We located Max pulling roadie duty near the rear of the main stage. As bleary-eyed as Rory had been, he grimaced at our approach.
Cameron slapped him on the shoulder. “I’ve got ten minutes before I start work. The story better be worth it.”
Max threw a quick glance at me then set down the crate he’d been holding. “I’d like to say this wasn’t my idea, but I’m pretty sure it was fifty-fifty. No idea why the lass went along with it.”
He grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and stripped it over his head. I stared wide-eyed then homed in on the fresh tattoo on his chest.
A little bird. A robin.
Rory’s middle name.
“Rory made you get a tat of her name?”
“What are ye talking about?” he asked.
“Aurora Robin Westacre. Even so, I’d recognise her style. She sketched the design, right?”
“Fuck. Yeah.” His expression grew pained. “It makes sense now why we have matching ones.”
My mouth fell open. “Are you telling me that she got one, too?”
Then I recalled the way she’d gingerly eased herself in and out of the car. “Where’s hers?”
“Hip.” Max poked at the clear plastic covering over his. “I was talking about getting the sleeve done. We ran into Smith.” He gestured with his head over to another crew member, a heavily tattooed man I’d seen around. “Next thing I knew, which is sketchy because there was half a bottle of tequila involved, Rory had chosen a pattern and I was laid out under the needle. Didnae know this was a robin. Ours look different.”
Cameron wrinkled his nose. “Pretty sure that means the two of you have to get married now. Otherwise it’s going to be weird to explain to future partners.”
I snorted a laugh, but Max only looked more miserable.
“It’s not even like that. We had fun, but there was no…” He flicked a finger between me and Cameron.
“Spark.” Cameron supplied.
My heart thrilled at his choice of description.
“Exactly. This one’s just a wacky memory to tell the grandkids.”
I whipped out my phone and activated the camera. “Mind if I taunt my so-called best friend a minute?”
Max shrugged, and I snapped a close-up of his tattoo. Then I forwarded it to Rory.
Elise: Look familiar?
Rory: He showed you? The traitor.
Elise: We beat it out of him. Aurora Westacre, what were you thinking?
Rory: Thinking was definitely not on the cards. Don’t tell Mom?
Cameron remarked something to Max that had him swearing.
“It’s nothing to do with Maddock. Why should I give a fuck that he doesnae want to look like me anymore?”
“Seriously, ye two have to reconcile,” Cameron replied.
“Fine. Aye, you’re right. Maybe I am being a dick, but I have no clue how to fix this when half the time I want to brain him. Whether he means to hurt me or not, it keeps fucking happening. Just drop it.” Max jammed his shirt over his head, swung up the box, and stomped away.
“Who’s Maddock?” I asked Cameron.
“His twin. They dinna get along but, until recently, kept the exact same appearance. Hairstyle and everything.” His concerned frown lifted to a gentle smile. “I wish we could hang out all day, but I have a job to do.”
“I wish we could, too.”
“Elise,” a voice sang.
I peeked back to see Viola, Baby G in her arms. “You’re back. If you’re looking for Leo, I can take ye to him? Or we can just chill.”
“I’d love to.”
Viola twisted to speak to someone behind her, and Cameron moved in on me.
“Before ye go,” his voice grew urgent. He ducked his mouth to my ear. “I’m sorry about yesterday. About scaring you. Or triggering you. Whatever I did. I cannae get the night out of my head and I wish that wasn’t how it ended.”
An instant rush of heat followed his words. We’d mostly sidestepped discussion of our late-night hook-up, and now I knew why, on his part.
“Don’t apologise. I loved it.”
Really, I wanted to kiss him. But we were with his people, and I didn’t want to overstep. Then I made the mistake of staring deep into his eyes.
Cameron burned with need.
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to my forehead. “Good to know.”
With his words lingering, he left me ablaze.
Hours later, Viola and I finished dinner at a cosy corner in the campground. Baby G dozed, strapped in his carrier, and neither of us wanted to head out into the festival. I felt the weight of attention on me every time we went near the gate, and Viola was happier not taking her baby into the crowd.
Viola’s phone dinged. She peered at the screen then grinned. “It’s Casey in our girl chat group. She was telling us how she’s training with the mountain rescue service now, then I mentioned ye and she’s gone all embarrassed.”
