He gives a curt shake of his head. “I’ll follow you.”
On one hand, this gruff man is intimidating, with his size, his bold tattoos, and the way that he’s questioning me, but I’m grateful to have him with me. It’s not as if I expect Lindsey to leap out from behind a door and attack me, but with Duke behind me, I’d actually like to see her try. He puts his questions on pause as I lead him up to my room.
My guitar is still in pieces on my bed, but I look only long enough to verify that it’s in the same state as when I left it. No further damage has been done —not that much morecouldbe done to it — and from a quick glance around my room, everything else looks as it should be.
With a sudden jolt of panic, I remember my amp and microphones, but breathe out a sigh of relief when I verify that they’re safe in the closet.
“Where are the clothes she damaged?” Duke asks, following closely behind me.
I gesture to the closet door.
“Just this?” he asks, briefly handling the fabric before continuing to scan the room.
“This is all I saw, but I didn’t have time to search thoroughly before I left for work this morning.”
“We can do that when we get back. Can you lock the room?” he asks.
“Oh, shit. I meant to get a lock during lunch, but I forgot.” We were slammed at work today. Garrett and I just drove through a fast food place for lunch, and he spent the ride reassuring me that everything would be okay for Rusty’s tomorrow. “No, I have no way of locking it.”
Duke takes the guitar case from me, lifting it like it’s a feather. “Anything else you want to bring right now?”
I shake my head but say, “I need to change, though. I’ll be right back.” I grab a pair of jeans and a casual shirt, and slip into the bathroom to get out of my work clothes.
Even though I’d have never predicted Lindsey would attack my belongings, I really don’t see her causing more damage, at least, not today. Her aim was precise; she knew just how to hurt me the most.
Garrett told me that Lindsey propositioned Trevor and Adrian as they were leaving this morning, and he suspects that their rejection was her motive for hurting me. It seems ridiculous, and also incredibly ironic, considering she was the one who hired Trevor to come here in the first place, with the intention of him having sex with me.
Of course, she probably knew that I wouldn’t sleep with a strange stripper, and I imagine she’s just as surprised that the stripper became my … friend? I don’t really know how to label Trevor, but he’s definitely a friend, because why else would he be here supporting me tonight? And he brought along his security guard buddy.
I toss my slacks and blouse on the edge of my bed and collect Duke, who’s standing in the center of my bedroom floor, chest out, hands clasped behind his back as if he’s on patrol.
Once the five of us are in his giant crew cab truck, I think about how bizarre this situation is. A couple of nights ago, the only one of these men I knew was Garrett, and I’d never seen him outside of a work environment. Now there are his two school friends and this massive man who feels like a hired bodyguard.
I’m sitting up front with Duke, while the other three men are in back. I’d feel more comfortable next to them, but Duke is counting on me to provide directions when we get close to the music store.
“You don’t have to work tonight?” I ask after several minutes of silence.
“Night off,” Duke says. Though he’s not unkind, the way he talks, answering with just a couple of words, makes me feel like he’s irritated and doesn’t want to be here, but then I remember that he spoke similarly when I first met him at the club.
“I appreciate you being here,” I tell him. “I’m sure you probably had better plans for your night off.”
“Nope. No plans,” he says, and I realize what’s different about him. He flirted with me when I was at the club, but he’s all business now, and I suppose that’s for the best.
I watch the scenery go by and notice how nice the truck smells; some manly mixture of leather, coffee, and spice fills my senses as I lean back in the comfortable seat and try to relax for the first time since I got out of bed this morning.
I’m not comfortable with Garrett buying a guitar for me. I appreciate his generosity, and of course I’ll pay him back, but I wouldn’t let him do it if I wasn’t worried that canceling at Rusty’s would put a black mark on my record with them, and potentially with other venues in the area. The last thing I’d want is to be labeled flaky and unreliable before I’ve even had a chance to perform.
It might take a while, but I will pay Garrett back. Hopefully, the crowd at Rusty’s will love me, and they’ll want to have me perform on a regular basis. I try to focus on these optimistic thoughts and ignore the complete turmoil that Lindsey’s actions have created.
Garrett’s invited me to stay with him, even though he only has a studio apartment. It’s a temporary solution that I’m grateful for, but I’ll need to find a new place to live, and quickly. I don’t want to impose on him, and I don’t want to complicate things at work, especially when he’s about to be promoted.
The three men in the backseat are mostly quiet during the ride, with just some brief exchanges between Trevor and Adrian, until Adrian asks Garrett, “Did you think we were the ones who ruined the guitar? Is that why you wanted us on FaceTime, to see our reactions when you called?”
I didn’t know Garrett had called them — I just assumed text messages had been exchanged — so I turn to glance at Garrett, who looks vaguely guilty.
“How could you think that?” Trevor asks, no doubt seeing the same emotion on his old classmate’s face.
“I didn’t actually think that,” Garrett says firmly, “but you were there in the morning. I had to ask.”