The Riot

Chapter 23. Purple Paint

A soft knock came at her door. It wasn't the heavy thud of Max or the sharp rap of Wolf. It was a rhythmic, musical cadence.

​Caspian.

​She opened the door. He was standing there with a tray- hot soup, bread, and a small glass of wine. He looked at her red-rimmed eyes and the phone in her hand.

​"He’s texting you," Caspian said. It wasn't a question.

​"He’s terrified, Caspian. S was in their beds. He marked Jax for death."

​Caspian walked into the room, setting the tray on the small desk. He sat on the edge of the bed, gesturing for her to join him. When she did, he didn't try to pull her close. He just sat in the silence with her.

​"Do you know why I don't let people in, Rayna?" he asked.

​"Because you're territorial."

​"Because every person you add to the inner circle is a potential point of failure," he said. "Jax wants to be a hero. He wants to 'hunt' a man who can walk through stadium walls and disappear into steam vents. That’s how people get killed. Real life isn't a music video. There is no triumphant third act where the band beats the villain."

​"So we just let him stalk them?"

​"No," Caspian said. "My team is already tracking the digital footprint of the note. We’ve hired a separate firm to shadow the Vanguard bus from a distance. They don't know it, but they have a four-man tactical team behind them at all times. I’m protecting them, Rayna. But I’m doing it my way. Secretly. Safely."

​Rayna looked at him, her heart hammering. "You didn't tell Jax?"

​"If I tell him, he’ll try to coordinate. He’ll try to 'help.' And a musician trying to help a tactical team is a liability," Caspian said. He finally reached out, his hand covering hers. His palm was warm, steady, and filled with a terrifyingly calm authority. "Trust the system, Rayna. Trust me. I have survived this for ten years. I have had four stalkers, two kidnapping threats, and a man who tried to poison my water in Prague. I am still here. And I am going to make sure you are still here, too."

​"He said you want me scared," Rayna whispered. "He said you’re using the danger to keep me here."

​Caspian’s eyes darkened, a flash of that lonely, wounded man from the loft appearing for a fleeting second. "Is that what you think? After everything?"

​"I don't know what to think," she cried. "Everything is overwhelming, noisy.."

​Caspian stood up, pulling her to her feet with him. He held her by the shoulders, his gaze locking onto hers with a magnetism that made the rest of the world fade away.

​"The noise is the enemy," he said. "Jax is the noise right now. The press is the noise. The stalker is the noise. I am the silence, Rayna. Choose the silence, its safe."

​He leaned in, his head mere inches from her ear, the intimacy was more profound than any physical act. It was a merging of wills. He was offering her a world where she didn't have to be afraid, but the price was her independence.

​"Stay on the bus," he murmured. "Don't reply to him. Let me handle it." And walked out, the door hissing shut and locking behind him.

​Rayna sat on her bed, the soup growing cold.

​Her phone buzzed again.

​JAX: Rayna, please. We’re in the parking lot of the Portland venue. We’re by the service entrance. Just come to the window. Look at me. I need to know you’re still in there. I need to know you haven't become one of them.

​Rayna walked to the tiny, tinted porthole of her suite.

​The bus had arrived at the Portland Veterans Memorial Coliseum. It was parked in the high-security "tunnel" under the arena. Twenty yards away, past a line of black-clad guards and a chain-link fence, she saw the Vanguard bus.

​Jax was standing by the fence. He was being held back by a guard, but he was looking toward the Obsidian bus. He looked small. He looked broken.

​Then, she saw something else.

​On the roof of the concrete overhang above Jax, a shadow moved. It was a man in a high-vis vest. He wasn't a guard. He was holding something- A long, heavy object.

​A camera? Or a rifle?

​Rayna’s heart stopped. She looked at her phone. She looked at the door.

​If she called Caspian, he would send the "Suits." They would move Jax, probably violently. They would secure the perimeter, but they wouldn't catch the man. He would just melt back into the walls, waiting for the next chance.

​If she went to Jax, she was breaking the perimeter. she was becoming the bait.

​Trust the silence, or join the noise?

​Rayna grabbed her violet cloak. She didn't use the main door. She remembered the utility hatch Wolf had mentioned- the one the techs used to run cables out of the back of the bus.

​She crawled through the narrow, grease-stained tunnel, her heart screaming in her chest. She dropped onto the cold concrete of the tunnel floor, hidden behind a stack of flight cases.

​She saw Jax. He was only ten feet away now, separated by the fence.

​"Jax!" she hissed.

​He spun around, his eyes widening. "Rayna? What are you doing? Get back!"

​"There’s someone on the roof!" she shouted, pointing upward.

​The shadow moved. The man in the vest stood up, looking down at them. He didn't have a rifle. He had a bucket.

​He tipped it.

​A deluge of thick, viscous purple paint crashed down, soaking Jax and the fence. It looked like blood in the dim light.

​And then, a voice echoed through the concrete tunnel- not a hiss this time, but a roar amplified by a stolen megaphone.

​"THE QUEEN BELONGS TO THE NIGHT! THE PEASANTS ARE JUST PAINT!"

​The man dove off the roof into a waiting laundry truck that was already speeding away.

​"Rayna!"

​Caspian’s voice boomed from the bus door. He was there in an instant, Max and three other guards flanking him. He looked at the purple-soaked Jax, the fleeing truck, and Rayna- standing in the open, exposed and trembling.

​Caspian didn't look at Jax. He didn't look at the paint. He walked straight to Rayna, his face a mask of such terrifying, cold fury that she instinctively stepped back.

​He didn't yell. He didn't even raise his voice.

​"You broke the perimeter," he said, and the words were like ice shards.

​"He was going to hurt them, Caspian!"

​"He was distracting you!" Caspian roared, finally losing his composure. He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the bus, ignoring Jax, who was trying to wipe the stinging paint from his eyes. "He wanted you out of the bus! He wanted to see if he could make you move! And you gave it to him! You showed him that Jax is your leash!"

​"He’s my brother!"

​"He’s your coffin!" Caspian snapped. He shoved her toward Max. "Get her inside. Weld the hatch. I don't care if she screams. She doesn't leave this bus until we’re in the next state."

​Max hauled Rayna back toward the black bus.

​"Rayna!" Jax screamed, his face a mask of purple slime. "Don't let him do this! Rayna!"

​The door of the Obsidian bus hissed shut. The biometric lock turned red.

​Rayna fell to the floor of the lounge, her breath coming in jagged, sobbing gasps. Thorin, Dante, and Wolf were standing there, their expressions a mix of pity and grim resignation.

​"He’s just trying to keep you alive, kid," Thorin said softly.

​Rayna didn't hear him. She looked at her hands- they were stained with the purple paint from the fence.

​She looked at the forward cabin where Caspian was shouting into his phone, ordering his team to hunt down the laundry truck. He was territorial. He was kind in the dark. He was her protector.

​But as the bus began to move, pulling away from the paint-stained Jax and the broken Vanguard, Rayna Lynn realized the truth.

​The stalker didn't need to break into the cage anymore.

​He had already won. He had turned her family into a threat, her protector into a jailer, and her life into a dramatic, tragic story.

​She sat in the crimson glow of the lounge, the silence of the bus ringing in her ears like a scream.

​She was safe. She was stable. She was protected.

​And she had never been more alone in her entire life.