Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
I’m panting with anger, but I nod sharply and let Mal pull me out of the crowd and back out onto the street. People stare at us as we walk past, some of them taking a step back, like we’re about to blow up the fuckin’ stadium or go bat shit crazy and pull a gun. When we’re out of earshot, I turn around and growl, “Why the fuck have we been marked off the list? Supposed to be protecting her.”
“You two get into it?” Mal asks. “Is this her doing?”
I turn and shoot an icy glare at him. “I had my mouth between her fuckin’ legs last night, so that would be a fuckin’ no. It ain’t my doin’.”
“Atta boy!” Koda grins.
“Then why the fuck aren’t we allowed into her show?” Mal asks, scanning the area, eyes going over as many people as possible. I don’t know what he’s looking for, but he’s smart to keep an eye out.
Something is going down.
“Any chance they found out about you and don’t want her near you?” Koda asks.
“Possible,” I say, running my hands down my face and scratching at the hair growing on my chin that I really need to considering shaving soon or I’ll end up with a beard. “I did go to her hotel room last night. Someone might have seen me. Also, she did get busted sneakin’ out. Manager might be hangin’ onto her ass.”
“You call her?” Mal nods in the general direction of my pants pockets.
“Give it a go, but she wouldn’t have her phone on her when she’s about to start a show.”
“Have a try,” Koda says, pulling out a cigarette. “Otherwise, our best option is to stay out here and wait, but if we ain’t able to get close enough, we won’t be able to protect her.”
“No,” Mal mutters. “Could make it hard.”
I pull out my phone and call Scarlett. It goes straight to voicemail. Fuck it. I shove my phone back in my jeans. “No answer. We’re goin’ to have to just wait it out until I can find out what’s happenin’.”
Koda kicks back, leaning against a post. “Fine by me, plenty of lovely fuckin’ ladies here to watch for a while.”
I pull out a cigarette, lighting it. We’ll be here for hours, at the very least. Makes me wonder what the fuck is going down in there? Is she safe? Did they find out about us? They’ve singled us out for a reason, which tells me that they know and have decided it is not something they’re going to accept. My chest gets tight and I feel an unfamiliar anger and a little desperation explode in my chest.
I don’t like being held back from what I want.
I really don’t fucking like things getting in my way.
-16-
SCARLETT
I play, but I know they’re not here.
I know Susan made sure they weren’t allowed in the concert. I knew it the second I saw they weren’t there and fury exploded deep inside me. Because she has no right, none at all, to take people out of my life because she doesn’t agree on the company I keep. Better yet, she doesn’t get to take away my protection. I need those men, I don’t feel safe without them.
I put on a good show, because I will always give my very best to my fans. So, when I’m on stage, I zone out of everything else happening, and rock out an incredible show. By the time it’s done, I am more than ready to confront Susan and put this to bed once and for all. I am also going to need to find a way to contact Maverick, because he’ll no doubt be freaking out that he hasn’t gotten in contact with me, and that he wasn’t allowed into the show.
When I reach back stage, I move directly to my dressing room in search for Susan and mostly my phone so I can call Maverick. I wave to Amalie as I pass, and she gives me a happy, excited wave back. She’s loving joining in on the shows, and, as I knew she would, she’s doing an incredible job. She has a natural talent, but she also has something more—she has feeling, deep-rooted feeling, that makes it seem so much more powerful when she plays.
I reach my dressing room and go in.
I see Susan right away, my phone in her hand, scrolling. For a moment, I just stare, and then my ears start ringing and my skin prickles. My vision blurs with anger, and disappointment, and completely devastation. She’s my manager, but she has no right, none whatsoever, to go through my personal things, definitely not my phone.
“What are you doing?”
She spins around, phone still in hand, and for a moment she just stares at me with wide eyes, then she gathers herself, as Susan always can, and says, “I’m checking what you’ve been up to.”