by Lonnie Doris
I duck onto the bus and look around. It smells like Shane, but I catch a hint of the perfume I know Harper wears. The mixed scents remind me that it should be my perfume meshed with Shane’s, not that stupid plain cow’s, and I see red. I destroy everything in my path. Breaking mirrors, shattering glasses, jerking the TV off the wall. Taking out my knife, I begin slashing the chairs and couches. I walk back to the sleeping area, but suddenly from behind me, I hear a dog growl.
Oh shit. I wasn’t expecting them to bring their dog on tour.
The dog keeps creeping toward me, growling more and more aggressively. As the dog lunges forward in an attempt to attack me, I stab it on instinct to protect myself. That menacing growl is now a pathetic whimper. I slice it one more time, taking my anger and pain out on the dog, when it is really Harper I wish I were stabbing, watching almost in a daze as its blood flows out and around me.
Take that, you fucking mutt. Next time, I promise myself. Next time, I’ll do this to Harper. And that fucking cunt Emmie.
I kneel next to the ugly thing; it’s barely breathing. I dip my glove in its blood and write a warning on one of the mirrors. “You’re next, bitches.” I step back over the dog, kicking it in the ribs before looking to the front of the bus. With all that growling and whimpering, someone was bound to have heard me.
It’s time to abort this plan. My heart is racing, but I feel a weird sense of euphoria as I rush back toward the door. As I hurry away from the bus, I take off the gloves and put them back in my bag, pulling out my cell phone to call Sean. He picks up on the first ring.
“I didn’t plan for the fucking dog,” I huff.
“Harper didn’t mention they were taking the dog on tour,” he mutters.
“Well, they did. I stabbed it. Hopefully it will be dead by the time they find the fucking thing.”
Just then, I hear a commotion coming from where I just was at Shane’s bus. I keep the phone to my ear, but I maneuver myself behind another bus so I can see what is going on but not be noticed.
“Hold on, Sean. I think I see someone at Shane’s bus.” Just as I say the words into the phone, more people go running toward the bus.
“Cousin, get out of there before you get spotted.” I hear Sean saying.
“Shh! I want to see Shane.” Just as I say his name, the OtherWorld guitarist runs off the bus with the dog in his arms, and Shane appears. He looks good, and I ache to touch him, but then I hear him scream before both rockers are running to find help for the dog.
“I’m on my way to you, Sean,” I say and end the phone call.
I begin a fast-paced walk to the spot in the back parking lot where I told Sean to wait for me. Once I get past the gate, I begin jogging to Sean’s car.
“Fuck!” I yell as I get into the passenger seat of the car, and Sean drives off.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I continue to shout as I punch the dashboard.
“Calm down, cousin.”
“This was a very well-laid-out plan, and your one little screw-up by not telling me about the fucking dog just ruined it, you dumbass!” I scream at him.
“I can’t give you information that I don’t get myself,” Sean protests.
“What’s done is done.” I hit the dashboard one more time, my hands aching. Shit, my knuckles are bleeding. Now I’ll have to come up with a lie to tell Reginald to cover myself. Double fuck! “Just take me back to the hotel. I need to get the mutt’s blood off me.”
Nine
A few days later, Sean drops me off at my house, and I am angrier than I was when I left. What in the fuck is wrong with the universe? It’s been two days since I stabbed the dog and wrecked Shane’s bus. Not the plan I had when I left here.
The news of Shane’s bus is all over TV and social media platforms. Because of that, I know Reginald won’t be home. He is doing his best to get the most current information from the Demon’s Wings camp and keep the Rock America website, social media, and magazine itself up-to-date. Because of little Harper, my husband gets the only in-depth scoop and reports the facts the tabloids tend to leave out. This will give the magazine huge sales and keep Reginald out of my way for a little while at least.
