Playing Russian Roulette.

'Cause after all the pain you put me through,
I can't stand to see this side of you.
And you won't drown me in your misery,
You'll have to find someone else to be your company.

-Saving Abel.

Lights basked the large stadium in blue and green neon colors, flickering across the excited faces of the audience, both the people pressed against the chest high, black metal barricade decked out in dark mesh and the numerous teenagers unlucky enough to be stuck behind nine hundred concert-goers at the back of the stadium.

Drunken, excited, and people of questionable origins screamed at the top of their lungs to Hit the Lights as they jammed out on the stage not teen feet away from my position at the far corner of Arrow Hall, in front of the barricade.

Arrow Hall in Toronto, Ontario did not allow people on the stage, it turns out. Even if you flash a Buzznet pass in their faces. That will only make them scoff at you and stick you within arms reach of the insane young adults, whom kept touching me.

I didn’t realize how much I hated being touched until more hands that I cared to count reached out and brushed my arms and back, not to mention the occasional touch on the black, lace neck of my sleeveless, purple cotton shirt.

Nor did I realize how lucky the privileges of sleeping with the front man of a band were. When Ronnie was still in the band, and when I went on tour with them, I never stood anywhere but the back and side stages, the best seats in the house.

Ronnie may have been a heartless asshole in most prospects, but he was not one of put his girlfriend in a position where she may get involved in a possible mosh pit or fight. No. I ranked a bit higher than that. And so did Devin and Stefan when they tagged along with me.

But, now, I was not that lucky. The guards keeping the audience at bay continued giving me insulting glares, thinking I should be behind the barricade like everyone else, and ignoring the fact that I was almost being molested by the men behind me.

If not for my Buzznet pass -- and Rachel’s well-known reputation for protecting her employees -- they would have picked me up and sent me sailing into the crowd to be stomped and, more than likely, actually molested by the intoxicated Canadian men.

Awesome.

Hopefully, when Escape the Fate got on the stage tonight, they would point me out or do something that would stick something hard right in the craw of those annoying, hugely muscled guys.

That would be oh-so satisfying. Ha. Nothing would make me feel better about being stuck to do a days’ work alone, surrounded by unruly people and pissy guards, at one in the afternoon, at the twelfth Warped show of the summer.

Yes, alone. Devin decided he wanted to spend the day with Stefan as loving boyfriends and let me, a five foot three, ninety eight pound girl go off by herself into a mob of people who could eat me for breakfast and still be hungry.

Rachel’s orders were the only reason I stuck around since ten in the morning, my lower back pressed against a column suspended from the ceiling and doing my best to focus on the amazing lineup of bands. I was supposed to sit through the entire sets of Hit the Lights and There for Tomorrow.

I made it through half the Hit the Lights set before getting antsy.

I didn’t mean to go against what my boss wanted me to do, but I had plans. Plans that -- as much as I didn’t want to admit it -- I really wanted to keep.

I had a date with the devil herself. Gabrielle Frosinos.

My teeth chomped down on the side of my cheek and I glanced down at the jeweled watch placed on my wrist. Five or ten minutes, and Hit the Lights would leave the stage, allowing There for Tomorrow to take their place.

Our date at a park two streets away from Arrow Hall was at two; it was one forty five, and I knew for a fact Gabrielle was already on her way to the place. She said she wanted to get to the neighborhood early, order food, and set up everything up so I wouldn’t have to do anything.

A sign that something was wrong. She was being… nice.

I shivered, looking up as the front man of Hit the Lights bopped around the stage and circled around the guitarist in somewhat of a dance.

When she asked me if I wanted to go, she said she needed to talk to me about something, get my opinion on the situation, and I jumped on it in hopes that she wanted to tell me about the problem I recently noticed surrounding her and Craig.

Yes, they were having a problem, and it was me who had to take the full brunt of the consequences thanks to it.

For two days, forty eight hours, Gabrielle was attached to my hip. She wanted to spend more time with me as friends instead of just girls in the same circle of people. Me, never having had a best friend who was a girl, found it frightening.

My view of the matter was not wanted unfortunately.

The second the thirteen hour drive to Indianapolis ended, Gabrielle jumped on me and dragged me out to eat with her, saying she had to get away from the boys. The usual story.

