Chapter 27
“Seven Devils” - Florence and the Machine
Saylor
There’s an awkward tension in the bus, no doubt thanks to Rhett’s and my rather loud hookup in the bunk room and the fact that he hasn’t been able to keep his hands off me ever since. I can’t say I’ve forgiven him for what went down onstage last night, but here’s me hoping it’ll all blow over soon.
Rhett and I are sitting together on the sofa as he works on a new song.
The bus slows, and through the tinted windows I can see the streets of Houston surrounding us.
We’ve only been on the road a little over three hours, but I’m already sick of the stale recycled air in the bus.
I can’t wait to breathe in the sultry Texas heat.
The driver parks outside the music venue, and we all gather our things. I think the band is probably even more eager to leave the bus than I am.
I’m packing up my laptop when I notice a shift in the atmosphere. I glance up to see that Noah is on the phone, his face tight. The rest of the guys are also staring at him, as though they’re waiting on a verdict.
Noah ends the call. “That was security. We’re to stay inside the bus for now.”
“What?” Jamal does not mask his irritation very well. “What the fuck for?”
Before Noah can answer, Rhett hops onto the sofa and peers through the blinds. “Holy shit,” he says under his breath.
The others clamber over him to see what’s going on. The window in the kitchenette is closer to me and unoccupied, so I move over there to see what they’re looking at, and holy shit is right.
A sea of fans is being held back by no less than six security officers on the other side of the bus. Some of them look like they’ve been here for a while. The guards are doing what they can to keep them at bay, but the order to stay on the bus suddenly makes sense.
One of the guys whoops, but I don’t turn to see who. My gaze is focused on the signs being held up by the crowd. Most are some variation of “I love you, Rhett,” but a few are directed at me. “Sailor, who R U?” and “We want Saylor.” I release the blinds and take a step back.
Rhett appears at my side almost instantly. “You okay?” he asks, running his hand up and down my back.
I nod and swallow the lump growing in my throat. Am I okay? Definitely not. Am I going to tell him that right before what might be the biggest show of his life? Definitely not. I direct a blinding smile his way. “Great.”
He answers with a smile of his own, then drops his mouth to mine. “Since we’re stuck here anyway . . .” he murmurs.
I sniff out a laugh. “I think the band might stage a mutiny.”
He shrugs and leans in for another kiss. “Then they’d be out of a job.”
“Still, better not to risk it,” I say, unsure if I’m referring to the band or the state of my heart.
He groans and straightens. “You’re a vixen.”
Before I can respond, his phone rings. I can’t hear the voice on the other end, but given the way Rhett’s shoulders stiffen, I assume it’s someone from the record label.
“Uh, thank you, sir.” His eyes flash to mine before quickly darting away. “That wasn’t really my intention—”
There’s a pause as the other person interrupts.
Rhett’s face colors. “I’d rather not.”
They apparently don’t care whether he would or wouldn’t, because the color in his face deepens more the longer they talk.
Finally, he says, “That’s not happening,” and ends the call.
I raise a brow. “What was that?”
He shoves the phone into his back pocket. “They thought bringing you onstage was a ploy to increase ticket sales.”
“Wasn’t it?” I cross my arms over my chest.
His face goes the way a person’s might when they’re being accused of a terrible crime. “Of course not.”
I’m not sure if I believe him or not. Is he actually delusional enough to think he’s in love with me, and that’s why he did it?
* * *
Thirty minutes later, the security team finally lets us off the bus. They called in local law enforcement to help, and we won’t be allowed to leave the venue until after the show tonight.
We’re ushered into the greenroom, where I’ll be spending the rest of the day while the band practices and runs through sound check. At least I’ll have plenty of distraction-free time to focus on searching for jobs.
I’m too scared to open social media. After the shitstorm outside, I’m terrified to see what’s going on online.
Rhett needs to get a new social media manager, and he needs to do it soon.
We’re heading home in a matter of days, and I have no intention of sticking around to run his accounts after we get back. My heart couldn’t handle it.
Maybe I should spend some time looking for someone to take my place, because there’s no way Rhett can go back to doing it himself after this.
My phone rings just when my eyes are ready to bleed from staring at the screen. It’s my mum, and I’ve never been happier to hear from her in my life. I shift my laptop off my lap and stand as I accept the call. The makeup crew is setting up next to me, so I head out to find a quieter spot.
“Hi, Mum,” I say, closing the door behind me. I’m backstage now, where the band gathers before the show. It looks different than it will tonight, all lit up and bustling with people at the moment.
“Hi, baby.” Mum says something else too, but with the roadies setting up for the show, it’s too loud to hear.
I cover my other ear with my hand and move down the corridor. “What was that?”
At the end of the hallway, a neon-red exit sign glows, and after a quick glance around, I decide to risk it. The fans will all have disappeared by now. Besides, this is a rarely used side entrance. No one will even see me.
The door leads into a back alley holding several rubbish bins and surrounded by a chain-link fence. Not a place I’d want to visit at night, but it seems harmless enough in the middle of the day.
After Mum gives me the latest details about her and Dad’s travels, there’s a significant pause, then she says, “Anything you want to tell me?”
I realize now why she’s calling me. It’s not to catch up.
I pretend to search for an answer. “Nope, can’t think of anything.”
“Saylor, I’ve watched the videos.”
