Page 42 of Anthem of Love and Loathing

I shiver. The last thing I want to deal with is another dead body. Even Riot’s.

When the girl leaves the bathroom, I grab a change of clothes and get ready myself. Rest day in San Fran won’t be restful. I choose jeans and layer two tanks under my favorite black hoody. It has these puffy black bows and glittery purple skulls on it. When I found it, I bought two. One for me and an identical but much smaller version to add to the trove of tiny human clothing I was collecting for her.

I push the memory away. I can’t afford to let my anger drown in my sadness. I wish I could lay down, curl up, and never get up again. But I didn’t lay down and die when my dad went to prison and my mom abandoned me. I didn’t give up when Marco would crawl into my bed three nights a week. And I refused to fall apart when Riot cheated on me.

“You’re a survivor, Kelsey Peterson,” I pep talk myself. “You don’t need anyone to have your back.”

The one man I trusted to have my back proved that.

I lean over and gather my hair into a perfectly messy bun. Slick my pout with a sheer gloss. And apply several coats of mascara until I’m satisfied that I appear put together enough to make it through the day.

A day that will be packed full of promo. As soon as we arrive at our destination the guys will have a full itinerary to follow before we’re allowed to hide out at whatever hotel they’re booked into.

I join the three guys and the girl everyone is calling Morgan in the front lounge. Golden is whipping up his famous caramel French toast, and everyone has a glass of green protein shake.

Riot hasn’t emerged yet. She must have really worn him out.

Kodiak grins at me and taps the spot beside him, letting me know there’s no hard feelings between us. I smile back gratefully. I need his friendship if I’m going to survive. It’s hard enough being the only girl on a tour bus full of dudes, but it’d be practically impossible if they were all not talking to me.

“What do you have scheduled?” I plop down next to him, my shoulder bumping against his.

“Tons,” he says. “A couple of radio appearances. A meet and greet with some competition winners.”

Golden plates up the French Toast and hands them out.

Shouldn’t Riot be up by now?

“Fifteen minutes to the hotel,” Jasper announces. “Cars are waiting.”

“One of them will take you to the airport,” Bronx tells Morgan.

Shouldn’t Riot be the one organizing her trip home?

“Thank you.” She kisses his cheek. “You’re a gentleman.”

He blushes until his face is the same color as his beard as he digs into his breakfast. It’s cute how he still gets embarrassed by compliments no matter how many girls and guys throw them his way.

“You’ll come with us,” Kodiak tells me.

“What about your manager? Who is that these days? Do they accompany you?”

The guys exchange cagey glances.

“They don’t travel with us.” Golden sits down at the table to eat.

It’s probably a good thing. Then they’d have to explain my presence, which could get uncomfortable. I’d like to put more than three hundred and eighty miles between me and Marco before I get kicked off the bus.

Still, even this small distance means I can relax my guard a bit. And being around the guys without Riot being in my face feels like coming home to family.

Breakfast is quick, full of chatter, dirty humor, and familiarity. By the time we get to the hotel, all the dishes have been stacked in the sink for the cleaner to deal with and everyone is ready to leave the bus.

Except Riot.

I frown at the closed door at the other end of bunk alley. “Shouldn’t you wake him up?”

“He left the bus last night,” Bronx frowns at me as he puts his hand to the small of Morgan’s back and they leave the bus.

“Did I wake up in the twilight zone?” I did almost suck Bronx’s cock last night, right? Riot went to bed with Morgan, didn’t he?