The crowd hushes down after their rapturous applause as Stokes sings again. “Leave me, but leave me some peace of mind. Tell me you’re really gone.”
“Leave you,” I whisper into the mic, keeping my eyes closed. “I’m leaving you behind, stop holdin’ on.” Stokes joins me for the last words. “Away with you. Away, with you. A way with you. Away.”
The audience erupts in applause, hooting, and hollering. I can barely hear anything above it, but Howard is watching—I know it—and I don’t want to open my eyes to see his creepy, smiling face.
Someone grabs my arm.
Chapter 16
But you can’t keep me inside.
I open my eyes and Stokes is holding my arm, smiling, but it fades into a look of concern. “You okay?” he mouths.
I nod, but he keeps holding my arm and leads me across the stage beside him. The others follow us to the stairs and the crowd gathers around the metal gate. Stokes guides me down the stairs, holding my hand tight. At the bottom, a man pushes us and breaks our grip, his beer spilling on my dress.
“Sorry!” he shouts and turns around with a mean scowl at the people behind the gate who pushed him, trying to get closer to us.
I try to follow behind Stokes, but a man hops the gate, coming between us. Security ushers Stokes away and he slips past the door with security into the hallway. I catch a glimpse of Howard through the crowd, standing still as everyone moves. A hand touches my waist, and I turn around, expecting someone from the band, but it’s a guy holding something. Two strange men flank me.
“Can you sign my back?” he asks, pushing a Sharpie in my face.
“Hey babe,” the other guy says and reaches for my hip. “Great show.” I step away, trying to get around them as security appears at the door, but the guy keeps grabbing at my waist.
“Get away from me,” I shout, but the crowd is too loud.
The guy reaches out again and a man steps between us.
Cline.
He turns back to me and nods toward the door, holding his arms out so the guy can’t get past.
A hand rests on my shoulder on my other side.
Jamie.
“Come on,” he shouts, and guides me the last few feet to the door, pushing it open for the rest of the band and me.
I stumble in, into Stokes’s arms.
“Hey, I’m sorry about that. They usually have better security.” He raises his voice to the security guy still holding the door open for Royal. “And security should make sure the women get through first!”
“Hey” —I hold his hand and pull him toward the room— “I appreciate it.” I turn back over my shoulder to the rest of the band and Jamie, in this Batman costume, a real hero. I make eye contact with Jamie and Cline. “Thank you.”
“Sloppy ass drunks,” Lucie grumbles. “I’d love to say it doesn’t come with the territory. Maybe in another decade, artists in music that aren’t white, straight men can feel safe. Won’t be this one. Mind you, that goes the same for everyone in the crowd and the bullshit they all deal with.”
“She’s shaken,” I hear Royal say in a hushed tone to Jamie. “Can you get her a hot drink?”
“Of course,” Jamie says, and splits off from the group as we enter the room again.
I take a seat on a chair where I left my bag and Stokes crouches beside me. The rest take chairs against the far wall.
“Seriously.” I look up at Cline. “Thank you.”
He shakes his head and cracks open a beer. “I’m used to it. Crowd sees a pretty girl and thinks they’re entitled to her.”
“It happened a lot with Pascha,” Lucie says. “Cline and Royal got used to being her personal bodyguards.”
“What about you?” I ask her.
“Happens from time to time, but usually Roy watches my back” —she smiles at him— “and I watch his.”
“I’m sorry I lost ya there,” Stokes whispers and I turn to him. “On stage, what happened?”
I massage the back of my neck and sigh. Do I really want to divulge it all to them?
“It’s not a big deal,” I mutter.
“Well, you don’t have to tell us, but I’d like to know if something’s bothering you.” Stokes rests his arm on my leg for balance. “Is it the song? Or the show?”
“No, nothing like that.” I play with my heart ring, staring down at it, and lick my lips. “Since a few days ago, I’ve felt like I’m being followed. Walking home, or even when I’m at home. I’ve only seen a car. Dark with tinted windows. It was by my place one night and the neighbours said it was out front last night, too. It could be someone who lives around there, but…”
Stevie at the neighbours. I dig my phone from my purse and check the time. Not even midnight yet. Good.
“Who would be following you?” Royal asks.
“I don’t know… nobody I know. It happened right after I joined you guys. Do you think it could be one of your fans?”
Stokes turns to me with a serious expression and opens his mouth but closes it again, shaking his head, and standing.
“What?” I ask, but Cline speaks.
“Pash sometimes felt like that.”
“Recently, before she left?” I ask.
“Not recent, no,” Cline says.
Royal takes off his mask. “I remember a few months ago when that fan came into the green room at Winburn, and it was just Pascha in there.”
Jamie strides in with a tray of drinks in hand. “Tea and coffee for whoever wants.”
I take a tea from the tray and stand, walking across the room to let out my nervous energy and get some space against the empty wall.
“Chamomile,” Jamie says. “I spoke to security, and that won’t be happening again. I’m sorry about that.”
I nod and sip my tea, pacing from my side of the room to his with my phone in my fist.
Stokes grabs two coffees and passes one to Lucie.
“Listen,” Jamie
