17. Kelsey
Kelsey
Riot struts around the stage while he belts out ‘Chokehold’ and encourages the audience to participate. Every time I hear this song my teeth hurt. He changed it for her. Gave her the song I once considered mine. And then he gave her the man I was in love with too.
Honestly, hearing it makes me want to go a little stabby-stab on him.
And yet, I’m still more relaxed waiting in the wings at tonight’s concert than I was the one in L.A.
Carmine and the other execs aren’t here.
And I’m almost four hundred miles away from Marco.
That doesn’t mean I am safe, but the risk factor drops with every passing mile he doesn’t catch up to me. I can’t help but to appreciate that.
Even if I see poor Heaven and Loverboi in the quiet moments when I’m not preoccupied. And I have to put up with my asshole ex.
He’s not going to give me my shoebox back.
Any hope I had that he would do the decent thing was dispelled last night when I did what he wanted, and he made it clear he wanted much more from me.
It doesn’t matter. I don’t need his permission to retrieve my personal effects.
I only need the chance to look for them.
There’s a good chance—since he hasn’t picked through them—that I’ll be able to get it back without him discovering my secrets.
He’s stopped working the crowd to zero in on one specific fan.
Crouching at the edge of the stage, he passes the microphone back and forth from his mouth to hers, encouraging her to sing certain parts.
She might be in love with him when he stands, stretches his arm down to her, and pulls her onto the stage to finish the last verse.
Because you have me in a chokehold, baby
Addicted to your grip
There’s no going back
I can’t breathe without you
I’m on my knees, darlin’. I’m all yours and now you see
I’m in too deep
To ever wanna be free
The crowd joins in on the chorus. The arena is packed with thousands of voices harmonizing. I used to believe this song was profound. Fans reacted to it because it really meant something to Riot.
What a joke.
The song ends and the girl throws herself into the hug he offers. She practically melts when he kisses her cheek.
He never stops performing. It’s always about his ego and being the biggest rockstar.
Even if he hadn’t cheated on me with Sonatina we would never have lasted with him constantly on the road and there being a new girl in every city looking at him with the same intensity as the woman he’s helping off the stage.
“We’re going to play you a new song. It’s a little rough around the edges,” he says.
The crowd doesn’t care. They go wild.
“It still needs some work. It’s called ‘Ruins’.”
I’m not sticking around to listen to another one of his angry rants about me that he’s set to music. The crowd might love the new songs, but I don’t have to.
Jasper falls into step with me. “He ordered you to the green room after the concert.”
“What if I don’t go? What if I go to the bathroom and you don’t see me sneak out?”
“Except that we both know I would,” Jasper says.
I huff out a breath. “What if we go to the bus until the end of the concert and then you can bring me back to the green room?”
He chews the idea over. “Sorry, Kelsey. The record label is my boss. That means I listen to them or L.A. Riot depending on the situation.”
“I don’t factor.” Because I’m neither. “I’m a prisoner to Riot’s whim, aren’t I?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he says. “Give it time. He’ll start to trust you again.”
“That’s rich.” If anyone shouldn’t trust the other it’s me who shouldn’t trust him. But whatever. I slip into the green room where there’s a couple of tables set up against the wall with refreshments for while the band meets and greets its fans.
I press my hand to my belly as I check it all out while Jasper practically melts into the wall. Snagging a bottle of water, I twist off the lid and take small sips to settle the nausea of memories I wish I could forget.
The last time I was in a room like this I was the band’s manager. Riot and I were seeing each other behind everyone’s backs. And I was about to find out I was pregnant. It was also the first time Sonatina threw herself at him.
I blink back the familiar overflow of pain.
The future and family I wanted had been within my grasp.
Everything I had ever wished for was right in front of me.
Until it was ripped cruelly from my reach.
He got to keep all his dreams while mine were destroyed.
I gasp for air. The hurt over everything that has happened making it hard to breath.
I can’t be in here. I need air. Dropping the open bottle of water, I bolt towards the door.
Jasper grabs my elbow when I attempt to walk straight past him. “Sorry, Kelsey. I can’t let you out of my sight.”
“You do what you need to, but I’m not staying here. Riot can’t make me. And neither can you.” If he still has any regard for me, he won’t get in my way. He’ll probably just follow.
He reluctantly releases my arm. “Fine.”
The concert is over and people are leaving. The walkway is full as I head for the exit that will take me to the buses. Fans head out to find their cars or transport home.
I duck away when someone stares at me too long, brows pinched over the bridge of their nose.
Going to the bus with so many people around who may recognize me is too problematic. I’m not worried they’ll attack me like the idiot at the bus stop the other night did.
But the last thing I need is to be spotted. And it looks like that’s exactly what is happening when someone raises a camera and directs it at me.
My pulse sprints. I tuck my chin down and let my hair fall in my face. It’s not a me thing to do, but I can’t get caught on social media. The longer my whereabouts are unknown, the better. I hunt for the next way off the walkway and back into the stadium.
