Ben stiffened behind her. “Move, Rose. Now.”
She didn’t have time to respond before he was pushing her forward, angling his shoulder around her to make their way along the edge of the stage. In her periphery, Rose saw the women on the platform moving quickly, white fabric flashing as they descended onto the grass. The murmurs of the audience rose to a panicked hum, the air thick with thinly constrained alarm.
Before Ben and Rose could clear the stage, the bellow of a male voice rose from the opposite side of the park, followed by a feminine cry of alarm. The women shifted as one, then the shifting became pushing. Rose watched in horror as two vice officers climbed the stage and withdrew their batons, their focus more on the women than the mashers causing havoc along the edges. Ben stumbled forward and pushed against her as the crowd listed and shoved her toward the unforgiving wood of the platform.
Ben wrapped his arm around her waist from behind, pulling her flush against his chest and turning her so his body absorbed the impact. With a grunt, Ben pushed off the platform with his free hand and shifted position until he was by her side, gripping her palm in his. He raised his head and looked over the crowd, presumably for an avenue of exit, but before they could move, a shot rang out.
Hundreds of women cried out as though they shared one pain and panic, then scattered. Rose floundered as Ben lurched, propelled by someone slamming into him from behind. “Stay with me.” Ben gripped her hand tighter. “Don’t let go.”
Together they edged away from the stage, Rose tucked against Ben’s side as she responded to his wordless commands, the push of his shoulder or the pull of his hand. When they reached the edge of the park, they stopped at the top of a short set of stairs leading down to the sidewalk. Ben gripped the railing as he huffed for breath. Rose whirled to face him, dropping his hand. “Abby,” she called over the din. “Where is she?”
Ben scowled, as though the chaos was somehow Rose’s fault. “I’m trying to see her, but we can’t stay here.”
“We can’t just leave her. She could get hurt.”
His knuckles gripped around the handrail went white with strain. “She knows what to do—”
A growled curse cut off his words as a masher separated from the crowd, his eyes fixed on Rose. She sucked in a breath and regretted it; the stench of alcohol and cigarettes surrounded him like a cloak. The man’s lip curled as he looked her over. “Yer too pretty to be one o’ these bitches,” he growled, flashing a broken row of yellow teeth. He extended a palm and curved his fingers in, beckoning her forward. “Come here, pretty thing. I’ll keep you safe.”
Her jaw gaped as she froze, her pulse pounding too fast to react.
“Step off, yeah?” Ben stepped in front of her, his hand holding her forearm. “We’re leaving.”
“Oooh, is that how it is?” The man’s cruel laughter made her shiver.
“It is.” Ben’s voice was smooth and low, a beast kept at bay. His fingers flexed on Rose’s arm, as though reassuring her with his touch.
Two women running past bumped into the man, and his lips curled into a ferocious growl. “Yer gon’ let this coolie take you home, bitch?”
Rose didn’t understand the word he used, but judging by Ben’s flinch and the immediate spread of his shoulders, the masher had said something unforgivable. “Back away,” he growled, so low Rose wondered if the sound reached the man’s ears.
The man lurched forward with surprising alacrity for someone of his size and level of intoxication. Ben dodged the blow, but Rose gripped his arm as he moved. The unconscious need to keep him close, to stay in his protection, overwhelmed common sense. The masher stumbled, pausing for only a moment before swinging a meaty fist towards Ben. He dodged, but not enough, as the blow drove into Ben’s shoulder, knocking him backwards. Ben stared at her, lips parted and momentarily weightless, before he tumbled down the stairs, landing with a sickening thump on the sidewalk. The man spat at Ben’s inert form before he stormed into the dispersing crowd.
Rose rushed down the half dozen stairs to his side, her heart frozen in her chest.Please be well, please be well, please—
Ben attempted to push himself up to sitting but fell back and gripped his right shoulder, his face twisted into a grimace.
“Where are you hurt?” Rose knelt by and reached a trembling hand toward him.
“My shoulder.” He turned his torso and his face blanched. “It’s fine, but we need to get out of here.”
“Let me help you.” After a beat, Ben reached for her outstretched hand with his uninjured arm, allowing her to guide him to standing. His arm hung at an otherworldly angle from his shoulder, as though it were made of clay and a child had pulled the limb too hard. Her stomach lurched. “We need to get you help.”
“I’m fine,” he muttered through a clenched jaw, dots of perspiration appearing along his upper lip. “We need to get you—”
“Christ, what happened?” Abby rushed forward with her curls bursting around her face, Garrett trailing just behind.
“It’s nothing, but we need to get you out of here.” Ben’s twisted expression told them the truth about his pain, and Garret looked to Rose with pleading eyes.
“It was my fault.” Rose’s chin wavered as she spoke. “I wanted to be closer to the stage, and Ben—”
“Let’s get you to Cass, she’ll know what to do.” Garrett took Ben’s good elbow and pulled him forward, stepping over discarded signs and around the people still lurking in the park, the vice officers looking on with smug expressions. It appeared the men who caused the commotion had found other entertainment, and Mrs. Vanderbilt had long since departed.
An ache took hold of Rose’s throat, pulling it tight. A group of drunk men with nothing better to do than terrorize them had destroyed their efforts in a matter of minutes. How often did people get hurt? How many feared attending because of the potential for violence?
By the time they reached 138 Willow, Ben’s face had gone from deathly white to a sickening shade of gray-green. He’d stopped scowling and instead wore a dead-eyed stare as he shuffled up the stairs to Abby’s apartment.
Abby and Rose pushed Ben through the door and maneuvered him to the sofa where he collapsed, Cass rushing to their side. “What happened?” she gasped as she gripped Abby’s hand, her eyes passing over her lover as though assessing her for injuries.
