I sat in the makeup chair and walked through every step of the routine in my head. “Hey, Los Angeles, how are you tonight?!” I mouthed the words, practicing my opening until I’d worn it deep into my brain. I had done this set a thousand times, the songs as familiar to me as my own face. There would be no mistakes.

Dressed in my favorite purple bustier and black leather pants, I sat in the makeup chair. The outfit was like a uniform, my suit of armor. It protected me from the world. Julie had wanted me to wear something different, try a new style, but I found getting back into the same clothes was comforting. Right now I needed that comfort. I wasn’t ready for any more change.

“Hmmm… Let’s add a little more color here.” My make-up artist Jennifer cocked her head and appraised me carefully. She padded more foundation onto my forehead and temples and set it with a layer of powder. Her fingers ran down the long selection of lipsticks before she chose a stain of deep red and masterfully painted it on my lips. Hands on her hips, she walked around me, scrutinized her work for a moment, and finally pronounced me done. “What do you think?” She asked spinning me around to look in the mirror.

“I think you’ve done it again, Jennifer!” I smiled back at her reflection as she fussed about and decided to add one more spritz of hairspray to set my curls. She always styled gorgeous and functional hair-dos that were designed to hold up through three-hour performances under the hot lights.

“Are you ready?” Julie waltzed in with a pencil perched behind one ear. Her hair was up in a messy bun with a second pencil anchoring it at the back of her head. She clutched a thick clipboard to her chest. “This is ridiculous, Maggie. You should be done by now.” Looking at Jennifer, she scowled. “Why isn’t she done? You’re holding everyone up.”

“We’re about finished, Jules. Relax. Jen is just finishing my hair.” I flicked my eyes up to watch Julie’s reflection as she paced anxiously behind me. Her lips moved like she was talking to herself.

“Why aren’t you ready?” she asked again. “You should be ready!” Julie seemed really riled up that evening. She was always concerned with maintaining a strict schedule. If any of us were late, it could push her over the edge into a screaming fit. Normally the star was the prima donna, but in our case, it was my manager. That night, she seemed even more demanding than usual.

“Calm down, Julie. We’re right on time.” I spun around in my chair, smiling my thanks at Jen before turning my attention to Julie. Her moods were capricious, but she was brilliant at keeping the tour running smoothly, so I tolerated them. “You ready?” I stood to accompany her out to the stage.

“Can you give us a minute, Jennifer?” Julie snapped her gum and aimed a pointed look at Jen while motioning for me to sit.

“Okay, okay. I’m going.” Jennifer rolled her eyes, turned up her nose at Julie, and stalked out. They had never gotten along, and I had no idea why.

“What’s up, Julie?” I settled back in the chair, waiting to hear what giant transgression I had committed this time. It was usually best to let Julie get it off her chest so we could move on.

“You are such a bitch,” she snarled, whirling around to face me.

“What?!” Stunned, all I could do was stare at her. That level of abuse was unusual even for her. Normally, she just complained about whatever I or the crew had done. I’d listen, and her storm would blow over. Not this time.

She stalked closer, putting her face just inches from mine. “You are such a bitch! I can’t believe you!” She was shrieking. Her whole face turned red, and the tendons in her neck stood out.

“Julie?” I started to push up from my chair.

“No.” She shoved a hand in the center of my chest, pushing me back in the seat. “No, we’re doing this my way.”

“Julie, I really do need to go do a sound check.” I tried to stand again, but she screeched, hauled back, and slapped me. My hand flew to my stinging jaw, and my eyes went wide. “Julie!”

Rubbing the point of impact, I narrowed my eyes on her. The hit smarted. Jennifer was going to have more work to do on my face. Maybe those were foolish thoughts, but I’d never seen this side of Julie in all the time we’d been together. I wasn’t sure what to think. A moment ago, I’d thought she was my friend.

“No! No!” She put her hands on either side of her head, weaving her fingers in and pulling at her hair. Then she pounded her palm into her forehead. “Stupid, stupid, stupid! I can’t believe I was so stupid!” She paced around the room, suddenly spun toward me again with one hand on her hip, and jabbed a finger in my face. “It’s all your fault.”

