Deliverance (The Deviant Hearts Book 2) by N. N. Britt

Author:N. N. Britt [Britt, N. N.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: NB Creative
Published: 2021-05-19T16:00:00+00:00

On the way to the hospital, I brace myself to check social media, which I’ve been conveniently ignoring since the night of the show. The last post on Zander’s Instagram is from a few days ago. It’s an overhead shot of him in a recording booth in front of his drum kit.

I stare at the photo long enough for Santiago to notice and make a ludicrous comment that doesn’t register. There’s a strange tightness beneath my breastbone, tightness I can only attribute to worry.

Worry for another person is something I haven’t felt in a while. Not since my father died and my mother spiraled into depression. It took her years to get back on her feet and even now, whenever I think about those first lonely months after the funeral, horror starts clawing at my gut.

“Anything?” Santiago asks as we battle the afternoon traffic. He’s a temperamental driver and doesn’t shy away from expressing his annoyance every two minutes.

“Press release on his official Facebook page,” I tell him as I quickly skim over the text and note the initials below the post.

I.M.

The long string of comments and reactions reminds me yet again that Zander Shaw isn’t just some rich guy who drives a sports car and plays drums. He plays drums for a major band, which probably means paparazzi and fans.

My suspicions are confirmed when Santiago pulls up to the hospital drop-off zone. A small group of people of various ages in The Deviant T-shirts and hoodies are crowding the main entrance. Several photographers are leaning against the wall, their cameras slung over their shoulders, ready to go.

“You sure you don’t want me to wait?” Santiago asks as I flip down the visor to check my face in the small mirror. I didn’t plan on going anywhere today and didn’t think of bringing a change of clothes, but I did have an extra pair of clean jeans that I wore instead of the dirty ones.

“No. I honestly don’t know how long it’ll take.” I’m not optimistic about this at all. I probably won’t be allowed anywhere near Zander since the place is starting to look like a zoo. “I’ll Uber home.”

“Okay.” Santiago sighs. “But call me if you change your mind. “I’ll pick you up.”

“Thanks.” I grab my bag and slip out of the car.

“Be careful.”

Just as I expected, the nurse at the check-in desk refuses to give out information about Zander’s whereabouts, and for a while, I just roam around the hospital, reading signs and watching people.

This was a bad idea. The worst.

Finding one person in a building filled with thousands is like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Fifteen minutes into my traipse, I spy a man clad in all black pacing in the hallway with his phone stuck to his ear. His expression—cranky and hard—is what gives him away.

Heart pounding, I start my approach. “Excuse me.”

The man’s curly head snaps toward me, a sharp line wrinkling his forehead.

“Do you know if Zander’s on this floor?” I don’t use his last name.

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