Staring down at his grasp on my arm, I feel my opposite hand curling into a fist, but thankfully a photographer stops by before I can ruin my reputation. I’m not sure who he works for or if he’s sensed what’s going on, but his request for a picture diffuses the situation quickly. Trenton flashes a smile and lets go of my arm. Snaking it around my waist, I resist the urge to rake my nails down his face. I hold my breath as the photos are taken and quickly remove myself when the call to the stage is made.
The whole thing couldn’t have lasted more than three minutes, but if that’s the case, why does the sting of his grip still throb?
The concerned looks of my bandmates remind me that I’m in public, so I immediately straighten up and turn my attention back out onto the stage. It’s the last award of the night, the covetedVocalist of the Year.With no time to go back to my seat or change back into my red gown, I wait in the wings with my band as a camera operator approaches to make sure they get my reaction, win or lose.
As Trenton and a producer read off the names of the nominees, I suddenly realize that I’m terrified. For previous awards, I’ve had songwriters, musicians, and other friends on stage with me. For this award, it will just be me. Me, Trenton, and a stranger.
There’s not enough time to figure out if I want it or not because when the envelope is torn, my name is read. Around me, my bandmates are screaming, bouncing up and down, and even attempting to tackle me while another producer is hustling me toward the stage. Surely the broadcast has gone over on time, and they’ll want a quick speech.
Putting one foot in front of the other, I strut back on stage toward Trenton, who holds my trophy outstretched toward me. Refusing to be deterred, I pick up my pace and meet the two men at the mic. Trenton pulls me into an awkward hug. I can feel the life draining out of the room as they look up at us. I try to pull away, but he hangs on a second longer. Finally, I lower my shoulder and nudge him off of me as I turn to the mic. His grasp on my award continues even as I try to tug it from his grasp.
Stepping forward. I feel an unwanted hand wrapping around my waist. Trenton pulls me back against him and leans into the mic. Blowing hair from my shoulder out of his way, he smiles at the crowd and says, “I’m just so happy for my littleprotégé here!” He chuckles, and a few people out in the crowd laugh nervously. It’s clear the crowd doesn’t understand what’s going on, so I frantically search for Dalton. He and Raleigh are gripping their seats, leaning forward, ready to come to my aid.
Wanting Trenton off and away from me, I push against him again. He just holds me tighter. “Let’s hear it for your 2023Vocalist of the Year,folks!” he calls out. By this point, people are staring and uneasiness has washed over the venue.
Feeling his hand sink lower, I throw an elbow back into him. “Get off of me!” I say, growling as quietly as I can. Unfortunately, the mic picks it up and sends it flying through the arena in a horrifying echo anyway. The sudden jerk of my arm causes his grip on my crystalline trophy to tumble from his grasp to the floor. It shatters in the most ear-splitting crash.
My hand flies to my mouth as I try to compartmentalize what just happened. The producer is scrambling backstage, and Trenton is reaching for me yet again.
“No!” I shout at him, throwing a hand up to stop him. “Do not touch me again.” Hot tears have started, and I doubt I’ll be able to hide them anywhere near here. The arena is so quiet that I can hear the frantic calls of the production crew scrambling over their walkie-talkies backstage.
Humiliated and unable to look at Trenton, the crowd, or the shattered remains of my award, I turn on my heel and hurry across the stage, desperate for refuge from the moment. Before I can reach the curtain, I’m met with Dalton. He immediately throws an arm around me and barrels through the gawkers backstage.
No one says a word as we pass by; even the photographers are stunned. A few find their senses and snap some pictures, but others seem to have a semblance of decency and keep their caps on.
“We’re gonna get you out of here, kiddo,” he says, emotion clouding his strong voice.
“I’m okay,” I stutter out, though I don’t know if that’s the truth.
“Raleigh is going to meet us at the car,” Dalton says, speaking into his hidden mic at his wrist.
“Is she mad at me?” I ask, my heart pounding. Thinking I reacted wrong, I try to reverse time and handle the situation differently.
Dalton stiffens but keeps our pace through the labyrinth steady. “No one is mad at you. No one.”
I nod to myself as the reality of everything starts to sink in. Oh God, what will Wyatt think of this? The shaking starts as we reach the car, and Raleigh pulls me inside. My phone starts to go crazy as we pull away. Raleigh takes command, a phone in each hand.
Curling up on my side, I lay across the leather seat and let the tears flow freely. There’s nothing I hate more than feeling like a victim; I’m tough. I’ve been through hell. I know I can do anything, but this feels different. I was humiliated on national TV and then I ran. I didn’t fight back; I ran.
Stunned, simply stunned – that’s the only way to describe this horrid feeling. So horrid, in fact, that, in a panic, I roll down my window and spill my dinner into the street.
“Oh, honey,” Raleigh says, devastated. “I’m so sorry that this happened. I don’t know how they allowed this to happen, but we are going to take care of it.” Even in my state, I can hear the emotion starting to take control of her voice. Her care only causes me to retreat further. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I lay back down and clench my eyes shut tight, willing the world away.
Chapter 25
Wyatt
“COME ON, MAE,” I mutter. “Pick up.”
The phone in my hand continues to beep. I run my free hand through my hair as I’m sent to her cheery voicemail message. For the fourth time, she hasn’t answered.
“Honey,” my sister says coolly from behind me. “I’m sure she’s swamped with messages right now.”
We’d all been watching the broadcast when the whole thing went down. After such a high of watching her perform a song that brought her such joy, it was all brought down the moment I saw that smug-faced creep wrap her up in a hug. I was already a mess when he wouldn’t let go the first time. By the end of it, I was fuming and ready to punch a wall, wanting to punch him. When she froze and then ran into the arms of Dalton, my heart broke. It should have been me there.
Ever the calm mother, Hannah had the job of explaining the situation to the little ones. Carly and Benjamin were extremelyconfused as to why ‘a strange man was hugging Mae so tightly.’ Their innocent observation just made me more furious. Ben had to escort me to the outside deck, where I’ve been trying to contact her ever since.
Now, my sister has replaced Ben watching over me. Leaning against the railing, she crosses her arms and shakes her head. “I still can’t believe that just happened.”
