“Detain him,” Dickless yells, making my head jerk up, searching the narrow area for a new arrival. Would the attacker actually come back to the scene right now?
No. No, they wouldn’t.
I’m horrified to find he’s pointing to Darius, the man who was clearly doing everything he could to save Raina. Why would he need to be detained?
The security guys—who are fearful of their jobs, rightfully so—share glances, unsure of what they should do, but ultimately decide they don’t want to make the owner of one of the biggestmusic labels an enemy. They quickly advance on Darius, but before they can reach him, Nash and I step in front of them, blocking their path. Our determination is clear in our matching glares.
We need to do everything we can to protect our family right now, and that includes Darius. It would hurt Raina to find out he was arrested for trying to save her life.
This is ride or die territory.
“You ain’t touching him,” Nash growls, his cheeks flushed with anger. The security guards hesitate, wavering under our combined intensity. They struggle with the choice of angering either the owner of the record label or the band behind one of the most beloved musicians in the world. “He was saving her life when all you were doing was standing around with your thumbs up your asses!”
They eye D up and down, taking in his dark complexion, and it’s clear they’re letting bias creep into their decision. How hard is it to take in the circumstances playing out in front of them? It’s not that fucking hard.
In their moment of hesitation, Keaton quietly moves to kneel beside the medic and Raina, staring down at her with an unreadable expression. He reaches out hesitantly, his fingers grazing her face before holding her hand with a gentleness that tugs at my heartstrings.
“Stay strong, Peaches,” he murmurs to her unconscious form, his voice raw with emotion. “We need you.” He then turns to the medic and asks for updates on her condition.
Dickless glares at us, furious that we dare to defy him. “Arrest them too for obstruction of justice!” he threatens, but there’s an edge of desperation in his voice now. He knows he’s lost control of the situation.
“Go ahead!” Nash taunts. “They can arrest you while they’re at it.”
Dickless snarls something under his breath and takes a step back. It’s clear that he’s breaking under the pressure of his vulnerable house of cards tumbling in front of him.
Coming to a decision, they approach us, their hands grasping roughly at our arms, handcuffs rattling as they bind our hands behind us. It’s this time that actual cops show up, taking over and reaching for D.
“Get your hands off me,” Darius snarls, trying to break free to where he’s at. But he’s no match for the brutish officers and is quickly pulled away from Raina’s side. His eyes are aflame; a spark of defiance and outrage amidst the chaos.
Keaton’s eyes narrow with an intensity I’ve never seen before, his body tense like he’s about to lunge toward the guards at any second, but with one glance at Raina, his body deflates. His expression turns to one that begs us to understand—he can’t afford a fight right now, not when Raina needs him more.
Dickless simply stands there, a smug smile playing on his lips. “You ask me, it looks like he was trying to finish the job.” His laugh is unforgivingly cold as it echoes down the hallway.
Regardless of what he thinks, we all know Dickless isn’t interested in justice—only control. Seeing him standing there, his hands balled at his sides as he watches Raina’s body convulse beneath the medic’s steady compressions… it makes my skin crawl. This wouldn’t be happening if it wasn’t for him, if it wasn’t for his reckless pursuit of power and control.
The medic works diligently on Raina, her normally vibrant face ghostly, and I’m consumed with fear as I’m ripped away from her, shoved by the cop guiding me through the building to his car.
I twist around—practically walking sideways—so I can continue to stare at the woman I love, wishing to see her open her eyes. I watch her for as long as I can, and then I wish for laser vision to see through the walls.
Will I ever see her again?
Yelling from the hallway nudges me from the fitful nap I fell into. If only I wouldn’t feel judged for taking the stronger painkillers, but that’s all I need—for the next big headline splashed across every news outlet in the world to sayAttack On Raina Sends Her Spiraling Into Drugs Once More.
HIPAA laws don’t apply to celebrities. There’s always someone with access willing to sell the information if the price is right. And the price isalwaysright.
I swallow and wince at the pain. It’s like shards of glass ripping into the delicate tissue, creating new wounds each and every time. Over and over. All. Day. Long.
“Don’t tell me what the laws are; I want to speak to her doctor,” Dickless yells from the hallway. I flinch, my hand tightening around another, jarring them from their sleep.
Keaton’s head lifts from my bed, his fohawk with ice gray tips sticking out in all directions. He’s barely taken any time to shower since I’ve been awake, much less fix his hair. I almostwonder if any of them even took the time to get clean in the six days I was sedated.
His deep chocolate brown eyes desperately search me from head to toe, making sure I’m still here, still safe, stillalive. They’ve all been doing it every time they haven’t seen me in a couple of minutes.
Doze off, desperately search me top to bottom.
Go to the bathroom, desperately search me top to bottom.
Step into the hall, desperately search me top to bottom.