I winced. “I have a confession regarding her.”
Viola lifted her inquisitive gaze to me.
“When I met Casey, I acted strangely. God, this is awkward. I put on a fake accent. She probably thinks I’m nuts.”
With a snort of amusement, Viola shook her head. “She didn’t mention the accent but she’s mortified she didn’t recognise ye.”
“No! How was she supposed to when I spoke like this?” I put on my fake upper-class English accent.
“Oh, we need to film that. Hang on.” She activated her camera and trained the screen on both of us. “Casey,” she said to the video recording but in a weird, plummy accent. “Meet my good friend, Elise.”
“How do you do,” I added, grinning for the camera. “Would you like some tea? How about a crumpet?”
Viola burst out with a cackle. “Sending that to her right now. She’s going to die.”
Gordain strode around the corner of the trailers, Leo behind him. Both men wore grim expressions. Viola and I sat taller.
With no preamble, the older man addressed his daughter. “We’ll likely be leaving tomorrow.”
Viola wrinkled her forehead. “Has something happened?”
“I’m naw sure yet.”
At his side, Leo pulled a face. “He won’t tell me either. I don’t mind giving up the interviews, though. The most important part of this trip was the performances and, after tonight, those will be done.”
His father-in-law only glowered deeper. Then his gaze found me. “Elise. I have a name for ye.”
My pulse picked up. “The photographer? You found out already?”
“I said I would. In these cases, ye follow the money. That picture earned a nice price for one Kessler Matthews. Ring any bells?”
Kessler. “She did a behind-the-scenes video shoot with me at an award show last year. She’s turned paparazzi?”
“Seems that way. The next question is what do we do about it?”
I worried my lip. I hadn’t expected this. Kessler had been so friendly. But then wasn’t that the case with everyone who could make money off of me? “Nothing yet. I need to think. Thank you for finding out.”
While the family talked about the return trip home, I sank into frustration over the photographer’s actions.
Then a thought occurred to me.
If they were all leaving, then Cameron was, too.
Obviously, he had to go home at some point. So did I. But I didn’t want that. I needed longer with him, and I couldn’t have it.
We only had tonight.
Evening drew in, and the time of the gig arrived. I’d already confirmed with Leo I’d go onstage tonight, and the news on the photographer only stiffened my resolve.
We arrived backstage in time to see the last song from the performer before Leo. Then a rapid process began, setting up Leo’s equipment.
I was drawn aside by a technician to be wired up.
Nerves held me taut. With my platinum-blonde hair scraped into a high ponytail, a gold halter neck top, and tiny shorts, I was battle ready. Prepared to go out onstage and show whoever was watching that I didn’t give a fuck.
No matter that inside, I quaked.
Just as I was led into a corridor, I caught a glimpse of Cameron. We hadn’t seen each other since we’d talked to Max earlier, and I wished I could run to him and beg for a hug.
He gave hugs readily, and his warm arms had the power to make the world vanish for a moment.
The technician tutted at the radio in his hands. “This isn’t working. I need to grab another cable.”
He left me alone in the quiet corner of the backstage area. My phone rang. My manager calling.
Throughout the day, Janelle had peppered me with questions. I’d agreed I would speak to her today, and a couple of hours ago had told her where I was, though not what I was doing here.
This was the last opportunity we could talk, so with a sigh, I answered.
“Elise. At long last.”
Instantly, she launched into a tirade of missed questions. Guilt folded in on me. I didn’t truly suspect my manager, even though she was on my list. She worked hard for me. Had dedicated her life to me.
“Honey, I need to cover one thing further now, but I really need you where I can see you. I’ll be at your house first thing in the morning. Can you meet me there?”
Los Angeles was only a few hours’ drive away, but there was no way I was leaving this evening. I knew everything she was going to say, but I wasn’t going to give up my last night with Cameron. Or the opportunity I had to investigate my blackmailer before I got back into the machine that was my acting career.
“I forgot to tell you. I’m onstage with Leo tonight. There’s something I need to do tomorrow as well. Give me a couple of days.”
“Elise! You’re killing me.”
“She’s where exactly?” came a second female voice.
Recognition took a couple of seconds to catch up.
