Chapter 11
Riven
I knew Sloane was going to be here. Shortly after our meeting at the coffee shop, I received a call from Sabel saying that Sonus decided to take a closer look at the outliers from the concert.
Orders were given to host a last-minute meet and greet, sing a couple of songs, and make it believable with a photo op.
The participants were all to wear the vital trackers on their wrists like before.
Sabel explained that Sonus would instill a stronger frequency that should reach participants with a higher resistance to it.
It confirmed my suspicions of Sloane being an outlier, and I didn’t like the idea of any of it.
I considered arguing about the ethical ramifications, but thought better of it.
I’ve seen Sabel’s bad side, and unfortunately, she knows how to get me to stay in line.
While we were playing, I was trying hard not to notice how unaffected Sloane seemed to be.
When Sloane walks into the photo op with Lydia, I try hard to be unaffected by her presence.
I don’t need Sabel getting any ideas that might make Sloane an even bigger target than she’s quickly becoming.
I have a gut-wrenching suspicion that the stronger frequency didn’t affect Sloane at all, and I don’t even want to consider what Sabel might do with that knowledge once she gets the results.
If Sabel brought all of the outliers here to force a stronger frequency, she clearly doesn’t want anyone to remain an outlier.
I have a feeling that what Sabel and Sonus are testing goes much deeper than merchandise sales and popularity.
Sloane and Lydia walk over to where the guys stand against a backdrop for the photo op.
Sloane’s staring into my mask with a curious expression, but there’s a hint of fire burning behind her eyes.
It’s similar to the look she gave me, professor me, in the coffee shop when I grabbed her wrist. I don’t know what I was thinking, honestly.
I needed to touch her, to feel the way her skin felt against mine. That was a mistake.
“Okay.” Ashley, our media manager, looks down at her clipboard. “We have Sloane and Lydia, is that correct?”
“Yes.” They respond in unison. Lydia is beaming, clearly ecstatic.
“Alright. We’ll have Sloane stand here next to Van, and Lydia over here next to Graf.
” Ashley motions for the girls to step forward.
I see Callum stiffen slightly as Lydia half walks, half jogs up beside him and links her arm around his waist. She leans in closer to him.
Cal’s not exactly the “people person” of the group, so this should be fun.
It’s my turn to stiffen as Sloane heads straight for me.
Sloane pauses in front of me, shifting awkwardly like she’s uncertain where to stand.
The way I seem to make her nervous is … cute.
I nod my head to my left to motion for her to stand there.
Sloane moves into place and leans away from me and into Lydia.
It seems like she doesn’t want to be anywhere near me, and I can’t help but see that as a challenge.
I wrap my left arm around the back of Sloane’s waist, pulling her into me with a little more force than I intend.
She sucks in a breath, her gaze shooting up to my mask.
I don’t look down at her. Instead, I move my hand just a little further down until I find the waistband of her shorts, brushing a single finger between the fabric and her skin.
She shudders beside me, and I can’t help myself as I pull her closer to me.
Before she can do or say anything about it, Ashley interrupts.
“Okay. Everyone look forward at the camera and smile in 3 … 2 … 1.” Flash. “All done, ladies. You can drop your armbands in the basket on the way out. We’ll send the picture to the email given at entry. You can expect it in a few days.”
Sloane doesn’t linger. She can’t seem to get away from me fast enough as she rushes toward the door. I itch to grab her, but refrain. Not here, not now. Lydia is, however, still standing next to Callum. There seems to be some strange tension between the two of them before Cal abruptly pulls away.
“Thanks, big guy,” Lydia chimes, patting him on the chest before following after Sloane. I internally laugh at the exchange. I’m sure Cal is loving this.
The girls exit the room, and before the door fully closes, I hear Sloane say to Sabel, “Hi. I was wondering if maybe I could speak to Van, or the music producer, for a few minutes after the event.”
No. No, no, no. This cannot be happening right now. I have to do something before Sabel digs too deep, or Sloane reveals too much about her work. I don’t have time to think, so I barge out of the door and interrupt the conversation. I grab Sabel and pull her back into the room.
“Vantros, what do you think you’re doing?” Sabel runs her hands down her skirt like I somehow managed to disturb the perfect fabric in the last two seconds.
“Sloane asked for an interview. I’ll do it,” I spit out.
