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“You said you locked the door!” Bryan’s hissed words were so low she barely heard them. “Get off me.”
Her stomach flipped over. Who was he talking to?
Cassie shoved the door open. It took her mind a moment too long to process what she was seeing. Bryan, naked on the couch, trying to push an equally naked woman off him. The agony that ripped through her chest at the sight almost doubled her over.
“No.” Cassie’s lips made the shape of the word, but no sound came out, her lungs too compressed to function properly. She jerked her eyes away from her panicked fiancé to the woman sitting on top of him. It was Stella, Blacklite’s sultry, red-haired lead singer who had all the men eating out of her hand whenever she performed. The woman Bryan claimed had become almost like a sister to him over the two years they’d played together. The woman who had never really seemed to warm to Cassie, no matter how friendly she’d tried to be. Stella’s expression was almost apathetic, except for a flicker of what might be satisfaction in her gaze. She didn’t seem at all interested in climbing off Bryan, even as he continued to push at her hips to get her to move.
Spots swam in Cassie’s vision, and she clung to the handle of the door to steady herself. When she could finally breathe again, she ripped her gaze away from Stella and looked back at Bryan.
“Cassie,” he pleaded. He gave up on trying to get Stella to climb off him. Or maybe he’d concluded that getting her to move would only put the evidence of his betrayal on full display. Instead, he held his hand out to Cassie. As if he wanted her to come to him. Did he actually think she would? While Stella was… while she was…
Acid burned up Cassie’s throat. She clapped a hand over her mouth, even as a hot rush of tears flooded her eyes, thankfully blurring the sight of the man she loved with his dick inside another woman.
Cassie took a step back. Then another. She had to get away. As far away as she could. From him. From Stella. But where? Where could she go? To their bus? The bunk she shared with him? She couldn’t. She couldn’t ever step foot in there again.
With scalding tears blinding her, she whirled and bolted across the main room and out the door.
ChapterThree
Zac had just turned the corner into the hallway that led to Fractured’s dressing room when someone ran into him so hard, it knocked him back a step. The other person rebounded off his chest and landed on their ass with a cry of pain that sounded more emotional than physical.
“What the hell?” he said, recognizing the slender form and dark waves of hair. It was Cassie on the ground in front of him. She had her head lowered so he couldn’t see her face, but she was breathing hard. A second later, she scrambled to her feet, still not looking up.
“I’m so sorry.” Her voice wobbled as she spoke. Fuck. Was she crying?
She edged around him, but he reached out and grasped her arm as she tried to get past. “Are you okay?”
Cassie nodded jerkily, gaze still cast down. “I have to go.”
She tried to tug her arm away, but the tears he could now see glazing her cheeks made him keep hold of her. His neck and shoulders knotted tight. Had someone done something to her?Hurther? There were as many assholes on tour as anywhere else, so unfortunately, it wasn’t out of the question. He breathed through his anger at the thought, not wanting to react before he knew what had happened.
“I can see that, angel. But I need to know if someone’s hurt you.”
She gasped and shuddered, her reaction making Zac’s spine snap straight. But before he could demand to know who the hell had put his hands on her, she shook her head in denial.
“Cassie, look at me.”
She reluctantly raised her head, and he stared down at her, searching her face for the truth. Her lashes were wet and spiky, her eyes dark-blue pools of anguish. His stomach twisted.
“Cassie!” The yell came from down the hall. Bryan jogged toward them, bare-chested, no shoes, and struggling to button up his jeans. His guilt-ridden expression told Zac exactly what must have happened.
Zac’s jaw tightened. Without letting go of Cassie’s arm, he tugged her behind him and stepped forward. His hand slid down to bracket her wrist.
“What the fuck did you do?” Zac demanded as Bryan came to a stop in front of them.
“I need to talk to Cassie.”
Cassie pressed herself closer to Zac’s back.
“I doubt she wants to talk to you right now,” he said.
“All due respect, man, but this has nothing to do with you.”
“Considering you’ve got fucking lipstick marks on your chest, and yourfiancéeisn’t wearing makeup, respect isn’t exactly a word you should be throwing around.”
Movement down the hall caught Zac’s attention. Stella was leaning against the dressing room door, a faint smile on her face as she watched the three of them. Disgust filled him. Had Bryan been screwing his bandmate? While his fiancée was on tour with him?
Cassie tugged at his grip on her wrist. When he didn’t release her, she whispered, “Please let me go, Zac.”
