Chew. Snap. Pop.
Sadie looked like she had just heard the sound of shattering glass – in speakers.
“Cheap, shallow, no-good slut,” Sadie sneered.
“I guess I am a slut.” As Sadie started to laugh, Saffi added quietly, “And you can’t make me feel ashamed about it because there’s nothing more beautiful for me in this world than being in Staffan’s arms and giving him pleasure.”
When the younger girl looked at her, head inclined to the side, gazing at Sadie as if she was a strange and disgusting insect, her calm tone saying without words how she wouldn’t stoop to Sadie’s level even though her barb was below the belt---Sadie knew she had lost.
This was no ordinary groupie in front of her – if she even was one from the start.
This girl, young as she was, was every inch a f**king lady, too beautiful and too kind for someone like Sadie to ever bring down. Sadie had a feeling that not even the world’s most evil bitch could take this girl down. The only thing – the only person – who could make this girl beg was the same person that had put those f**king stars in her eyes.
Saffi heard Staffan move, pushing his chair away as he got to his feet.
All her bravado suddenly left her.
Oh dear Lord, what had she said? That was not at all the way groupies spoke. She had been too emotional, and Staffan didn’t do emotion – not after what Chloe had done to him. Was Staffan going to tell her it was over then? Unable to bear the thought of Staffan breaking things off with her in front of everyone, Saffi mumbled an incoherent excuse before running away.
Staffan couldn’t breathe as he watched Saffi run away, fear of the way she was breaking the barriers around her heart freezing his limbs. In fact, he hadn’t really been breathing ever since he heard Saffi say the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to him in his life.
A thousand things went through his mind in that second, and all of those thoughts were brought out by fear. He was f**king paralyzed by it.
Not again.
Goddammit – he didn’t want to open himself to hurt again. But that was exactly what Saffi was forcing him to do with every little thing she said or did.
“Staffan.” Constantijin’s voice was hard. “If you’re not going after her now, it will be over between you.”
He turned to his friend clumsily. “I know that.” Yanna, he saw, was crying. His heart clenched. If Yanna felt bad enough to cry, how much worse was it for his Saffi?
His heart clenched harder at how his unconscious had been calling her his all along.
His Saffi.
But she wouldn’t be like that for long if he didn’t go after her now.
Staffan broke into a run.
Ah Saffi March. You really are good for my heart.
And this time Staffan acknowledged that it wasn’t just because she gave him a f**king cardio workout practically every day.
Chapter Ten
Subject: Membership updates
5 new members, 1 unsubscribed
Saffi March stated (none) as reason for leaving
It took a while for Saffi to find her way out of the venue, with her tears blinding her and her mind numb with pain and heartbreak.
She needed some time on her own, just so she could get her wits back and figure things out. That Staffan hadn’t said anything – anything at all –had hurt, but if she was honest – it wasn’t entirely unexpected. Constantijin Kastein had warned her, after all.
But God – how far did Staffan intend to push her away before he’d finally realize she wasn’t going anywhere without him? She wiped the tears away from her eyes, wishing for a moment she really was a G – one who didn’t give a shit about what other people thought, didn’t get into stupid fights with advertisers, and – most importantly of all – one who cared more for Staffan’s dick than his heart.
Saffi finally found her way to the parking lot at the back. The street across it would be her easiest way to get a cab. She’d go back to the hotel and stay there until it was time to watch the concert. She shouldn’t be here while Staffan had his stupid date with another fangirl.
The thought made her stumble, and tears flooded her eyes once more. Gs don’t cry, she reminded herself sternly. She had to get a better hold of herself if she wanted what little of the weekend was left to be perfect.
I’m going back to the hotel, have a nice beauty sleep, and when I wake up everything will be good again, Saffi told herself with a firm nod. Or at least that was the plan until she heard Alan Carson’s pain-threaded voice from the edge of the parking lot, followed by the unmistakable sound of punches being thrown.
Saffi detoured, following the sound. She swallowed back a gasp at the sight of Alan being thrown to the ground as his heavyset father, Andrew, loomed over him. His jowls shook as he raged, “Are you a f**king faggot or what? Answer me!”
Andrew kicked his son with such force that Saffi was sure he must have broken Alan’s ribs.
“I’m not,” Alan groaned out, white-faced with pain.
“If I f**king find out who’s made you into a goddamn fag, I’ll kill him. I’ll have him cut into pieces and burn them one by one in front of you.”
Looking at Alan, Saffi knew the fear in his eyes wasn’t for himself. It was for Donovan.
Unable to bear standing aside and just do nothing, Saffi ran to them, in time to receive the full brunt of Andrew’s kick as she threw herself over Alan. She whimpered at the pain, never being physically hurt this much. She had a feeling that kick had broken at least one rib, and for a moment the world swam around her.
“What the f**k?” Andrew gripped her shoulder hard, enough to make her gasp at the added pain. He forced her to turn around, stumbling back with an astonished scowl. “Sapphire March?”
She could fear Alan stiffening behind her and she blindly fumbled for his hand, squeezing it for reassurance. The action attracted Andrew’s attention. His narrowed-eyed look gave Saffi an idea and when he looked back at her, she knew what to do.
“Please don’t hurt him anymore, Mr. Carson,” she whispered. She was not an exceptionally good actress, but she also knew how people saw her – especially people who had been around her all her life. Andrew was one of those people, and he had been like everyone outside her family, thinking she was too smart for her own good, too weird, and too naïve – someone who just didn’t have it in her to lie.
“What’s it to you?” Andrew barked, but Saffi saw his gaze had already turned calculating.