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She’d been waitingover two hours to take the stage. By the time Stanley finally gave her a five-minute warning, she was so twisted up in a panic about the time, she wasn’t sure she could go on.
But then she stepped on that stage and felt the heat of the lights, the wave of energy from the crowd, and all the worry and panic floated away. Stepping up to the microphone, she adjusted the strap of her guitar.
Instead of announcing the song she was about to sing, she simply launched into it. A simple ballad that picked up the pace in the second verse. At first, the audience seemed to be taking in her voice, but by the end of her first song, they were jumping up and down with the beat. By the fourth song, they were swaying with the music, and by the time she finished her set, half an hour later, they were screaming for more.
A cloud of disbelief and euphoria surrounded her as she made her way off the stage.
“Great set.” Stanley nodded at her as he passed her. “I have your number, right? We’ll be in touch.”
Her heart, already skipping all over the place, surged into a gallop at his comment.
“That would be great.” She managed, barely, to contain her excitement, but once he walked past her and onto the stage to announce the next performer, she squealed to herself and jumped up and down, pumping one fist in the air. She probably looked ridiculous, but she didn’t care.
“Are you done?” Bastian’s deep voice cut through the haze of joy. She froze, hand still poised in the air.
“Bastian,” she whispered his name as though she just summoned the devil. Slowly she lowered her fist and straightened up. “What are you doing here?”
He huffed a laugh and cocked an eyebrow. “Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing.” He stepped forward from behind the curtain pull. “What the fuckareyou doing here, Ariella?”
“I think it’s obvious.” She gestured to her guitar.
He gave a slow shake of his head. “You were supposed to be at the Faulkins’ party over an hour ago.”
“I’m late, I know. But we can go home really quick so I can change–“
“No, Ariella. It’s too late for that.” He grabbed onto the neck of her guitar and pulled the strap over her head, taking the guitar from her. “Let’s get your case and get you home.”
“Why is it too late? We can still make it.” She pushed, cursing herself for not bringing the damn dress to the club so she could change after her set.
“No, we can’t.” He placed his open hand on the small of her back and led her to the back room.
“Why not?” She turned the dial on her assigned locker. It was worse when he didn’t tell her things. It made her stomach twist, and she was sure he did it on purpose.
Bastian reached into the locker and pulled out her guitar case. Carefully, he tucked away the instrument.
“Did you have a coat?” He asked, his gaze wandering over her outfit. “Your father doesn’t need to see you dressed like that?”
“Like what?” She looked down at the rip in her jeans on the thigh, where the pocket showed through the hole. The cropped, form-fitting black tank top exposed her belly button and the small gold temporary ring she’d put on for the show. “I’m an adult, Bastian.”
He shook his head again. “An adult would have been home when she was supposed to be home tonight. She would have kept her word, and she wouldn’t be here instead of where she told her father she would be.”
He had a few points there, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.
“Look. Let’s just hurry. I’ll apologize. Dad will be mad, but at least I’ll get there.” She hurried behind him, out to the hallway leading them to the parking lot.
Bastian kept silent as he put her guitar in the trunk of his car. He said nothing when he opened the passenger side door for her and was even quieter as he drove them toward home. Each second passing twisted her stomach into a tighter knot.
“What aren’t you telling me?” They entered the gates of her father’s estate.
“Your father had to leave the party when you didn’t show up. He made an excuse that you’d fallen ill and wanted to get home to see you right away.” Bastian answered as he pulled the car to a stop in front of the steps of the house.
She felt sick.
“Oh no,” she whispered. That meant her father was home. And waiting for her.
She dug her phone out of her purse and powered it up. Other than several texts from Bastian demanding answers was a single message from Finn.
