We ended up deciding to skip the hotel and stay on the bus tonight, because we’re leaving probably before the sun rises in the morning. It’s easier if everyone is on the bus before it goes, rather than trying to rally everyone together in time. We’ve all been sitting outside of it, on a few stray chairs, enjoying a couple of drinks and chatting about how successful the tour has been, aside from a few mishaps on my behalf.

When everyone heads off to bed, I sit outside alone, legs tucked up beneath me, texting Maverick. I miss him already, a deep ache that runs into my chest and makes me wish he was sitting right next to me. Missing someone can suck, so hard. Especially when you know how incredible it feels to have them right beside you, you know how amazing it is, you know how much it makes everything feel better.

S – I miss you, big guy.

I send the text and smile stupidly at my phone as I watch the three little dots appear at the bottom of the screen. A message comes through a moment later.

M – Miss you too, babe.

My smile turns into a stupid grin. I love this feeling. The one when you’re first falling in love, and everything makes you smile. They could do absolutely anything, and it would bring happiness. It’s almost as if they could never do any wrong, because you’d never be able to look at them in a negative light, even if they did. Nothing about them annoys you. Nothing about them makes you want to strangle them. You accept everything. Because everything makes you feel good. Even the fights are good, because you know how incredible and affectionate they’ll be after them.

“Hello, Scar.”

I flinch at the sound of a voice I haven’t heard for such a long time. God. That voice. It brings chills to my spine, it travels right up the middle and lodges deep into the parts of me I keep hidden. It’s a voice that could bring me to my knees without even trying. My head whips up and I see Treyton striding toward me, gun in his hand. “Don’t move. Don’t scream. Or I’ll blow your head off.”

I freeze, my phone slipping from my fingers.

“W-w-w-w-what ...”

I don’t get to say anything else, because he hauls me out of the chair and shoves me around to the back of the bus where nobody can see us, slamming me against it, holding a big hand over my mouth. I try to squirm, but he brings the gun up, pressing it to my head. “Ah ah ah, you don’t want me to damage this pretty head now, do you, sweetheart?”

I cringe.

“You’re going to listen. I don’t have long. Security have just taken five because they think you’re safe here, in a crowd, with all your tour members on the bus. How fucking incredibly stupid. They should know you’re never safe. I know the ins and outs of this industry, I followed you around long enough to know how it works. Silly silly, Susan, I see she still doesn’t know how to do her job.”

I try to speak, but his hand is clasped firmly over my mouth.

“You’re going to help me. Now, I know you’re associated with the Iron Fury MC. Because of them, we’re unable to move drugs into Denver, just like we need. They have an eye on every entrance. They have sources everywhere. We have a big shipment, need to get it over state lines and back home. You’re the perfect opportunity for us to do that.”

I don’t understand.

Fear clutches my spine as I stare into the evil blue eyes of a man I once loved. To look at him, Treyton would take your very breath away. He’s also absolutely deadly.

“Now,” he says, smiling as he starts stroking the gun up and down my cheek. “Here’s how this is going to go. I’m going to load your bus up with drugs when you stop next, and you’re going to make sure it remains unlocked so I can do that. Outside of Susan, you’re the only one with access to it. All those storage compartments below it, I will have them filled. I know nobody uses that area much, so we can get away with it for a few days, you lose the key, you do whatever you have to to keep people out of there.”

What?

He’s got to be kidding me, right?

No.

No way I’ll do that. No way in hell. If we get searched, I’ll go to prison for the rest of my life. No.

I shake my head and he laughs. “I thought you’d say that. So, as always, I thought ahead. Are you missing anybody tonight?”

What is he talking about?

“A certain deaf, pretty, young girl?”

No.

Amalie.

I start squirming and trying to fight him off, but his fingers tighten around my mouth in warning, a warning I know he’ll follow through on. “Do not fight me. She’s here, waiting for you. But what you see ... that’s just a taste of what I’ll do to her if you do not obey me. Don’t cross me, Scarlett. I will gut her slowly and send you her insides. Do you understand me?”

I nod, tears streaming down my face.

Where is Amalie?

What has he done to her? Oh, God. I didn’t notice she wasn’t here. She likes to go off on her own, she’s fiercely independent and doesn’t like to let her hearing affect her life. She often goes and visits the libraries and cafes when we stop, loving the quiet she finds there. Why didn’t I insist on going with her?

God.

“Don’t think about warning those bikers, either. Amalie has family, and so do you, I will find and kill whoever I have to, to make a point, if you try and get their help in this matter. All you have to do is make sure that bus is unlocked tomorrow night when you stop for your show. Keep everyone out of the storage compartment. It’s simple. Then I won’t bother you again.”

I don’t believe him.

But I also know I have no choice.

Trey is vile, and brutal, and he will do exactly what he’s threatening. He will kill anyone he can get his hands on to make a point. I know he will.

I nod.

Bile burns in my stomach, but I have no other choice.

“Good girl. I’ll be in touch. Say nothing. Oh, and Scarlett? Your friend is going to need medical treatment.”

With that, he lets me go and disappears into the darkness.

My knees tremble and I move quickly, quicker than I’ve ever moved in my life. I start running towards the direction he came in. “Amalie?” I call.

She can’t hear me.

Oh, God. She probably doesn’t know I’m looking for her.

“Amalie?” I cry again, running around.

It’s dark where we’re parked, so I can’t see much. I hear a faint moan and spin around, charging in the direction of the sound. Amalie is lying under a street light just outside of the park we’re staying at with our bus. I drop to my knees, tearing all the skin off, and start crying the moment I see her. She’s bloodied, bashed, her hair full of blood. Oh, God. No. What have they done to her?

“Amalie?” I cry. “I’m so sorry. Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I’m going to get help.”

“Help!” I scream out loudly, knowing my phone is back at the bus. “Somebody help!”

Security comes from a caravan around the corner, barreling out and rushing toward me quickly. They skid to a stop when they see Amalie on the ground, bleeding.

“Oh, God!”

Susan. I don’t know where she came from, but she too is running toward us.

“What happened?” she cries.

“I don’t know, I just heard a cry and found her like this, someone call an ambulance!”

Some of my band members have come out of the bus, all of them are talking, asking what’s wrong, asking what happened, but all I can do is hold my friend in my arms, getting covered in her blood, and cry. Cry because I’m a liar. Cry because this is my fault. Cry because dammit, someone hurt the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world.

“It’s going to be okay,” I whisper to my friend. “I promise you, it’s going to be okay.”

She makes a pained sound, one that rips my heart out of my chest.

I’m a terrible human being.

What the hell am I going to do now?