed my temple slightly, wondering how in the hell Molly could manage to have a conversation over this shit. She’d been sitting at the bar, talking to the same guy almost since we’d walked in. Every now and then, her eyes would drift over the crowd until she found me, and then she’d give me a small smile, before returning to the pretty boy in front of her.

I’d wandered the perimeter, keeping my eyes open, before settling by the railing on the VIP deck a few feet above the main floor. From this height, I was able to see almost the entire club and could spot trouble before it happened. Plus, I could give Mols the perception of freedom without actually giving her any.

A hand brushed across my back, and for a split second, I thought I would have to tell someone to get fucked. Then Lee moved in next to me. “She looks like she’s having a good time.”

I glanced at the short redhead next to me. “She is. But you look like shit.”

Red nodded, lifting her hair off her neck. “I feel like it.”

Her lack of a witty comeback had me spinning toward her, worry racing through me. “What’s wrong?”

Her eyes filled with tears, but she only shook her head. “Nothing. I just need sleep.”

I cupped her cheek, massaging her with my thumb. In the back of my mind, I wondered if I should be touching her like that, but I pushed it away. I’d comforted her for years and had no plans to stop now.

She seemed to need me to touch her as much as I needed to do it, and suddenly, she pushed herself into my arms. I wrapped them around her, pulling her as close to me as she could get, and let her sob. I didn’t know what the fuck was wrong, or who had made her cry, but I would find out, and then I’d hit them so hard their head would spin.

Leaning my head into her hair, I rubbed her back. “Shhhh,” I said, trying to comfort her. “What’s wrong, babe? I can’t help if I don’t know what’s bothering you.”

Pulling back, she shook head and chuckled. “It’s nothing.” She wiped her eyes and sniffed. “Really. I’m just being overly dramatic.” She sighed. “I need to go back to the hotel and sleep.”

“You need me to take you? I can have one of the other boys fill in for me.”

She stepped back. “God, no!” Then she laughed. “Do you remember the time Nate and I had the fight about prom?”

“I do.” Fuck, did I. Kelly had made the brilliant decision to take Ally Jackson to prom instead of Lee. They’d broken up over it. My eyes snapped away from hers, searching the crowd. That fucker. If he’d done something like that again, I would fucking wreck him. “What did he do?” I forced the words out.

“Jesus. Really?” Her annoyed tone surprised me, and she glared at me when I turned back to face her. “Is there ever a time when you don’t automatically assume the worst? He didn’t do anything. This just reminded me of that day. Déjà vu.”

I felt like a fucking jackass. “Sorry,” I mumbled before shrugging. “You know me. I want to fix things. And I’m worried about you.”

She forced out a laugh. “You mean you want to punch people and blow shit up. That’s not fixing things, Mikey. That’s destroying them.”

“Same thing in my world.”

She patted my cheek, offering a small smile. “I’m just really tired and need to crash. Take care of Mols and I’ll see you both in the morning.” She didn’t wait for a response before squeezing around the crowd behind me and heading down the stairs.

I turned back to the bar, relieved that Mols and her mystery man were still deep in conversation. A quick scan of the crowd told me not much had changed and that there were no threats that I had to watch for. I leaned my forearms on the railing, trying to get comfortable.

Ten minutes later, a bottle of Sam Adams was shoved into my hand and Nate leaned against the railing next to me, staring at the people below us.

“Lee left. She seemed pretty upset,” I told him before he could say a word.

“Yeah.” He took a long pull of his beer.

“That’s all you got to say?”

“You never answered my calls.”

I rolled the cool bottle between my palms. His tone was accusatory, as if my being gone had offended him. But I sure as shit didn’t cause whatever problem he and his wife were having.

“I needed you, and you didn’t answer my fucking calls.”

Guilt hit, and it hit hard. I’d avoided his calls, deleting his messages before listening to them. “I needed some time.”

“You got your shit straight now? Or you gonna tuck your tail between your legs and run away again like a little bitch?”

Fuck the fact that I was on the clock. I tipped the bottle, downing half of it in one gulp. “It’s as straight as it’s gonna get.”

“It better be. We fucking need you.” Before I could point out that they had Sam, he ground out, “Don’t feed me whatever line of bullshit you’re trying to come up with. The last few months have been fucking hell and we needed our best friend.”

I fought the urge to be nosy, watching Kelly out of the corner of my eye, and lost. “I fucked up, okay. I’m sorry. What in the hell is going on?”

Nate finished off his beer. “I’m fucking losing her, man.” Pain crossed his face as he stepped closer to me. “We lost a baby. Not even two weeks after the wedding. We didn’t know she was pregnant until she started hemorrhaging in the middle of a goddamn show and they rushed her to the ER without tellin’ me.” He shook his head, the muscles in his jaw ticking. He must have lost his shit when he got off stage and she was missing. “I got there too late. I wasn’t even there to hold her fuckin’ hand when they told her.”

I inhaled sharply. She’d been alone when she got some of the worst news she’d ever get. “Give it time, man. That was only a few months ago. She—”

“Blames herself ‘cause she’d been drinking.” Fuck. “The doctors told us to wait, to give her body time to heal before we tried again. But she won’t fucking listen. She insists we need to keep trying or we’re going to be too old.”