But, after Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, I was beginning to think something was wrong. Over the time since Pomona, I understood she didn’t like the boys and Craig was not her favorite person in the world, but she at least enjoyed being around him. Who wouldn’t?

Something was different now. Through Pittsburgh and Cleveland, she stayed at my side and did not look in any of the boys’ way. Even when Craig started talking to her in the affectionate way he occasionally did, she snubbed him.

She let her presence be scarce when she knew I was spending time with Max, Robert, or Bryan, but when I spent four hours with Craig, talking to the Monster Pit Crew girl for Buzznet, she didn’t come around at all, and we were standing directly outside Escape the Fate’s tour bus.

It worried me. They were my friends! I couldn’t just turn a blind eye when there was obviously something the matter between them.

“You’re just jealous of our delicious maple syrup!”

I stole a glance over my shoulder at the crowd behind my back. Two girls, one blonde and the other a redhead, were glaring at each other. They stood closest to my safe heaven of the metal column, making me with in earshot of their… argument?

About maple syrup?

“I am not jealous of Canada’s maple syrup!” the redhead shouted. “I don’t even like maple syrup, so there, you dumb bimbo. Now stop touching my boyfriend before I lob off your air filled head.”

Ah, the redhead was a Southern girl and the argument wasn’t about maple syrup at all. The blonde had touched her boyfriend. Wasn’t that the grounds for all the fights between girls.

Not wanting to get caught eavesdropping, I averted my gaze back to the stage where Hit the Lights were singing the final notes of Drop the Girl. The loud screams started dulling as the notes progressed to the end of the song.

The last word ended, and the lead singer placed the microphone back in the stand and turned on his heel, flashing a quick wave over his shoulder. The two guitarists and the bassist joined him, their instruments dangling at their sides.

And I pivoted, twirling myself around the column and pushing into jog toward the side exit of Arrow Hall. I could not sit around and wait another brain wracking second, wondering what was wrong between Craig and Gabrielle.

For all I knew, it could be something terrible! Like… Gabrielle could be dying and she was keeping it a secret from the band. Or, the other way around. Were the boys’ alright?

My mind shot to Max. I raised my hand to my lace collar. I had to know. It was a done deal; There for Tomorrow’s set could wait. The impending lives hanging on the balance all because of this information could not.

Would not!

Once within reach, I shoved open the door and surged out into the Canadian summer air. Seventy degrees was as hot as it became. I crossed my arms over my chest and rubbed my hands up and down my forearms.

I ignored how cold the air was and started around the large building toward the front parking lot.

I slowed to a comfortable, leisurely walk across the blacktop, my shoes clicking. A sea of cars were parking in front of the building, spreading up and down the street, even spilling into the private lot across the street where the tour buses were located.

Glancing both ways, I jogged across the street. I veered through the towering vehicles, inching slowly around my two homes, and ignoring the urge to walk inside Escape the Fate’s buss -- I was not going anywhere near my RV while Devin and Stefan were having quality time.

My fingertips grazed along the entire side, only pausing with my slight hesitation at the door. The sound of laughter, a TV commercial, and videogame gunshots resounded behind the door, calling to me. What harm can a little hello do?

A lot. I wouldn’t want to leave once inside.

I pushed my hair from my face. As soon as I returned… I was inside that bus with Max. The second I got back.

I crossed my arms over my chest once more, continuing my trek. But the sound of a window snapping open made me look back over my shoulder. Bryan was leaning out the tiny window in the living area.

“Where are you going?” he called.

“I have to eat lunch with Gabrielle,” I answered, walking closer to the window. I patted Bryan’s cheek when I was close enough. “Why? You want to follow me, because Gabby would freak the fuck out if you did.”

Just like the day when Max and Stefan followed us to the smoothie shop and ended up protecting me from Josh. I bit my lip to keep from smiling.

Bryan grinned evilly. “Who cares? Besides--”

Somewhere inside the bus, Robert’s voice exploded into existence. “Oh, yeah, Jessica! You naughty fucking girl!”

Bryan rolled his eyes. My mouth gaped and my stomach felt nauseous. I did not want to know what was going on inside that bus with Robert.

Ew.

“Jessica?” I hissed. “Like, his girlfriend, Jessica?”

