"Staffan!" She sobbed his name out this time, willing herself to run faster but the few feet that separated them seemed like a huge gaping cliff that she could never cross – not without his help. Saffi knew Staffan had heard her but he still didn't look her way. Instead, he nodded at his security personnel while talking to Bob, who immediately shook his head.
Staffan spoke again, and this time Bob became stoic looking.
"Staffan!" She was just a step away this time, and she reached out, her hand shaking, only to find the entire security force blocking her away, a grim-faced Bob appearing behind them.
Saffi couldn't believe what was happening.
"Bob?" she asked shakily.
"I'm sorry, H. The boss says you're not to approach him while he's … " He swallowed.
"Bob, you must have misunderstood," she whispered. "Please, Bob, I just need to talk to him."
He shook his head.
"Bob, please."
"Don't make me say it, H. Just let things lie low."
Dread skittered across her spine, but she still forced herself to meet Bob's gaze. "Make you say what?"
Bob was the first one to look away. "The boss says you can approach him if you're willing to … " He suddenly cursed. "Don't make me say it, H."
"Bob, please, I need to see him, I'll do anything---"
"He says you can get in but only if you're willing to do it with him … and the other girl."
Her mind reeled, the vicious reality behind those words making her heart ache even worse than her broken ribs. This was a test. This was Staffan pushing her away. This was another risk she had to take.
She closed her eyes, praying for strength, surrounding herself with the warmth of the memories she shared with Staffan. When she opened her eyes, she was able to smile at Bob. "Take me there then."
Bob cursed once more. "Are you serious? I'm not kidding---"
"Neither am I," she said firmly. When she'd get to his dressing room, Staffan would be waiting for her. He wouldn't be doing anything to the girl. He would listen to her, and everything would be all right again.
Realizing that she was not going to budge on this, Bob reluctantly ordered his security team to let her through. "This is not going to go well, H," he muttered as they entered the backstage area. He stopped walking when he noticed how much difficulty she had moving. "Are you okay?"
She nodded, not knowing that her face had gone white with the pain she was forced to endure with every step she took. She supposed she needed to see a doctor right away, but this – what she could have with Staffan – was more important than a few broken ribs.
"I just had a little accident. You know how clumsy I am," she lied.
Bob reluctantly resumed walking. "You will regret this, H. It's not too late to turn back---"
"It will be fine, Bob." She added simply, "I love him."
Bob wanted to kill himself after that. "H, listen to me. This is not what you want to see. He's in a black mood for some reason and---"
They stopped in front of Staffan's dressing room door. "Bob," she said very softly, "Be honest with me. When you see Staffan and me together, did you ever think I was special to him?"
The optimism shining in Saffi's gaze was almost ethereal, and he mentally cursed his employer for doing something that was sure to take those stars out of Saffi's eyes. This girl was special---in every way, a breath of fresh air that no evil could pollute.
Unable to deny the truth, not when Saffi was looking at him so expectantly, Bob admitted grudgingly, "Yes, you do seem special to him." He frowned then, adding warningly, "But tonight's different. He's gone crazy."
"He doesn't want to get hurt again after what happened. I know that. We all know that, and I'm willing to wait until he's ready to trust again." She smiled at him. "Wish me luck?"
"I'll even give you my lifetime's worth if it will help, H," he said as he slowly opened the door.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped past Bob.
"Staffan---" Her voice broke down.
No, please, no, this couldn't be real. It couldn't.
But it was.
Staffan was only wearing his pants, his chest laid bare, shirt thrown on the floor---together with the rest of the other girl's clothes. She was moaning softly in Staffan's arms, obviously in the throes of pleasure as Staffan fucked her with his fingers.
His head twisted over his shoulder, his smile blindingly beautiful but now it didn't leave her warm. It made her cold instead, and she limped back from the sight of it, clutching her side as her entire body ached in pain at what he was doing.
"Care to join us, H?"
She shook her head wildly. "Stop it, Staffan---" To her surprise, he did stop, but when he turned around, Staffan slowly brought his wet fingers to his mouth and sucked them dry.
Saffi moved another step back, her side hitting the door as she stumbled and twisted halfway to avoid looking at Staffan. She cried out, that split-second contact between the door and her ribs sending a wave of shattering pain to her body. Even so, it was nothing compared to the hurt that Staffan was inflicting on her – was still inflicting with every second he allowed the other girl to stay in the room with them.
"What's wrong, H? This should be normal procedure for you."
"No. It's not. So stop it. Leave her." She covered her face with her hands, not wanting to see anything. But Staffan was suddenly there, forcibly pulling her hands down. Eyes open again, she couldn't help seeing him half naked---and seeing the other girl completely bare.
"Pretending to be shy, baby?" he jeered, his skin crawling at utter loathing with how great an actress she was. How could he believe her hurt over what she had seen when she could do the same to him with Carson?
"Staffan, I love you."
"I love you, too, baby, and I love her, too. We're going to love each other so fucking hard tonight it will be a night you'll never forget." And then he was walking back to the other girl, leading her to the couch and pulling her down with him. She fell onto his lap with a giggle.
Saffi covered her mouth as a silent scream of agony escaped her, and her body started to shake in bewildered pain and jealousy as Staffan, his gaze never leaving hers, started to play with the other woman's flesh, fingers tracing the lines of her sex before sinking into her.
The other girl's moan was a knife into Saffi's heart.
"Stop this. I don't care why you're doing this but stop this, please---stop it this moment and I'll forgive---"
"Forgive?" Staffan repeated coolly.
She froze at the strange note in his voice. It almost sounded like hatred.
"You forgive? You're forgetting yourself, H. You're just my groupie --- a woman who's proud to call herself my slut. There is nothing to---"
She didn't wait for what else he had to say, knowing that Staffan was right. Outside, she pushed past a frowning Bob and an anxious-looking Alan, her heart so leaden with hurt she couldn't even cry.
She finally got what she wanted.
She was no longer a fan girl but a bona fide, true blue, 100% genuine groupie.
Chapter Eleven
@saffi_m, Twitter:
@JRaybourne I miss you.
The commotion outside his dressing room was fucking hard to ignore, but Staffan did his best – until he realized it wasn't Saffi causing it but someone he wanted to beat into a bloody pulp.
"Fuck you, Staffan Aehrenthal, come out and face me like a man!"
It was the goddamn prick. Alan Carson. The man who took his Saffi away.
He managed a smile for the girl he had taken to his dressing room, whose name he had already forgotten and whose touch still left a bitter taste in his mouth. "I'm afraid there's trouble outside. Would you do me a favor and stay here until I come back?"
She nodded, stretching on the couch in an obvious attempt to seduce him.
Staffan forced himself to keep a steady pace as he walked out of the room, but the moment he saw Alan Carson waiting for him at the hall, surrounded by the other backup dancers, Staffan immediately charged for him.
One punch was enough to send Alan flying.
The other man coughed out blood, and the sight was surprising enough to momentarily get rid of the rage-filled haze that blinded Staffan. He fucking hadn't hit the other man that hard to have him coughing out blood, dammit.
Even though he was near to exploding with the urge to kill the other man, Staffan clenched his fists in an effort to keep himself still. "There's nothing we need to fucking fight about, Carson. I'm done with … " Saying her name – even if it was not her real one – was like acid on his tongue but he made himself speak. "I'm done with H. She's all yours if you want my leftovers."
Staffan was stunned to see Carson turn almost purple in rage, launching himself towards Staffan with a howl. Easily dodging Carson's flailing fists – the fucking idiot hit like a girl – he use one quick upper cut to knock the man back to the ground.