“Finn?” Bonnie asked. “You ever been to the Oscars?”

She knew he hadn’t been. But that’s not what she was asking, and he understood the question, loud and clear. Bonnie wanted him with her. And in spite of everything, he wanted that too. He was all in, and he’d known it last night when he heard her sing, standing at the top of the slide, telling the night sky that she was a traveler going through the world alone.

“I’ll get Bonnie to California by Sunday,” he said to Bear, and Bonnie’s face lit up with that same old smile that kicked his ass and made him beg for more. “It’s Thursday now. We’ll show up at the Oscars, put the rumors to rest, and after that, Bonnie can decide what happens next without any of us telling her what she will or won’t do.”

Bear was watching Bonnie as she beamed at Finn over her coffee mug. He shook his head a little, as if denying what his eyes were telling him.

“You need wheels?” Bear asked abruptly.

“I’ve got a rental car out there,” Finn said doubtfully. “But I’m supposed to turn it in today. If I’m in trouble, I don’t want to be flashing my driver’s license and using my credit card again to rent something else. We won’t make it very far.”

“Nah. That won’t do. I drove in from Nashville this morning. It’s only four hours from here. You take my car, and I’ll drive your rental back to Nashville. You call the rental company, tell them you’ll turn it in there. They don’t ID you when you bring the car back. They just want money. I’ll give it to them.”

“They might charge us an arm and leg for changing the check-in location,” Finn said.

“You can pay me back when this is over. I will expect a raise, Baby Rae.” He turned his attention to her for a brief second and then was back to glaring at Finn. “I’ll get my car when I come to LA for the awards.” Bear looked at Bonnie. “Don’t let Bonnie drive.”

“Bear!” Bonnie said, offended. Judging by Bonnie’s penchant for trouble, it wouldn’t surprise Finn if she were a terror behind the wheel. Finn considered himself fairly warned.

“There’s your purse, Rae.” Bear indicated the buttery yellow, leather bag he’d placed on the table upon entering the kitchen. “I got you a new phone. Your gran took yours since you lifted hers. Don’t ask me how I got my hands on this bag. The phone’s on my account, and it’s for my own peace of mind.”

Bonnie rose and kissed the top of his shiny, bald head. “Thank you, Bear. And the raise? Consider it done.”

With a quick smile for Finn, she bounded up the stairs, and Finn could hear her in the upstairs room, gathering their things. Good. They needed to leave while they still could.

“I’ve been a bodyguard for twenty-five years, and I’ve been Bonnie’s head of security and fix-it man for the last five,” Bear said seriously, and Finn’s attention moved from the bedroom to the kitchen table where the glowering black man demanded it. “I’ve played babysitter to a lot of celebrities in my life. Made a good living at it too. Some of them are nice people. Some of them aren’t. But most of them are screwed up in some way or another. Just comes with the territory. Too much of everything. And everybody knows too much of anything makes you sick. Sick in the belly, sick in the head, sick in the soul. Too many of ‘em got too much yet they don’t ever feel full, it seems like. They think they should be happy but they aren’t, so they do stupid shit to make the emptiness go away.

“But Bonnie Rae isn’t like that. Some of it’s due to her gran being a hard-ass. Bonnie might not admit it, but that woman loves her. Unfortunately, Gran saved Bonnie from being bitten by the celebrity bug, but she’s fallen victim to it herself. She’s let it become the most important thing.

“Rae’s always been steady, though. Sweet. Full of life, and never full of herself. But when her sister died the fire went out. She just lost it. I thought she was done when she went home. I thought we’d be canceling the rest of the tour and taking some time off. But that didn’t happen. It shoulda happened. I shoulda stepped in as her friend. But I didn’t. So that’s why I’m here, and that’s why I’m stepping in now. I don’t know what’s going on with you two. She says you found her on a bridge in Boston. She told me if it wasn’t for you she might not be here. So I’m gonna walk away now. And I’m gonna trust you. But if you hurt that girl in any way, I will kill you.” The flat black of Bear’s eyes didn’t flicker or shift. He wasn’t making idle threats.

“I’m ready!” Bonnie spilled into the kitchen, hopping on one foot as she pulled a red boot on her other foot. Finn’s bags hung off her shoulders, and one arm was stuck in her fluffy pink coat.

“Keys!” Bear demanded, standing from the table, abandoning what was left of his highly doctored coffee. Finn dug the keys from his pocket—he’d hidden them the night before so Bonnie couldn’t steal them and drive off again—and he’d put them in his pocket as soon as he’d pulled his pants on that morning. Bear tossed his own set toward him, and Finn caught them deftly before doing the same.

“My car is the black Charger parked down the street, and I’m guessing yours is the tin can in the driveway. Lucky me. I suggest you two get the hell out of town. You keep moving and you should be fine. Once you get to LA, lay low at the Bordeaux—those people have dealt with stars and scandals for decades, and they are discreet. You’ve stayed there before so you know the drill. Nobody will even know you’re there. I’ll take care of the details, and I’ll see you both in LA. Call me, Baby Rae.”