He isn’t here.

I’ve been singing for an hour, and he isn’t here. I can see Mal and Koda, but they’re stony faced. They don’t smile, they just stand on the sidelines, watching the crowd, watching all the people, watching me. Something has happened, I can feel it deep in my bones. They’re not acting the way they were this morning, and maybe that’s because they’re on duty watching me, but I know, I just know, it’s more than that.

Maverick isn’t here.

And there’s a reason for that.

Disappointment clenches my chest, and it makes it hard to sing, but I do. I sing and I dance, not willing to let my fans down again, but deep inside my chest, there is a hard knot that I can’t seem to ease. When the show is finished, I rush off stage and try to get down to where Mal and Koda are, but I’m stopped by security. “Sorry, you can’t go back there, Miss Belle. Not until the stadium is cleared out.”

“I really need to see someone back there, you can come with me, please?” I beg, trying to step past them.

“Sorry, we can’t allow that. That’s our orders.”

Frustrated, I spin around and rush down to my dressing rooms. I need to get changed and get out of here. I need to find Maverick. Something is wrong, and with every passing second, my chest feels like it’s going to explode. I reach my dressing room, and Susan is in there. “Great show,” she says, smiling and pushing her microphone attached to the ear piece she’s wearing away.

“Do you mind if I have a minute?” I ask her. “I’m not feeling well at all.”

She looks at me, eyes narrowing. “Did you see something again?”

“No, I’m just really very nauseous. I feel so sick.”

Lie.

Big fucking lie.

But it’ll get me home quicker.

“Oh, my, well get changed and we’ll get you home.”

“Thank you.” I smile weakly.

She leaves the room and I run over to my purse, pulling out my phone. I can still hear the crowd roaring and cheering and begging for an encore. They won’t be getting one, not tonight. Another band will play for half an hour, and then everything will close down for the evening. I find Maverick’s number, and with shaky fingers, I dial. It goes straight to voicemail. Dammit!

My door opens and Amalie rushes in, dressed in a gorgeous black dress. Tonight was her first show, and she absolutely killed it. I didn’t even take a moment to congratulate her on doing such an incredible job. I’m a terrible person, but right now I just can’t think. I can’t even breathe.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, rushing over and putting her hands on my shoulders.

“Something is wrong. Maverick isn’t here, and did you see Mal and Koda?”

She nods. “They didn’t look very happy at all.”

“I don’t know what it is, but something is so wrong. I can feel it.”

“We’ll find him, okay? Let’s just focus on getting out of here as quickly as we can,” she offers, hugging me.

I hug her tight and then pull back. “I told Susan I was unwell, so I’m hoping she’ll move me out quickly.”

We take a seat on the sofa in my changing room, and Amalie gets me some water. It’s then that I glance up at the television on the wall that’s on mute. What I see has me leaping up and turning the volume right up. Amalie stops what she’s doing and watches too, both of us, mouths agape.

“Two bikers went on a rampage in the main street of Seattle today. Onlookers claim that the unnamed man just jumped the other man, and a violent fight broke out. It is believed both members are from the same club, which is located in Denver. The fight was said to be over before police could arrive, and both men had disappeared. Anyone with any information is asked to come forward.”

I watch the screen, and even though they’ve blurred out the faces, I know that the man driving punch after punch after punch into the other man’s face is Maverick. I would be able to spot him anywhere. I can’t see the man beneath him, but it isn’t Koda or Mal. The camera bounces around, and the footage is clearly taken from a phone. I see Koda yelling something in the background, and Mal pulling Maverick up by his jacket, then the picture is gone and the news lady returns.

“It is believed two other bikers were on the scene and broke up the fight. If you know anything, please call your local police.”

The story changes and I look to Amalie. “What the hell did I just see?”

She shakes her head, eyes wide. “I don’t know, but I think we need to get out of here and find out.”

I stand and walk to my door, poking my head out. Susan is standing in the hall. “Susan,” I groan. “I really need to go, please, I think I’m going to vomit.”

Her eyes get wide, and she ushers me forward. Amalie follows close behind. “Of course, let’s get you home.”

She leads me out the back and into the car waiting for me. I pretend to groan and double over the whole way, but not too much so that she’ll want to take me to the ER. It takes fifteen minutes to get back to the hotel, and when we arrive, I rush out, followed closely by security, and I head back to my room with Amalie close behind.

“Amalie, Scarlett might need her rest,” Susan says, following us.

“It’s okay,” I groan. “I’d prefer she stays for a little bit, just in case.”