Craig’s face appeared in the window beside Bryan’s. “Yes. Robert and Jess are having their weekly webcam date.” He stuck out his tongue and jabbed a finger at his open mouth. “This is the naughty version.”

A cringe passed over my face. That was the last thing I ever wanted to hear. It was sweet in an odd kind of way -- odd just like Robert and Jessica’s relationship -- but was it necessary on a bus full of people.

Then, I realized that was the reason Bryan wanted to follow me. That made more sense than anything that had happened today.

“Okay, okay.” I raised my hands in defeat. “You guys can follow me.” I looked around and lowered my voice. “We’ll be at the restaurant in front High Park on the other street. Stay low for a little bit, though. Gabby wants to tell me something.”

“’Kay!”

Bryan and Craig disappeared back into the bus.

I wrapped my arms around myself, frowning at the breeze as it whipped floated through the space between the tour buses and cascaded over me like a waterfall. A jacket would have been wonderful in this weather.

Laughing, I forced myself to walk away from the private lot. I crossed the second street and wound my way through a group of trees. On the other side was a beautiful, wide open, lush green park. A cement walkway zipped down the middle lined with blooming cherry blossoms.

Benches dotted the landscape. Happy couples and women with children and dogs flaunted around happily, singing and shouting and dancing. The atmosphere was happy and light.

Parallel to the park was a tiny area with three cafés, each of them small, quaint, and adorable. All the tables designated for the eateries sat outside, wrought iron, black, with beautiful, intricate designs lacing over them.

Gabrielle brought me here? Here, to a happy, bright, beautiful place with flowers and laughter and sunshine. Okay. I was not Christian nor did I ever claim to be me, but didn’t that kind of thing burn Satan? Or at least make him/her slightly itchy?

My eyes swept over the tables. Five different couples were having lunch; none of them were Gabrielle and Leila. On the third of searching, I finally spotted Gabrielle sitting at one of the tables, Leila placed in her lap as she fed her.

I strode through the strip of grass and trees and hopped onto the walkway, following it to the destination of the cute restaurants. Neither girl noticed my existence until I pulled out my chair and it scraped loudly against the cement.

I settled myself into the small chair. “Hey, Gabby,” I greeted. “Hi, Leila!” I wiggled my fingers at the little girl.

The plate in front of me - and in front of Gabrielle - bared a large, gorgeous salad. I wasn’t that hungry, but I needed to eat something so people wouldn’t worry about me.

I picked up my fork, peeking at the second occupant of out delicate, tiny, wrought iron table sitting against the brick wall of the little café. Gabrielle looked calm, blonde hair cascading in streams over her red, silk shirt.

Her eyes were rimmed with glittery, gold eye shadow and the smallest amount of eyeliner, her lips a subtle pink color.

If she was as upset as I imagined, she was excellent at hiding it. Am I the only person that can’t do that? That would explain why she always seemed so stoic. She broke that stoniness only to smile or laugh once in a while, but I never saw her covey the emotions I always expressed.

Then again, MDMA did make the addict at emotional wreck once the high was gone.

“Mommy, down!”

Leila’s tinkling voice made me look at Gabrielle’s lap, where the toddler sat, wriggling her arms up and down.

Gabrielle raised an eyebrow at her daughter. “Down? You want on the ground?”

Leila nodded. Gabrielle put down her wine glass and lowered the girl onto the cement beside her legs. “Now, stay, Leila Rose Mabbitt. You do not move, do you understand me?”

“M’kay, Mommy.”

Before Gabrielle looked back around, I lowered my gaze to my own food, fanning away the thoughts of the situation between the blonde and Escape the Fate. It was none of my business anyway. If she wanted me to know, she would tell me before lunch was over.

The ends of my fork screeched against the expensive, white china as I scooped the only piece of what I knew as pancetta off the plate and raised it to my mouth, devouring it in seconds. Beautiful, bacon-like flavor blossomed on my taste buds, the small hint of tangy dressing chasing after it.

My mouth watered and I curled my hand beneath my jaw in fear of drooling as I chewed thoughtfully.

Their fight really was not any of my business. I had no part in it, yet I felt outcast. Max and Bryan seemed to know what was going on when I questioned. Neither would tell me specific details, only that the two were going through a “rough patch”, in Monte’s ever wise words.

