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I glance at Emma and say, “I’m sorry” and then I shove her out of the way. More gasps come from around the room.
“Ash! What are you doing?” Emma grabs on to my arm and tries to pull me out of the way.
“Give her to me, Clay,” I say calmly, shaking Emma off.
“Ash, you need to leave her alone.” Emma sounds desperate, but I don’t even acknowledge her, my focus solely on the beautiful pained face of the girl standing in front of me. Clay gently hands her over and moves to stand next to Emma. Pulling on Avery’s elbow, I move her closer to the wall and away from prying eyes. Using my body as a shield, I block everyone out so she won’t see them when this is all over.
Placing her hand on my chest, I put one finger under her chin, and say, “Ava.” Remembering the name she gave me, and just me, her eyes fly open, and it’s green to blue. She’s still trembling from head to toe. I absolutely hate this haunted look in her eyes and I want to kill whoever put it there in the first place. I also now hate the color green.
“Ava,” I say again and wave two fingers back and forth between our eyes. I can see the recognition in her face and she understands what I’m doing. “Breathe with me.”
Tears drip down her cheeks leaving tracks in her makeup and as much as I want to kiss them away, I know right now I can’t touch her, at least not yet.
This breaks my heart. This panic attack is the worst one that I’ve seen yet.
As the seconds painstakingly tick by, the rise and fall of her chest slows, her face relaxes, the panic leaving, but the heartache of the situation remaining. Her fingers on my chest tighten around the lapel of my jacket as she leans into me and buries her face in my neck. Loosely, I wrap my arms around her, bringing her closer, and tuck my face into her hair. I don’t want her to feel trapped, but I so desperately need to hold her. She pulls her other arm in between us and snuggles in closer.
The trembling changes to shaking as more tears begin to fall. I can’t even imagine what it feels like to experience this, and for it to happen in front of a room full of people—this wrecks me. I want to hold her and protect her forever.
Moving my lips next to her ear, so only she can hear me, I whisper, “Listen, I’m gonna take my jacket off, wrap it around you, and then we’re leaving. I’m taking you home. Okay?”
She nods her head, sniffs, and then responds, “Okay.” Her voice is hoarse and it grates across my heart. Leaning back from her, I tilt her head up so I can look into those eyes of hers and smile. This terrible moment is passing and I already know she’s uncomfortable with the situation, but she is mine and I am hers. She needs to know this. Her hands move to wipe away the tears, while I pull my jacket off and wrap it around her shoulders.
“My girl,” I say, wrapping my hands around her head and tangling my fingers in her hair. She blinks three times, sniffs again, and then gives me a small one-sided smile. I return her smile with one of my own and lean down to kiss her forehead.
Together we turn around, but I keep her facing me so she doesn’t have to see all of the people in the hallway. I know how she feels about these moments and the less she remembers about it and who saw her like this . . . the better. Her eyes stay focused on mine.
There are at least fifteen to twenty people standing in the hall in complete silence, just staring at the two of us. Emma takes a step toward us and I instinctively tighten my grip on Avery and shake my head. Avery feels the nonverbal action and steps closer to me. Emma stops, and gives me a small reassuring smile. She understands. I don’t want anyone coming near her. I just want to get us out of this mess.
I look over at Mona, to the creepy guy standing next to her rubbing his jaw, and then back to Mona. My glare sharpens in on her and I say the only thing I can think about at this time.
“He’s fired. Immediately.”
Mona sucks in a huge gasp of air. Both of them begin to squirm and his face turns beet red.
“You can’t fire me. One, you don’t work for the label. Two, I don’t have any idea who you even are. Three, I didn’t do anything wrong!”
Emma turns around, stalks toward him, and slaps him directly across his face. Clay moves to stand behind her as this guy clutches his face in shock, and looks at her angrily.
“Let me tell you something, Scott! One, I told you on the stage that if you put your hands on her again you would have to deal with me. Two, you signed a contract and it explicitly states that under no circumstances are you to touch Avery Layne, ever! And three,” she looks back over at me and smiles, “If Will Ashton says you’re fired, then you’re fired!”
He pales as recognition sweeps in. “You’re Will Ashton?”
I raise my eyebrow at him.
Mona turns to face him and squares her shoulders. “I hired you as a favor to your mother, which I am regretting more by the second. You broke the contract, which is a physical assault on Ms. Layne, and as clearly you aren’t aware, Mr. Ashton here is a partner at the label, meaning you work for him, or should I say ‘did’?”
His eyes widen in disbelief as he looks at me, and mine narrow at him. Taking one more glance around the hall, I look down at Avery—it’s time to go.
“We’ll see you later,” I say to no one in particular, but to all of them as a whole.
On that note, I turn us around, take her hand, and begin walking toward the emergency exit. I pull my cell phone from the outside pocket and call my driver to come and get us at the northwest exit.
The air is cold tonight, but the sky is crystal clear. Even though we’re in the city, stars are shining through. Draping my arm over her shoulders to keep her close and warm, one of her arms wraps around my back and one settles on my stomach. I love it when she touches me.
Five minutes pass and the car pulls up in front of us. I open the door for her, she climbs in, and I slide in next to her, placing my hat on one knee. Neither of us has said a word yet, and as the car pulls away from the curb, I tell the driver to take us to my high-rise. She looks over at me and I watch her eyes as she scans my entire face. It feels like she is tracing me with her fingers. It feels intimate and I reach out to her again. She scoots up next to me as I tuck her in and she moves to hold my hand.
Looking down at our interlocked fingers, my thumb rubs over the back of her hand. I loved her hands before, but now I love them even more. What they are capable of doing, the music that they can create . . . I’m spellbound.
