Page 92 of Heart of a Rebel

“He’s probably gone.”

“Bus. Now.” So help me, I’m going to shove this man through something if he doesn’t stop fumbling over his words.

I have no doubt he’s going to report this to Nathan, but I honestly don’t give two shits about it, as long as I can get to Eloise.

“Space thirty-two, I think. Maybe thirty-three. Why—”

I’m turning before he can finish his question. I know what spot already because I saw a bus there earlier, a few spots down from Eloise’s. I noticed it was the same model bus as the ones the band members are traveling around in and was surprised another band had splurged on it, given no one else at the festival has the kind of money and fame as that of Enemy Muse. I should have known something was off.

“Why are you looking for Cyrus?” Sebastian is jogging beside me now.

“He has her.”

“Cyrus?” Sebastian chuckles, albeit not amused. “Suit from the label, Cyrus?”

I nod. “Remember the signing party at the club?”

Sebastian’s expression falls, and he picks up his speed. “Fuck.”

I pull out my phone and shoot off a text to security. We’ll get there long before they do, seeing as I can already see the bus up ahead, but I need backup to pull me off the guy if I want to avoid jail time.

Space thirty-three, just like Mark said. The same spot I remembered it in.

I’m out of breath by the time we reach the door, but I don’t need air to live when I have pure hatred coursing through my system. Reaching for the handle, I’m relieved to find it unlocked. The snake didn’t think he’d be caught. Why would he? That fucker.

Stepping onto the bus, Sebastian and I make it to the top of the steps before freezing.

“Adrian.” My name barely makes it past Eloise’s lips with the hand restricting her throat.

She’s in the same floral top and black leather pants she wore on stage, but her makeup is smeared from the tears that streak her cheeks. Cyrus is positioned behind her, like the coward he is, using her as a human shield.

It’s the lowest form of battle, refusing to fight your own fights.

One of his hands is wrapped around the base of Eloise’s throat, while another holds a knife at her artery. He’s at least smart enough to pick a spot that’s deadly, which is as concerning as it is infuriating.

I don’t miss that there’s a faint line of dried blood where her throat meets her chin, knowing he’s already hurt her is enough to make me see red. But unlike earlier when I felt unhinged, I dig deep to restore order within myself because her life isn’t worth the risk of me going off the rails.

Sebastian moves to step forward, but I throw an arm out to stop him when I see Cyrus flinch. Luckily, he takes the hint and stops.

I so badly want to look Eloise in the eyes and offer her any comfort I have. The problem is, I have none right now. Cyrus is unpredictable and has already proved himself dangerous. I’m not willing to break his gaze and face the repercussions.

“You should leave.” His voice is flat and unamused.

“And you should drop the knife.”

The fucker smirks.

“Glad you find that amusing.”

He twists the knife slightly, tightening his grip. “You want to know what I find amusing, Adrian? Your inability to follow orders.”

“And what orders are you referring to right now?” Maybe if I keep him talking, I can get an opening. I might not be breaking his gaze, but it doesn’t stop me from taking in every inch of his surroundings, looking for a way to strike.

“The manager isn’t paid to fuck the talent.” Cyrus narrows his eyes.

So that’s what this is about. Eloise and I going public was the straw that broke the camel’s back. This was never about hurting her; it was abouthavingher.

“We were fine before you.” Cyrus flinches and in return, Eloise does too. “Happy.”

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