Lucas takes the ramp to the departure terminal. A bunch of people are standing at the entrance of the building. When theyspot the car, they lift cameras to their faces and aim them in our direction.
My heart drops to my stomach. The paparazzi found us.
“Those slimy fuckers.” Lucas slams a palm on the steering wheel.
“How did they know I’d be here?” I hold my hand up to conceal my face.
“They’re snakes. They find these things out.” He pulls the car over to the curb and stops. “I hope you can run fast and get to your gate,” he says with no sympathy.
Panic pinches my skin. “You’re not leaving me here, are you?”
“Don’t you have a plane to catch?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Then you better hurry,” he suggests.
I look out the window at the people surrounding the car and then back at Lucas. “If I go in there, they’ll know where I’m heading. I won’t have any privacy on my vacation.”
He gives a nonchalant shrug. “Not my problem.”
My heart races. My breathing grows choppy. I’ve used up all my lifelines. Lucas isn’t helping me anymore.
Oh God. This is it. I have to walk out there.
Lenses press against the windows. Flashes of light blind me. With a shaky hand, I try to unlatch my seatbelt. I keep missing the button with my fumbling fingers. After multiple attempts, a large, warm hand covers mine. I glance at Lucas’ frowning face.
“Leave it. I’m getting you out of here. Okay?”
I nod, my throat too clogged with unshed tears to speak.
Claudia is probably worried where I am, so I send her a quick text.
Me:Don’t wait for me. I’ve left the airport. The paparazzi found me.
A moment later she replies:Are you okay? I’m heading back to my apartment. I’ll meet you there.
Me:I’m fine, don’t worry. I’ll call with details of where I’m staying as soon as I can. Talk soon x
I send another text to my mother so she doesn’t worry.
Lucas quickly pulls out onto the street. “I should hit these fuckers for getting so close to my car,” he grumbles. As the car veers away, the paparazzi jump out of his way.
He pulls into the traffic. Cars honk at him for cutting them off. I clutch white-knuckle tight to the edge of the seat, praying we don’t get into an accident.
“Where do you want to go?” he asks.
Darren is probably still in my apartment. I can’t go back there. The thought of seeing him makes me sick. I wonder if he’s getting this much attention. He’s the captain of the New York Dragons; surely they’re hounding him too. Hopefully, they’re showing what a dirty, cheating worm he is. I could stay with my mother or Claudia, but if the paparazzi know my every move, I’m sure it won’t take them long to find me there too.
I sigh. “There’s no place I can go where they won’t find me,” I say with defeat. I want to curl into a ball and fall into a dark hole. Maybe then I’ll get some peace.
Lucas gets back onto the freeway. He’s going faster than the speed limit, frequently changing lanes and glancing in the rearview mirror. After a couple of minutes, he slows down. He must know no one is following us.
“Where were you headed?” he asks.
“Bora Bora.”
“Nice.”
