But Graham doesn’t ignore me. He squeezes my hand, and I look back at him.
And I don’t feel afraid.
Slowly the plane gains more air and levels off a bit, still climbing, but not so steeply. I pull my hand away from him and stare out the window again.
“I’m fine,” I say, but this time a little less angrily.
“I know,” he says, gentle and kind. It surprises me, but I’m not about to show it.
Is this what happens when you live your life in a war zone? Maybe this is why he was a marine for so long. Any man with the ability to calm someone down like that has to be really useful in a war. I bet he was a leader, had his own group of soldiers, and I bet they loved him. I bet he could keep everyone together when the shit got bad just by telling them he wouldn’t let them get hurt. And I bet they believed him, just like I believed him.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I reach into my bag and pull some headphones out. I put them over my ears and turn on some music, drowning out the sound of the plane, refusing to look at Graham.
I can’t let myself start to soften toward him. I know what he’s thinking every time he looks at me, and I can’t let myself think the same thing.
I don’t care if he can make me believe anything. I’m not about to give myself away, not for anything.4GrahamKatie spends the long-ass flight ignoring me, and that works just fine. I get some sleep, watch a movie, eat some stupidly good food, and kill time.
I’m damn good at killing time. Any real marine is a killer of time first, a killer of men second. Waiting is so much a part of war that sometimes it feels like that’s the real battle.
Anyway, the plane touches down. Katie freaks again but I’m not sitting close enough to try and keep her calm. Whatever, fine by me if she doesn’t want my help.
We head into the city and check into this expensive, absurd hotel. Katie has this fancy suite at the end of the hall and my room’s right next door, smaller, but still the nicest damn room I’ve ever stayed in.
“How’s it going?” Norah asks me later after we’re all checked in and getting ready to hit the venue.
“Not bad,” I admit. “Your girl hates me.”
“Does that surprise you at all?”
“Guess not.”
She grins. I’ve known Norah for a long time. She’s always been the little baby of our family, but look at her now, running this show like a general. Gotta admit, she’s a smart one, smarter than me.
“Look, just be nice to her, okay? Try and act like she doesn’t exist.”
“Not sure how I’m supposed to do both,” I grumble.
“Figure it out.”
I grunt at her and she laughs.
The whole mess of people staying in the hotel takes this bus thing out to the venue. It’s a big-ass stadium, the sort of venue rock stars play, but I guess pop stars are the rock stars these days, so that makes sense. We head in through the back, and there are already fans screaming and paparazzi taking pictures, and I do my best to stare down the motherfuckers. Maybe it works, since nobody gets too close to Katie.
I keep stealing glances at my girl, waiting for her to smile and look happy, but it just isn’t happening. It’s like doing this tour isn’t what she wants or some shit like that. I mean, she’s rich and famous and desired, I can’t imagine she wouldn’t want to strut around in front of her screaming fans, soak in all that adoration and shit. But it’s early on, maybe she just needs to warm up.
We head into the green room, which is just this big fancy room with couches and mirrors and shit. There are already people in there, although they seem to belong, since nobody reacts at all.
“Who are all these people?” I ask Norah as the group starts talking and lounging around. Katie is the center of attention as she tells some story from their last tour.
“Not sure,” Norah admits.
“You’re not sure?” I narrow my eyes at her. “Not exactly tight on security.”
“That’s your job, Graham.”
I grunt. “I can’t do my job if you guys just randomly let people back here.”
She gives me this resigned shrug and walks off. I blend in with the background, leaning up against a wall, checking out the crowd.
They look like a bunch of Instagram celebrities, dressed like there are a million cameras around, posing and laughing and taking selfies. I guess this is what the youth’s like these days. I don’t get it, but then again, I bet my old man didn’t get me when I was young, so whatever. Besides, I’m not Katie’s father, far from it. I might be her Daddy though, time will tell.