I blinked and shook my head. “What?”

She stomped closer. Her eyes were wild with fury and her hair stood up in crazy spikes. Insane panting made her chest heave with her exertion. “You ruined everything!” This time she hauled back and punched me, sending my chair over backwards. I fell with my arms flailing. My shoulder pulled at the barely-healed bullet wound.

“Julie!” I screamed before my head hit the leg of the make-up table and everything went dark.

“Ouch!” Slamming into a hard carpet-covered wall, I woke in a cramped and shadowy space lit only by a soft red glow. My head throbbed, and my left eye was swollen almost shut. What the hell? What happened?

I craned my neck, trying to figure out where I was. With my shoulder throbbing, I wiggled around to view the whole space. Wrapped in a heavy blanket, I found it difficult to move. My arms were tied behind my back, and my feet were bound together. A rag was stuffed in my mouth and tied in place. My shoulder was screaming from the strain of my position, and my mouth felt like cotton. A nasty metallic taste coated my tongue.

Bump.

Bump.

Bump.

Something hard jammed into my side every time the space bounced up and down. I looked at the red glow again and realized it came from car brake lights. Shit! I’m locked in a trunk!

I writhed around some more, trying to dislodge the fabric tangled around my legs. The trunk was hot and stuffy, and I was struggling to breathe.

Memories of the afternoon slowly came back to me. Julie and I were in my dressing room. She went a little nuts, and then she hit me.

Oh my God! She hit me! What the hell set her off?

My mind ran back through the events of the last few days, but nothing jumped out at me as significant. Everything seemed normal. Liam’s security team had rotated through, no more threatening letters had arrived, and we’d all breathed a sigh of relief. Even I began to relax as days passed by without incident, confirming that Liam and his team had neutralized the threat.

Pulling against my bonds, I felt a little give in whatever they were tied with. I rolled on my side, pulled my knees up, and worked at the ropes around my wrists, doing my best to ignore the burn it caused. I slammed my bound feet against the closest brake light, trying to knock off the cover and bash out the light itself.

Bang!

“Oof!” My feet bounced off the brake light and the recoil threw me back into the trunk wall again. I hit so hard the force loosened the bindings on my wrists just a little bit more. I lay on my back and stared up at the metal ceiling, cursing it all in my head. Dammit! This is supposed to be over! Tilting my head to the side, I stared at the red glow.

My shoulder was killing me. Wrenched backward, my arms were stuck at a torturous angle, and no matter how I squirmed, I couldn’t relieve the pressure. Every effort to free myself pulled at my scar tissue and made the pain hotter, sharper.

The car slowed, and I could feel the chassis sway as we turned off onto a rougher road. The bumping jolts banged my teeth together with every lurch. Hours seemed to pass before we finally came to a stop. When we did, I started kicking against the brake light again.

Panic rose in my throat and my breath came in short, laborious gasps. I prayed someone on the street would hear me. I knew Julie could hear the racket I made because she cranked up the stereo until the entire vehicle rattled with the bass.

I rocked back on my bad shoulder as the car took off again. The tires squealed, and the back end drifted as we weaved down the road in an endless fishtail. My stomach churned. I’m going to be sick.

The gag choked me and I began to hyperventilate. My mouth flooded with saliva, and acidic bile flooded up the back of my throat. Get it off! Get it off! I thrashed, scrubbing my face against my shoulder and the carpet in a desperate attempt to remove the cloth before I choked to death on my own vomit.

Ignoring the pain, I rolled in search of anything I could hook the gag on. Finally, my good shoulder bumped the hard object that had been digging into my side. I turned until the cloth caught on whatever the object was. Bracing my feet against the side of the trunk, I pulled the gag down my face until it hung loosely around my neck.

“Oh thank God.” I collapsed on my back, breathed in massive gasps. As my rolling prison bumped down the road, I lay there with my eyes closed, gulping air and coughing. Tears streamed down my cheeks.