“You plannin’ to etch my portrait?” I finally ask, irritated that I’m stuck here. I wouldn’t be shocked if someone planned this so they’d have a juicy story to write.
Dawson’s body twitches but he doesn’t laugh or say anything.
Glenna’s eyes flit toward him then back to me.
“Let me be honest,” she drawls.
Lord save me. In my experience, people who say that are only seeking permission to be openly cruel.
I raise an eyebrow, trying not to look massively annoyed, lest someone snap a photo and caption it “Shelby and Glenna showdown over Dawson Roads.” Or something equally inane.
“You’re an awfully poor substitute for me,” she says. “Don’t expect to keep him long.”
I curl my arm around Dawson’s and lean into him. Rooster will understand when I explain why. “Oh, honey,” I say in my most syrupy voice. “You mad you threw away a diamond and picked up a rock?”
Dawson peers down at me with an amused expression.
“So much for nothing going on,” she says to Dawson.
“We may not be together, but I know a good man when I see one,” I say. “I have a boyfriend.”
She taps one of her long, red fingernails against her chin. “Yes, I think I read something about him somewhere recently.”
“All lies,” Dawson says. “A concept you should understand since lies are your mother tongue.”
“Dawson! Smile for us!” someone calls out. “Shelby, Glenna! Oh, what a great shot!”
Hell no. I don’t want to be in a picture with this bitch. I back away, turning around.
Enjoy a photo of my round, rosy butt, jerks.
“Come on, Shelby,” Dawson says, taking my arm.
“Wait,” Glenna says. “I’m sorry about what all happened to you.” She flashes a demure smile that probably hardens cocks all over the country and flutters her lashes at Dawson. “But I want you to know I had nothin’ to do with it.”
What an odd thing for an innocent person to blurt out for no reason.
“Come off it, Glenna,” Dawson snaps. “You all but admitted it to me.”
“I did no such thing.”
“It don’t matter. This ain’t the time or place.” Dawson takes my elbow and steers me toward the door. “Let’s go, Shelby.”
“Shelby, wait.” Glenna’s voice ricochets through the crowd.
“Are you nuts?” I whirl around. Enough is enough. “You know, I grew up admiring you. But you’re not only a nasty piece of work, you’re dumb as hell.”
Her eyes widen. No one’s probably told her off in years.
“Nothing has ever happened with Dawson and me.” Damn, I’m fired up now. “So, you wound up that sicko and unleashed him on me for no reason.”
Her face pales. Maybe she finally gets the depth of what she participated in.
“He stuffed me in a friggin’ box,” I fume. “I could’ve died. Do you get that?”
“I didn’t know.” Her voice strikes the correct contrite note this time.
“What’d you think he wanted to do with me? Bake cookies and doodle in some coloring books?”
“You have to believe me, Shelby.”
“You’re about as trustworthy as a drunk raccoon in a chicken coop. I don’t believe a word you say. You should be sittin’ in a jail cell right next to Martin Suggs, but for some reason you’re here annoying me.”
I whirl around so fast, I almost trip over my stupid heels. Dawson catches my arm and guides me away from Glenna.
“Damn, girl,” he says in a low voice. “That was spectacular. Bet ya someone caught that on camera too.”
“Shoot.” My face burns.
“Nah, it’s probably a good thing. She all but admitted it. Maybe we can use it to finally have her arrested.”
Do I even care anymore?
Somehow we manage to avoid Glenna while we’re mingling in the lobby.
Dawson’s sweet as pie, stopping to introduce me to important people as he ushers me to our assigned seats.
But he’s not Rooster.
Through it all, I keep the same fake smile plastered on my face.
Even when they call my name for Best Female Video, no joy enters my heart. Sure, I smile and act surprised. I walk on stage and accept my little trophy. I strike the right notes of gratitude for the microphone.
But inside I’m in tatters.
My heart and mind are waging a secret battle. I can’t ask Rooster to attend one of these shows with me. But I don’t know if I can do another event like this without him.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Rooster
“You’re an idiot,” Jigsaw grumbles.
Our hotel outside Bent Rock has a large screen television for us to watch Shelby and Dawson walk down the red carpet together. They’re not holding hands for the cameras, so I guess that’s something.
“Thanks for the diagnosis, you little shit goblin.”
“Seriously.” He gestures to the screen. “At least he’s not an asshole. But I still wouldn’t trust him around my woman. The dude has a higher body count than a fuckin’ redwood tree.”
“You’ve never had a woman in your life, so your advice lacks teeth.”