Page 15 of Harper's Song

Snake inhales sharply, and I might’ve just overplayed my hand. But the flame that’s been my need to be with Harper ever since I saw her yesterday is now a raging inferno, or more like a ticking time bomb since these nasty assholes want to hurt her. And she won’t be hard for them to track down, with or without my help. Her tour schedule is plastered all over the internet for one thing. Scar probably sent men to protect her, but what can they do in the crowds of the festivals and such she’ll be performing at?

“I have a plan for getting out,” I hear myself say. “It involves Gene and the laundry truck, but we need your help. Get me out and I’ll deliver the Devils to you on a platter.”

“Gene? That little sniveling rat?” Snake says.

“He can get the laundry truck in here earlier. All you have to do is make sure it’s got your guys driving it,” I say. “A false floor with a compartment big enough to hold a couple of guys besides me and Gene would do the trick.”

That’s the sum total of how far my morning plans of escaping got me.

“What’s with you and this Gene guy?” another Renegade asks, spittle flying from his toothless mouth. “You sweet on him or something?”

I ignore him as I glare at Snake. “It’s a good plan, I know you know that. And as soon as I’m out, I’ll deliver Harper right to this old friend of yours. It won’t be a problem getting her to meet me. And when she comes, she’s all yours. And then the rest of the Devils are next. Do we have a deal?”

He just glares at me in silence and I’m starting to see how he got his name—his upturned, ice-cold green eyes and flat nose do make him look exactly like a snake.

“What’s going on here?” a guard yells from over by the door. “Break up your little party! Now!”

“We’ll talk more,” Snake assures me then starts dispersing with the others.

Six guards are hovering near the door, watching them do as they were told, and I see Gene in the shadows just inside the door. He’s the one who made this happen, I’m sure, and I don’t appreciate it as much as he probably thinks I do.

I’d much prefer to get an answer from Snake right now. At least that would’ve made this avalanche of worry for Harper, which is threatening to suffocate me worse and worse with each passing second, easier to withstand.

And I can’t even warn her now because the Renegades will be watching my every move while they consider my suggestion. I doubt I’ll be able to so much as scratch my ass without them knowing it before we speak again.

I light another cigarette and lean back against the wall behind me trying not to look like I can hardly breathe.

Harper

The energy of the crowd gathered in the darkness around me is electrifying. I’m performing on the big stage of the Summer Love Festival on the outskirts of Seattle, the biggest show I’ve ever done, headlining for one of the biggest acts currently out there—Pixie Rage. It’s the happiest I’ve been in months. The fact that I still notice the difference, that my mind is still pulled towards the darkness and sadness is a sign I’m still stuck in it, but also that it’s getting better.

I’m good now, but the initial stage fright almost made me pass out before I could climb the five wooden steps onto the open-air stage.

“This is where you’re meant to be,” Hunter told me, seeing my distress. That was enough to get my jelly-soft legs up the stairs.

And as soon as I took my place in the center of it, I knew he was right.

Twilight hadn’t quite given way to night when I started my set, the lights washing over me and the crowd in hues of purple and pink, looking like the last echoes of the sunset. It’s full night now and I’m one with the music, one with the notes given off by my guitar as my voice sends the song into the swaying, singing crowd. So many know the words of these songs—my words—at least the ones in the front rows and that just adds another level to the perfection that is this moment.

Hunter’s there in the front row too, just like always and that’s perfect too. He’s leaving tomorrow though, heading to the reservation and I’ll miss him. I miss Jax too. I always will. I know that now. But I also know I’ll eventually get over that. Or at least survive it. There’s no need to scrap my old songs. They came to be in a moment in time, a season of love and bliss that is now over. But they’ll always remind me of what was and that’s a good thing. The future is where I’m heading now. The past is behind me. That’s how life works.

I’ve overstayed my allotted time on stage with the blessing of the organizers and Pixie Rage, but Nancy, the main administrator is now waving at me to wrap it up. Behind her, the band is already fidgeting, ready to get on stage.

I wrap up the song I was singing and raise my guitar high before taking a bow to the raging applause and shouts for more.

I’m not fake modest, I know my music touches people, and I am so grateful for that, so grateful for all these people making it possible to live my dream, so grateful for this night.

And I tell the crowd all that, but then my voice catches in my throat as I’m thanking them all for coming and I barely get the sentence out.

That bearded man is there again, right at the edge of the first row, standing completely still, not clapping, just smiling at me. The light doesn’t touch him. It’s as though a permanent cloud of darkness follows him around always.

I turn away from him, wave one more time and stride off stage, wondering if I should tell Hunter that the guy from that bar is here again tonight. But that would just make him stay and try to do something about it. He’s not a hundred percent healed yet and the last thing I want is for him to get hurt again.

No, stalkers are a part of the life I crave. I have my gun, I know how to use it, and it’ll take more than an old man to make me run back to the protection of my family. My father wouldn’t be scared, he’d handle it, and so will I.

“Let’s talk later,” Manny, the singer of Pixie Rage—a tall, thin guy with a very handsome face, but otherwise covered in tattoos—tells me as we pass each other by the stage. “I’m thinking a collab,” he adds and then jogs up to the stage to the roaring of the crowd.

I just breathlessly nodded, because that offer is something I haven’t even dared dream I’d get. I’m downright dizzy as I meet Hunter by the fence separating the open-air backstage area from the crowd.

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