With a frown on my face, I place the books where they belong and move.
“What the hell?” I hear Linda’s confused voice gasp from across the store.
I peek out from the aisle and see her locking the store door in a frenzy.
Walking toward her, I eye the swarm of people outside. “What’s going on?”
She shrugs in frustration and sighs. “I don’t know! All these people with cameras just came running here out of nowhere!”
My face scrunches up, and I stand there in place, confused.Did word get out that X3 was here?That’s the only potential reason that I can think of. Nothing juicy happens in this small town of mine.
Walking over to stand behind the counter, which is right beside a massive window, I listen intently to their screams outside.
“Have you spotted them?” one of them snaps at the other.
A bald man shrugs his shoulders and fiddles with his camera. “I’m just as confused as you are.”
“These X3 kids are driving the media crazy. They disappear for multiple weeks, and when they’re finally spotted, they disappear again!”
Shit. My heart races. The paparazzi found out the triplets were here.Who the hell told the media?
I don’t want to believe it was Harper. She wouldn’t do that to me.
But would she?
The last time I saw her, she was weird. It looked like she wanted to say more, but she kept her mouth shut. I want to laugh in the paparazzi’s faces. They won’t be finding X3 anywhere around here.
By all means, spend all night searching, but you’ll come out, wondering what you’re doing with your life.
Following people and taking pictures is a shitty job, not only for the people like X3, but also for them. It must be tiring and boring. The things I’ve heard from Leonidas about them make me hate them. They’ll say anything to anyone for a good story. For a big, fat check, they could not care less about ruining lives.
“I can’t open the store with those hooligans out there, pulling that nonsense!” She flicks her middle finger at one of the paparazzi.
I freeze when my eye meets his, but I sigh when he just glances away.
“Take the rest of the day off, Trinity. If they’re not gone by the end of the day, I’m calling the police.”
“Are you sure?” Don’t get me wrong; I want to leave, but I’ve taken more than enough sick days. It feels wrong to just leave on my first day back.
She waves me off with a small smile. “Go, dear. I don’t want you here with all those jackass men out there.”
Smiling at her and bidding her good-bye, I leave through the back door. The entire time I walk to my car, my anxiety creeps in and tells me they’ll find me. Yet I hear Leonidas’s voice in the back of my mind, telling me to fight them back ten times harder. So, that’s what I do. I stride to my car like the bad bitch I am and push my thoughts somewhere I can’t hear them.
The moment I smell the clean leather scent of my car, I calm down. My nerves settle down as I spot the hula girl on my dashboard with Elijah’s face taped to it. I miss them, all of them, so much. Life sucks without the people who make you happy. It seems as if I’m getting reminded of that constantly.
I glance down at the promise bracelet Leonidas made me. Knowing he has the same piece of cloth around his wrist brings me comfort. My finger grazes over the four beads.
“I love you,” I whisper out in the silence of my car.
FIFTY
LEO
Eat, practice, write, eat dinner, sing, go to sleep—that’s the daily schedule the label has put me, Elijah, and Amelia on. I feel so fucking blessed to be at their services, to be worked as their slave and not as their equal. Note the sarcasm.
I forgot how much I hated it here until the moment I arrived in LA. Back in the town where Trinity lives, the air is fresh and clean. Here in LA, it reeks of gasoline, cigarettes, and fake people.
I know I’m lucky to have the opportunities I have, but I want to play video games in the afternoon because I’m bored. Under Dad’s heated gaze, that’s not possible. You would think we’d killed his cat with the way he treats us. In Canada, I felt like I was living my old life. I was still singing and doing what I loved, but not under the watchful eyes of the label. They constantly bully us down and peel our layers away until we have nothing left.
