by Leah Spiegel
“I’m sorry,” he said when he came back out to us. “I didn’t expect that.”
He put his hands on his hips while shaking his head.
“I really don’t want to be back there, now.” Riley spoke up first; he aimed a sideways glance over at Harlow and I nodded along in agreement.
“Surely we can go somewhere else,” I asked.
“No, it’s the safest place,” Hawkins explained. “Most nights you won’t even be among the crowd.”
We had been to enough concerts now that we understood what he meant. The platforms just below the top of the pavilion were where the lighting crew usually gathered except for in stadiums.
“Rob is just in a bad mood. It will pass. I hope you don’t mind staying with him and some of the other crew back here.” He looked down at me hesitantly. “The band was planning to start rehearsal soon.”
“You guys need to focus or whatever.” I nodded. “We don’t want to be in the way.”
Hampton crossed the lawn towards us. “Oh, that would be for you.” Hawkins smiled. “He’ll be tagging behind you guys tonight.”
“If you insist.” I smiled up at him.
“I do.” he smiled back.
“Well, I have to go.” He thumbed towards the stage while starting to walk away. “Bye.”
He made it three steps, turned around and jogged back to give me a peck on my forehead.
“Bye,” I cheesed.
Riley and I were left standing there with Hampton. Smiling up at the bodyguard, I was surprised that we didn’t get Heath Miller or someone further down the chain of command. By the big ole scowl on his face, he was wondering the same thing. His massive muscles were pulled tightly together across his chest. Man, these guys were intimidating.
“Well, okay.” I turned my attention back to Riley. Through the corner of my eye, I saw Harlow steal another glance in Riley’s direction before immersing himself with that “thingy” in his hand. Riley looked like he was about to be sick so I decided that we could at least hang out in the van, even if we couldn’t drive in it any longer. Looping my arm through Riley’s, I led him across the stadium’s field before he actually did throw up.
“Why don’t we go back to the van?” I suggested.
“He hates me.” Riley hung his head.
“He doesn’t even know you,” I was quick to answer.
“How can I sit back there when I know he doesn’t want me there?” he asked as we made our way up the small staircase to the side of the stage, trying to avoid any oncoming traffic. “I think I’d rather take my chances with The Grimm Reaper. It couldn’t hurt any less.”
“Riley, you don’t mean that,” I said seriously.
“No, I do,” he murmured.
The crew was working like they were swinging from trapezes above us. I heard Hampton huff behind us and I really couldn’t blame him.
“We’re just going back to the van,” I called over my shoulder at him.
He attempted to smile at me, but it came out more like a grimace. We exited the stage, and then headed down the hallway towards the parking lot. Crew members were rushing past us in both directions. It was no wonder that no one could identify The Grimm Reaper. If there was a Mecca for big, built, and gruff kind of guys then this would be it.
Pushing past the doors, I grabbed a defeated Riley’s hand and squeezed it as he stared dejectedly down at the ground. We headed over to the old beast that had recently weathered the insane havoc of gunshots with flying colors. Unlocking the door, I then tossed the keys over to Riley. Hampton continued to stand there. Surely, he didn’t have to wait on us?
“Really, it’s okay,” I told Hampton. “We’ll be fine.”
Hampton wiped the sweat off his brow before looking down at his wrist watch. “I’m sorry, but I was instructed to stay close by.”
“Yeah, well, what Hawkins doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” I smiled.
“My orders come from Wayne.”
“Wayne?” I said with surprise. “What, does he want my social, too?” I laughed.
“Huh?” Hampton asked me like I was speaking Japanese.
“Never mind,” I replied and got inside the van. “Do you want us to open the side door so that you can sit down?”
He looked offended by just the suggestion alone. “I guess that’s a no,” I said to myself as I closed the door. I looked over at Riley, “You seem to be coming around again.”
Riley quickly opened the door and threw up outside the van.
