He flexes his hands, and then a disturbingly vacant smile appears. “I’m not here to speculate, Miss Sinner. I’m here to guarantee you feel safe on this tour and can complete your work without being subjected to comments or behaviors that are unwelcome. To help facilitate this, the label and Mr. Erickson have requested an addition to your crew as well.” Directed pause. “In case you’re uncomfortable with me handling it.”

“Heath’s involved?” I squeak it. My thoughts are spinning, my head shaking. None of what he says makes sense. “Christian, what the fuck is going on?”

He has a moment of hesitation, an almost imperceptible tightening in his forehead before a return to distant, disconnected. “Mr. Erickson brought concerns to the label and myself after speaking with you and others. He recommended bringing in an assistant to … ensure everything stays aboveboard from here on out. The label has agreed. You’ll be moved to the other bus once we resume the tour. Unless you prefer different sleeping arrangements immediately? If so, we’ll provide a hotel.”

“No,” I say. And I mean more than the goddamn hotel. “None of it’s necessary. Nothing has happened to warrant any of this.”

His gaze darts out the window to the parking lot, nostrils flaring. “Your assistant has arrived.” Attention flicks to me. “Thank you for allowing me to attempt to make things right for you, Miss Sinner. Please don’t hesitate to bring any concerns to me so I have an opportunity to act.”

The last part has a bite. A slip of the hurt. He believes I went to Heath and the label behind his back about being—what? Sexually harassed? I’ve never considered anything as such, and I’m certain if I’d displayed the slightest bit of unease, whatever had been said wouldn’t be said again.

Christian marches past me and leaves without another word.

I’m not far behind him, wanting to fix whatever the fuck is going on. But when I step off the bus, my assistant waits for me. Pink hair and pretty amber eyes I’ve seen nearly every day for the past year.

Xander’s smile tells me before he says it. “God, I missed you.”

23

REMI

Before…

The visual media lab in my high school remains abandoned all but a few hours a day, so I take advantage when the temperature drops too low to hang outside in the commons. I rarely use the room for anything but a spot to disappear in the quiet since my needs have moved beyond the ancient software and outdated equipment. My phone has higher quality video, and apps offer better editing programs.