“Hmm.” She eyes me skeptically, raising a brow as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Why would you do that?”
“Well, um …” I pause, racing to come up with an answer.
“She works for Obsidian Press, and her boss called to request an interview. She’s doing a story on the healing properties of music,” I lie.
“That’s also why she attended the concert.
It slipped my mind earlier when you called. I’m sorry. I meant to say something.”
Sabel uncrosses her arms and steps forward, considering me. She’s sniffing around for a lie like the wolf that she is. I can only hope that the lie was good enough to throw her off the scent.
“Okay, I don’t know what this is,” she says, twirling her finger around in a small circle in front of her, “but I’ll allow it.
I’ll expect a full report of the interview on my desk, of course.
I’ll escort Ms. Keenan to the staff room to wait for you.
” She takes a step back and then pauses, a sinister smile playing across her lips.
“Oh, and Riven, I wouldn’t do anything stupid if I were you,” she says, walking out of the room.
We get through the rest of the photo ops. The whole time, my mind is on the pretty redhead who I know is in the staff room waiting for me. As soon as we’re done, I head to the back door to go to her. Callum stops me.
“So, Wanna explain what’s going on?” Callum deadpans.
“Dude. Are you banging that hot redhead reporter girl you told us about?” Raithe jokes.
Kai walks out of the bathroom now, late to the conversation. “Where ya going, man? I thought we were all going to grab food after this.”
I pause with my hand on the doorknob, turning back to face them.
“No, Raithe. I’m not fucking her. Get your head out of the gutter for once. And yes, Cal, I will. I promise. But not right now. Just trust me, okay? I’ll meet you guys at the restaurant after, Kai.” I open the door and walk out without giving them the chance to argue.
I make it to the staff room in a few strides and walk in.
Sloane straightens, head snapping to me as she pockets her cell and stands.
Her cheeks flush a light shade of pink as she trails her eyes over me.
I’m still wearing my stage outfit, mask included.
When I go to speak, I make sure to deepen my voice in disguise. It comes out gravely.
“Ms. Keenan.” I extend my hand and clear my throat. “Sit.” I motion to the sofa positioned behind her. She obeys, crossing one leg over the other and pulling a pen and notepad out of her cross-body bag. She begins writing something at the top of a blank page.
“Look, I know you were told to wait in here for an interview, but I think that you might be in danger.” That gets her full attention. She looks up, eyes wide with panic.
“Danger? From who, you?” she spits out. She’s trying to look unbothered, but the repeated clicking of her pen is giving her away.
It’s also getting on my last nerve. I snatch it out of her hand and toss it over my shoulder.
Her pretty mouth opens on a gasp before she snaps it shut and fixes a furious glare at me.
I knew she was hiding that fire somewhere. Good, she’ll need it.
“No. Not me,” I say, although that could be fun. I scold my inner thoughts. Get back on track. This is not the time.
“Things are going on here that are hard to explain. I need you to come with me,” I say.
She looks utterly shocked, huffing out a sarcastic laugh. “You want me to just … come with you? Are you serious right now?” She doesn’t stand, and it pisses me off.
“I can explain once we get there. But we have to go. Now,” I grit out, tone laced with urgency. I take a step toward her, and she stands, wiping her palms down the length of her shorts. She narrows her eyes at me.
“What are you doing? You weren’t going to … manhandle me out of here, were you?” She laughs sarcastically, not realizing that I was definitely about to manhandle her ass out of here if she didn’t follow me.
“You would have liked that, wouldn’t you?” I tease.
I don’t know why I said it. Perhaps part of that personality disorder is rearing its ugly head again. I am so fucking glad I did, though. Because her cheeks flush that pretty shade of pink again. Shit.
I’m wondering what other parts of her are flushed when she looks at me and stutters, “N-No. Definitely not.” She straightens, head held high. She’s good at pretending, I’ll give her that. I can’t just keep my damn mouth shut, and I kind of enjoy seeing the red burning behind those green eyes.
So, I say, “Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep better at night, little nightmare.”
She looks positively infuriated now, and I hope she’s about to say something feisty. And as much as I really want to hear it, we don’t have time. We have to leave now before Sabel makes it back to the headquarters and reviews the data from today.
“Follow me,” I say. She presses her lips into a thin line, scowling at me, but obeys.
Good girl.