My jaw dropped. That was Charlotte, Derren’s manager. “Derren’s with you?” I stuttered.
“I patched Charlotte into the call. Have you read anything I’ve sent you in the past couple of days?”
Janelle groaned with frustration, but I flinched. She hadn’t warned me first about someone listening in. I hated that.
My manager blustered on. “I’m working around the clock with Charlotte to put out the fires caused by the second movie’s delay. We’re deep in it. For the premiere, you and Derren—”
Me and Derren? Oh God, no. If they were all together, this had become a huge deal. At best, I’d hoped to make my appearance, smile for the cameras, then vanish inside. Interacting with Derren was out of the question.
“Can’t talk about this now. I’ve got to get onstage,” I interrupted.
“Onstage? What are you talking about?” Janelle gasped. “I thought after yesterday—”
“It’s being livestreamed. Tune in and watch.” Without giving any apology, I ended the call.
The technician reappeared with whatever kit he’d been missing. A second person trotted after him, and they frowned over the wires, grumbling until they’d fixed the problem.
All the while, images swirled in my head. Of being trapped, pinned down. All adding fuel to what I needed to get off my chest.
“We’re good,” the oblivious technician said. “I’ll take you back now.”
“I’ll make my own way. I just need a minute.”
A minute for what, I wasn’t sure.
They left me alone, and I did nothing but stare at the wall. A roar went up—Leo must have already walked out. I had two songs until I was on.
Several deep breaths later, I’d pulled myself together. I sank into my actor’s persona. Every other emotion pushed aside.
I wouldn’t fall apart. The stage was mine for the taking.
Emerging into the corridor, I lifted my chin and marched down the now quiet stretch.
At the turn back into the main backstage area, a hand snatched my arm.
I yelped and tried to free myself, but a huge man loomed over me. A mask concealed his features.
He dragged me in the opposite direction.
“What the hell? Get off!” I squeaked.
In a narrow gap in the maze of equipment stacks, he spun me and crushed me against the wall, pressing my face into a crate.
He grasped the side of my neck, his fingers digging into my throat. “Get the fuck away from the stage. Leave the festival.”
I wrenched in his hold. He smacked me into the cabinet.
My head rang with the hit. Automatically, I froze up, and delayed terror stole over me.
I had no chance of escaping unless he let me. In a single movement, he could crush my windpipe.
“Do you hear me?” he muttered through the mask. “You’re leaving now. Nod if you understand.”
I nodded rapidly, anything to escape him.
“Elise!” Cameron shouted.
My attacker swore but dropped his hold.
I whimpered and flew my hands to my throat. Cameron appeared in the corridor then lunged at the man. The stranger shoved him off then grabbed a crate from the top of the stack. It smashed to the ground between him and Cameron.
Then he fled.
I swallowed hard. The next second, Cameron was at my side, and he ran his arms around me.
“Fuck. Are you okay?”
I tried to reply but coughed, my throat aching. I made a second attempt, and my voice was a rasp. “He came out of nowhere. It was over in a split second.”
Cameron led me into the brighter part of the corridor and examined my throat. His fingers angled my chin with careful gentleness, at odds with the tightness of his muscles. “What did he say?”
“He demanded I leave the festival.”
Boots thudded along the corridor, other security guards arriving. I hadn’t even noticed Cameron call them. He snapped out an order, and the men took off once more.
His attention came back to me. “We’ll get him. Don’t worry. How badly are ye hurt?”
I gripped his fingers. “Not that badly. But if you hadn’t come along…”
We both quietened, and Cameron stared down at me, intense worry holding his features taut.
“I’m still going onstage,” I uttered, my throat thick. “I don’t know how that man knew who I was or what I was doing—”
Then a memory dawned. “He was my security guard from two days ago. Do you remember the guy?”
Cameron’s brow furrowed. “Are ye sure?”
I shook my head, because it had all happened so fast. I wasn’t sure of anything.
The security team returned. “We lost him. The festival’s head of security is on her way.”
Cameron glowered. “What we do next is up to ye, but first we need to go to Gordain.”
He was right, and I went with him, my adrenaline sky-high.
One truth rang true. For some reason, somebody badly didn’t want me on that stage.
Which made it even more important for me to take that step.