“Ah, spoke too soon.” I stared ahead and waited for him until he got it together.
“I think, I’m just over heated,” he gulped.
“Is that what we’re calling it now?” I smirked. “Overheated?”
“Shut it.” He fought back a smile. “That was awful.”
“That didn’t seem to stop Harlow from checking you out though, did it?” I grinned even wider.
“Girl, what were you smoking?”
“Oh, yeah, he did,” I assured him. “I don’t think you realize how you come across to people.” I glanced out at the parked line of cars in front of us. “You look all stoic and cool. I’m going to start calling you Mr. Unapproachable.”
“It’s more like being paralyzed with fear, but wide awake,” he explained.
“Sounds painful.” I smiled.
“Oh, god, it is.” He leaned back in his seat.
“It worked for Harlow,” I sang. “Oh, no please!” I started to mimic him. “Don’t let this really hot guy stay back here with me all night. I won’t be able to concentrate. Please, no!”
“I wish,” Riley groaned as he ran both his hands through his tousled, sandy brown hair to push it back off his face.
“Careful what you wish for, then.”
Riley took a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the back of the sun visor. He grimaced at what he saw, sighing in frustration before he flipped the visor back up.
“You get that you’re hot, right?” I asked him.
“I haven’t showered in days.” He rubbed his hand along his five o’clock shadow. “And this is not hot.”
“Really? Gay guys don’t like sexy, scruffy faces? Because we girls definitely do!” I tousled his hair. “Let me get some of Lizzie’ hair gel in the back.”
Ten minutes later, I was running my fingers through his hair while we faced each other on the cot in the back. Leaning back, I admired my work.
“Look, it’s Twilight hair!” I smiled as he moved Lizzie’s compact mirror around to admire my work. “You look hot.”
“Now, I just need to change into a clean shirt.” He hiked the shirt up over his head revealing his pronounced, tan, muscular chest.
“Okay, if you want to stun him tonight,” I widened my eyes, “do that.”
He chuckled to himself while rummaging through his duffle bag for another white V-neck t-shirt. Hey, if it works, why change it? He doused himself with Axe body spray before pulling a clean shirt over his shoulders and down his tight abdomen.
“Does it feel weird that I’m shamelessly checking you out?”
“No, I’m used to it by now.” He grinned.
Just then I heard a knock on the back of the van door. I turned around to see Kosic who looked like one of those cat clocks where their eyes darted back and forth. “Umm, am I interrupting something?”
“Sadly, no,” I sighed.
“Rumor is that you’re being held captive here.” Kosic smirked as he held up a pizza box.
“Is that for us?” My stomach grumbled at just the thought alone.
“No, it’s for your bodyguard here,” he snorted before he came around to the side door of the van. Taking the pizza box, that smelled mouthwatering, I opened it and grabbed a slice before passing it over to Riley.
“Who told you that we were here?” I asked while brushing a couple shattered pieces of glass off the ledge before carefully sitting along the ledge of the side door.
“Ah,” he scanned the parking lot, “who else would
drive this piece of…”
“Careful,” I interjected.
Kosic was about to laugh when suddenly his face fell. He looked over my shoulder at a bullet hole in the side of the van. “He shot at you?”
Glancing over my shoulder to look at the side of the van where a bullet had riveted through the metal. “Yeah, a few times actually. That’s how the windows got busted.”
Kosic balled his fists so tightly together that his knuckles turned white. He went to speak, but stopped himself. His chest rose and fell with a fixed concentration. He looked like he wanted to punch something hard. “Are you? Are you okay?” He looked at me intently with his nose flaring.
“Now I am,” I said to calm him down. “I take it that everyone is talking about it?”
“Yes,” he muttered while still in fight mode. “But no one mentioned the gun shots.”
“Wonderful.”
“Well,” his tone lifted. “I just wanted to check in on you before Hawkins sweeps you away from all us little people again.”
