Chapter Three
My Converse scuffs along the gravel pathway as I walk out to the street.
There are girls everywhere, and they’re screaming their lungs out.
I assume it’s fans out in front of the stadium waiting to be let in to see Colt and his band.
But after everything that’s happened, I don’t care.
I keep my eyes focused on the ground, feeling so lost, and I don’t know whether it’s from walking away from Colt or the grief from the breakup with Joseph.
Or is it something else entirely? I have no idea.
The screaming intensifies, and then someone tackles me. When I look up, girls all around me are pulling at my clothes and yelling.
Panic rises as they crowd me.
“You’re her! The girl who got into Colt’s Hummer,” one girl accuses.
“We saw your picture on Instagram. You’re Deliah Norman,” another points out.
“Are you really his new girlfriend?”
“Is he as good in the sack as he looks?”
“Can you get us backstage?”
“I hate you, you slut! He’s mine.”
“No, he’s mine.”
They all start yelling, and I’m unsure if it’s at me or each other.
Suddenly, my hair is yanked to the side, and pain ripples through me as I let out a slight squeal while these crazed lunatics push me around in a circle. They escalate their tactics, slapping me as they continue to pull my hair. At this point, I can’t hold back the tears even if I tried.
“Stop it, you’re hurting me,” I try to call out over their incessant yelling, but it doesn’t stop them.
They merely laugh and push me to the ground.
I let out a yelp as I land on my knees so violently that my jeans rip, and the tiny pebbles dig into my exposed skin, my palms skimming across the concrete.
“Hey!” a deep, demanding voice roars.
Then the screaming begins again, but even louder, if that’s possible.
The girls all rush away from me as I hold my head where they pulled my hair.
I look up to see two security guards making their way over, followed by a pack of screaming girls.
The guards finally make it to me, and one raises his hand to help me.
Someone’s pushing their way through the crowd of screaming imbeciles as I wipe my cheeks and straighten out my torn clothing.
“Dee… Dee,” Colt calls out frantically.
Looking up, I see him swarmed by those freaks and more security guards surrounding him.
He pushes past everyone to get to me as I stand here shaking.
“Dee, c’mon. Come with me,” Colt pleads, taking my hand and pulling me to his side.
He wraps his arm around me tightly, and the security guards circle us.
Hands are fighting to get a hold of Colt…
… and me.
I’ve never heard screaming like this in my life, and I’m scared, really scared. Actually, I’m terrified for my life.
This is utter madness, chaos, mayhem.
We rush toward the entrance of the building, and a security guy opens the door while the others hold back the evil minion fans, wanting to get a piece of us. It’s not until we are inside and the doors are shut, locking them out, that I finally feel relieved.
That was horrifying!
How did they know I was here?
And why would they think I am Colt’s new girlfriend?
This makes no sense.
The only thing I can think of was when I was getting into the Hummer, and those photographers were snapping pictures.
But how the hell would they know who I am to Colt?
“Jesus, Dee, what were you thinking?” Colt holds me at arm’s length and checks my body, maybe a little more overzealous than I like.
“I… ah—”
“For fuck’s sake, you’re bleeding.” He pulls off his shirt, causing me to drop my jaw at the sight of his deeply chiseled stomach. My eyes drift down to where his hips form that perfect V shape. He kneels in front of me and places his shirt on my knee.
“I… um—”
“Thank God, I found you in time. The fans… they’re awesome, but they’re also fucking lunatics.
You can’t just walk around anymore, Dee.
Haven’t you seen the internet? You’re headline news.
It’s not safe for you out there alone, especially at a concert where thousands of these brats are congregating.
You have to think smarter than this. Promise me you won’t go out on your own again? ”
“What?”
“Promise me, Dee.”
“I promise,” I reply more out of shock than making a true promise. I’m not taking anything in because he used two words that frighten the living heck out of me—Headline News. What on earth does headline news even mean? How is that possible?
That little piece of information has me scared, stunned, dazed—so much so that I’m riveted to the spot. I know Daddy reads the news online daily, and if I’m in the headlines, then…
He knows I’m associating with rock stars.
He knows about Joseph and me breaking up.
He knows I am off the rails.
No matter how I look at this, my life is ruined.
I pull my cell phone from my pocket, which has been on silent mode since last night, so I don’t feel or hear anything.
I look down at the screen and see there are…
Wait!
What?
