It’s gonna be a PR nightmare and I might get flayed alive by Jules. But I can’t see any other way out of here.
The only thing I can focus on is getting all of us out of here. Getting Sin somewhere safe.
Iri finally reaches us from wherever the hell he’s been. He’s breathing hard and is looking worse for wear. His shirt is torn andthere are scratches on his scarred arms, like he’s lost a fight with a feral cat.
Or some feral fans.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter. “This is insane.”
“The car’s waiting for us outside. We just need to get to an exit,” he says.
We continue making our way along, with me freezing every person who dares to look in our direction and Cal acting as the muscle, physically clearing a path by shifting people out of the way.
It’s creepy as hell and seems to take forever before we get to an emergency exit and by that point, I must have frozen over a hundred people.
It doesn’t feel good. In fact, it makes me feel physically ill.
As soon as the cold air outside hits my face, I suck in a deep breath, trying to steady my breathing and the building nausea in my gut.
“Well, that was something.”
“I’ve never seen it like that before,” Cal mutters.
“Something went seriously wrong tonight,” Iri replies. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?” He turns to Sin and cups her cheek, brushing his thumb softly over the flesh there.
She squeezes his fingers briefly before pressing a quick kiss to his fingertips. “I’m fine. That was scary, though.”
He nods, eyes raking over the rest of us. “Everyone else?”
“I might have some bruises in interesting places, but I’m otherwise fine,” I mutter, rubbing my abused nipples.
Sin raises an eyebrow before reaching over to squeeze my hand. “You sure you’re okay? They seemed to be the most grabby with you.”
I nod. Sure, I feel kind of violated, but that’s not all that new. People forget there’s a person behind the ripped jeans and rockstar persona.
“I’m going to fix things for next time,” Sin says quietly as we make our way to the waiting car. “Something must have got messed up and we can’t have every gig ending in carnage.”
“There should have been security. No one should have got backstage without a pass and then security should have vetted them. We don’t let drunk or high people go backstage. They’re too much of a liability,” Iri replies.
No shit. My bleeding hand and poor nipples are evidence of why we don’t.
The car is waiting for us already, and we pile inside, letting out a collective sigh.
Things don’t immediately get better from there.
We’re stuck in traffic, about ten minutes from the hotel, when Iri curses down at his phone. “Seems like the crowd has followed us back. There’s a load of them outside the hotel.”
He shakes his head before leaning forward to speak to the driver in hushed tones. I flop back in my seat and close my eyes for a moment.
The adrenaline crash is hitting us all hard. Squinting around the car interior, I can see it’s not just me that’s affected. Sin’s barely keeping her eyes open and is blinking slowly, and Micah’s chin keeps bobbing down to his chest, only to spring up again.
We pass by the hotel entrance a little while later and the crowd has to be ten deep, screaming their heads off.
Shit. It’s close to midnight and out of the window, I spot the flashing lights as the authorities tackle the disturbance.
I can’t wait to see what tomorrow’s headlines have in store. Maybe this chaos will be top billing, ahead of the hundred people currently stuck frozen inside the stadium.
Somehow, I doubt it.
