Last Breath
Other Books by Brandilyn Collins
Rayne Tour series
1 |
Always Watching
Books for adults
Dark Pursuit
Exposure
Kanner Lake Series
1 |
Violet Dawn
2 |
Coral Moon
3 |
Crimson Eve
4 |
Amber Morn
Hidden Faces Series
1 |
Brink of Death
2 |
Stain of Guilt
3 |
Dead of Night
4 |
Web of Lies
Chelsea Adams Series
1 |
Eyes of Elisha
2 |
Dread Champion
Bradleyville Series
1 |
Cast a Road Before Me
2 |
Color the Sidewalk for Me
3 |
Capture the Wind for Me
For Mark Collins, best husband and father in the world.
ZONDERVAN
Last Breath
Copyright © 2009 by Brandilyn Collins
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Zondervan.
ePub Edition August 2009 ISBN: 978-0-310-57847-5
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Last breath / Brandilyn and Amberly Collins.
p. cm.â(Rayne Tour series; bk. 2)
Summary: For sixteen-year-old Shayley, a dying man's last words about her long-lost father are almost worse than the violence and murders occurring during her famous mother's rock concert tour, and she is driven to find out if they are true.
ISBN 978-0-310-71540-5 (softcover)
 [1. MurderâFiction. 2. Fathers and daughtersâFiction. 3. PaparazziâFiction. 4. Single-parent familiesâFiction. 5. Rock groupsâFiction. 6. FameâFiction. 7. Mystery and detective stories.] I. Collins, Amberly. II. Title.
PZ7.C692Las 2009
[Fic]âdc22 Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 2009015212
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Interior design by Christine Orejuela-Winkelman
Dear Reader,
Glad to see you back for more of Shaley O'Connor's story. This sequel picks up right where the last one left offâat the concert in Denver's Pepsi Center. If you haven't read book one in the series,
Always Watching,
do that first! You've missed a lot of excitement.
Imagine a burning question in your life, a huge black hole you want to fill. That's how Shaley feels about her unknown father. Who is he? Where is he? Did he really do what he's been accused of?
It's time for Shaley to start learning some answers.
We'd love to hear from you after you've read the book. If you drop by our website at
www.brandilyncollins.com
, you can email us from there.
~ Brandilyn and Amberly Collins
Table of Content
Discussion Questions for Last Breath
Sunday 2009
Y
our father sent me
.
The last words of a dying man, whispered in my ear. Were they true? What did they mean?
Guitars blasted the last chord of Rayne's hit song, “Ever Alone,” as Mom's voice echoed through the Pepsi Center in Denver. The heavy drum beat thumped in my chest. With a final smash of cymbals, the rock song ended. Multicolored laser lights swept the stadium. Time for intermission.
Wild shrieks from thousands of fans rang in my ears.
I rose from my chair backstage. Tiredly, I smiled at the famous Rayne O'Connor as she strode toward me on high, red heels. In the lights her sequined top shimmered and her blonde hair shone. She walked like a rock starâuntil she stepped from her fans' sight. Then her posture slumped. Mom's intense blue eyes usually gleamed with the excitement of performing, but now I saw only sadness and exhaustion. How she'd managed to perform tonight, I'd never know. Except that she's strong. A real fighter.
Me? I had to keep fighting too, even though my legs still trembled and I'd probably have nightmares for weeks.
Your father sent me.
I had to find out what those words meant.
“You're a very brave young lady,” a Denver detective had told me just a few hours ago. I didn't feel brave then or now.
“You okay, Shaley?” Mom had to shout over the crowd's screams as she hugged me.
I nodded against her shoulder, hanging on tightly until she pulled back.
The applause died down. Voices and footsteps filled the stadium as thousands of people headed for concessions and bathrooms during the break.
Kim, the band's alto singer, laid a tanned hand on my head. A white-blonde strand of hair stuck to the pink gloss on her lips. She brushed it away. “How you doin'?”
“Fine.”
Our bodyguards Mick and Wendell walked over to escort Mom. Wendell's eyes were clouded, and his short black hair stuck out all over. He hadn't even bothered to fix it since the life-and-death chase in our hotel a few hours ago. He was usually so picky about his hair. Mick looked sad too. They both had been good friends with Bruce.
Bruce had been killed hours ago. Shot.
And he'd been trying to guard me.
My vision blurred. I blinked hard and looked at the floor.
“Come on.” Mom nudged my arm. “We're all meeting in my dressing room.”
Mick and Wendell flanked her as she walked away.
Usually we don't have to be so careful backstage. It's a heavily guarded area anyway. But tonight nothing was the same.
Kim and I followed Mom down a long hall to her dressing room. Morrey, Kim's boyfriend and Rayne's drummer, caught up with us. He put a tattoo-covered arm around Kim, her head only reaching his shoulders. Morrey looked at me and winked, but I saw no happiness in it.
Ross Blanke, the band's tour production manager, hustled up to us, along with Stan, the lead guitarist, and Rich, Rayne's bass player. “Hey,” Ross put a pudgy hand on Mom's shoulder. “You're doing great.” He waved an arm. “All of you, you're just doing great.”
“You do what you have to,” Stan said grimly. His black face shone with sweat.
We all trudged into the dressing room. Mick and Wendell took up places on each side of the door.
Marshall, the makeup artist and hairstylist, started handing out water bottles. Marshall's in his thirties, with buggy eyes and curly dark hair. His fingers are long and narrow, and he's great with his makeup tools. But until two days ago, he'd been second to Mom's main stylist, Tom.
“Thanks.” I took a bottle from Marshall and tried to smile. Didn't work. Just looking at him made me sad, because his presence reminded me of Tom's absence.