“Please let me talk to Logan,” she pleaded. “The world won’t end if I lose this job, but if I lose him—” Her voice cracked and all the tension and anxiety, the hurt and humiliation, the fear and devastation streaked down her cheeks in a torrent of tears. She didn’t even care that everyone was staring at her complete meltdown.
“Keep an eye on her,” Butch said to the guard again, and then he whirled around and strode back toward the arena.
She tried to climb over the barrier, but the guard proved worthy of his title.
“Come on, lady, be smart about this. Do you want to go to jail?”
She honestly didn’t care if she went to jail, but if she ended up behind bars, she wouldn’t get to talk to Logan. She called his phone and left a short message. She knew he didn’t have his phone on him since she’d found it between the sofa cushions when she’d been packing her belongings, but she couldn’t just stand there idly and not try to contact him. He was probably still onstage having the time of his life, wondering where she’d gone. Or maybe his band had already informed him that she’d supposedly done exactly what she’d promised she’d never do. She prayed he’d give her a chance to explain and not simply take their word for what had happened.
And what had happened? Someone had obviously gotten hold of her journal, but who? Had a hotel maid taken it from her bag? Had she dropped it and a stranger picked it up? Had Susan stolen it during her presentation?
“Susan,” Toni said, her eyes narrowing. Her editor had wanted dirt on the band members. And boy, had she gotten it. Feeling defeated, Toni rubbed her forehead to try to ease the pounding in her skull. “How could I have been so stupid?”
She hadn’t personally released the information to the tabloids, but she was responsible for someone gaining access to it. She hadn’t protected those she cared about. If she hadn’t written those things down in the first place . . . If she’d been more careful with her journal . . . If she’d just stuck to the prescribed interview questions . . . If she didn’t trust people so easily. If, if, if.
She leaned against a rough stone wall and waited not so patiently for the band to come out after the show. The guard seemed to realize she’d been defeated, so he wasn’t watching her closely as he flirted with a pretty blonde trying to get in to see the bands. Toni hoped to use his lack of attention to her advantage when an opening presented itself.
It seemed to take an eternity for the band to emerge from the back exit. They were uncommonly grim as they strode toward the waiting bus. Reagan, especially, looked pale and forlorn. Logan brought up the rear, walking several paces behind the rest of them with his head down, as if he was the one who’d betrayed them. She wondered if they’d yelled at him because of what she’d supposedly done.
The security guard was too busy gawking at rock stars to notice Toni shift from the wall to the barrier fence. Abandoning her gear and luggage, she hiked up her skirt and climbed the cool metal railing. She dashed toward the bus. Logan drew to a halt as Toni streaked toward him. He turned in her direction. The look of betrayal on his handsome face made her stumble, but no, she couldn’t fall. Not now. She had to reach him. Had to explain. Oh God, don’t look at me like that, Logan. She feared he wouldn’t listen to her or believe her even if she did plead her case.
An arm around her midsection stopped her abruptly, and her feet came off the ground as she was pulled against a large hard body from behind. She struggled, kicking her feet and shoving down on the arm around her waist with both of her hands.
“Let me go!” she demanded.
“Not a chance,” the guard said. He grunted when her heel connected with his shin.
“Logan!” She struggled harder. “Logan, you have to listen to me. I didn’t do it. I swear.”