Page 9 of Not Another Rockstar
“You aren’t going anywhere until we’ve talked.” Cillian looked past her, sneering at Axel as though this was all his fault.
They both ignored him.
“Let me call you a taxi,” Axel offered, but Phoebe didn’t want to stay a moment longer in Cillian’s company.
“She’s my girlfriend, stop with the Prince Charming act,” Cillian barked.
Axel chuckled, not helping the situation. Phoebe stared at them, feeling like she’d missed the joke.
“I’m not your girlfriend, and stop acting like this is his fault.” She grabbed her bag, sick of his temper tantrum. “Axel helped me while you were sobering up with your other girlfriend.”
She was out the tour bus before either of them could stop her. She heard raised voices behind her, but didn’t dare look back.
Walking through the empty parking lot, she wished she’d never come to Munich.Twenty-four hours ago,she thought,I had a sell-out exhibition, I quit my day job and was engaged to the love of my life. Now, I’m trying to escape my cheating ex with a lump in my throat the size of Ireland and I wish I hadn’t worn these damn heels.
Her sadness was replaced with irritation when she reached the booth by the security gate, and the guard looked her over like she was a groupie doing the walk of shame.
“Can you open the gate? I want to leave,” Phoebe asked politely.
“Just need you to sign out beside where you signed in.” He pushed a clipboard with a list of names through the gap in the protective window.
“I didn’t sign in,” she said. She could sign out beside someone else’s name, but if he checked her ID it’d look suspicious.
The guard’s eyes narrowed, and he took back the clipboard. “How did you get into the venue?”
A gargled voice came through the radio on his shoulder. She waited impatiently as he finished replying in German.
“My brother is in the band,” she said, “but I didn’t come in with them. Does it really matter? Please let me out.”
She immediately regretted her tone when he radioed in German so she couldn’t understand.Last night she couldn’t get in, and now they didn’t want to let her out.
Can I please get back to my hotel without another argument?
A car horn made her jump.
“Get in the car!” Cillian called out through the car window.
Phoebe ignored him and waited for the guard to open the gate. Instead, he sealed the window to his booth, leaving them to it.
“They aren’t going to let you out without my permission,” Cillian said.
So that’s what the urgent radio message was,she realised, turning to face him.A black Porsche? That’s new.
“I don’t want to be in the same country as you, let alone the same car.” She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to compose herself.
“Get in the car, you’ll be mobbed by fans out there.”
Where had this sudden concern come from? He’d just been on a rampage about her sleeping with one of his best friends. The dark circles under his bloodshot eyes confessed how hungover he was, so it made sense he wasn’t thinking rationally.
“Why do you care what your fans do to me? You’ve hurt me far more than they ever could. Holding me here against my will isn’t going to make me forgive you. Why don’t you go have breakfast with that woman—her name’s Helen, right? Show her the sights, and I’m sure soon you’ll forget we ever existed. In fact, why don’t you give her this?” Phoebe threw her engagement ring through the window, hoping the diamond would do some damage to his smug face.
The booth window reopened. “Is this woman a threat to you?” the guard asked sternly.
“No. My fiancée has a stubborn streak.” Cillian’s smug smile made her want to scream.
If looks could kill, Cillian would have disintegrated.
“I’m not your fiancée, or your girlfriend. I don’t even know you.” She turned to the security guard. “This man is bothering me, please open the gate.”