Susan nods. “Okay, do you need me to take you to the ER? Was it something you ate? Or a stomach bug?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have a shower and a nap and get Amalie to let you know if anything doesn’t improve.”

Amalie puts her arm around my shoulder and nods. “I’ll take care of her.”

Susan nods. “Okay, let me know if you need anything.”

I nod with a groan and walk into my room with Amalie. The second the door is closed, I spin to her. “Maverick isn’t answering his phone, I think we should go and try to find him. I know where he’s staying, but I think we should check the bar first and see if he’s there, if not we’ll go to their motel. We might be able to get some answers.”

Amalie nods. “Let’s get changed and then I’ll sneak you out.”

I rush off and get changed into some jeans and a tank and a hoodie. I pull the hood up and over my head. I can’t wear sunglasses at night, but I’ll just have to keep my head down and pray that nobody sees me. I’m going to look less obvious in a hoodie, nobody will look twice at me. I hope.

“Let’s go,” I whisper when Amalie comes out in jeans and a turtle-neck sweater that she borrowed from my closet.

“I’ll go first, and wave you on.”

I nod.

It takes us fifteen minutes to get out of the hotel because there are so many people around, but we use that to our advantage when we sneak out the front doors next to a big group of teenagers. When we’re on the street, we hold hands and both go running toward the bar. It only takes a few minutes to reach it, but it’s packed. There are people out the front, inside, and even around the side of the massive brick building.

Dammit.

This might take a while.

I do a quick browse of the people outside, but I can’t see anything. “We’re going to have to go in,” I say to Amalie, looking at her.

She nods. “I can’t hear well in these places, it gets worse,” she tells me.

“I’ll hold your hand, okay?”

She nods and with my head down, we walk into the bar. It’s equally as packed inside as it is on the outside. We shuffle through the people, glancing around. It’s so hard to see, there are bodies everywhere, so holding tightly to each other’s hands, we push through the crowd, little by little, looking everywhere we can. It doesn’t seem like he’s in here, which makes my heart sink.

What if he’s gone? What if I never get the chance to see him again?

I pull Amalie and we do another sweep before walking back outside and checking everywhere there, too. Nothing. No sign of any of them. Frustrated, we step back out onto the sidewalk. I glance around again, and then pull Amalie toward the motel which is about six blocks up. I looked it up earlier. I notice as we’re walking Isaac and a heap of people from the band down the street.

Shit.

I don’t need them to see me and ask questions right now.

I tug Amalie’s hand and pull her down the left-hand side of the building the bar is in and wait for them to pass. It’s fairly dark down here, only dimly-lit for a parking lot that’s out the back, probably for bar staff. There are a few big trees, but otherwise it’s practically dead. I don’t pay much attention, I just watch as Isaac walks past with the group, and I wait a few minutes and then tug Amalie’s hand.

Only she doesn’t move.

I tug again.

Still nothing.

I turn and glance at her, to see she’s looking at something, her mouth open, her eyes wide. I follow her gaze, and my heart stops. It just stops. My entire body feels like it’s on fire as I take in the scene before me. My neck prickles. My heart feels like it comes to a stop, and my hands start shaking as a jealousy and pain unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my short life, travels up my spine and fills my body.

Maverick is with a woman, against the wall of a small building just outside of the parking lot, maybe an old toilet? She’s facing the building panties down around her ankles, hands on the wall, and he’s behind her, hands on her hips, fucking her so hard she’s not even making any noise, her mouth is open, her head is back, but she’s not screaming, probably just gasping.

I can’t look away, even though the feeling inside me is almost crippling. My bottom lip trembles as I watch him, jaw tight, eyes closed, fury radiating off him. His hands are banged up, his jeans are down around his ankles and he’s fucking her like a wild animal.

I think I’m going to be sick.

Tears burst forth and roll down my cheeks, and in that moment, rational thought leaves me and a feeling of betrayal floods me. I know that is unfair, considering we barely know each other, but something about seeing him like that, with someone else, makes me want to rip my own heart out with my bare hands and stomp it onto the ground just so it won’t hurt for a second longer.

Not one, single, agonizing second.

As if he can sense us, Maverick turns, and his eyes lock onto mine. All the fury is washed out of his face and it goes slack. He stops what he’s doing and stumbles backward, pulling himself out of the blond girl he had against the wall. My mouth opens and closes, and the tears keep rolling. Amalie moves first, tugging my hand, pulling me backward even though my feet don’t want to move.

Maverick yells out an angry, “Fuck!”

And then he bellows my name.

I finally get my senses together.

And I turn.

And I run.

~*~*~*~