“Hawkins?” I pretended to be clueless.
“You were never very good at lying.” Kosic winked at me.
Scrunching my face up, I tried not to crack a smile. How did he hear about us?
“Later.” He pushed off the side of the van and waved as he left.
Once Kosic left, we overheard Hampton muttering outside, “I’m stationed out by their van.” Shortly after, he came around to the side of the van. “They need me up in security. I should be back before the show starts. Just stay here,” he instructed before jogging off.
“What happened to not being able to leave our side?” I asked Riley.
“Yeah, a lot of people aren’t doing what they’re supposed to, are they?”
“What do you mean?” I asked as we both grabbed up another slice.
“How did The Grimm Reaper get past security and the crew?”
“Have you seen him? He looks just like all the rest of them.” I dramatically widened my eyes as I discarded the tomatoes off the slice and nibbled on it.
“Yeah, to us, but when you work with the same people night after night, day after day?” he questioned.
“That’s true,” I agreed.
“No one is just walking into this place. Look at the situation like it is the seating arrangement,” he explained. “You can’t even get up to the seats in the second pavilion without a ticket and we all know those are the shit seats.” He held his shoulders out like, come on now. “It’s layer after layer of security just to get down to the orchestra pit where they watch everyone like a hawk. Hell, some nights they take signs away so it doesn’t obscure their view of everyone in front of the stage.” He chomped on the crust of his pizza. “I once heard that at a Jonas Brothers’ concert they knew a woman twelve rows back was mentally ill. They warned them not to make eye contact with her.”
“Wow! Wait…you went to a Jonas Brothers concert?” I smiled.
“Shut it.” Riley suddenly became preoccupied with his slice of pizza. “But, you get the idea. No one just shows up and pretends to be someone they aren’t.” He sighed. “Because that’s how, in this case, a person got killed.”
“And how is it that no one has a record of him with you and Lizzie backstage? You guys didn’t know Cyrus wasn’t Monroe, but he still had to be allowed back.”
“Yeah.” I narrowed my eyes as I finished my last bite and rubbed my hands together. “That is weird. I remember overhearing Woodley wondering the same thing that night I tried to identify Cyrus.”
“This means that he can’t be doing this alone.” He looked distractedly out at the greenery that faced away from the parking lot.
“Riley, no one from security or the crew is going to let one of their own get killed.”
“You think? What about for five million dollars?” His eyes suddenly peaked. “My boss told me that everyone in the crew is being interrogated by the police. Security for the band is starting to wonder if The Grimm Reaper has a few people helping him from within.”
“Wow, you’ve been busy,” I noticed.
“Of course I have, Joie, if what Hawkins says is true then you’re next.” He looked at me intently. “Plus, what do you think there is to do while Lizzie and you are off gallivanting with the band and I’m stuck by myself in this hot, sticky van?”
“Well, you’re not staying by yourself from now on.”
“Yeah, I am because voyeurism isn’t my thing.” He cleared his throat and smiled.
“Whatever.” Rolling my eyes, I thought about Cyrus again. “I can’t believe that something as stupid as a little blogging put my life in jeopardy.”
“That’s not what did it.” Riley’s eyebrows knitted together. “It’s because of your relationship with Hawkins.”
“All we have done before today was fight on the internet,” I said in my defense.
“You two have sexual chemistry on the internet. All you’re missing is the makeup sex. People love it,” he continued. “They can’t get enough of it. The only people who are clueless as to what brought the two of you together are Hawkins and you, apparently.”
Laughing, I bit my lip, I wasn’t sure I agreed, but I liked that he thought that. “You know, truthfully, I don’t want to blog about Hawkins anymore.”
“I know,” he murmured. “I wouldn’t want to share the details of my love life either.”
“But Lizzie is getting restless.” He exhaled loudly. “I’m not sure how much more of this she can take. She’s never had to work this hard to get a guy before.” He sighed. “I just hope she doesn’t do something stupid.”
