The Arrangement Anthology (107 page)

I ask, "Did your mother tell you the same thing?"

"She hasn't said, yet. Knowing her, she won't tell me anything until she knows everything."

"Well, tell her to stop. I don't want you owing her."

Sean just breathes. He's so close, but it feels like he's miles away. I've been longing for him, wishing for things that will never be. He's too damaged, too far gone. The monster within has taken over and I'll never see inside his soul again. That last ember was snuffed out and the worst part is that I'm the one who did it when I gave him back my ring.

My eyes catch a lump under his shirt and then rise to the chain around his neck. I go to reach for it, but Sean's hand juts out and stops me. "Don't." It's one word but it means so much.

Don't expose the ring.

Don't make me say I still want you.

Don't put us through that again.

Just don't.

CHAPTER 15

Sean stays with me, and Trystan won't let me out of his sight. We go to the stage before they let the crowd in and Trystan shows me where to stand. "Shake your ass and you'll blend in fine."

When I looked in the mirror, after they were done with my make-up and hair, my own mother wouldn't recognize me. Long blonde hair trails down my back and there are other dancers milling about who look identical. Some have blonde hair, some have red. There's not a brunette in sight, which makes me wonder if that's Trystan's type since it's so glaringly absent, and because I look like her, the woman with no name.

Sean doesn't comment, he only watches until Trystan retreats to below the stage. The pre-show band is setting up. I'm supposed to stay with Sean in the wing until Trystan is on stage. I shiver and rub my hands over my arms.

Sean's gaze flicks to the side, noticing. He silently moves behind me and asks, "Are you cold?" I shake my head. I can't speak due to the massive lump in my throat. I may not see him after tonight. If Mrs. Ferro finds the killer before we do, she'll take care of it, and then he'll be gone.

It's as if he knows what I'm thinking. Sean steps toward me and rubs his hands over my bare arms. "He won't be able to get you here."

"Sean, he's tried over and over again, and each time was at night. I'm scared." My voice is faint, barely audible above the noise.

"No one will hurt you here. There are too many guards. When Scott first told me this idea, I thought he was insane. But it's the safest place for you tonight. Security is everywhere, plus I'm here. Nothing can hurt you, not tonight."

For a second, I think he's going to ask me about last night, about what happened between Trystan and me. Instead, he says, "I know you like him." Sean's voice is so tense that I can't stand it, but he continues to rub the goose bumps off of my arms by sliding his strong hands over my skin.

I stare straight ahead. I want to say,
He's not you
, but that won't change anything—so I remain silent.

"It's all right, Avery. I'd rather see you with him than Black."

Looking straight ahead, I confess, "Trystan doesn't care for me like that."

Sean laughs and pulls me closer, pressing his chest to my back. "Then why do I hate him so much? And don't tell me he hasn't kissed you again or done more. I'm not blind, Avery. He's what you want me to be, I see that."

My stomach twists and drops when he implies that he knows we were together. He can't know. Even I'm not certain about how far things went last night, but it doesn't keep my face from heating up. For once, I'm glad I'm facing away from him. "You hate everyone."

"No, not everyone." His breath slides across my ear, warm and welcome. God, I miss this.

"I know. I feel that ring I gave you pressing against my back." It's so chunky that holding me tight makes it obvious that it's the ring I gave him when I intended to propose. Sean's reaction is to release me, but I grab hold of his hands.

"Don't." I echo the phrase he'd spoken moments ago.

CHAPTER 16

Sean holds me like that, his arms around my waist, pressed against my back, until the preshow is over and the crowd is pumped for Trystan. Something inside me speaks loudly, telling me to savor these moments, because they'll never come again. I thought I'd lost Sean once, but it didn't feel like this. A premonition races through my body over and over again of loss and pain—crippling grief, yet to come, trying to grab hold of my throat and choke me, but I chase it away. It's just nerves.

The crowd is screaming wildly as the lights go out and smoke fills the stage. Strobes start to flash as the intro to Trystan's latest song begins. It's not the sweet love song he was known for when he began his career. His music has turned dark and edgy, and sharp as a knife. The lyrics are jarring and raw, just the way his fans like them.

Trystan's voice resonates as his half naked body emerges from the smoke. He sings,

and baby, I'll take away your sorrow."

God, he's so not over her. As the thought crosses my mind, my eyes look for her ring, but there's a huge cross around his neck. The ring isn't there, and come to think of it, I've never seen a picture of him wearing it. He keeps that part of his past a secret. I suppose I could have Googled him and looked up who he was with when he was discovered, but that's his life and nothing about it is private. I want him to tell me about her when he's ready and right now he isn't—that day may never come. I realize it, but I still hope he'll tell me, that he trusts me the way I trust him.

My feelings for Trystan are skewed. He's a young Sean to me, a shadow of the man who has his arms around my waist.

Why do I pick such damaged friends?

Like calls to like, soul calls to soul
, echoes in my mind despite the deafening music.