“Hey,” someone calls out.
Great. I mentally roll my eyes while I try to appear calm and relaxed. Once one of them notices it won’t be long for more to realize I’m familiar for a reason.
“Is that her? The ex?” one woman asks another she’s walking with when I pass them.
“Couldn’t be. Could it?” the other’s voice follows me. “What would she be doing at one of his concerts?”
“I really think it is.”
I glance over my shoulder to see they’re trying to keep pace with me.
“It is,” the first woman says.
“You shouldn’t be here, bitch,” the second one raises her voice.
More people focus our way. Jasper has fallen too far behind and is trying to weave his way through a large group.
That’s fine though. I am used to protecting myself. An entrance from the walkway into the interior of the arena appears up ahead. I break into a run.
“Yeah. You’re a bitch,” a shrill female voice follows me from the walkway back into the main part of the arena. “No wonder he fell for Sonatina over you. Those two were perfection,” her taunt stays with me into the passageway between the snack shops and the seating.
Holy shit. Is that what they think?
“It’s a pity they broke up,” her friend says.
“I still have hope.”
I spin around to make sure they haven’t trailed me.
A full free breath expands my lungs when I’m all alone.
For the first time in days, there is no one threatening me or following me.
I’m not spinning out about whether Marco is concealed in the next shadow.
This is the closest I will get to free until Riot has finished writing L.A. Riot’s next album.
I wander around the vacant food stalls for a while. Now that there’s no need for Jasper to catch up, he’s done that thing where he chameleons himself into the background to keep my space protected.
I check out the posters for the next few big concerts that will be held here. There are plenty for L.A. Riot too. I can’t go more than ten feet without catching sight of his smug face.
Ugh, that look is the same one he leveled at me last night after he tricked me into sucking his cock. He had no intention of giving my things back. He wanted to humiliate me. He’s such an asshole.
I open my purse and retrieve the marker. I might not need the backup for the guys to sign autographs, or whatever other band related situations markers used to come in handy for, but they’re still perfect for my current purpose.
Uncapping the thick, black pen I rise on tiptoe and start to draw my usual signature.
The curves and lines of the dick are bigger because the posters in the arena are huge compared to the ones in bus stops and plastered on walls around the city.
Once I have the main shape, I add a split at the top and dot lines of spunk hitting his face.
I finish it off with a huge pair of hairy balls.
I step back to admire my work, but something is missing.
Not the mustache, which I chose to forgo.
My graffiti isn’t giving me the release it normally would.
Not after last night when he tricked me into getting on my knees for him.
Or the night before where he dared me to suck Bronx’s cock and then ordered everyone to treat me like a leper.
“Fuck you, Riot Maddox.” I press the inky tip of the marker to the poster again and draw out a word in big bold letters, BULLY.
A hand wraps around my upper arm before I can add cheater.
Oh crap. Marco. A rush of adrenaline spikes through me. I break into a sweat. Black spots dance in front of my eyes. I react out of instinct, punching backwards and aiming for soft and squishy.
“Of course you’re the one vandalizing our posters.” Riot catches my fist before I make contact. His chest rumbles when he speaks. “Did you hit all of the ones in L.A.?”
My crippled lungs pull in oxygen again. Riot, not Marco. The lesser of two evils.
My heart begs to differ. Marco was always a monster, and he caused me a lot of traumas. But Riot was the one I trusted. The one I saw as my friend. I gave my heart to him. And he destroyed it all. In many ways Riot hurt me far more than Marco ever could.
But in the way that matters right this second, Riot won’t murder me for something I’ve seen.
Or done.
“I tried.” Warmth radiates through me at his annoyance.
His heavy breath stirs the hairs on the top of my scalp as he pins me to his poster with his body. “And have you had fun, Little Vandal?”
I smile from ear to ear. “Very much so.”
“Good. I hope it was worth it.” He guides my hands up above my head, capturing them in one of his.
A gush of hot arousal has me clenching my thighs. I don’t want him to know he can still affect me like this. Even though I doubt there’s any way he doesn’t notice.
He steps back.
I shriek when his palm makes contact with my right ass cheek. The sting of it burns my eyes. My clit on the other hand throbs like it’s the best sensation in the world. “Get the fuck off me.”
Crack. His hand lands again, causing me to jump. My insides clench, too aware of the emptiness inside. “Did you think I would let it go when I caught you?”
“I didn’t plan on getting caught.” I grind my teeth. “I didn’t plan on ever seeing you again.”
“Maybe that was the case in L.A.” He brings his hand down on my ass one more time, but this time he rubs soothing circles over the flesh that take the sting out of the heat. He presses in nice and close. “But you knew you would be tonight.”
Awareness floods me. I did know there was a possibility he would catch me. That he would react. What does that say about me?
“Punishment is over. For now.” He lets me go. “Time to get on the bus.”