“The crew is wearing some of my cameras,” she said. “I’ll go collect them.”
“You’re not going back into the arena,” Butch said. “We’ll mail them to you.”
Mail them? Jeez, did he think she would wrap herself around Logan’s leg and refuse to release him? Yeah, she’d totally do that.
By the time she’d collected everything, some of her hurt had been replaced with indignation.
“I didn’t release any of the band’s secrets. What kind of people don’t even let a person defend herself before passing judgment?” she growled at Butch as he nudged her toward the exit.
“People who’ve been screwed over by conniving reporters a million times in the past,” Butch said. “Get a move on.”
“I need to talk to Logan first.”
“He’ll call you if he wants to talk to you,” Butch said. “If I were you, I wouldn’t sit by the phone.”
“Butch,” she said, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice, knowing it was no use. “You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt those guys. I care about them too much. I did write those things in my journal, but—”
“You might as well shut up. I’m done listening to you.”
He escorted/carried her off the bus and then pushed her toward the barrier in the parking lot that kept undesirables away from the musicians. She dug her heels into the asphalt. How was she supposed to see Logan and explain to him that she hadn’t betrayed him or his friends if she was forced outside the barrier?
“Don’t make me carry you,” Butch said. “Retain a little of your dignity.”
She’d trade dignity for the chance to tell the truth any day.
“What can I do to convince you that I’m innocent?”
He looked down at her, took her in from head to toe, and crossed his arms. “Not a damned thing.”
In the end, she refused to give up and Butch had to carry her across the lot. One of the roadies followed with her luggage and tossed it none too gently over the barrier fence. Butch set her struggling body down on the opposite side of the metal bars and spoke to one of the security guards, making sure she could hear him.
“Keep a close eye on her and do not let her near the buses. If she puts a toe on this side of that barrier, you call me to deal with her, and I’ll call the police to have her arrested.”
Arrested? For what? She hadn’t done anything.
Why wouldn’t Butch believe her? Why wouldn’t anyone listen?
“Please let me talk to Logan,” she pleaded. “The world won’t end if I lose this job, but if I lose him—” Her voice cracked and all the tension and anxiety, the hurt and humiliation, the fear and devastation streaked down her cheeks in a torrent of tears. She didn’t even care that everyone was staring at her complete meltdown.
“Keep an eye on her,” Butch said to the guard again, and then he whirled around and strode back toward the arena.
She tried to climb over the barrier, but the guard proved worthy of his title.
“Come on, lady, be smart about this. Do you want to go to jail?”
She honestly didn’t care if she went to jail, but if she ended up behind bars, she wouldn’t get to talk to Logan. She called his phone and left a short message. She knew he didn’t have his phone on him since she’d found it between the sofa cushions when she’d been packing her belongings, but she couldn’t just stand there idly and not try to contact him. He was probably still onstage having the time of his life, wondering where she’d gone. Or maybe his band had already informed him that she’d supposedly done exactly what she’d promised she’d never do. She prayed he’d give her a chance to explain and not simply take their word for what had happened.
And what had happened? Someone had obviously gotten hold of her journal, but who? Had a hotel maid taken it from her bag? Had she dropped it and a stranger picked it up? Had Susan stolen it during her presentation?
“Susan,” Toni said, her eyes narrowing. Her editor had wanted dirt on the band members. And boy, had she gotten it. Feeling defeated, Toni rubbed her forehead to try to ease the pounding in her skull. “How could I have been so stupid?”
She hadn’t personally released the information to the tabloids, but she was responsible for someone gaining access to it. She hadn’t protected those she cared about. If she hadn’t written those things down in the first place . . . If she’d been more careful with her journal . . . If she’d just stuck to the prescribed interview questions . . . If she didn’t trust people so easily. If, if, if.
She leaned against a rough stone wall and waited not so patiently for the band to come out after the show. The guard seemed to realize she’d been defeated, so he wasn’t watching her closely as he flirted with a pretty blonde trying to get in to see the bands. Toni hoped to use his lack of attention to her advantage when an opening presented itself.
It seemed to take an eternity for the band to emerge from the back exit. They were uncommonly grim as they strode toward the waiting bus. Reagan, especially, looked pale and forlorn. Logan brought up the rear, walking several paces behind the rest of them with his head down, as if he was the one who’d betrayed them. She wondered if they’d yelled at him because of what she’d supposedly done.
The security guard was too busy gawking at rock stars to notice Toni shift from the wall to the barrier fence. Abandoning her gear and luggage, she hiked up her skirt and climbed the cool metal railing. She dashed toward the bus. Logan drew to a halt as Toni streaked toward him. He turned in her direction. The look of betrayal on his handsome face made her stumble, but no, she couldn’t fall. Not now. She had to reach him. Had to explain. Oh God, don’t look at me like that, Logan. She feared he wouldn’t listen to her or believe her even if she did plead her case.
An arm around her midsection stopped her abruptly, and her feet came off the ground as she was pulled against a large hard body from behind. She struggled, kicking her feet and shoving down on the arm around her waist with both of her hands.
“Let me go!” she demanded.
“Not a chance,” the guard said. He grunted when her heel connected with his shin.
“Logan!” She struggled harder. “Logan, you have to listen to me. I didn’t do it. I swear.”
Logan shook his head at her, turned away, and continued toward the bus.
“Logan!”
He didn’t so much as look at her as she screamed for him. Yet her struggling had finally weakened the guard enough that she slipped from his grasp. Unprepared for freedom, she stumbled forward, catching her fall on her palms, before regaining her footing and racing toward the bus.
“Logan, please hear me out,” she yelled as he stepped onto the bus. He was too far ahead. She wasn’t going to reach him in time, and he refused to look at her, to give her a chance to explain. He was pulling away from her and taking her shattered heart with him.
The door shut behind him, and she slammed into it with both hands. Pain shot through her asphalt-scraped palms, but she didn’t care. Didn’t care about anything but reaching him. She didn’t know if he’d be able to hear her through the closed door, but she had to try.
“Logan, you know I’d never do anything to hurt you or anyone in the band. Remember when I couldn’t find my journal? Someone stole it or found it. I don’t know. But that’s where the information came from. I didn’t give it away. I didn’t sell it. You know I wouldn’t do that. I love you!” Tears overflowed as she pounded on the door. “Please, Logan, listen to me.”
The bus shuddered as it rolled forward. She walked beside it, banging on the door with one hand. And then she was running, trying to keep up. She stumbled through the parking lot, but it was no use. He was gone. Without even speaking to her. Gone.