Thirty messages and fifteen missed voice calls.
Okay, so they know!
The screen displays a few of them.
Father: Where are you?
Father: Ring me now!
Joseph: You are embarrassing me!
I flick my phone on, but the incessant dinging is too much, so I quickly turn it back to silent and pocket it again. I will deal with that later!
Colt creases his brows but says nothing other than, “Are you in pain?”
I shake my head. Truthfully, I can’t feel anything other than my pounding heart and my flight instinct. I’m so overwhelmed by the last fifteen minutes that I don’t even feel like I’m functioning.
“Dee, why did you leave? Were you gonna go without even talking to me?” The look of hurt in his eyes has me questioning my sanity.
“I… I—”
“You’re in shock. C’mon, up you come,” Colt insists, then leans down and lifts me, cradling me to his bare chest. I swallow hard, holding him around his neck. A security guard places Colt’s T-shirt back on my knee, and Colt carries me down the hallway.
My head’s spinning, and I think I am losing my mind.
Still carrying me, he walks into his dressing room, and the rest of the band looks over at us as we enter.
“Hey, man, no chicks, remember?”
“Shut the fuck up, dude. She’s just been attacked by the crazies outside.”
“Oh, shit! Dee, you okay?” the guy who looks like Colt asks.
“Pretty sure she’s in shock,” Colt replies, gently placing me on the couch. They all crowd around, and I try my hardest not to cry. Suddenly, the emotion of what just happened hits me hard, and my head turns fuzzy as I blink away any threatening tears.
Someone rushes in through the door and straight over to me. “Did you call for a medic?” she asks.
Colt looks at a security guard, and he nods. “Yeah, her knee is banged up, and she isn’t talking,” he relays as the medic looks down at my knee.
“Everyone out,” the medic says. The guys laugh, but she gives them a stern look. “I’m serious, get out,” she reiterates, and they stop laughing.
“I’m not leaving her,” Colt asserts as the other guys walk out of their dressing room.
“Look, I know who you are, and trust me, I’m a massive fan, but I will get security to remove you if I have to,” the medic states sternly.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. They both look at me, then at each other. “He can stay.”
The medic walks over and shuts the door. “Only if you’re absolutely sure, honey. I need to assess your knee, and the only way I can do that is to remove your jeans.”
She frowns, but I don’t care. I want Colt with me.
After I nod, reassuring her it’s okay, she helps me stand to take off my jeans.
I look at Colt, who’s eyeing my legs and appears to swallow hard.
Then he subtly rearranges his crotch, and I think I see a hint of a smile cross his face until his eyes gaze across my knee.
As I step out of my jeans, I’m standing in a black tank top, a now slightly torn yellow cardigan, and a pair of black lacy boy shorts. I sit back on the couch, and the medic gets to work digging out the pieces of gravel from my knee. It hurts, causing me to wince at the pain.
From where I’m sitting, I watch Colt walk over to the liquor counter, pull out a Jack Daniel’s bottle, and return, unscrewing the lid.
“Here, it’ll help with the pain,” he tells me while handing it to me. Even though the thought of alcohol is turning my stomach, the pain and the anxiety I’ve just been through make me take a giant mouthful of the amber liquid. I swallow, and my mouth catches fire, closely followed by my throat.
Heckity, heck, heck! I crinkle my face and stick out my tongue as I clench my eyes shut. “That’s disgusting. How can you drink that?”
Colt laughs. “I’m a man. It’s a man’s drink. If you can’t handle it, I can get you something else,” he says with a smirk.
It’s a man’s drink? Well, they can keep that all to themselves.
Still, I don’t want to show weakness, so I say, “No, I’m fine. I can handle it.” I take another sip of the awful stuff, and they both laugh as I scrunch my face again.
He comes over and sits on the sofa next to me. “You worried me for a second there,” he says as he rests his hand on my naked thigh. That surge of heat is back and flows through my legs all the way to my core.
“Sorry.” I bite my lip and look away.
“Don’t be sorry. But I want to know why you were leaving?” I look at the medic who’s busy bandaging my knee, and Colt gives her a side-eye, chuckling.
“She has an NDA and won’t repeat anything you say.”
The medic says, “Nope, I hear nothing and see nothing. It’s all part of the job.”
“Um…” I pause a little, not knowing how to even talk about this. “The Slayettes were telling me all about how, um… you… well—”
“Spit it out, Dee.”