Page 41 of Under the Ink

It didn’t matter. Andy hadn’t followed her here. Yet. And although she was irritated that she’d dropped her water in the kitchen, she wouldn’t be returning to fetch it. After remaining frozen for what felt like forever, she jumped in the bathroom and locked the door.

Then she listened.

After several long seconds, it felt like the bus was slowing down. It wasn’t until it completely stopped that she knew for certain. Had they already arrived at the next venue? But, no, that wasn’t possible. They weren’t due there till later in the morning, when the sun was up.

Maybe they were having mechanical problems.

She didn’t care.

Peeking her head out of the bathroom, she made sure the coast was clear. When she was sure, she rifled through her bag on the shelf next to the bunk, digging around until she found her pepper spray.

Finally, she climbed back in her bunk and pulled the curtain shut.

But sleep was elusive.

After a bit, she imagined that she heard voices outside the bus—but there was no way to know for certain. After a while, the bus started moving again. Maybe it had been a fuel stop. Resting her head on her pillow, she tried hard to relax, but her muscles held their tension. It wasn’t until sometime after five AM that she drifted off to sleep.

And she slept long enough to remember.

“How does that feel?”

Sluggish. Hard to move. Barely able to hear or feel or…

Oh, no. Nooooo. Ripping, shredding. Pain. Sharp, deep pain. “That hurts. Stop. Get off me.”

“Just one more second, angel. I’m almost there.”

Naomi jumped up, hitting her head on the ceiling of the bunk, feeling way too tired and thinking only one thing.

Fuck this job.

HARTFORD, CONNECTICUT

JUNE 16

The bus arrived at the next tour stop earlier than they usually did, so Naomi stayed in her bunk a bit until it sounded like most people had exited.

She hadn’t heard Andy, but she was ready for him. Although she was tired and on edge, she was also on the defensive.

Ready to fight.

But she got out of her bunk, went to the restroom to clean up and change clothes, and then left the bus. They weren’t going to be checking out the venue till early afternoon, so she had some time to check out this city for its potential.

Anything to get away from here for now.

Before she could go anywhere, though, the bus driver said, “You got a minute?”

Turning, she assessed him for his threat potential. The guy was older, probably nearing retirement age—although what did she know? He was also overweight and seemed to move slowly, so she felt like, even though he might be stronger than she was, she was positive she was quicker. Standing not too close, she said, “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Umm…”

“And I wanted to apologize. I didn’t know what was goin’ on last night until you were gone—so I pulled the bus over and had a little talk with our friend.”

“Friend?”

“Andy. Was he being aggressive with you? Or did I misunderstand something? Am I overstepping my bounds?”

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