Hold My Hand (Sequel to Saved: Adopted by Brendon Urie)

Chapter 21

The roar of the crowd was still ringing in Brendon's ears when he stepped offstage.

He was exhausted, sweaty, and riding the familiar rush that always came after a show. London had been incredible tonight. The audience had been loud enough that he'd felt them in his bones.

Normally, the first thing he did after a show was find Abby.

Thirteen years old, perpetually unimpressed by her father's theatrics, and somehow capable of making him feel more grounded with a single raised eyebrow.

He'd expected to find her backstage with her tutor, probably sitting somewhere with her headphones on and a book open on her lap.

She wasn't there.

Brendon glanced toward the usual waiting area.

Empty.

He pulled the towel from around his neck.

"Where's Abby?"

One of the crew members looked up. "Thought she was with you."

Brendon frowned.

"No. She was supposed to meet me here."

He pulled out his phone.

There was nothing from Abby.

Nothing from her tutor, either.

He called the tutor.

Once.

Twice.

The calls had all gone unanswered.

"Probably got held up getting through the crowd," someone offered.

Brendon nodded, because that was the reasonable explanation.

Of course it was.

London was packed tonight. The streets around the venue would be chaos. Maybe they'd stopped for something to eat. Maybe Abby had decided she was starving and convinced her tutor to find somewhere nearby.

He tried the tutor again.

Voicemail.

His stomach tightened.

"Can someone check the front?" he asked.

A security guard immediately moved toward the exit.

Brendon stood there, staring at his phone.

He told himself not to jump to conclusions.

He'd spent years learning how quickly fear could turn an ordinary moment into something catastrophic.

He'd lost his wife.

He wasn't going to let his mind take Abby somewhere it didn't belong.

But then the security guard came back.

"She's not outside."

Brendon looked up.

"What do you mean, she's not outside?"

"We checked the designated pickup area. Neither of them is there."

Brendon's fingers tightened around his phone.

"How long have they been gone?"

The guard hesitated.

"We don't know."

That answer landed harder than it should have.

Brendon looked toward the empty hallway where Abby should have been.