Page 29 of Not the Punk

The door on the other side opened, and someone slid in.

I was face to face with Trent for the first time in several years, and I didn’t like it.

My heart skipped a beat at the surprise, and then it started racing. I could only think of Colten’s words about what Trent could do to me if he lost his shit. He shouldn’t have been anywhere near us.

There were no bodyguards around, only the driver and Colten behind me. I didn’t know how this was going to go down, but I started backing out of the car and bumped right into Colten.

“Hey, what’s going on, Joe?” He put his hand on my waist.

Trent grabbed my wrists and jerked, pulling me toward him. I panicked and screamed. Colten leaned over my back and hugged my waist tighter. He wasn’t going to let me go, and I knew it. When he had me nearly out of the car and out of Trent’s hands, Colten leaned in and punched at him, but it barely connected since it was thrown at a bad angle. He probably would have taken another swipe, but things all happened too quickly. Apparently, the driver noticed what was going on and called someone. In a heartbeat, Alden rushed up to the other side of the car and hauled Trent out. Brax showed up right after, helping him get Trent away from the car.

The moment they were gone, Colten pulled me into his arms. “You’re shaking, baby. I’ve got you. He’s gone.”

“That was Trent. It was him.”

“Thought so. Come on. Let’s get in the car and get out of here.”

I was shook up, but I had Colten to hold on to, and that made it better. We collected our keycard from Marci near the front desk and headed up. The crew had delivered our bags earlier in the day, so we’d have everything we needed. Colten opened the door and turned on the lights before ushering me in.

I looked around, noting things that weren’t ours strewn around. “Something’s wrong. Is that your shirt?”

“Huh?” Colten picked up the shirt and made a terrible face. “Ugh. No. This thing stinks.”

“Look at the bed.”

The bedding was messed up, and it looked like someone had been sleeping in it. “What the hell?” Colten leaned over it. “Smells like spunk.” He flipped over the top cover, and there was a spot that looked like someone had ejaculated there.

“Shit. Are we in the wrong room?”

“That’s my bag. And yours.” He pointed them out where they’d been stashed beside the dresser. “And your guitar.”

“What the hell?” I went into the bathroom, flipped on the light, and froze.

There were hearts drawn on the mirror in my eyeliner, which was sitting on the counter beside my toiletries.

“Damn it,” Colten yelled, and I dashed back out.

“What now?”

He held up a card and shook it. “Left by the bed. It says thanks for the fuck – see you after the show.”

I stood there staring at it, then snatched it out of his hand. “This is Trent’s handwriting.”

“Mother fucker. That son-of-a-bitch. I’ll fucking kill him.”

I was on the verge of tears. This couldn’t be happening. “This is a setup. Can’t you see that?”

“Oh, I see it. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad that he had this kind of access.” He took my face in his hands, palms on my cheeks. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He kissed my forehead, then my lips. “I don’t want that psycho anywhere near you.”

“Let’s go sleep on the bus.”

“Okay.”

We went down to the parking level and found the buses. I unlocked the door and opened it. We always had a spare key in case we needed something left on the bus. The vehicles became our home away from home, and we didn’t always bring everything into the hotels with us, mostly just essentials.

Colten got on and I followed him. “Damn it. Joe, look.”

A bunch of stuff was in the bunk like someone else lived there. Fucking Trent. How the hell did some IT Cybersecurity dude manage to get around all this? I knew he did networking and testing to make sure networks were secure, but did that give him the skills he needed to outwit professional physical security?