Page 5 of Deeper

Her friend snorted. “He’s such a flop.”

While I didn’t mind studio versions of songs, I knew the rush it was to see your favorite singer live. To see them in their element. To hear their live vocals and emotion emit in front of you.

Zander was a rare vocal talent. I had no doubt he’d be good solo versus the backing of his old pop group. If he ever showed up to perform.

Out front the crowd had dispersed all over the sidewalk and security was everywhere. I craned my neck left and right to spot Victoria and I couldn’t find her.

Shit.

Up and down the street vehicles were driving by and fans were crossing the road to get to parking, or into cabs or rideshares.

The sight of a black SUV caused me to pause in my search for Victoria.

The Cullinan.

For a moment, I put Victoria on the backburner as I marched farther up the sidewalk. The man from the stage, who I was assuming was the manager of the venue, was busy trying to calm down the fans before a riot broke out. Security was nearby in case someone attacked the poor guy. It was only a matter of time before the police showed up.

No one noticed me cut around the building. The Cullinan hadn’t kept going up the street; it had turned and driven down the alleyway beside The Warehouse. Tinted windows, driving slowly, arriving at the venue? It had to be that R&B-singing son of a bitch.

In the darkened alley, the pavement was glittery from random shards of broken glass, and a repugnant odor hung in the air from the nearby dumpster. That mixed with the stench of nicotine and weed was a sheer warning to go back. There was a parked car by the side of the building by a side-door exit, but it wasn’t the Cullinan.

Pausing, I looked over my shoulder, seeing people passing by up at the mouth of the alley. There was a great distance from the front to the back, a journey from safety to blatant risk. I could turn back now and just let it go. This was probably areallybad idea, but damn if my soaring temper didn’t drive me ahead.

Fuck Zander Khalil.

Something in my gut told me to keep going, that the side-door exit wasn’t the only one to the building, and that Cullinan wasn’t just a random luxury rider passing through.

A gust of wind sent me going forward, keeping my head held high until I was at the opposite end of the alley rounding the corner.

And just like that, I smirked. The Cullinan was parked behind The Warehouse. At the back of the building there was a set of stairs leading up to the back exit. No one was around, and oddly, back here, the night was quiet with only a faint whisper of the chaos from the people at the front of the building. There were a couple of other cars, probably belonging to the staff, but I just knew that Zander was in the Rolls-Royce.

I wasn’t usually this bold and reckless, but for my best friend—who really was having a tough time—I’d do anything.

I marched over to the vehicle and knocked on the dark tinted window, scowling at it, hoping he could see how pissed I was. The glass was hard against my knuckle and only my reflection greeted me from the surface.

“I know you’re in there!” I snapped. “Show your face, you coward!”

I wanted all the smoke with Zander. He had hurt Victoria, and disappointed so many people tonight. And not to mention, wastedmytime.

After a minute of unanswered knocks on the window, I felt tempted to key the car.Reallytempted.

Whistling blew through the air and I whirled around to find those two scalpers from before.

The skinny one flashed me a grin with a mouth full of dirty teeth. The heavy set one looked on impassively.

It was late. The spotlight from the luminescent floodlight hanging off the side of the building shone down ironically on the scene I was in.

Fear didn’t register; I was too annoyed for the night.

“We got some fine action right here, Brennan,” Skinny spoke first, advancing closer. He was wearing an Iron Maiden T-shirt with some cargo shorts while his friend, Brennan, was in a gray hoodie and black shorts. Neither looked intimidating, even with Skinny crossing over to me.

I backed up against the Cullinan. If Zander was inside,hewas getting one heck of a show.

Skinny came to a stop right in front of me, taking his time to blatantly check me out as his green eyes ran all over me. “You wouldn’t pay for a ticket, but what will you buy?”

Was that a line?

Victoria liked to say I was impulsive and reckless, and had major attitude issues. Needless to say, she was the friendly and bubbly one as she liked to put it, and I was the mean and chill one.

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