The Prospect

THE PROSPECT: CHAPTER THIRTY

Tricia

The show ended with the crowd in front of us on their feet, rushing the stage in excitement. My blood was rushing through my body, on fire and buzzing with electricity I hadn't felt since the last time we performed live.

I almost forgot how good this felt.

The stage went black and the four of us rushed into the wings, leaving our instruments and microphones there for the crew to break down and pack up. Even Jenna left her drums for someone else to touch. Somewhere along the way, she must have abandoned her whole no one touches my drums but me mantra.

She grabbed my shoulders, the tight coils around her face bouncing as she jumped up and down with me. "Oh my fucking God! That was unbelievable! Listen to them!"

Beyond the stage, the crowd was chanting our names.

Pride swelled in my chest. We did that. The four of us.

Leaping into the air, I yanked Jenna to me, crushing her in a hug. Kurtis and Jamie joined us, completing our group hug.

As our celebratory hug ended, I caught the eyes of two men from over their shoulders. If I hadn't been so on edge all day, they would have looked like nothing more than normal security at a venue.

Wearing all black. Standing stiff as a board near the doors. Bluetooth headsets coiling around their ears. It all appeared very normal...

...except for the guns holstered beneath their jackets. A few weeks of hanging around HSC and I'd come to learn what a concealed weapon looks like, even beneath a layer of clothing.

Never in my life had I ever seen venue security packing like that.

And they were both staring directly at me. Not the band. Me.

I swallowed hard and pulled away from my bandmates, wiping at the sweat dotting the back of my neck.

Based on the mixture of curiosity and concern etched over Kurtis, Jamie, and Jenna's faces, the abrupt shift in my demeanor didn't go unnoticed.

Jenna took my hand and dragged me toward the back door where the crew was already breaking down our equipment and bringing it to the loading dock at the back. "C'mon," Jenna said. "I may be allowing them to touch my drums, but I sure as hell am not letting them out of my sight until they're loaded and locked away."

I allowed her to pull me outside, but my gaze stayed locked on the men with the guns.

One leaned in and whispered something to the other as Jenna and I went outside. I breathed a sigh of relief when I was out of view of them. I didn't doubt for a second that they still had eyes and ears on me, though.

Outside, there was a crisp breeze cooling the otherwise warm air and the half-moon overhead glowed almost as brightly as the streetlamps and flood lights casting over the loading dock.

"Girl," Jenna exhaled, interlocking her elbow with mine. "You've got to relax. Enjoy this. You're letting Kiddo's paranoia get in your head. We just had a kickass show with our first signed record label. This is the biggest thing to ever happen to our band... and you're missing it."

A glance over my shoulder confirmed that one of the security guards was now standing in the open door, still watching me.

Not paranoid.

And I couldn't help the sinking feeling that Kiddo was right afterall.

And I didn't even have my phone to call and check in with him. He would know by now that I was gone. He would have found the note and my cellphone. Hopefully Priya wasn't fired for helping me.