Foolish Games (39 page)

Oh, holy shit.

Riley looked over at me, but I couldn’t meet his eyes as he softly chuckled.

“Everything else should be relatively normal,” Harlow explained to the crew. “No big surprises,” he continued as he put in his ear piece. “So let’s do this.”

“Randy, get the spotlight ready,” Harlow instructed. The crew member was gruff, but attractive like he could have been Viggo Mortensen’s twin.

I returned my gaze to the crowd when they started hollering below us as the band took the stage.

“Wait for Hawkins’ cue,” Harlow commanded.

“In four,” Harlow held out his fingers, “three, two, and one, lights up.”

Hawkins hit his first note just as the lights came up. Harlow had to anticipate everyone’s actions on the stage for the lights to match the pace of the music. The whole stoic thing was working for Riley in a setting where all you could do was look on.

Wanting to understand Riley’s obsession with the lighting aspect of the show, I leaned in as he pointed out certain things. One of them being, that the lighting screens behind the stage flashed scenes of city streets at such a fast pace that it blurred the picture like a watercolor. He pointed at the lights down below that flashed at the same manic pace as Blakely played the drums.

The night continued without a hitch until Randy, from the lighting crew, bent over. Riley seemed to notice, too, but Harlow was too busy working the lights to look over. Randy attempted to lift the spotlight when he suddenly dropped to his knees and passed out. Harlow turned to look over at Randy in shock as the spotlight zipped off the stage below. In a delayed reaction, no one moved but Riley. He suddenly jumped ahead and grabbed onto the light.

Riley moved the heavy spotlight around, following Hawkins like he had been doing it for years. And my mouth dropped open—since when did Riley ever react in these situations? The other two crew members quickly tended to Randy who was coming around again before one of them patted Riley’s back. He took the spotlight and Riley moved back to my side. He was still watching on with the intensity of a crew member.

The lights went down at the end of the song. Randy was helped off the platform by a paramedic, who said something about dehydration. Harlow came up to Riley, and I noticed the angry expression he seemed to reserve only for us had disappeared. He grabbed on to Riley’s shoulder and said, “Thanks, man.”

“No, problem.” Riley puffed out his chest a fraction. The testosterone kicked up a couple notches when they exchanged some kind of manly handshake before Harlow turned back to the stage.

Trying to stay cool for Riley’s sake, I stopped myself from shouting with the crowd when Hawkins walked across the stage for the encore. He slipped the strap over his shoulder and secured his guitar in place. The spotlight zeroed in on him as he grabbed the microphone to croon, “Josephine.”

But don’t it feel good, Josephine. But don’t it? At the end of the show, Harlow actually smiled at us before he climbed up the ladder. Riley took my hand in his and squeezed it. We smiled at each other before Hampton led the way up the ladder, too. Walking down the small hallway to the steps, I was only thinking about Hawkins as we descended the stairs.

“What’s your position?” I heard someone ask Hampton in his ear piece.

“Exiting the pavilion,” Hampton answered.

Riley pushed back the exit door and Kosic quickly entered from the outside.

“Where are you going, Joie?” he asked me breathlessly, stopping both Riley and me.

“Outside.” I nodded and went to walk around him.

He jetted out an arm while stopping me from exiting out the doorway.

Startled by his actions, I asked, “What is it, Kosic?”

Hampton turned around, noticing that we weren’t following behind him.

In the next second, I heard an explosion while Kosic sheltered me with his body as we were thrown down against the floor. Wincing from the pain of Kosic landing on top of me, I looked out the open door at a fiery ball that used to be a tour bus. We locked eyes with each other and I shrieked, “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do it,” he gasped for air.

“Whose bus is that?” I asked frantically. “Is Hawkins okay?!”

“Joie, you need to leave. You’re not safe here.”

“What do you mean?” He rolled off of me, but before I could press him for an answer he was up and running down the hall. Sitting up, I grimaced from the throbbing pain along the back of my head.

“Riley?” I called out, but I couldn’t see through the billowing black smoke. “Riley?”

“I’m here,” he groaned. “By the door.”

Relief flooded through me as I felt around for him. Hampton slammed the exit door shut to keep more smoke from coming in.