He texted me earlier to tell me he would be at the office when I returned home. I don’t give a fuck. It’s better this way. I have to show him I look and feel refreshed, all the while I’m mad as hell on the inside that I didn’t succeed with my plan.
As I’m walking into the house, my phone buzzes, and I see it’s Mira calling me.
“Hi, Mira,” I say cheerfully, seething internally. “How was Michigan?”
“I had to cut my time short to head to Demon’s Wings’ latest stop on the tour. Did you hear about Shane’s bus and his dog?”
“Reginald told me about it. How sad,” I say, rolling my eyes. How sad the fucking dog didn’t die.
“Shane and Harper are devastated. But thankfully, Ranger is going to be okay,” she continues. “They love him like he is their own child. And since she can’t have kids, I guess he is her little fur baby.”
I have to remind myself that no one else knows that Harper had received potentially good news from the latest fertility specialist she’d seen in Germany. Apparently not even Emmie knew that little detail, from what Sean told me when he went through Harper’s emails and came across that tiny tidbit of information. Information that is still making me quake with rage.
“Do they know who would do this?” I ask her, masking my anger.
“They have no idea. No one saw anyone or anything out of the ordinary. But thankfully, Emmie is putting cameras on all the buses. Especially the entrances. If this psycho does it again, hopefully they will get caught.”
“I can’t imagine what they must be going through.” I’m getting bored with this conversation, but at the same time, I need to hear what else Mira has to say. She may give me a nugget of information I can use.
Mira mentioning cameras on the buses gives me an idea about putting some of my own cameras in places. I make a mental note to discuss having cameras installed in Emmie’s and Harper’s houses later.
“It’s very rough for all of them. Especially with all the kids traveling with them. Security has been increased for the remaining tour dates.”
Well, there is another piece of information I need to have. The next time, my press badge might not work. I’ll have to get Sean on the task of figuring it out.
“I’m sorry, Mira,” I lie. “I’m sure this chaos is making your life hell right now.”
“It definitely is. I just can’t believe there is a sick person walking the streets—”
“I’ve got to go,” I cut her off before she pisses me off to the point I slip up and say something I shouldn’t. The fucking bitch doesn’t know shit. “I just arrived back home today, and I have so much to deal with. Talk soon.”
I press end on the call. She just called me a sick person. I am not sick. No one understands what Emmie took from me. Not to mention what Harper is keeping from me.
I walk into the kitchen to get a bottle of water.
What am I going to do now?
How do I fix this?
I’m pacing back and forth in the kitchen when Reginald walks in, startling me.
“Welcome home, darling,” he says, wrapping his arms around me.
“Hello, my love.”
“Would you like me to take you out to dinner tonight?” he suggests.
“Yes, that sounds wonderful.” I force a smile. Not.
“How was your spa visit?” he asks, releasing me from his arms.
“Not as invigorating as I thought it would be.” I shrug. “But it was productive.”
That’s not a lie. It was productive. I turned their worlds upside down—score one for me—and even if I didn’t get to take out Harper, I got their attention.
Hours later, Reginald and I are sitting in Hell’s Kitchen. He pulled one of his favors, knowing I have always wanted to come here. My husband genuinely loves and cares for me. I want
for nothing. But I don’t love him. Can’t love him. Nothing will make me forget about the only man I could ever love.
Shane is my forever.
I’m sitting there lost in my thoughts about Shane when I feel the hair stand up on the back of my neck. Did Reginald just ask me about children and if we can start a family? I couldn’t have heard that right.
“I’m sorry, my love. What was that you asked about?” I inquire.
“Children, darling. Babies. Can we begin to start our family?” he asks again, looking hopeful.
Shit! He wants to talk about a damn family now? I don’t want a family with him. I excuse myself from the table and head to the ladies’ room, leaving him with a confused look on his face. I do not want to have this conversation. He ruins everything. What about me and what I want?
I get my thoughts together and head back to the table, standing next to my chair. “I don’t feel well. Take me home.”
