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last part of the sentence as I look around Barrette’s shoulder to see several teen girls running this way.

“Huh?” Alden replies. “Oh nothing, but you two have fan girls at twelve o’clock.” I inform nodding in the direction of the fans, both men whip their heads around and instantly make a dead bolt run around the front end of Alden’s bus with me fast behind. The minute I clear the door Barrette shoves the door closed, at that point Alden makes quick work of slamming the dead bolt into place only a split second later.

Having seen their reaction to the fans I can’t help but laugh, both men look absolutely terrified and definitely making the snap decision to not go outside anytime soon.

 â€śIs something funny to you?” Alden grumbles up at me from where he’s slumped down at the bottom of the door, I give my Cheshire cat impersonation before replying.

“Yeah, Barrette Green, and Josh Alden are terrified of girls! I think it’s hilarious!” I reply giving a menacing laugh, without missing a beat Alden looks up at Barrette.

 â€śTrust you to find Bonnie Parker’s descendant who just so happens to be equally as evil as her grandmother.” Alden growls at Barrette, who looks down at the country star.

 â€śOh hush, your just jealous you got married and don’t have a chance in hell.” Barrette replies, what is it with men and getting married? Why do they all have to pull out a ring? To me the whole thing seems pointless; spend as much money as you can on a flashy ring when the only real purpose of said ring is so the woman can show it off to her friends to prove how spoiled she is. Then you get hitched and suddenly all his problems become her problems and in reverse, why can’t people just decide that they found the person they want to remain with and stay faithful to them without the ring, the wedding and all that jazz?

“Beer?” Alden offers once he’s back on his feet and able to get to the fridge tucked a few feet away in the kitchenette. “Sure.” Barrette replies just as I’m once again slumping down beside him on the couch. There are plenty of seats open around me yet I choose this one, I’ve got to break this habit. “Yes please.” I sigh, I could really use something more than a beer but the hoppy beverage will do for now. Alden returns to the living room a moment later handing over the offered drinks before he takes a seat in the chair across from us. “Miss. Parker-

“Alden; with all due respect, if you’re gonna call me by my last name, drop the miss. I know you were brought up with respect but I don’t ride well with the whole formality thing.” I interrupt having enough with Barrette’s manager and friends calling me Miss. Parker.

“Alright then, Parker, if you know what is going on with Barrette, then start talking?” Alden says, with the question out on the table I realize why Barrette insisted on riding with me out here to the fair grounds. Barrette knew by the way I flew into the parking lot that I drive like a maniac and that I have had formal training with defensive driving. He also knew Alden would be here before his own tour bus would. Therefore his plan this whole time was to introduce me to Alden so that both men could get a better idea of whether I can be trusted or not.

“As much as I’d just love to spill my life story a second time today, I’m not going to. For Barrette’s safety its better that fewer people know exactly what is going on. Devon Morgan cannot be stopped by police, I’m not the police. In fact I’m worse, police have rules and regulations to follow, I don’t have rules which makes me the last person on earth that you want hot on your trail.” I inform Alden, he cracks an amused smirk at Barrette. Alden is such a cocky singer; he doesn’t believe a word that I’m telling him!

 In a flood of anger I slam my beer to the small cup holder table to my left that separates the couch from the kitchen counter. Stomping to my feet I walk to the tour bus door, fling open the lock, and shove the door open. There are about fifteen fan girls and two men standing at the door stalking the place like wolves on an injured deer. The entire group has been knocking on the door since the moment we locked them out.

“Ya’ll shouldn’t be back here right now; I’m going to ask you one time to leave before I call security. Whoever is still here will be arrested for trespassing onto private property and harassment.” I warn.

All threats are true, they would be arrested for those things but I’m not calling security I’m just trying to get to my car. There’s a startled grumbling that goes around before everyone starts back towards the lawn they charged in from. One man in particular stands out to me, he’s about six foot three and is wearing a green camo printed combat uniform with a patch on the arm telling me he is a high ranking officer.

 â€śSergeant.” I call out to the scruffy brown haired guy, he turns around and looks at me seeming plenty furious that he was sent away. I signal him to come back over here, and he does showing signs of calm and understanding why I called only him to return to the tour bus.

 â€śHey, Bo, and Luke Hazard! Get out here, there’s a Marine who wants to meet you! The wolves are gone now!” I shout into the tour bus, both men inside and the marine standing beside me laugh at the fact I just referred to them as the Duke’s of Hazard.