I don't want to leave Sean's side. The pit of my stomach drops like it's the last time he'll hold me and I can't help but feel like it's an omen. I don't belong here. The killer is in the crowd. I don't know how I know, but I know. I try to tell Sean, but it's too late. They're already pushing me onto the stage with the other dancers.

I head for Trystan and pretend he's Sean, young and scared. The man sings his heart out, holding back nothing. No wonder his fans love him so much. I dance provocatively around him until he grabs me, pulling me toward him so our hips mash together. He tips me back and I bend so that my hair dangles on the floor as the band blares behind us. I see Sean in the wing, watching.

When Trystan pulls me up, his blue eyes burn with passion. He means every word he sings and I finally realize how much of a release this is for him, to be on stage like this and bearing his soul. It's his catharsis. His eyebrows flick up when we enter the part of the song where I'm supposed to slide down the front of his body and slip my tongue over his abs. The other dancers would die to be in my spot, but I can't do something so meaningful as if it were nothing.

Trystan smiles at me, like he knows. He changes the act and grabs my wrist, spinning me around and holding me in front of him, locking our bodies together tightly. I face the audience, but I can't look out at the crowd. Jealous women in front of the stage scream insults while others just scream hysterically. Trystan begins singing again, forcing my head to tip to the side. He licks my neck between breaths. The sensation startles me. I spin around, ready to slap him, but he stops me and pushes me away. The crowd eats it up and screams louder. The song is about how he doesn't need me—or her. For a moment, I'm the girl he's singing about and he tosses me away. It's what the girls in the crowd want, because a hurt, unloved Trystan in need of attention, is so much more appealing than a happy married man.

Everyone can see how broken he is, Trystan doesn't try to hide it. It spills over his lips and rolls off his tongue. He's the polar opposite of Sean in that regard.

I continue to dance around him, approaching and then being rebuffed by the rock star. We're close to the edge of the stage when I stop and place my hands on my hips. I plan on giving Trystan a death stare when something catches my eye. There are a million things glinting and glowing, so I don't know why I look to that spot, but I do.

Marty stares back at me and ice licks my spine and fills my stomach with dread. Everyone around him is moving—dancing and screaming—but his stillness is wrong. Something is going to happen. Marty's eyes lock on mine, before drifting to the wing where Sean stands.

I was wrong.

No, no, no! I glance over at Sean and look wide-eyed at him as fear floods through me. They weren't trying to kill me all this time, someone was gunning for Sean, and the killer is standing in the audience unnaturally calm with his hand in his suit pocket and his hair slicked back the way it was earlier today.

The world stops as the realization slams into place. The pilot, Amber, the hookers, and Naked Guy—they were all attempts to kill Sean. I got in the way and the man who orchestrated it is standing in the crowd with his features filled with jealousy and rage.

Four things occur simultaneously—I turn to run off stage and warn Sean, a shot is fired, and Sean runs at me, knocking me to the ground. Even though screaming ensues all around me, the world blurs and I'm deafened to the chaos.

The first sound I hear is my voice and the ear piercing scream coming from my throat. Sean is on top of me, his massive body shielding mine. Trystan is fighting his bodyguards to get to me as they pull him away. He's swearing like he'll kill each of them for dragging him out of there, but they do. Another set of guards surround us as the houselights come on. People are running, trampling each other, trying to get out of the stadium, but I don't look at them. I whimper and wonder why Sean hasn't moved or spoken. He should have carried me away by now, but he's not moved an inch since he knocked me to the stage floor.

My hands must be gripping him so tightly, but I can't stop. The guards pry my fingers off of Sean and there's a medic asking me questions that I don't answer. I can't. He speaks to someone I can't see and they confirm shots were fired. That's when I notice how wet my stomach feels. Warmth spills around me and I finally notice we're laying in a pool of blood. Sean's eyes are locked on mine and blink slowly.

I whisper his name, as terror takes hold of me. When they finally rip us apart, we're both covered in blood. It's everywhere, but I don't feel any pain. I wonder if I've been shot, and run my hands over my bodysuit, but nothing feels wrong. A medic insists that I stay still until they rip the center of the suit off of me and wash away the blood.

Then the medic next to me, the one working on Sean, says into his transmitter, "We need the bus now! Move it to the back of the Garden. Gunshot victim. Thirty year old male, six foot, a buck seventy five. Multiple bullet wounds to the side. He's bleeding out."

I shove past them and get to Sean's head before they can stop me. He looks into my eyes and smiles. It's so wrong, so peaceful, that I can't hold back the sob that bubbles up my throat. "Don't leave me. Sean! Please, please don't leave me!"

He parts his lips to speak, but I can't understand. His eyes flicker closed and the world is shattered with a scream that rips from my body.

THE ARRANGEMENT VOL 16

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COMING SOON

BROKEN PROMISES

Read more about the characters in
the FERRO FAMILY:

BRYAN FERRO

~
THE PROPOSITION
~

*****

SEAN FERRO

~
THE ARRANGEMENT
~

*****

PETER FERRO GRANZ

~
DAMAGED
~

*****

JONATHAN FERRO

~
STRIPPED
~

*****

TRYSTAN SCOTT

~
COLLIDE
~

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H.M. WARD

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