My lips flattened, refusing to let her engage me in any sort of intimate talk. Next to me, Viv’s face showed repugnance over the nerve of the woman.

“He’d take me to all their shows, and I’d suck him off in whatever spare room was available. It’s the little things, you know?”

Viv’s jaw dropped. “Who the fuck are you?”

Brigid gave her a wide-eyed, innocent look. “Hi! Ha-ha! I’m Brigid. I’m, um…friends with Phil.”

“I’m sure you are,” sneered Viv. “As Phil’s, um, friend, you must know that this is his fiancée, Kenna.”

Brigid turned startled eyes back to me. “Really? Where’s your ring? Phil wouldn’t ask without a ring.”

Slowly, I turned my face to her. Feeling the force of my fury, Brigid tentatively retreated a step, finally looking concerned for her welfare. I opened my mouth, about to tell her to shove her knowledge of Phil where the sun didn’t shine, when we heard Sheri shriek in outrage.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

As it was between songs—and worse, the current bit was an instrumental jam—Phil had also heard Sheri and looked over to see us. His eyes widened, and he walked off the stage toward us.

“I have a fucking pass! I’m allowed to be here!”

Sheri tossed her clipboard to the floor and charged toward Brigid, tackling the lesser girl to the ground.

“Damn!” gasped Viv.

Sheri started beating on Brigid—as in, closed fists pummeling. Screeching and screaming ensued. Brigid was clearly getting her ass handed to her, and I knew I would have to step in and do something before Wonder Sheri killed the bitch. Jumping off the crate, I grabbed Sheri around her middle and pulled her off Brigid, who had curled up into the fetal position, arms covering her head. Sheri was still determined to do more damage, and Viv joined in with the restraining party, wrapping her arms around Sheri from the front. I noticed a clump of long blonde hair clasped in Sheri’s fist.

Phil stormed over. “What the fuck?”

“Tell security to get that fucking bitch out of here!” screamed Sheri.

Phil looked down at Brigid and then back at us with the meanest, most furious look on his face. “Why? Look at her! She’s no match for any of you!”

“Get her out! Now!” Sheri roared.

Bending down, Phil scooped Brigid up into his arms, holding her to his chest, as he went to…I didn’t know. Find someone to take care of her, I supposed. She buried her face in his neck but not before shooting us an evil glance, letting us know she’d gotten exactly what she’d wanted.

Sheri fought to get free. “Oh, hells fuck no!”

“Sheri! Just calm down! You’re playing right into her hands!” shouted Viv.

“That fucking bitch!” she raged.

It took a few minutes before the tension left Sheri.

“You good?” I asked, easing up on my hold.

“I ran into her today, and she told me she was coming to collect from Phil, that he owed her two inches.”

“Two inches?” Viv repeated, perplexed.

Sheri gave me a knowing look, and yeah, I fucking got it.

Sheri was setting herself to rights and picking up her clipboard when Phil came storming back up. The jam was about halfway through at this point, so he had maybe four minutes before heading back on stage.

“That was fuckin’ uncalled for!” he shouted at Sheri.

“Trust me, Phil. It was completely called for,” snapped Vivian, giving him a black look. “She had no business being here, and the shit she was saying to—” She caught my eye and stopped speaking.

“What?” snapped Phil.

“Nothing. But that woman had it coming,” was all Viv said before plopping her ass back down.

Sheri totally ignored him, spun on her heel, and headed in the opposite direction, so that left only me.

“What was that all about?” Phil asked me, his eyes still fueled with anger. “How could you let that happen?”

That was fucking it. “Fuck you! Let that happen? What am I? Fucking psychic now? It’s not my fault that the skanks you’ve banged have the personalities of a dishrag dipped in poison. I pulled Sheri off before she did some serious damage—”

“You’re back on, Phil,” Sheri called out.

I turned back toward the crates, and he gently grabbed my arm, but I could shake him off, if I wanted to. Instead, I turned back to him.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Piss off, Phil.”

Shooting me one last look, he headed back on stage.

Grabbing my bag, I headed for the exit. I didn’t need that sort of blame. It wasn’t up to me to control his fucking road manager.

As if I could! How dare he? Ugh!

Once out back, I made my way toward the buses, running into Devon along the way.

“Kenna? What happened? I just got a call—”

“Sheri fucking jumped your Super Slut. Word to the wise, keep that bitch away from me and my friends because I refuse to be held accountable for the condition she’ll fucking end up in!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said softly, putting a consoling hand on my shoulder. “What did she do?”

I was shaking, close to hysterics, and it showed. Sucking in my cheeks, I bit down hard, hoping the pain would give me a sense of control over myself. Closing my eyes, all I could see was Phil shooting me the stink eye before scooping Brigid up into his arms.

I clapped my hands over my face. I didn’t want Devon to see me lose it. My whole body convulsed with the effort it took for me to hold in my sobs. It was useless. The moment he drew me into his arms, I broke down.

“Shh,” he whispered. “It’s going to be okay, Kenna.”

He smelled really nice. Freshly showered, his scent was light and manly. It reminded me of Connor. As my episode ebbed, Devon pulled back, helping to thumb off a few tears.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“Not particularly. But I will tell you that you have deplorable taste in women.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he said with a self-deprecating grin. “But it’s not like I’m looking for love or anything.”

“That’s too bad.” I gave him a watery chuckle. “You could use some, I think.”

His smile turned sweet, and he leaned forward…and kissed my brow. “Try to have a better evening,” he said softly.

I nodded. “You, too.”

Mack was sitting outside the bus, eating a chicken salad sandwich.

“Hey, Pretty Hot ’n’ Temptin’,” he said as I approached.

That was his nickname for me. It drove Phil bonkers.

“Hey, Mack. Did you sleep well?”

He nodded, munching and swallowing. “You make this sandwich?”

I smiled. “Just for you.”

“I knew it! You’re crushin’ on me, ain’t ya?”

“Yeah, but don’t tell Phil,” I joked.

“Hell no. He’d fire my ass right quick if he thought I stood a chance of takin’ his Baby Girl.”

Laughing, I told him, “Well, I’m going to hit the shower.”

“Oh, I don’t know if you know, but Phil packed up your clothes and put ’em in that foxhole of yours.”

Crushing weight squeezed my chest in a viselike grip. All I could manage was a nod.

The lock had been fixed on the sliding panel, too. Tears pouring down my face, I slid it open, looking for my overnight bag. It was tucked into the cupboard. I also found the bunk had been nicely made with a single white lotus blossom sitting on a fat green leaf in the middle of my pillow.

“Oh…” I breathed, reaching for the perfect blossom.

Beneath it was an envelope addressed to My Other Half. With shaking fingers, I flipped it open and pulled out the note. For a dude, Phil had some seriously beautiful handwriting.

My Other Half.

You complete me in ways I did not foresee.

Never have I known you’d create the breath in me,

That you would be the Light that guides

Or the Voice of Reason in my mind.