I knew that. Any fool with eyes and common sense could see the way were having a fight, but over that -- and why it was having such a negative effect on their civilized relationship -- was what I wanted to know. Or why they would act this way in front of Leila.

Leila was the only reason they were still in contact, that much I knew, and that much both Craig and Gabrielle had let be known, so why was Gabrielle letting herself act like a high school student and ignore the one she blatantly still loved in front of the baby she adored?

I stole another glance at the blonde bombshell.

Food still sat untouched on her plate, but her fork was in her hand she was pushing the daintily cut salad around so it appeared as if she were eating. I, however, knew that trick better than anyone should.

I was right. Something was bothering her, and it went beyond a little fight with Craig. I nearly scoffed. No matter how hard I tried, I could not think of a single thing that could be wrong with her life. From her hot ex-fiancé, to her beautiful, well behaved doll of a daughter.

Ha! I wished I had that kind of trouble.

I lowered my fork until it clinked against the edge of my plate. Pointing my eyes at Gabrielle, I reached for the wine glass at the corner of the table.

I wasn’t sure how to go about asking her if anything was wrong. I also didn’t know how to question without making it obvious that I had been monitoring how she and Craig were acting, as stalker reminiscent as it seemed.

“Gabby,” I finally whispered, setting my glass down. “Is… Um, do you mind if I ask you a question?” I folded my hands in my lap and pursed my lips, preparing for the onslaught that the question might cause.

Gabrielle tilted her head, her blue eyes glittering a dark color beneath the sun. The deep, rich, red color of her shirt reminded me of flames, and the stupidest image of Satan as an attractive, innocent, blonde girl popped into my head.

My father always taught me that he believed the devil was a gorgeous, striking woman who used her looks to lure in her prey. Well, he was right, and I happened to be having lunch with her. Odd.

“Of course, Jules.” She put her fork down and grabbed her wine glass, raising the water filled flute to her lips. “What is it?”

“What’s going on between you and Craig?” “What’s going on between you and Craig?” The inquiry poured from my mouth before I could think of a better way to put it. My face screwed up into a horrific grimace.

The conversation could go one of two ways now. Good, where she would answer my questions. Or, bad, where she would freak out for intrusion in her private life.

Number one, number one. Please, be number one. I did not want to be screamed at in public… in the middle of a happy, bustling park in Toronto, Ontario.

Who knew what kind of article that would cause.

She froze halfway through a sip of water. Turning the full impact of her icy orbs at me, she raised a light colored eyebrow high on her forehead.

A course of guilt ran down my spine. This was none of my business!

She pulled the glass away from her mouth. “What?”

I didn’t respond. She understood good and well my question; I was not going to repeat it. I reclaimed my fork and ate a piece of lettuce, waiting.

Gabrielle sat her glass down, her hand wrapped tightly around the stem. “Why do you want to know?” she snapped, her tone too sharp for my taste.

Ah, we were going down path two.

I fought the surge of anger that rose into my chest and up the back of my throat. The hand in my lap coiled into a fist, my nails sinking into my palm.

“Because.” I took another bite. “Craig, Rob, Monte, and Max are my friends. I want to know why you are acting like a bitch to them when I’m sure they did nothing to deserve it.”

Gabrielle stared at me. The hand on the glass trembled, and I looked away, down at the white fabric of my safari shorts. Whether she was mad or just upset, I couldn’t tell. I most certainly was not going to look up and find out until she said something.

Three bites of salad later, she finally spoke.

“Craig doesn’t love me anymore.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but stopped. Craig doesn’t love me anymore. The way she said his name. It did not sound like the dreamy, loving manner she used before, the way that shocked me at Starbucks.

Now she uttered the once beloved name like she was reading a grocery list. No feeling, no… anything.

I dropped my fork. I suddenly didn’t feel like eating anymore. My appetite vanished.

Okay. Maybe things were worse than I thought.

Leaning forward, I touched Gabrielle’s arm. “What do you mean he doesn’t love you anymore?” I whispered.

She yanked her arm out from under my touch and rested as far back as the iron chair would allow. I pulled my hand onto my side of the table, sighing.

