Page 38 of Real Rocks
“Let’s go.” I held my head high and stalked out of the club without another word to anyone.
Once outside, the fresh air hit me, and I just made it to a nearby doorway when the contents of my stomach reappeared. Darren stroked my back as I retched, making soothing noises.
As I straightened up and wiped my mouth, I noticed there were a few people milling around outside, smoking or waiting for taxis. Some of them nudged each other and gestured in our direction, whispering. Darren tried to shield me from their prying eyes.
The last thing I wanted was people gossiping about me, again.
I turned to Darren. “I want to go to the police station. I want to see Tris.”
He looked nervously between me, Barney and Tommo. “Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean, won’t Carl be there too?”
“They’ll need to speak to me about what happened though, won’t they?”
“I guess. But won’t they contact you when they need to?”
I didn’t know. I didn’t know how any of this worked. All I knew was my boyfriend had been arrested and I wanted to see him.
“Why don’t we go back to your hotel?”
“No.” I didn’t want to go back to the place where Tris and I had had fantastic make-up sex without him.
Darren sighed. “Okay, come back to ours then.”
There seemed little point in arguing. None of us knew what was going to happen next or when.
I shrugged. Sitting around some budget chain hotel had to be better than standing in the middle of the street. When we got there, I let Barney and Tommo off the hook, telling them to go to bed and get some rest.
“Do you want a drink?” Darren asked while we waited for the lift.
I glared at him, my eyes wide. “Are you kidding? My boyfriend has just been arrested!”
He lifted a shoulder. “Thought you might need to, you know, treat the shock?”
Maybe he had a point. A small whisky or two might do the trick.
Ten minutes later we were in his room.
I kicked off my shoes and plonked myself in the middle of the bed, while Darren poured my drink. I reached into my bag for my phone. No messages. No missed calls. Nothing. Not even from Jonas.
Jonas.
He’d know what to do. He’d be able to help.
Not wanting to waste another moment, I dialled his number.
“Saff? What time is it?”
“Did I wake you?” My voice cracked as the tears began again.
“Are you okay?”
Hearing Jonas’ concern made me cry harder. “Tris has been arrested.” I managed to get the words out before I started sobbing.
It sounded like Jonas covered the mouthpiece and was talking to someone first before he came back to me.
“You’ve got my full attention now. Tell me what happened.”
Between fresh bouts of crying, the whole story came out, including how Carl had been blackmailing me, making threats and demands, culminating in him coming to the gig. I downplayed the extent of the fight, making it sound less than it was. I didn’t want Jonas to think Tris was a lost cause, better off in jail, before I’d told him everything.