As both southern men are exiting the bus to introduce themselves to the sergeant outside I am unlocking the Mustang’s trunk. I’m looking for one item in particular that will prove my case to Barrette, sifting through the contents I realize that I really need to clean out my trunk.

Car part, car part, Dirt bike part, quad part, ammo casings, empty ammo box, fast food wrapped, more miscellaneous trash.

“Ah, there it is.” I mutter to myself reaching for the black aluminum box that has the proof I need to show these two arrogant singers that I am the only person who can stop Devon.

 Just as I’m reaching for the box I sense someone watching is me, looking to the street first I notice that there is a black Escalade parked across the street. The window on the driver’s side is rolled down, and Andrew is sitting there with his partners in crime, Marty and, Jackson, all three are watching me like a hawk.

 â€śSeriously?” I growl, Barrette looks my way when he hears the venomous tone in my voice.  Josh finishes up his autograph then follows Barrette’s gaze towards the vehicle I’m looking at.

“Again?” Barrette rumbles, I don’t think he realizes it’s me they want to lure out and not him, all three men in that vehicle know that as long as I’m here they will not be able to get close enough to Barrette to kill him.

 â€śBarrette, Josh, get back inside the tour bus, lock the door and stay there. Call security over, I’ve got this.” I warn both men as I shove the black box into Barrette’s chest.

“What are you gonna do, sweetheart?” Alden challenges me in such a way that he is trying to be little me, he still thinks I’m just some fan girl posing as the person who can save Barrette.

The devilish smile that finds my face has Barrette stepping back a little even though he should know by now that I’m not going to harm him.

“I’m gonna go jump on the freeway and total Andrew’s car; and then I’m gonna head home grab some things I’m going to need for this mission impossible. If you ladies get scared, feel free to call.” I say snagging one of my of my business cards from the trunk and slapping it into Alden’s chest, he grunts at the impact.

With anger still boiling in me over Josh’s words I fire up the mustang and rev the engine to a point it’s almost deafening. Looking in my side mirror I see that all three men standing outside the tour bus are cringing at the sound. I leave two of the arrogant men with the smell of burnt tires, hopefully that luxurious smelling smoke will keep them remembering that women can be just as dangerous as any man can be, if not more so.

Andrew makes an illegal U turn in front of traffic a split second after I go curb hopping off the sidewalk. Both of us make a straight line aim for the freeway wasting no time in taking this chase to a whole new level.

Once on the freeway I slow my pace down to about a hundred miles an hour, graciously allowing Andrew to get right up on the bumper of my car.  I will be nice and give him the adrenaline he needs to think he’s going to win this. I give him such leeway while fidgeting with the dials on the radio so that it will play the cassette in the tape deck. It’s a mixed tape I made a few years back with all sorts of rock songs on it, the one it’s playing first however is one of my two theme songs. Ozzy Osbourne, Hellraiser. “Ready, set, go.” I say with a bitter happiness as I reach to the shifter, in a motion as natural as breathing I screech away from Andrew’s car. The chase has begun!

As I drive I cannot help think that the song currently playing is really my number one theme song, it’s arrogant to say but it’s true.

I’m living on endless road, around the world for rock and roll, sometimes you feel so tough, but I still aint had enough I keep saying that it’s getting to much. But I know I’m a liar! Feeling alright in the noise and the life but that’s what lights my fire! Hell raiser! Good old Ozzy Osbourne he definitely knows the life of the outcast and the down trodden rebels.

My pounding heart suddenly becomes steadier; the smell of tobacco mixed with Bourbon becomes thick in the car blowing at me from the passenger’s seat. It’s easy for me to know who is riding shot gun with me I know I am invincible and I am about to prove as much!

Andrew remains nipping at my heels as we both weave in and out of traffic heading towards Azusa canyon, a gorgeous canyon road with many hiking trails, a river that I spent a few summers playing, there isn’t much in the way of trees but it’s a good place to go mudding on the weekends after it’s rained. That is if you plan on losing your car to the mud, which is exactly what Andrew is about to be doing today, except he doesn’t know that yet.

The drive to the canyon off ramp is faster than even I imagined it would be going at the speed I am but I can’t object, the sooner I end this chase the sooner I can get home and retrieve what I need to survive the next months it will take to stop Devon Morgan.

Both my sixty five classic and the soon to be modern day mud bucket zip down the off ramp blowing through a red traffic signal angering many drivers by cutting them off when they had the right to go.

Looking ahead of me I realize that this road has way more stop lights than it did six years ago when I was out here last. Thankfully the people around here are mostly teenagers hanging out at the little outlet stores which lessens the traffic on

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