Page 108 of Crimson Desires

There was no point in staying for the final shows. Ava had proved that she could manage the merch table in a pinch.

If Jack was anything like my mother (and at this point, I was pretty sure that he was), I knew that he’d drop me as soon as I was no longer useful to him. Maybe that would be at the end of the tour. Maybe we’d stick together for a couple of months until the media found something more interesting to fixate on than asshole ex-pop stars.

Either way, I wasn’t going to set myself up for that kind of disappointment.

I dialed Ava’s number. The phone rang four times before going to voicemail. I took a tempered breath, forcing my voice to be steady as I spoke.

“Hi, Ava. Look, some... extenuating circumstances have come up. I need to go home. This tour has been an amazing experience for me. I’m grateful to you for allowing me to join it, and I’m sorry for any inconvenience that my absence might cause.” I fought down a choked sob. “I don’t want to get into detail about what happened. All I ask is that you keep Jack Maverick the fuck away from me. Okay? Goodbye.”

When I hung up, my hands were shaking.

As I tucked my phone away into my pocket, I realized that I was still wearing the Wicked Crimson hoodie. My shirt was still soaked through, so I reached into my wallet, pulled out sixty bucks, and slapped it on the table before making my way out of the venue.

Once out, I shot off a text to Dave.

Me: Dave, I hate to ask this—but is there any way you could drive me to the nearest airport? Something’s come up, and I need to go home.

Dave: Certainly. Coming now.

***

Dave parked his car outside of the Detroit Metro Airport. He looked at me in the rearview mirror. “It’s a shame to see you go before the end of the tour, Miss Jennings. Of course, I understand that emergencies must be attended to. Would you like me to text Mr. Maverick about your safe arrival?”

“No need. I’ll do it,” I said.

I felt bad for lying to Dave. The loyal security guard was under the impression that Jack had already approved my leave from the tour. Still, I didn’t feel bad enough to tell him the truth.

“Alright. Goodbye, Miss Jennings. Safe travels home.”

“Thanks, Dave.”

I exited his car and walked through the glass doors of the airport without looking back. I’d bought a last-minute ticket during the car ride—a nonstop economy flight that would get me to Boston in no more than three hours.

As I sat at my terminal, I felt a pang of loneliness in my chest. It occurred to me that this was the first time I’d been on my own since I joined the tour over three weeks ago. As I looked around, I saw no crew members. No Ava running like a chicken with its head cut off barking orders at people. No Damien or Kade drinking coffee and working on lyrics. No Axel or Zephyr cracking stupid jokes.

And most noticeable of all—no Jack.

Already, the whirlwind of Wicked Crimson’s tour was starting to feel like an old memory.

I wrapped my arms tightly around my chest and closed my eyes. I imagined that they were Jack’s arms instead.

I hated myself for missing him.

But this was the cost of falling in love. This was the fate I’d doomed myself to. Like a fucking idiot, I’d known the signs, and I’d chosen to ignore them. And in doing so, I added myself to the long list of women who had been stung by their own reckless love.

There was no such thing as selflessness.

There was only Juliet’s suicide, Dido’s madness, and my heartbreak.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Jack

Ava watched us like a hawk during our interview with the hosts from 107.9, The Wish.

She had called in a favor to arrange a media hit with the radio station. The interview wasn’t especially intense. Axel, Damien, and I performed a stripped-back acoustic rendition of After Aster, and then we chatted for about fifteen minutes with the hosts.

Thankfully, the hosts at The Wish were much more friendly and respectful than Kaleidoscope Radio’s interviewer had been.

---