Little Miss Perfect had issues that I did not know of.

I leaned against the back of my chair as well and crossed my arms over my chest, not letting my gaze fall from Gabrielle.

She tapped her long nails against the side of her wineglass. “He doesn’t love me anymore,” she began, “because I haven’t been the best ex or mother in the world.”

Gasp!

“I overheard Craig talking to Bryan in Indianapolis about me.” Gabrielle lolled her head backward until she was facing the blue sky. I still managed to spot the tear slipping down the corner of her face. “He said he was disappointed in what I had become.”

“I can‘t believe you Gabrielle! What the fuck were you thinking?! Leila doesn‘t need to see this! She‘s only two! What will she think if she sees her mother fucked up?”

Curiosity got the better of me. Just what had she become? And why did it disappoint and anger Craig so horribly? Was that what the argument in Dallas had been about?

“Then, when I brought it up, we had an argument. One thing led to another, and he said he would never love me, ever again, no matter how badly Leila needed both parents together.”

She gave up trying to keep her composure and sobbed loudly, dropping her head into her hands. Her entire body shook with the force of the sobs wracking through her.

Now I knew why she had been quiet, why she only wanted to stay around me and no one else.

From personal experience, I understood what that felt like, someone saying they would never love you and crushing every dream you ever had. But, things were working out for me. Gabrielle was out of luck on this, and I didn’t know how to help her.

I could talk to Craig, but, truth be told, I did not want to. He was getting along just fine being single. He and Gabrielle just weren’t meant to be together. Time to face the facts, bury the hatchet, let the old heart ache go.

Gabrielle needed to deal with this and I needed to keep my mouth shut.

The messenger always gets shot.

A part of me wanted to feel sympathy for her, but the rest of me refused to. If she didn’t want Craig to hate her, she would have at least attempted to be a little nicer to him in place of the controlling bitch the boys and I recognized her to be.

“This can’t come as a surprise to you,” I said.

“And what does that mean?”

I planted my feet firmly on the ground, my heels clicking against the cement. “What do I mean? Gabrielle, you hate all the important people in Craig’s life and you try to act like his mother! He’s a grown man. He doesn’t need to be watched over.”

“You mean like how Devin and Stefan shelter you like a helpless child?” Gabrielle quipped.

Slamming my hands on the table, I jumped up. The anger returned in a second flat. Enough was enough!

“Don’t you fucking drag my friends into this! They did that to save my life, because they loved me! You only do it to keep Craig from being happy! You want him to be just as miserable as you are!” I shouted.

Gabrielle rose from the table. “You don’t know anything about me, Piper!” she snarled. “So don’t be so quick to judge when you don‘t understand me or my life!”

She swiped her hand through her hair. I could almost physically see the levels of fury building inside her. So, I found the sensitive issue.

Grabbing the edge of the table, I leaned forward. “I think I know everything about you,” I said sharply. “You are no different than the rest of the girls who chase after guys like Craig, you’re just better at hiding how ashamed you are of yourself and the whorish lifestyle you’ve picked up.”

Gabrielle’s jaw dropped and she recoiled like I had smacked her. The truth was the truth; even she was capable of knowing that much, and she recognized I was correct in my assumptions of her and her lifestyle.

She was that woman my father strived to snatch. The same carbon copy of the disgusting hooker he brought home every night from a different bar, club, or street corner.

Gabrielle was her, and the only reason she changed into the somewhat refined woman I was staring at was all because of Craig, his money and love, and Leila.

I had enough soul to appreciate that, but I didn’t want to. Not for her. Not for someone without a soul, heart, or conscious.

“Shut up!” Gabrielle cried, her voice shaking. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, Piper! You are no better than me and my ’whorish’ lifestyle, you cracked up bitch.”

I ignored the sting that struck me.

“You dated someone you despised for four years because you needed male attention, you craved it, and he was the only one willing to give it to you.” Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Because you’re desperate.”

Tears blurred my vision. I fought the sob rising in my throat. No! I refused to show what effect her words had on me. Giving her that satisfaction was not something I ever wanted to do.

Gabrielle laughed. The sound made my skin crawl. “Unlike me, you haven’t changed one bit. You’ve gotten worse. You look anorexic. You’re a walking time bomb, waiting to explode emotionally at any second. You’re addicted to drugs and it shows. Oh, does it show.”

