Holding Mia (Rockers' Legacy Book 1)

“Don’t sweat it,” Thornton told him as I entered the dining room where they were sitting eating a buffet-style breakfast. “She’s probably just busy.”

“Unless she had an emergency, she shouldn’t be, though. She would have called me if there was an emergency.” Armstrong stabbed his fingers through his hair in agitation. “And you just said Layla told you Emmie’s SUV isn’t in the driveway and she didn’t see it come home last night after Jagger’s taping when that stupid show was finished.”

“Have you tried Jagger’s phone?” Shane asked before stuffing his mouth with a huge bite of pancakes and eggs.

“His is off, so I can’t even check the GPS on it.” Armstrong caught sight of me, his blue eyes looking wild. “Did you speak to Mia yet? She’s not picking up when I call her, and she won’t respond to my texts.”

“No. I think she’s pissed at me.” I took a seat at the table with them, and Drake pushed the orange juice in my direction while Thornton waved at the buffet behind him with his fork. I shook my head, not sure I could eat much anyway. I hated when Mia was mad at me. “I take it your wife isn’t speaking to you either?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching.

A phone going off had us both tensing until Drake picked his up. “Hey, Angel,” he greeted, his voice softening to a tone I hadn’t heard from him the night before. The light in his eyes at the sound of his wife’s voice dimmed, however, as he listened to her.

“What the fuck do you mean, Nevaeh isn’t answering her phone?” he exploded. “Where the hell is Cole?”

“What are the odds of everyone not answering being a coincidence?” Shane mused as he sipped his coffee.

I pushed back my chair and stood. “Slim. I’m driving up to check on Mia now. I’ll let you know about Nevaeh when I see her.”

Drake nodded his thanks as he continued to listen to whatever his wife was saying.

Armstrong walked with me to the door. “I have a bad feeling, man. Call me as soon as you see Mia.”

Assuring him I would, I opened the door, only to nearly trip with my next step when I realized someone was standing in the doorway already. Behind me, Armstrong uttered a vicious curse while I met first one set of green eyes then another.

The air felt like it was sucked from my lungs with a vacuum, and I felt my knees go weak at the look in Mia’s eyes. They were as cold as ice, emotionless. I wanted to grab her, pull her into my arms, and beg her to give me one of those soul-stealing smiles I couldn’t live without. Yet I felt rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to breathe.

Behind the mother and daughter duo stood a teenager who looked a hell of a lot like Armstrong, and Braxton, who looked like pure hell.

That couldn’t be good.

“Why the fuck haven’t you answered your phone?” Armstrong demanded, going on the offensive.

“We were in the air,” Mia’s mother replied, her voice an eerie combination of fire and ice that had me shivering while sweat beaded and rolled down my back all of a sudden. “Cole was kind enough to lend me his jet when he got in from partying all night.”

“Em, baby doll,” Armstrong began. “I can explain.”

“Good. Because that’s what your daughter and I came here for.” She took a step forward, and on instinct, I took two back, more afraid of this woman for some reason than anything or anyone I’d ever come face-to-face with.

“Mia,” I got out in a voice hoarse with emotion. “This really isn’t what you think.”

Those eyes that normally sparkled like the clearest emeralds were cloudy now. They went from me to her father, pausing on him for a moment, before shooting right back to me. “What do you imagine I’m thinking right now, Barrick?”

“I…” My throat tightened to the point I couldn’t speak. Closing my mouth, I tried to put everything I felt for her into my eyes, praying she would see how much I loved her.

Footsteps sounded behind me seconds before a loud curse came from Thornton. “Emmie.”

Walking around me and her husband, Emmie marched through the suite. Moments later, Shane yelped, and then Drake was saying a hasty goodbye to his wife.

Armstrong let out a defeated exhale. “We should sit down.”

“Yes, please,” Mia murmured.

He stepped forward to put his arm around her, but she jerked backward to avoid his touch. She moved so fast, her knee protested, and she would have fallen if Braxton and her brother hadn’t steadied her. Chin trembling, she glared at her father. “Don’t,” she told him in a brittle voice.

His face tightened with pain, but he nodded. “I understand, baby girl—”

“No, Daddy. You truly do not understand anything right now.” Shrugging off Braxton’s and Jagger’s hold, she walked between us, doing her best to avoid contact with anyone.