“More than she already has?”
“Yeah.” He threw his hands up in the air. “It’s Lizzie.”
“Speaking of which,” I said. “Where is she?”
“What time is it?” Riley shrugged while looking down at his wrist watch. “Oh, shit, we need to get seated.”
“Well, I’m not going to another concert like this.” I pulled down my shirt with Hawkins’ face across it. Grabbing up my navy blue book bag, I proceeded to dump the contents out on the cot. “I have nothing to wear that’s clean,” I mumbled when something was tossed off the cot and clinked off the metal of the van below.
“You could always wear one of my t-shirts,” he offered.
“Or we could stop at the laundry mat.” I pushed the clothes to the side.
“Even my clothes want me to wash them. Look, they’re throwing money at me.” I wrapped my fingers around the coin and held it up.
Both our eyes suddenly narrowed as we looked at the thick round metal piece about the size of a quarter, but without any inscription on it. Riley plucked it out of my hands, glaring down at it.
“Did this come from your bag?” He suddenly sounded troubled.
“Yeah.”
Riley grabbed the bag and turned it inside out. He felt along the silken interior material, but didn’t find any others.
“You think someone planted that thing in my bag?”
“Someone had to of, Joie.” His eyes flashed up to mine. “This is a tracking device.”
I was speechless, but it all made perfect sense. “So that’s how Cyrus found us.”
“Probably.” He pressed his lips together grimly.
“But who put it in my book bag?” Then Hampton popped into my mind remembering that I had given it to him to leave in the SUV.
“What about the van the night you thought Cyrus raided it, did you have your bag?” Riley asked.
“I don’t know?”
“Joie, think,” he pressed me.
“It would have been the night when we were on the roof with Hawkins.” I tried to replay what I could remember of the day, but all the days were starting to blend together. “I don’t know.”
“And the only other time you left it with someone else was that night Hampton offered to take it, right?”
“Yes.”
“If you didn’t leave your bag in the van that night, that means that Hamp
ton is invested in your whereabouts way more than he should be.”
“Speaking of which,” I pulled back the side curtain, “where is he now?”
We both perked up in the back to scan the parking lot in front of the van, but we didn’t see him anywhere. In fact, we didn’t see anyone in the parking lot. The sun was already setting across the sky. A couple overhead lights flickered on and off.
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to try to find the lighting booth in the dark,” I said hesitantly.
“I’ve been shot at enough today, if that’s what you mean,” Riley said tensely. “I’ll get the back door.”
Riley peeked his head out of the busted back window and darted a sideway glance over at the buses. He suddenly crouched down at the spot. He threw a cautious look over his shoulder at me.
“What is it?” I mouthed.
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “Let’s just get out of here.”
He quickly guided me out of the side of the van. “Riley, are you sure?”
He hushed me as he pulled me across the parking lot. We walked past the buses when Riley suddenly stopped, spraying gravel below. The quick motion jerked my arm back when I had continued to walk because I was still holding Riley’s hand. I went to say something a typical girl would say like “ow” when he held a finger up to his lips. He was staring at the buses to our left like a hawk. “I thought I heard something.”
“SHHAACK!” We both quickly looked over at the metal fence behind the buses since it sounded like someone had bounced off the fence and ran. We bolted for the backstage entrance. When we reached the door, Riley pulled it back for me and I collided hard into Woodley. I bounced right back off his hard chest and Riley shot his arm out to stop me from falling back.
“What are you doing?” he asked us.
“Someone jumped the fence,” Riley explained while I tried to catch my breath.
“Hampton never came back for us.”
“Hampton?”
“Our bodyguard,” I explained. “It’s the name I call him to keep all you guys straight,” I said with the wave of my hand.
“How long have you been unaccompanied out there?”
We shrugged. “Forty-five minutes?”
“Forty-five minutes!!” Woodley bugged his eyes out.