“You going to ride me, baby?” I asked, my voice husky as all hell.
“No. I’m going to squish you first,thenride you,” he announced.
We hugged each other tightly for a while.
In that moment I knew that these snippets of time weren’t enough, and we had months and months of separation left.
The tour continued. The threat stayed in the back of our minds while we made sure Wren stayed safe.
Every concert was sold out.
We didn’t think anything would happen once we got abroad for the European stretch of the tour, because it would take a lot of resources and effort for someone to follow us there. The last three concerts in the States were nuts. The crowds were wild. We had to tighten the security even more, and then, somehow, on that last one before we’d fly out to London the next day, things went from bad to worse in an instant.
“I can’t believe this was it,” Wren told me as we were in the SUV on our way from the venue to the hotel.
James was in the passenger’s seat with Abi driving while Wren and I sat in the back.
Rico and Kamon were ahead of us. Their job was to secure the route from the garage into Wren’s penthouse suite. Somehow the timing sucked a bit, because our elevator to the correct floordinged only moments after the guys’. They walked toward his room while we waited by the elevator.
Rico opened the door and stepped in, Kamon behind him.
Then suddenly every hair on my body stood up, and I knew something was happening three seconds before we heard a gunshot.
In those three seconds, I pushed Wren back into the elevator that James was holding open as a security measure, and Abigail picked up the shift in me.
She ran forward, while James secured Wren with me, closing the doors and stopping the elevator there.
“What’s going on?” Wren asked, shaky as all hell as I crowded him into the corner with my bigger body. Before I had time to answer, his brain caught up. “There was a gunshot!”
“Yes there was, and the others are handling it,” I said calmly, hoping to project that onto him.
My brain was going through scenarios. James was on the phone with the police and then the front desk.
Wren started to push at my chest. “Ville, move. I need space.”
“No. You know the protocol.”
“I can’t fucking breathe!” Then again, the horror of what was going on hit him a second time. “Oh my God, the guys! Villemove!”
I barely swayed as he pushed me.
My phone dinged and I took it out. It was Abigail.
Kamon hit but stable. Suspect detained. Take Wren to your room.
I showed James the screen and he nodded tightly.
“Wren, stop pushing me,” I told him firmly. “We’re going to my room now. The cops are on the way. Everything is fine, but you need to calm the fuck down.”
I cursed at him so rarely, that it snapped him out of the panic he was feeling. He was still agitated, but who could blame him. The doors opened and James stepped out.
“Clear,” he said.
Something about it made Wren snort.
“Come on, you clown,” I told him and tucked him under my arm, turning us away from his room. Mine was luckily in the other direction.
It took several hours to get some clarity on what had happened.
