Page 48 of Anthem of Love and Loathing

“What if I don’t go? What if I go to the bathroom and you don’t see me sneak out?”

“Except that we both know I would,” Jasper says.

I huff out a breath. “What if we go to the bus until the end of the concert and then you can bring me back to the green room?”

He chews the idea over. “Sorry, Kelsey. The record label is my boss. That means I listen to them or L.A. Riot depending on the situation.”

“I don’t factor.” Because I’m neither. “I’m a prisoner to Riot’s whim, aren’t I?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he says. “Give it time. He’ll start to trust you again.”

“That’s rich.” If anyone shouldn’t trust the other it’s me who shouldn’t trust him. But whatever. I slip into the green room where there’s a couple of tables set up against the wall with refreshments for while the band meets and greets its fans.

I press my hand to my belly as I check it all out while Jasper practically melts into the wall. Snagging a bottle of water, I twist off the lid and take small sips to settle the nausea of memories I wish I could forget.

The last time I was in a room like this I was the band’s manager. Riot and I were seeing each other behind everyone’s backs. And I was about to find out I was pregnant. It was also the first time Sonatina threw herself at him.

I blink back the familiar overflow of pain. The future and family I wanted had been within my grasp. Everything I had ever wished for was right in front of me. Until it was ripped cruelly from my reach. He got to keep all his dreams while mine were destroyed. I gasp for air. The hurt over everything that has happened making it hard to breath. I can’t be in here. I need air. Dropping the open bottle of water, I bolt towards the door.

Jasper grabs my elbow when I attempt to walk straight past him. “Sorry, Kelsey. I can’t let you out of my sight.”

“You do what you need to, but I’m not staying here. Riot can’t make me. And neither can you.” If he still has any regard for me, he won’t get in my way. He’ll probably just follow.

He reluctantly releases my arm. “Fine.”

The concert is over and people are leaving. The walkway is full as I head for the exit that will take me to the buses. Fans head out to find their cars or transport home.

I duck away when someone stares at me too long, brows pinched over the bridge of their nose.

Going to the bus with so many people around who may recognize me is too problematic. I’m not worried they’ll attack me like the idiot at the bus stop the other night did.

But the last thing I need is to be spotted. And it looks like that’s exactly what is happening when someone raises a camera and directs it at me.

My pulse sprints. I tuck my chin down and let my hair fall in my face. It’s not a me thing to do, but I can’t get caught on social media. The longer my whereabouts are unknown, the better. I hunt for the next way off the walkway and back into the stadium.

“Hey,” someone calls out.

Great. I mentally roll my eyes while I try to appear calm and relaxed. Once one of them notices it won’t be long for more to realize I’m familiar for a reason.

“Is that her? The ex?” one woman asks another she’s walking with when I pass them.

“Couldn’t be. Could it?” the other’s voice follows me. “What would she be doing at one of his concerts?”

“I really think it is.”

I glance over my shoulder to see they’re trying to keep pace with me.

“It is,” the first woman says.

“You shouldn’t be here, bitch,” the second one raises her voice.

More people focus our way. Jasper has fallen too far behind and is trying to weave his way through a large group.

That’s fine though. I am used to protecting myself. An entrance from the walkway into the interior of the arena appears up ahead. I break into a run.

“Yeah. You’re a bitch,” a shrill female voice follows me from the walkway back into the main part of the arena. “No wonder he fell for Sonatina over you. Those two were perfection,” her taunt stays with me into the passageway between the snack shops and the seating.

Holy shit. Is that what they think?