Page 97 of Euphoria

“I’m going to leave that to you,” Francine said and got up. “I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me.”

Morgan watched her leave. “She’s an ex, right?”

“Yes,” Alex answered. “We dated over a year ago, and she ended it.”

“So, why is she back and following you around on tour?”

“Well, that’s something you’d have to ask her. I personally do not care, I have no interest in her, Morgan,” Alex stated concisely.

Morgan grinned. “I’m not worried about that. Like she’d be able to take you from me. I’m a doctor.” She winked. “But seriously, are you not a little concerned about just how weird that is?”

“I guess, yes, but also, I know Laurel and she isn’t—” She hesitated when Morgan’s eyebrow rose. “She wasn’t someone I would say would do anything untoward.”

“Where does she live?”

“London, somewhere near Wimbledon.”

Morgan nodded slowly. “And yet, she’s been in Edinburgh, and now Durham, and for all we know she could have been at every other venue we’ve been to. That’s stalking, isn’t it?”

“What do you want me to do? Francine just explained there’s nothing we can do with the police…” Alex crossed the room and stared out of the window.

“Don’t get rid of Mack and his team, not just yet.”

Alex sighed and rolled her eyes.

“I know it’s not ideal, but Alex, you’ve got an anonymous friend texting you and an ex stalking you…how do you know they’re not the same person?”

Alex turned slowly. That hadn’t been something she had considered.

When Morgan left the room, she made a call.

“Mack.”

“Ms Montgomery, is everything alright?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, all fine but I need you to do something for me, discreetly.”

“Go on.”

“I have a phone number. I’d like to know who’s using it.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

The show in Durham went off without a hitch. Mack and his team had everything under control. Bags were searched, tickets double-checked, and the only people allowed within twenty feet of Alex could be counted on one hand. Laurel didn’t show.

On stage had been a strange sensation for Alex. A feeling of waiting for it, for the threat to come, but it never did. But with every minute she played, the fear dissipated, and the enjoyment returned, and thoughts of Morgan swam into her mind and swirled with the notes she played.

She could see Morgan in the wings, hidden from sight, smiling at her with an encouragement she had lacked in almost every relationship she’d tried to have previously. Women liked to date Alex, because they enjoyed everything else that brought with it, but Morgan was only interested in her. And when it came to the encore, once more Alex played the musical piece she’d written for Morgan, “Euphoria.”

Coming off the stage, she walked with purpose, Mack at her side, Morgan behind along with Francine. They strode quickly down the hall until they came to her dressing room. The man on the door opened it and stepped aside.

Mack went in first, checked for any intruders and then beckoned them in.

“I’ll be outside organising the car. How long do you need?” Mack asked.

Alex glanced at Morgan, her own euphoria pumping through her veins. There was no way she was waiting until they returned to the hotel room. Alex wanted her now.

“Thirty minutes,” she said in answer, turning quickly to Francine. “You can all leave. I just want to decompress for a moment.”

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