“Joie!” Hawkins hollered down the hallway behind us. “Joie, is that you?”

Oh, thank god, Hawkins was okay!

“Yeah, it’s me.” I coughed and hacked on the smoke.

Hawkins raced down to us and helped me up. He coughed and then covered his nose with the top of his shirt. “Are you okay?”

“Thanks to Kosic.”

“Where is he?”

“You don’t understand,” I whispered just out of the ear shot from Hampton who had come out of the explosion unscathed. “He stopped me
before
the bus exploded.”

“What?” Hawkins looked at me quizzically. He was visibly anxious and turned distractedly towards Riley. “Are you okay?”

“I was better before, but yeah, I’m okay.” Riley got to his feet.

Hawkins looked over his shoulder before he led me quickly outside to the parking lot. He turned to Hampton who had followed behind us. “I need to talk to them alone.”

“I can’t just let you stay out here unprotected,” Hampton argued.

“You can let me if you still want a job on this tour,” Hawkins snapped.

Hampton stopped pursuing and fell behind us. Hawkins led us past the fiery blaze outside. A group of frantic crew members were hovering and talking in the shadows, clearly thrown by the turn of events.

“Whose bus was that?” I asked.

“Swank’s, but he’s ok,” Hawkins reassured us. “He’s still back at the venue.”

Hawkins led us across the parking lot to my dad’s van.

“You need to find Kosic,” I urged him.

“Don’t worry, I will,” Hawkins promised. “But he can’t be doing this alone. He just doesn’t have the kind of experience or clearance it would take to pull this off by himself.”

“You think it’s someone who has clearance?” I asked him in horror.

“We don’t know who to trust anymore,” he confessed and opened my van’s side door. He looked in the back to make sure it was empty.

“What are you doing?” I asked him.

“I had you stay with me because I thought I was offering you the best protection, but now I know this is the
worst
place for you to be. Whoever is behind all of this has to be someone from the inside which means you need to get away from
here
as quickly as possible,” he said determinedly.

“There’s no way I’m leaving without you!” I insisted.

“He blew up a tour bus like he said he would. Don’t you understand?” His eyes were wild with fear. “I can’t let whoever is doing this get to you too.”

“Riley.” Hawkins turned and passed him a set of keys. “My family has a farm in Georgia on McCarthy’s Farms Road. It’s the safest place I can think of for you guys to go. I’ll meet up with the two of you as soon as I can.”

“Come with us,” I pleaded. “It’s not safe for you here either.”

“It’s not that simple,” he sighed. “This is my band. I’ll have to be here when the cops come.”

Riley started up the van and Hawkins pulled me in for one long, last hug.

He pulled away from me, and urged, “Joie, you need to leave.”

“I thought about it,” I said, but my voice was suddenly drowned out because of the sirens from the oncoming fire trucks.

“What?” Hawkins yelled, but he looked distractedly over his shoulder at Hampton as the trucks sped in.

“Joie, go with Riley!” He waved at me as he backed up. “Hurry!”

“I thought about it,” I confessed as Riley came up from behind to intercept me.

“I, I love you,” I shouted, but Hawkins had already raced back towards the fire. Riley tugged at my arm and pulled me away from the one thing I was sure of now.

Once Hawkins was closer to the fire, he whirled around to make sure I was finally leaving. He looked truly afraid for me so I snapped out of my dazed state. Quickly, walking back over to the passenger seat, I got in and fastened my seat belt. I watched the outline of Hawkins’ silhouette against the distant color of scorching flames and prayed that he would be safe as Riley started up the van. We pulled out of the space and I waved one last time at him before we were ushered in to the concert traffic. It looked like everyone had gotten out of their cars to watch on in horror at the blazing tour bus behind us instead of trying to exit the amphitheater.

“We should text Lizzie,” Riley spoke first.

“Surely, she’s safe with Warren.” I rolled my eyes, not wanting to think about her, as we pulled out of the parking lot. “Do you think Kosic bombed that bus?”

“I don’t know.” Riley exhaled. “But it’s true what Hawkins says, he can’t be working alone. He’s just the manager of the opening act. Hell, they practically have security watch them like they do the fans. Though, working with The Grimm Reaper would probably appeal to him since he could use some of the ransom money, especially with all his gambling debts. He’s probably just as poor as us.”