“Darling?” Standing, he reaches for me.
“I want to go home, Reginald. You’ve ruined my appetite. I just wanted to come and have a nice dinner,” I spit out.
“I’m sorry, darling. Let’s sit and enjoy our meal,” he pleads. Fuck, why does he have to sound so whiny? It only gives me a headache.
“Take me home! Now!” I shout, causing other patrons to look at us. I hear them begin to whisper to each other, and I know they are talking about us. “Now, Reginald,” I command again when he just stands there looking dumbfounded.
When he doesn’t move, I turn around and walk out of the restaurant. I’m leaving with or without him, I really don’t care which. He catches up to me as I step outside, grabbing my arm to stop me. I spin around, looking at him with all of the hate and disgust I have brewing inside me.
“Let. Go. Of. Me!” I scream, causing the valet attendant to rush over.
“Is everything okay, ma’am?”
“My wife is fine,” Reginald answers before I can, pulling out his parking ticket and handing it over to him.
The young man reluctantly leaves to retrieve our car. Reginald and I stand there in silence until the car is pulled to a stop in front of us. My husband opens my door and I get inside, while he tips the valet and gets behind the wheel.
We are halfway home before Reginald breaks the silence.
“Darling, would you like to tell me what happened back there?”
“You!” I snap back at him. “You are what happened.”
“Clearly, you are upset about something I’ve said. Please, talk to me, and let’s work it out,” he begs.
“I don’t want to talk to you right now. I don’t even want to look at you. Just drive me home, and when we get there, leave me alone.”
He pulls the car into our driveway. Before he cuts off the engine, I’m out of the car and running into the house. He makes me so angry. I just want him gone. Out of my life, so I can start my real forever with Shane.
I’m heading up the stairs when I hear him following behind me.
“Helena, stop and talk to me. Please.”
I whip around to face him. “I. Do. Not. Want. To. Talk. To. You!” I scream in his face.
“Are you acting like this because I asked about starting a family?”
“Arrrrrrhhhhhhh!” I scream louder and begin hitting him with my fists. “Leave me alone. Stop talking! Just fucking stop!”
He tries to protect himself from my blows, but I just keep pounding on him, letting out all of the aggression I have built up from not succeeding in my plan to get Shane back. All the rage I have built up because I am tired of living this lie.
Ten
Getting into the tour bus area even with all the heightened security is easier than I thought it would be. It is dimly lit back here because some of the lights on the poles are out.
I see Shane’s bus. Looking around to make sure no one has noticed me, I open the door and climb aboard. I don’t see any sign of the mutt this time. I begin tearing the bus apart like a madwoman. Slicing cushions on the couch and chairs, pulling things off the tables and scattering them along the floor. I walk into the bathroom and take out my red lipstick to write a message on the mirror. One bitch down. One to go. You’re next, you dirty slut. Then I shatter the mirror with the butt of my gun.
I go back to the front of the bus, feeling a little déjà vu. I turn back to look at my handiwork.
I look out the window to make sure no one is around before I make my exit. Once out of the bus, I take off running back toward the parking lot.
As I’m rushing past the other buses, I see the door to one open and a little girl emerge from it. Mia. Emmie and Nik’s little brat. Well, she wasn’t part of my plan tonight, but now I’ve just found my way to destroy her bitch of a mother.
Mia shuts the door to the bus and starts sprinting toward the stage area. The festival is shutting down, with Demon’s Wings closing the show, so there aren’t many people milling about since they are either watching the band or getting ready to head out to their next stop. The few that are around are roadies packing up the other bands that played tonight. No one seems to notice the small child running like her life depends on it.
I follow her and slowly close the distance between myself and the little girl. When I am satisfied no one is watching, I grab her arm. She screams, and I throw her over my shoulder and hurry toward the exit. She is a squirmy little thing. The harder I hold her, the harder she tries to get out of my grasp. She begins yelling, “Let me go!”, hitting my back with her little fists, and kicking her feet.
