Page 9 of Sanctuary (Deviant Hearts #0.5)

I grip Jett's hand tightly as I yank him away from Cruz, my heart pounding wildly against my rib cage. The vodka fumes emanating from Jett's breath make my stomach churn. I clench my jaw, praying silently that we can avoid another blowout argument tonight, when he snakes his arm around my neck.

As we stumble behind the food trucks, Jett jerks to a halt. His abrupt stop forces me to whirl around, my hand still clutching his.

The muffled sounds of the dying party are nothing more than a distant buzz, and it feels like it’s just me and him in the entire damn world.

"What the hell, Jett?" I snap, frustrated, and drop his hand like it’s scalded me.

"The fuck was that?"

"I can’t talk to other people now?"

"Other people? Yes. Him? No!"

"What’s wrong with him? And why do you always have to put me down in front of everyone? Do you get off on humiliating me or something?"

Jett snorts derisively, waving a dismissive hand. "Oh please, babe. You always think it’s about you."

"It’s supposed to be about us, not about you or me."

Jett closes the distance between us. He tilts his head forward and hisses out, "Let me get this clear. You’re here to support me this weekend. To help land this vodka deal. That’s your fucking job. That’s what girlfriends are for."

"Excuse me?" I try not to show it, but deep down, it stings. I feel like a pawn in his grand scheme, not a human being.

"Instead, you’re over there chatting up that loser. He and his entire band are fucking one-hit wonders. Tomorrow, nobody?ll even remember their names."

Anger flashes through me, hot and bright. "You're unbelievable, you know that? I bust my ass for you, Jett. I’m sick and tired of you treating me like?—"

"Like what? An accessory?" His eyes narrow into slits. "Because, babe, that’s exactly what you signed up for when you moved in with me. Don’t forget it. Don’t forget who puts food on the table."

"Of course," I grit out. "It's always about you and your needs, your feelings. What about mine, huh? This isn't a relationship when it's so one-sided!"

"Ungrateful bitch," he growls, his voice low and menacing. "You'd be nothing without me. I’ve given you everything, and this is how you repay me?"

Fear knots in my stomach, but I refuse to back down. Not this time. "Giving me a place to stay doesn't give you the right to treat me like shit, Jett."

In that moment, clarity washes over me. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, Jett will never change. He'll never see me as anything more than a stepping stone to his own success. He just called me an accessory. And yes, he is drunk. But drunks are rarely liars. On the contrary.

"I never should've come to this stupid festival," I say, my voice flat. "I’m going to get a hotel."

Turning on my heel, I start walking. My pulse is a staccato beat in my ears, loud and hard to ignore. Fear and thrill course through my veins in equal measure.

"Fuck you, Wendy!" Jett yells after me. "Good luck finding a place to stay! You think any hotel 'round here's got room with all these people coming to see all these bands? You'll come crawling back, babe. You always do."

I flip him the bird over my shoulder, not bothering to look back. "Go to hell, Jett. I'll take my chances."

What a shit show of a first day.

The partying on the festival grounds is starting to gradually die down as I trail across the lawn with no destination in mind. It’s pretty late, past midnight, and a lot of crew members will need to be up tomorrow at the crack of dawn to get ready for the first day.

Jett’s right. With over a hundred thousand people expected to attend from all over Europe and beyond, finding a hotel I can actually afford just to get a couple hours of sleep will be challenging.

With each step, the reality of my decision sinks in, the adrenaline giving way to a creeping sense of uncertainty.

Where will I go?

What will I do?

Can I just sleep outside?

At some point, I come to a stop and look around, wondering why the hell I agreed to fly over here in the first place. I could have picked up some extra shifts at the salon. Weekends are always busy, and I need the hours.

Beauty school doesn’t pay for itself.

"Hey, dollface," someone calls from the group of drunken revelers stumbling past. "Wanna come party with us?"

Ewwww . "No thank you," I reply. "But you go ahead."

They don’t insist. Thank God. I don’t think I can deal with more bullshit today.

And I can't go back to Jett. Not tonight.

Not when the alcohol has unleashed the worst of his temper and entitlement. The thought of facing him again, of enduring another tirade of belittling insults and dismissive cruelty sends a shudder down my spine. Plus, my pride won’t let me.

But the alternative—wandering the festival grounds alone, with nowhere to lay my head and no money to my name—is equally daunting.

Frankly, there’s no choice but to go back to Sonic Trash’s tour bus. If I’m lucky, Jett’s already passed out. Or not even there. That way, I can get a bit more rest.

I take a deep breath and start walking again. I've survived worse than this. I've clawed my way out of the wreckage of my childhood, fought tooth and nail for every scrap of happiness and self-worth.

I won't let Jett break me. I won’t let myself become my mother.

I think it’s intentional that I walk really slowly. Deep down in my gut, I know Jett will probably be waiting, all tweaked out and victorious, ready to gloat.

When Sonic Trash buses finally emerge in the distance, I’m so anxious over this confrontation that hasn’t even happened yet that I can’t think straight.

As I approach, I see a young woman leaning against the crew bus, a cigarette dangling from her fingers. She looks up as I draw near, her eyes narrowing in recognition.

"You're Jett's girl, right?" she asks, her voice rough and smoke tinged.

"Wendy." I stop. "Yes."

A faint smile tugs at her lips. "I remember you from that music video shoot last year. ‘Wild Dogs.’ The one we did in Glendale. In that huge warehouse."

The memory surfaces, hazy and distant. A crowded set, the glare of lights, Jett's arm slung possessively around my shoulders whenever he didn’t need to be in the take.

I agreed to do the guys’ makeup and hair for free.

It was right after I started beauty school, and I needed to work on building my portfolio.

"I’m sorry, I don’t recollect your name," I admit.

"I'm Nell. I manage gear. On the road and in the studio."

My mind conjures up the girl’s face from that day, a blur of piercings and dark eyeliner while she’s hauling equipment and barking orders. She’s maybe a few years older than me.

"Right, of course," I say, forcing a smile. "It's good to see you again."

Nell takes a long drag of her cigarette, the ember glowing bright in the darkness. "What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be with the guys?" She jerks her head at the band’s tour bus standing side by side with the crew one.

I know better than anyone that gossip in this industry spreads way too fast and has a tendency to become something it’s not, but I’m not sure anything I say to justify Jett’s behavior will be of much help.

Being with him is like holding a breath underwater, I realize.

"I...don't feel like going back to the bus tonight. "

"You and your man had a fight or something?" Nell asks.

"Something like that."

"He's on a bender again, huh?"

"Yep."

Nell nods, her expression softening with understanding. "Sounds like our drummer. Everyone knows when Jett's trashed. He's a fucking ugly, loud, egotistic drunk."

A surprised laugh bubbles up from my chest, the tension easing slightly. "You've got that right."

Nell flicks her cigarette to the ground, grinding it out with the toe of her boot. "Listen, if you need a place to crash, you can stay with the crew tonight."

"Oh gosh, I don’t want to put anyone out."

"One of the guys left to visit some friends in town, so his bunk is free."

"Are you sure?"

Nell waves a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. We're all down-to-earth guys. No drama, no bullshit. You'll be safe here."

The knot in my chest loosens, and I feel myself nodding. "Okay. Thank you. Really."

She shrugs, a half smile playing on her lips. "Us girls gotta stick together, right? Come on, I'll show you inside."

And then she gestures for me to follow her onto the bus.