I sucked in a slow breath. I may have been a horrible, desperate person, but she was worse. Everything about her paled in comparison to me, to how I worked.

“Fuck you,” I spat, and turned on my heel. I bowed my head, my hand rising to my mouth, and walked briskly in the opposite direction, feeling better with each foot I put between Gabrielle and myself.

Her words ricocheted inside my head.

I couldn’t focus on a single emotion raring through me. Anger and annoyance, hatred toward her, and… sadness?

I should have minded my own business. Their fights and arguments and whatever Gabrielle had become -- and what she was before I met her -- did not concern me, yet I stuck my big, fat head where it didn’t belong.

Now, Craig would no doubt hate me for saying horrible things to Gabrielle. Dammit, if I had thought about him before I started the conversation, the question of what was wrong would never have passed my lips.

“Where the hell are you going?!”

I whipped back around and thrust my arm out behind me. “Back to Stefan and Devin!” I shouted. “You know, the two people who shelter me like a helpless child?”

Gabrielle tilted her head again, planting her hands on her hips. “Why? Because you know you can’t win this fight?”

“Gabrielle!” Craig. Great.

I didn‘t bother paying any attention to him. Neither did Gabrielle, thankfully.

“Fuck you!” I continued.

“Gabrielle, Juliet!”

“What?!” Finally, we both moved to look at the trio standing behind us. Craig stood a few steps behind me, and Bryan and Max were further beyond him.

A look of utter, disgusted terror was written across Craig’s face. He wasn’t looking at me, but over my shoulder at Gabrielle. His expression worried me. “Where’s Leila?” he asked.

What? My gaze swooped over to the last place I saw the toddler: underneath the table beside Gabrielle’s chair. But the spot was empty.

Craig’s worry became evident.

Leila was gone. Missing.

Gabrielle looked around, twisting her body in a three sixty motion as her eyes scraped the ground for her daughter. A loud, shrill gasp escaped her and her hands flew to her collar. “I -- I don’t know, Craig.”

Craig closed the gap between him and Gabrielle before I had time to blink. He grabbed her forearms tightly. “You lost our daughter?!” he screamed.

Fear wrote itself across Gabrielle’s face. She nodded her head twice.

An animalistic growl ripped from Craig’s throat. “You forgot about Leila! You let her walk away!” He yanked his hands away like she had a fatal plague.

“I didn’t mean to.” Gabrielle shook her head. “I mean, Juliet started fighting with me and I got distracted--”

“Shut up, Gabrielle!” Craig interrupted.

Perfect. She was pushing fault off on me, just because I started a fight with her. But I wasn’t the one who had a child to watch in the first place! Leila was Gabrielle’s daughter, her responsibility, not mine.

So, why on earth do I feel guilty about all this? I tugged my bottom lip between my teeth. Because I loved Leila to death, and I loved Craig, and the horror and anger written all over his face and actions both terrified me and set me on edge.

What if someone stole her? After all, she wasn’t even two yet -- she most certainly couldn’t fight back -- and she was the prettiest baby I had ever laid eyes on. Any sick psycho wandering around would be delighted to steal her of all the children present in the park.

The idea made my stomach threaten to revolt my salad, so I pushed it away the best I could.

I lowered my gaze, wrapping my arms around myself. Fuck. This was awful, terrible, and the guilty feeling refused to stop ravaging my insides.

An arm slipped around my shoulders, and I glanced up to see Max standing beside me, his eyes studying my face. I smiled lightly, but he didn’t buy the façade anymore than I did.

Swiftly, he bowed his head until his mouth was at my ear. “This isn’t your fault either,” he whispered. “Now cheer up.”

Cheer up?! I arched my eyebrows up at him. How could anyone in our little group cheer up while Leila Rose could possibly be in grave danger?

Realizing his mistake, he shook his head. “After we find Jellybean,” he corrected, keeping his voice low.

I glanced back at the others. Craig raked his hand through his hair, Gabrielle watched him with wary eyes, and Bryan stood on my other side, switching his gaze between Gabrielle and Craig, and Max and myself.

No one spoke.