“Gambling debts?” I asked in bewilderment.

“That’s why he’s always playing cards. Didn’t you hear them tell him to stop counting that night?” Riley looked over at me.

“I just thought that he liked to play cards.”

“Oh yeah, he likes it alright.” Riley laughed.

It was bitter sweet to be back in the van again. It reminded me of all the fun the three of us had in it, but without Hawkins beside me, it had never felt emptier. Riley pulled off the road into a nearby parking lot after we had put at least fifty miles between us and the last venue. We laid down on the cot with our backs to each other, but I knew that neither one of us were sleeping. I was worried for Hawkins and I knew that he was worried for Harlow, but with all the added stress of almost getting incinerated by the tour bus, we eventually passed out. We woke up well into the next morning and I threw the sheet off me when I heard Riley stir up front. Reaching my arms out, I yawned as he threw a packet of left over crackers next to the cot.

“Breakfast of champions,” he said brightly.

Groaning, I stumbled up to the driver’s seat. Shielding my eyes from the noonday sun, I snatched a cracker out of his packet.

“Hey, yours are in the back,” he protested while turning away from me.

“Fine,” I grumbled. “Let’s just get this over with.” Shifting the gears, I pulled the van back onto the nearby road.

After merging onto the highway, I tried to keep my mind occupied by taking in the beautiful scenery of the countryside. At first it worked as I looked out at the long swaying fields of grass that extended out as far as the eye could see. Then visions of us in the grass laughing and kissing came reeling back to the forefront of my mind. Was it really just yesterday? If it wasn’t for the fact that my hair still smelled faintly like smoke and that we were kind of on the run from Hawkins’ own staff, I wouldn’t have believed that just yesterday we could have been so carefree and in love. Trying not to think about it, I glared out at the stretch of gray highway in front of us instead. Riley was typing away on his laptop beside me when he suddenly gasped.

“Oh, no,” Riley murmured with pure dread in his tone.

“What is it? Is it Hawkins?”

“Oh, Joie,” his voice cracked. “He has Lizzie.”

“Who does?”

“The Grimm Reaper,” he said gravely.

Swerving the van, I pulled over to the side of the highway.

“How do you know?” I suddenly went cold as I cut off the engine.

“It’s on the internet.” He looked sick as he clicked the mouse on the icon and hit play.

“Is this how you imagined your fifteen minutes of fame?” I heard a creepy voice ask Lizzie behind a camera. “Huh?”

I could see that Lizzie’s arms were bound behind her back. She was kneeling down on her knees, which were visibly scraped up, and her hair was plastered over her face as she cried. The spotlight shined on her in the semi-darkness of whatever god forsaken place he was holding her captive.

“No one is coming for you, are they, Lizzie?”

Lizzie looked helpless while kneeling there and wailing. My eyes suddenly welled up with tears because I had never seen her look so vulnerable.

“No, because we both know that you aren’t the real Lizzie. No, the real Lizzie is somewhere very safe from harm, isn’t she?” The sickly voice continued to torment her.

A stabbing pang of guilt washed over me. Why had I not looked for her last night?

“Hawkins would probably pay all the money in the world to save the one he truly loves, but not for you,” he said, mockingly empathetic.

“But Warren might care,
maybe
,” he questioned. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. You have twenty-four hours to get me the money or else!” The video suddenly cut off to a black screen.

Riley and I sat there, too stunned to utter a word. I stared ahead while watching the passing cars like a blur. God, how long had he had Lizzie? Riley played the clip again and again when he suddenly went rigid and mumbled, “Where is the next venue at?”

“Umm, I don’t know? West Palm Beach I think, why?”

“That’s where he’s taking her,” Riley announced. “We have to turn around.”

“But the tour is probably postponed after last night,” I reasoned with him. “If not canceled.”

“You don’t understand,” Riley interrupted. “The band has two crews; one that goes ahead to the next venue to set up the stage in the morning and the other that comes to take it down at night like in shifts. He’s with the first crew at the next venue. Look,” he turned the computer around and showed me. “In the back, those are equipment and musical cases.”