Oh, fuck. This is even worse than I thought. If she’d just read an article, I could have played it off as stupid celeb gossip. “What videos?” I say, because I’m stalling, not because I want to hear her say it.
“You kissed him. In front of cameras.” The tone in her voice says a whole lot more than her words do. What were you thinking?
“It was just an act, Mum.”
“And what kind of act is that?”
I sigh heavily into the phone. I don’t have the time or mental bandwidth to explain the whole thing to her now. Besides, she wouldn’t understand, even if I had all day. “It was his idea. He was just trying to please the crowd.”
“What about Nate, baby?” Her voice is quiet—too quiet.
I really don’t want to get into the dirty details of the divorce with her over the phone, certainly not when we’re separated by oceans, but she deserves to believe she raised me right. “I filed for divorce.”
There’s a beat of silence as she processes this, and I picture her covering her open mouth with her hand. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“It all happened kind of quickly.” Well, not that quickly, but I don’t want her to feel guilty about traveling. “I’ll explain more when you get home.”
“I’m worried about you, Saylor. We can come home if you need us to.”
I consider saying, “Yes please, I miss you,” but discard the thought just as quickly as it came.
They are on the trip of a lifetime, and I’m not about to ask them to cancel it because of a stupid boy—or rather two stupid boys—who broke my heart.
“I’m fine, really. I promise. You don’t need to worry. ”
“But honey, you know that’s what I do best.”
A chuckle slips past my lips. “Yep, I’m aware of that. Try to relax, though.”
She murmurs something, but a flash of movement on my right grabs my attention, and I miss her words. A guy has just rounded the corner of the alley and is headed my way. I ignore him and ask my mum to repeat herself.
She does, and we chat a bit more, until I realize the man is slowing his pace. I glance over at him, and when our eyes meet, the sides of his mouth pull upward into a creepy-ass smile. I frown and tell Mum I need to go.
“Okay, I love you. Make good choices,” she says. The line goes dead, and I’m left with the gravity of the mistake I’ve just made. This man does not appear trustworthy, and I just severed my only connection to another person. What kind of idiot am I?
The door into the building is between us, but I’m closer to it than he is. I bolt toward it and yank on the handle, but nothing happens. It’s locked. I curse myself for not propping it open. This is taking idiocy to a whole new level.
The man is still approaching. He leers at me, not even attempting to hide his glee. “Looks like it’s locked, honey.” His voice sends chills down my spine.
I unlock my phone and search for Leo’s number in my contacts.
“You don’t need to do that,” the guy says, moving close enough that I can smell the body odor emanating from him.
I stifle a gag and take a step backward. He moves faster, though, and swipes the phone from my hand. A small cry of protest leaves my lips.
“I’ll just hold on to this for a second,” he says, and slips it into the pocket of his jeans. “Now.” He takes another step closer, and I retreat until I’m pressed against the brick of the building with nowhere to go. “What’s a guy gotta do to get a kiss like the one you gave onstage last night?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I look down the alley to my right, but the street is a long ways off, and I have no doubt this man could outrun me. He’s got at least twelve inches on me.
He laughs, and the sound makes nausea churn in my gut. “Don’t mess with me, baby. I know who you are.”
Why didn’t I take those self-defense classes I kept meaning to sign up for? Because I couldn’t afford them, obviously. But I would rather have gone without food for a week than be in this position.
“I’m just on the makeup crew,” I say, jerking a thumb over my shoulder. “Came out here for a smoke break.”
His smile falters for just a second before he glances down. “I don’t see any cigarettes.”
“I’m feeling uncomfortable,” I say. “Please leave me alone.”
He chuckles as though I’ve just requested he bring me a Happy Meal. “Why don’t you stop talking now and do what we both know you’re so good at?”
I open my mouth to reply as he comes closer. I have to breathe through my mouth in order to avoid gagging from the stench. My mouth is as dry as the Sahara, but I try swallowing anyway. “And what’s that exactly?” It’s nothing more than a croak. I don’t have a hope of hiding my fear anymore.
“Why don’t I open my pants, and we’ll see.” The man leans that disgusting face closer, and I clench my hand into a fist, but I can’t remember if you’re supposed to tuck your thumb inside or not.
He runs one beefy finger down the side of my face, and I do my best not to let my shudder be visible. Fear will only egg him on, and repulsion will only make him rougher.
“Please,” I say. “Just leave me alone.” I settle for leaving my thumb outside. It seems like the safer option.
“You’ll be saying please when—”
The rest of his sentence is cut off by the door opening so hard and fast it slams against the brick on the other side.
Rhett barrels through, followed by Bear and Leo.
Before the PPOs can stop him, Rhett sends the man reeling backward with a single fist to the jaw.
He doesn’t even wait to see what kind of damage he’s inflicted, just grabs me and leads me back in, letting Bear and Leo handle the trash outside.
Rhett and I stop right inside the corridor, a single shaking mass. I’m not sure which of us is trembling harder. I clutch the front of his shirt and bury my face in his chest. His hands don’t stop rubbing my back, alternating between long strokes and gentle circles.
“I can’t decide if I’m angrier at you or Leo,” he says quietly.
I lift my head, unable to keep the sarcasm from my voice in spite of what almost happened. “Or maybe the perv outside?”
He glances down at me. “Oh, he’s going to die.”