I didn’t like the silence one tiny bit. We had to search for Leila, before she was too far away from find, or before she got picked up by the wandering pedophile I kept envisioning.

Bryan finally broke the quiet. “Shouldn’t we try to find Leila?”

Craig turned quickly, and nodded. He still appeared angry, but now he looked distracted. My heart gave a slow wrench in his direction. I could not put myself in this position; I couldn’t imagine anything like this happening to me.

I, of course, didn’t know what the love for a child felt like. The only thing I could compare it to was my love for Ghost and Kit Kat, and if one of them ran away, I would panic, then crawl under a rock and die.

The adoration Craig held for Leila was ten times that, if not more. It was easy to see that in how he acted with her and cared for her.

The exact opposite of how I saw Gabrielle with her.

I snorted. Yeah, Gabrielle. We were through. What little friendship we had before was gone. I never wanted to speak to her again, or have to feign that I enjoyed her presence ever again. Because I didn’t. Never had, and I certainly never would now.

“Craig,” I piped in, “I’ll search with you. Someone needs to stay here, though, in case someone who found her comes around or if she wanders back. Okay?”

Bryan raised his hand. “I’ll stay here.”

“I will, too,” Max agreed, releasing me from his embrace.

I regarded Gabrielle, as did everyone else. She looked at each of us, then shook her head, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“I’m going back to the bus.” She smoothed out the front of her shirt and slumped her shoulders forward. “I’m sorry, Craig, but… I can’t stay here, with you, anymore. I want to go home to Las Vegas.”

Craig shrugged, snorting. “I don’t care what you do, but Leila is staying on tour with me. I can’t trust you anymore.”

“Whatever.”

With that, Gabrielle grabbed her purse from the ground and stalked passed Craig without another look at him. She pushed between Bryan and me -- with an unnecessary shove against my arm -- and broke into a jog toward the trees concealing the street to the private parking lot.

I watched her disappear and sighed. Satan has left the building. Immediately, it felt easier to breathe now that she was gone.

Without saying another word, Craig grabbed my arm and started dragging me behind him as he headed to where the rest of the park visitors were located. I let myself be taken along roughly through the grass and around cherry blossom trees.

Silence bestowed us. For about four or five minutes, we hurried around, only speaking when we called Leila’s name or when Craig yelled if anyone had seen his daughter.

Several people gave us weird looks, others gave sympathetic ones. Most looked the other way, and no one said anything about seeing a little girl all on her own.

Finally, Craig said something.

“I’m sorry for anything Gabrielle said.” He peeked over his shoulder at me. “She’s horrible, just ignore her. I have been.”

Damn, that was… harsh.

I had been so sure the two still had feelings for each other, so what had gone downhill in such a short amount of time? Right in front of my face, no less!

Well… “What made you hate Gabrielle?” I asked, weaving to avoid a rampant Dachshund chasing a teenaged boy.

“I don’t hate her,” he answered. “I hate what she’s become. She’s made bad choices since Warped started, and I don’t want Leila to be around that anymore.” A visible shudder shook down his body. “But, now I don’t have to worry about that.”

I furrowed my brows. “What did she mean by ‘I’m going home to Las Vegas’?”

Craig rolled his eyes. “Gabrielle told me she was thinking about flying home the other day,” he said, sounding annoyed. “She’ll be going home for the rest of Warped, and I hope Leila will be safe from bad influence with just me.”

He hoped Leila would be safe from bad influence. What did he mean by that? And, while I was questioning everything, what exactly did these bad influences and bad choices entail?

I groaned. Never mind. It was none of my business.

Thankfully, the entire issue disappeared from my thoughts when Craig gasped loudly and came to a complete stop in the middle of the pathway.

My arm still clasped in his hand like a vice, I jarred to a halt two steps in front of him and spun to face him and the air of shock surrounding him.

“What?” I hissed.

He gestured forward with a nod of his head, and I looked to where he was signaling. A girl about our age was crouched on one knee in front of a crying, hysterical Leila beside a white bench.

“Leila!” I cried.

The girl snatched Leila off the ground in record timing, her hands securing themselves on the toddler’s torso, and positioned her on her hip. She stood and took four wide steps backward, curling her free arm around Leila’s body and turning herself so her body shielded the youngster.