Fuck. The little monster has the spunk of her mother.
I begin running, tightening my hold to make sure I don’t drop her. When I reach the alley, I stop and put my hand over her mouth before taking off again. I make it to the parking lot and run onto the side street outside the stadium where Sean is supposed to be waiting for me.
From behind me, I heard a woman’s voice calling Mia’s name. Freezing, I stop and glance over my shoulder to see who it could be. It isn’t Emmie or any of her aunts, but some little dark-haired woman I don’t recognize, so I keep moving.
But the bitch actually starts running after me. She is fast, despite how short she is, and catches up to me before I even realize it. She pushes me from behind, causing me to fall and bring Mia down too. Mia begins to squirm underneath me and tries to crawl away. I jump to my feet and turn toward the female who has been chasing me.
“Mia?” The woman is out of breath but rushes forward and lifts Mia into her arms. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” I hear her ask the little monster.
“I-I w-want my m-m-momma,” the annoying brat cries against her chest.
I step in front of the woman. She is not going to ruin this for me. I am so fucking close to destroying Emmie Armstrong’s entire world. All I need is to take her daughter, and Emmie’s entire life will crash and burn around her. “I don’t think so, bitch,” I snarl. “You aren’t messing this up for me.”
I pull the gun Sean had reluctantly gotten for me, which I have hidden my hoodie pocket. My plan had been to shoot Harper since the knife had been too messy when I’d used it on that damn dog. Fingers shaking from my rage, I point it at Mia’s would-be savior.
The woman holding Mia stills, staring at me as horror fills her eyes. I pull the trigger, unloading two rounds straight into her chest. I watch as she falls to the ground, taking the child with her.
The shot echoes around me, hurting my ears, and I know someone must have heard it.
Fuck. I’ve got to get out of here.
I take off running toward where Sean is parked, waiting for me. I swing the door open and jump inside, slamming it once I’m seated.
“Go, go, go!” I scream at Sean as I glance around frantically to make sure no one is watching or following us.
He puts the car in gear and squeals out of the space.
“What the hell happened?” he demands as he speeds onto the interstate.
“I had the little monster in my arms and some bitch stopped me
, so I shot her.”
“What?” he screeched. “Who the fuck did you shoot, Helena?”
“I don’t know. She wasn’t anyone related to Mia, but she knew who Mia was.”
“Is she dead?”
“Probably. I unloaded two rounds into her chest.” I shrug. That bitch better be dead, or I will have to go back and finish her off.
“Helena!” he bellows and pulls the car over.
“What the fuck are you doing, Sean? Drive. Do you not hear the sirens coming?” I demand, noticing he is actually shaking. What a little pussy.
“You shot someone, Helena,” he whispers, his eyes full of fear and disgust.
“And? Are you trying to get us caught?”
“Us?” he cries, his face as pale as death.
“Yeah, asshole. Us!” I scream back at him. “Drive. Now!”
After a few tense moments, he finally pulls back onto the interstate and heads south to get us back to LA.
After about an hour of tense driving, Sean speaks again.
“Helena, what do we do now?” he asks, his voice shaking.
“We drive home,” I respond nonchalantly with a careless shrug.
“Do you not realize the severity of what you just did? Are you seriously that deranged?” he asks, disgust thick in his tone.
“Listen here, you little shit. I pay you to do what I want, not question me about what I do. Drive this fucking car and get me home.” His whining is getting on my nerves. After all I’ve done for him, he is being such a little pussy now.
“I’m getting sick of you throwing it in my face that you pay me—”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you are sick of. You want to know what I’m sick of?” I ask, looking directly at him. His jaw clenches, and I think I see tears in his eyes. “I am sick of incompetence. I am sick of my plans not going as they should. And most of all…” I turn back to look out the windshield. “I am sick of not having the life I was supposed to have,” I say coldly.
