Ringing and ringing. That classic iPhone tune. The one I hate. I don’t know why I hate that sound, but I do.
I search around the floor, my fingers grazing over the concrete. My nails tear from the skin when I scratch against the concrete ground. The tune gets louder and louder. Blood is dripping down my fingertips. I start to panic. Sweat pours out of my pores as I continue to frantically try to find it.
“Why can’t I see anything!” I scream when the sound and pain become unbearable.
“Because we don’t want you to…”
I shoot up from the bed, swiping the sweat off my face. Another stupidly graphic nightmare, but when I check the clock on my bedside table and see it’s seven a.m., I’m no longer mad. I got a full seven hours’ sleep last night, even though I struggled to go to sleep.
My phone rings and I jolt from the bed, that same ringtone blaring through the room. Shivers break out over my skin as I stare at the unknown caller. This isn’t my ringtone.
The sound continues until I shake off my unwarranted fear, swipe to unlocked it, and answer.
“Hello?”
“Saskia Dragavei, the time is so close.” The voice that comes through the other side of the call is like ice being pumped through my veins.
My heartbeat quickens in my chest as I slowly and shakily get to my feet. “Who is this?”
The line goes dead.
I stare down at my phone, confused. Who was that?
There’s a loud bang on my door and I jump in shock before it’s being kicked down and Killian is standing on the other side with nothing but loose jeans that aren’t buttoned and no shirt. It’s as though he got out of bed and came straight here, with his hair unruly all over his head and his eyes manic.
“Killian, what the fuck!” I yell at him, a mixture of panic and confusion from my weird morning.
He points to my suitcase. “Pack your shit.”
“What the hell are you doing? Are you high?”
Killian laughs manically. “Oh, you fucking wish I was high, baby, then maybe I wouldn’t have to fight the need to fucking strangle you. Pack. Your. Shit.”
“I’m confused,” I answer, because it’s all I can think to say in the midst of the chaos. “Why do I have to pack?”
Killian has had enough obviously because he’s now unzipping my suitcase—which was only partially unpacked to begin with—and starts throwing clothes inside of it.
“Killian!” I yell, which must have woken the entire bus because now Kaizer and Kenan are standing at the threshold of my door.
Kaizer is spooning granola into his mouth, watching the commotion.
Killian, as if sensing him, spins around. “Get the fuck out, Kaiz.”
Kaizer pauses and then looks at me. “I was wrong. He is losing his shit.”
“Pack.” Killian points.
“Killian, no!” I reach for the clothes he’s taking. “I’m not leaving, I have to stay here.”
He holds the clothes above his head, so I have to jump and reach for them. It’s useless since he’s almost an entire foot taller.
I point to the two of them. “Get out.” They both leave and I kick the door closed before going back to Killian.
I reach for his arm. “What’s the problem?”
Killian pauses, his jaw tensing a few times. “The problem is that you don’t know Kaizer, Saskia, and I don’t want his bullshit around you.”
“Oh, but I can have your bullshit around me?” I throw back, raising my eyebrows and completely forgetting about the weird phone call and dream that just happened.
“Yes,” Killian hisses, walking closer to me, until I’m backing up against the wall.
His fingers flex around my throat. “You gonna ask why my bullshit is allowed around you?”
I square my shoulders. “Why, Killian?”
“This isn’t even about Kaizer as a person, Saskia, it’s fucking about you. About how I may be many things, but a liar is not one of them.” He releases me, shoving me back against the wall and tossing my clothes back onto the bed. He turns around to face me just as he reaches for the door. “You’re right, Little Dragon. You do what you need to do.” Then he stalks out, slamming the door behind him.
“What was that?” Kyrin asks, as I’m making my way back to our RV. Of course the fucker came for the show, and that’s partly my fault. At first, Ky just wanted to fuck her. Bad. But now I think he’s actually intrigued by her because of the interest I’ve had in her.
“Nothing,” I mutter, just as King is stepping out of he and Perse’s bus.
He whistles out to us and waves us over, putting a smoke into his mouth. We make our way to him as he’s blowing out a cloud.
He hands it to me. “You need this?”
I watch him carefully as he throws a shirt over his head and I bring the tip of the smoke to my mouth. “You knew?” I ask, inhaling angrily. I let the harsh nicotine choke me to death before exhaling it out through a hiss.