An apology for scaring her drifted on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t speak. I was too captivated as I swept my gaze up and down the girl, the beautiful girl.

Light brunette hair hung down to the middle of her back and her eyes were the color of a storm cloud. She wore a long, form fitting yellow tee shirt, clinging to an hour glass waist that put mine to shame, showing off her flat stomach, and allowing her breasts to pour over the top.

Dark wash jeans stretched over her long, slender legs, and strapped black heels -- that looked a little Dominatrix -- showed off her red pedicure.

The girl patted Leila’s head very gently, pushing the soft, blonde locks away from her cherubic face, and looked Craig up and down. “Is this your daughter?” Her voice was smooth, melodic, like a song.

Craig remained silent.

I peeked at him from my peripheral vision and saw he was doing what any man with eyes and a penis would have done. He was staring at her, his tongue practically hanging out of his mouth. Hmph. I could only imagine what kind of problem his pants were having.

With a swift smack to the gut from me, he regained consciousness, took a long breath, and reached his arms out. His fingertips brushed Leila’s arm. “Leila, come here.”

Leila launched herself into her father’s arms, clutching herself close as she bawled. Craig coiled around her protectively. The anger that had been present melted away from his features. He kissed Leila repeatedly on her cheeks and forehead.

“Thank you so much” he whispered.

His voice was… shaking? Craig Mabbitt wanted to cry! Tears of my own sprung to my eyes.

If I hadn’t been sure before, I was not. There was no longer a friendship between Gabrielle and me, nor would there ever be ever again.

I didn’t care if she was the only other girl on this tour. I also didn’t care if the testosterone and inability to talk about anything girl related drove me insane.

Anyone who could lose their child and anyone who hardly cared enough to help find said child while the father was crying was no friend of mine.

“No need to thank me,” the girl said. “I just happened to be in the park when I heard Leila crying. She said she was lost and I wasn’t about to leave her alone.” She gave a sweet smile to Craig, then me. “I’m Mercy Fisher, by the way.”

Mercy Fisher? The name sounded familiar. “Call me Juliet.” I held my hand out and she shook it gently. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

With a swift, beautiful smile, Mercy turned to Craig and looked at him again. I saw her eyes inch over his entire body for the second time, her smile slowly fading.

Craig took his focus off of Leila and pointed it at Mercy. “I’m Craig, uh… Mabbitt.”

Instead of shaking hands, Craig threw an arm around her, pulling her smaller body flush against his. Mercy snaked her arms around Craig and Leila, hugging him back happily with a huge smile on her face.

I cocked my head. Something about their hug looked romantic and adorable. It sounded cliché, but it seemed that Mercy fit better in Craig’s arms than I had ever seen Gabrielle do so. They fit together.

They pulled away, and Mercy smiled cutely up at Craig. She was about three inches shorter than him, the perfect height to fit with him.

“Thank you,” Craig repeated. “I owe you.”

Mercy raised an eyebrow. “I know how you can repay me.”

X X X X

“What time is it?”

I glanced at my watch. “Seven fifty,” I answered, looking over at Max. “What time do you guys go on?”

“Eight.” Max leaned forward, peering around the corner of Arrow Hall and into the front parking lot. “Where the hell is Craig?”

I shook my head, shrugging my shoulder. “I don’t know.”

Now, instead of Leila, Craig was missing. He left with Mercy at the park, leaving Leila with me -- whom I subsequently pawned off on Devin and Stefan because I had work to do -- and no one could find him. He wouldn’t answer his phone, and he didn’t say where he was going, so…

Robert and Bryan were already waiting inside the venue. Max was to wait for Craig until he came back from wherever he was with Mercy, but hours and hours had passed.

I pushed away from the wall I was leaning against and moved to stand beside Max, looking around the corner as well.

I spotted someone jogging across the street. The person jumped up into the parking lot and ripped their way toward us.

“Is that him?” I whispered.

“Yeah.” Max sauntered out from where we stood and grabbed Craig’s shirt when he was within reaching distance. “You’re late.”

“I know, I know.” Craig waved his hand around, shaking his head. “I was busy with that girl.”

I pursed my lips.

The way his voice sounded spoke volumes, said things that he didn’t.

Craig is no longer a sexless man.