Guess that email upset me more than I thought. Sighing, I run my hand through my hair. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Kathy just stares at me until I roll my eyes. “Just police stuff,” I tell her, and a knowing expression crosses her face as she nods. I trust Kathy, but there are too many people around us. When the guys are finished later, I’ll tell them all about it, but for now, while there are other people listening, that’s all I’ll say.
Happy that everything is okay in the sound booth, I smile at a couple of the crew members as I walk past, not really taking in faces as I make my way backstage. A familiar song comes on, and I smile, knowing the guys will be on for one of their big group performances. It’s a real crowd-pleaser. Seeing as everything is running smoothly, I might even go watch from the wings…
My phone vibrates with a message as I’m walking through the dark backstage, so I fish it from my pocket.
Unknown number.
Dread fills me. I don’t want to look. I’ve almost fallen into a false sense of security over the last week. All has been quiet. We’ve had some great shows, and I’ve had some amazing evenings with the guys. Why now? What have I done to trigger a message now? My finger hovers over the phone screen, and although I don’t want to, I know I have to see it.
Unknown number: Call off the police.
The message is short and not like the usual messages I receive demanding I leave the guys alone or quit my job. I’ve ruffled their feathers. Realisation hits me. I’ve not heard anything from the stalker in over a week, and then I mentioned communication with the police to Kathy. Almost immediately, I received a message. The stalker must have been listening in. I desperately try to remember who had been there, which crew members had been around at the time, but panic blinds my rational thought. My phone vibrates again, and I look down, my heart thudding painfully in my chest.
Unknown number: If you don’t, you will force my hand again.
Unknown number: Who will it be next time?
The messages come through quickly, one after the other, as I stare at the screen. The words make me feel sick, and at the bottom of the last message, I see there’s an attachment. I shouldn’t click it, I know I shouldn’t, it could be tracking software or a virus, but I can’t seem to stop myself. Clicking the link, I realise it’s a video. It seems to be security footage, a camera situated in the corner of a corridor pointed towards an office door.
Shit, I recognise that corridor.
I’m going to be sick.
This is footage from the security cameras at our old rehearsal space. It’s a clear video, and I’m able to make out every tiny detail. My brain screams for me to close it, to stop watching, but I can’t. Like watching a car crash happen, I stare in horror as a figure appears on the screen, crying out when I see Mark’s familiar face.
He hurries towards the office I used to work in. There is no sound to the video, but I can see him calling out. It doesn’t take a genius to work out he’s calling my name. His lips move frantically as he looks around for me. I know what’s going to happen. I don’t want to watch. But I can’t stop myself. My heart cracks at seeing him again, at seeing the worry across every line of his face as he searches for me. It switches to the camera pointed at my office door, and for a second, my eyes close as a tear squeezes out and rolls down my cheek.
Please, no. I cry, even as I know what’s to come.
On screen, Mark opens the wooden door. He peers inside the office, looking for me, and pauses before slowly walking inside. The door slowly swings shut behind him. For a couple of seconds, nothing happens, and my heart skips a beat with each passing one. Suddenly, a bright light fills the screen. It’s so brilliant, I have to shield my eyes, and then the cameras cut out… and there’s nothing but darkness.
The explosion… He’s gone.
A maniacal laugh erupts from the phone speaker, and I throw it away with a scream.
Tears drip from my burning eyes, the image of him entering that office branded into my mind forever. A high, keening sound rips from me as I fall to my knees, my heart breaking all over again. I can’t breathe, sobs racking my body. I knew it was coming, yet watching it was ten times worse.
And seeing him again? Seeing him alive… Fuck. It shreds me apart until I just curl into a ball, sobbing, with my arms wrapped around myself, trying to hold every broken piece of me together.
I hear people calling my name, and at some point, I’m pulled into someone’s lap, but I can’t see. I can barely breathe. I hear questions, voices, but it’s like I’m miles away, trapped in an endless loop, watching that video in my head. I know someone has picked up my phone when I hear curses and cries from the people surrounding me, and that’s what breaks through my grief.
Opening my eyes, I notice I’m surrounded by the guys, my family. Their expressions are a mixture of anger and devastation. Some of them openly have tears rolling down their faces, so I know they’ve seen the video too. Pushing up from the floor, my body stiff from being in one position for so long, I wipe my eyes and push away my grief, even though it’s threatening to overwhelm me.
My guys need me. I may be broken, but I won’t let this fucking bastard take anyone else away from me. Whoever this stalker is, they’re good with computers, but they’re making mistakes. They’re panicking. The police couldn’t access this footage before, since it had been wiped, but now I have it, and I’ll take it to them.
I’m done playing. There’s a snake in my home, and we’re going to catch it.
The next two shows are back-to-back, and I barely have time to think. I, of course, have to speak to the police again, and they actually confiscate my phone, so I buy myself another.
After transferring all my emails and work contacts over, I return to being a manager and put the stalker to the back of my mind…for now at least—until Thursday night. After the show, when we have a few hours before the bus leaves for the next destination, I have a plan, but we can’t talk about it here. Too many ears, too many eyes. I don’t know who we can trust. No, we need to go somewhere with just the guys, Kathy, and me, and decide what we’re doing about this stalker once and for all.
The police aren’t catching him fast enough, and I refuse to let my guys or me be his next victim. It’s time we stopped him. So when the guys climb off stage, I send them to get dressed and nod at Kathy. We quickly tie up all loose ends and leave the crew to tidy up as we head out for dinner.
The guys don’t ask, and I don’t tell as we pull up at a little restaurant not too far from the venue. We keep our heads down and remain quiet as we’re seated. I make sure to ask for the table at the back away from people, so we have privacy and can see everyone coming and going. Once there, I relax, slumping in my chair a little as Liam reaches over and plays with the ends of my hair as he reads the menu. His casual touch helps to calm me, settling something in my stomach as I give him a tentative smile.
“What’s with all the cloak and dagger, Baby Girl?” Blake asks, but he keeps his voice low. He may not know why he’s doing it, but he’s going along with it anyway for my sake. They all are, and that makes me love them that little bit more.
“Just trying to make sure we aren’t followed.” I shrug, playing with the peeling edge of the menu. “Can never be too sure.”