“Did you know about this?” Hayley finally asked.
Michael shook his head. “I knew your mother was concerned. Pop stars deal with this kind of stuff all the time. She thought it best to keep you in the dark until we had more concrete evidence.”
“It’s possible this man is a legitimate threat,” Bryce said. “You don’t need to worry. Nothing will happen to you with us here. But you do need to let us do our job, so you can do yours.”
Hayley nodded. “Ok,” She rubbed her forehead. “I can’t deal with this right now. Just…do what you need to do. But don’t scare any of the people who come. I’m not some museum piece that a doesn’t talk or laugh or cry. I don’t want them to forget I’m a real person.”
“They won’t,” Bryce said. “Any fan who cares about you won’t mind a little increased security. It’s normal. The bigger the star, the more protection is required.”
“I’m not a big star,” Hayley said.
Bryce cracked a smile, almost laughing. “Yes, you are.” He gently disagreed.
“Now, go do sound check, and we’ll take care of everything on our end. There’s no need to worry.” Even as he managed to keep his voice calm, Bryce still squeezed his fists so his arms wouldn’t betray him and reach out to her in an embrace.
Hayley nodded. Bryce turned on his heel and disappeared to the back of the venue, already calling out instructions to the gathered security men. He was like a human icicle, Hayley thought. She wished she could see what he’d be like warmed up and melted. Could it be possible the person underneath that hardness might be as soft as his grey eyes? She wondered what it would take to find out.
Hayley clutched her guitar and walked back to the mic, wounded by both thoughts of the man she’d never break through to, and the fear she felt now knowing someone wanted to kidnap her, steal her away from her life and her family. Anger flared inside her that someone would try such a thing. Howdarethey? Hayley planted her feet on the stage and began to play, as the sound tech adjusted and monitored her vocals, her guitar, and her accompanying band. If the security team wasn’t here, she’d be helpless to anyone who tried to hurt her.
Hayley now felt angry with herself for neglecting her safety. Bryce must have thought she was such a helpless child; no wonder he was so cold to her. After tonight, she resolved, she’d take more responsibility for herself. Take a self-defense class, stand up for herself. The spotlight now clicked on, flooding the stage. As Hayley ran through another set, she resolved to never be anyone’s victim if she could help it.
* * *
After the show,the crowd still echoed with cheers and laughter as Hayley wiped sweat off her forehead backstage.
“Great show,” Michael said, waiting for her in the dressing room with a towel and bottle of water, like he always did. “They loved it.”
“Yeah?” Hayley asked. “It felt good to sing for them.” She paused to catch her breath. A good show was like a two-hour workout.
“If you want to greet them, do it before the crowd clears out,” Michael said, opening the bottle of water for her. “Stay on the stage, or you’ll make the Ice Man mad.”
“Bryce?” Hayley asked.
“Whichever one is the young one,” Michael said. “That guy is intense.”
Hayley’s body warmed again, thinking about Bryce. “He is.” She handed her guitar to Michael. “Be right back.”
Hayley slipped out stage to the left. She liked surprising her fans by slipping into the crowd to say hello, give hugs, and sign autographs. The security guys were still gathered at the other side of the stage, waiting to help clear out the venue as the houselights warmed back up, the crowd finished their drinks, and talked about the show. Hayley snuck out from behind the curtain and into the crowd.
A group of girls chatting closest to the stairs squealed, as Hayley tapped their shoulders. She thanked them for coming and worked her way toward the center of the room. Hayley loved the warmth of her fans and seeing them smile. She signed a few autographs and grasped offered hands. The crowd had noticed she was out on the floor now, and began to press in, eager to see her up close and get a chance to speak to her. Hayley was used to people tightening around her as she made her way from one side of a room to the other, after a show. She was almost through the closing tunnel of people, when a hand gripped her arm and tugged her between a line of girls squeezed shoulder to shoulder. Hayley yelped and tried to reclaim her arm from the over-eager fan as she stumbled forward, but the hand – a man’s – wouldn’t let go.
“Excuse me!” she said, as the man turned his back to her and pulled her out of the crowd into the outer walkway. The man wore a black collared shirt and a ballcap that covered most of his graying hair. He kept his face low as he talked.
“Love your work,” he said. “Always wanted to see you up close. My daughter wants to meet you – she’s just over there.” He kept a tight grip on her hand and pulled her toward a fire exit hidden in the side wall.
“Thank you,” Hayley replied, “But you have to let go.” Hayley’s heart began to thump in her chest as she told herself not to panic, not to make a scene. She swallowed a scream as he yanked her closer to his body.
“She’s right here,” he said, gesturing at the door. “She just loves you so much.” He pushed hard on the exit, setting off an alarm. The girls in the venue jumped or screamed in surprise as the fire alarm wailed. In the commotion, the man shoved Hayley through the door. “Right out here,” he said.
“No!” Hayley yelled. The man took hold of her arm with both hands and tired to force something in her had. Just as the struggle to free herself from the man’s grip seemed futile, Bryce barreled out of the crowd, catching the fire exit door before it clicked shut behind the man and Hayley.
Bryce caught the man by surprise and punched him in the stomach, forcing him to release Hayley’s hand. “Get inside!” he instructed Hayley. Concert goers were now beginning to stream out of every fire exit as the alarm continued to wail.
Bryce lunged at the man again. The fire alarm was deafening, and Hayley had to fight against the current of people flowing toward and out of the venue to get back to the stage. A pair of security guys rushed toward her and took her by the elbows, guiding her backstage.
“No fire,” they said. “Someone tripped the alarm.”
“I know,” she said, shaking. “Bryce is fighting him.” She pointed at the exit and one of the bodyguards took off through the crowd to assist Bryce. The other held onto her elbow and guided her to a chair.
