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“C’mere, Birdy,” Sebastian calls, and although he’s still talking into the microphone so everybody can hear him, his voice is lower, huskier.
At this moment, he isn’t the superstar Bash Black, the resident bad boy rockstar.
He’s Sebastian.
My Sebastian.
“That’s our cue,” the guy snickers behind me.
No.
I dig in my heels, trying to resist my captor, but it’s useless. He grabs my hair with one hand, tugging my head back, and making my scalp burn in protest.
“Move,” he hisses in my ear, shoving me forward. “It’s time for you to fly, little bird.”
CHAPTERFORTY-FOUR
SEBASTIAN
I stand under the bright lights, my breathing still heavy from working the stage as I turn toward the dark corner where I know Penelope is standing. I felt her eyes on me during the whole performance, and while I knew she couldn’t actuallyseeme, it didn’t make any difference. She was there, listening.
My question still rings in my head. The crowd cheers as they urge her to join me on the stage spreading throughout the stadium as I hold my breath and wait.
Was this a mistake?
Did I ask too much of her too soon?
Am I too selfish for wanting her to put herself out there like this when she’s been getting so much shit from everybody around us? All because people thought she wasn’t worthy when, in reality, it was me. I am the unworthy one, not her.
I considered myself one lucky bastard that she wanted to be with me, and I planned to do everything in my power to keep her right where she was.
Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I’m debating if I should go back to see if she’s okay, but before I can make a move, she emerges from the shadows.
The weight lifts off my shoulders, and I’m about to start toward her when my eyes land on the man standing behind her.
It takes me a few moments to process what’s happening here. Then it all comes in a rush of snapshots.
Penelope’s stiff body as she moves toward me.
Those dark blue eyes are stained with tears.
The horror on her face.
A flash of silver pressed against her neck.
Knife.
There is a freaking knife pressed against her neck, and a trickle of blood is sliding down her pale skin from where it has already cut her.
Fear like I’ve never felt slams into me, making my knees buckle as I just stare at her shaking form. But then another feeling overpowers it—hot, boiling rage.
My gaze shifts to the man standing behind her, the man responsible for hurting her, and it’s like I’m thrown back into the past. And I have come face to face with the last person I expected to see.
“Bobby.” His name is barely a whisper as I stare at the man that played a crucial role in my past. A man that looks like a shell of the person I once knew.
His dark eyes stare at me with some sick form of glee; his mouth curved in an overly wide smile.
It’s all your fault!The last words he threw at me all those months ago come back to the surface.You killed him. If it weren’t for you, Christian would still be alive.
