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“Just hold me, Jake. I want to feel safe.”
He brought one hand to the back of her head and wrapped his other arm tight around her waist. He was shaking too from the horror of watching her being dragged away, knowing she might be hurt and he was too far away to do anything. He thought he might never be able to leave her side again. “You’re safe, Rie. No one’s going to hurt you.”
She was breathing easier now, one hand tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m pissed off. They were my favourite shoes. Someone is going to pay for that.”
30. Danger
When the driver coasted into Collins Street, Jake knew they had another problem. There was a crowd of media with cameras and microphones waiting outside the Luxotel driveway, ready to descend on them the minute they pulled up. Shit.
The driver said, “Mate, want me to keep moving?”
Jake wanted him to transform into a bloody tank and blast the problem away. He wanted to keep Rie tucked into his side and get her to safety, and never feel so washed in fear and wrung of hope again. Watching while Rie was attacked, not knowing if he could stop it was worse than any panic attack he’d ever had because it was real, not an imaginary threat, and because someone he cared for might’ve been hurt.
He smoothed his hand down her back. She’d gone limp against him. “Yeah. Give them the slip. We’ll find another hotel to hide out in.” Ten minutes later, they pulled in to the quiet drive of The Mercury, and Jake helped Rielle out, holding her hand as they made their way to the reception desk.
He asked for discretion and a suite and got them in swift order. All the way to the room, she kept a tight hold on his hand, her fingers threaded through his. She was still trembling and there was a jagged hyper-vigilance in her gaze; her eyes flitting sharply around, on the lookout for more trouble. Given what she’d just been through, she was coping well.
It struck Jake how resilient she was. Her strength and capability having nothing to do with her armour, and unrelated to her tough girl act, instead coming from her very core. Thinking about it produced a kind of awe in him, and a corresponding shame for having made an issue of how she managed her appearance. Was it the book or the book jacket that was more important?
In the suite, she released his hand, but didn’t move away from him.
“Will you hold me?”
He gathered her against his body, chasing her deep sigh with one of his own. Now they were safe. He’d have held her forever but she broke away and headed for the bathroom saying, “I need a shower.”
That gave Jake time to hit the phones. He called Rand and got voicemail, leaving a message to say where he and Rielle were and warning him to avoid the Luxotel. He called Sharon to discover she was already at the hotel with the rest of the group. They’d beaten the media contingent and were in their rooms, shaken, stirred, bruised and angry, but essentially not hurt. He called Ron’s office, the publicist and the tour lawyer. He called the police and the network. He scratched out an inventory of the gear and instruments they’d lost. He rang room service and ordered coffee and food.
When Rand called, he sounded frenzied, talking fast like he did when he was ready to go on stage and the adrenaline was pumping. “Is she okay?”
?
??She’s says she’s not hurt. She’s so friggin’ brave I can hardly believe it.”
“They don’t build them any tougher. It’s not just an act you know.”
Jake was at the window; the Yarra River and the city spread in front of him. “Where are you?”
“With Harry’s crew. I’m coming to you now.”
“Sharon is with the others. They’re fine, shaken but not hurt. She’ll give us the all clear.”
Rand said, “What the fuck happened, Jake?” with both the aftermath of shock and resignation in his tone.
“I should’ve gotten you out of there earlier.”
“Not your fault. I should’ve listened to my own head. I could see it was going wrong.”
Jake watched a garishly painted gondola take on a load of tourists. Maybe that’s where he should be. Out there with the ordinary punters, not here with the performers where he felt responsible for things turning to shit. “If you want me out, I understand.”
“Fuck no!” Rand sounded savage. “I need you to deal with this.”
The gondola pulled out from the dock to begin its pleasure cruise, as out of place on the Yarra as Jake felt in the conversation. “No problem.”
Rand said, “See you in ten,” and clicked off.
Rielle ran the shower water hard, hot and long and she scrubbed her skin til it flushed pink and the ugly itch she’d felt from those hard hands that grabbed her rinsed away. It wasn’t the first time she’d been manhandled, but it was the first time security had failed to step in quickly. That had been really fucking scary. The two who got her were drunk, high, whatever, but detached from reality enough not to be thinking straight; not to know there was little chance of getting away with hurting her. She’d hurt them too, as well as she could, with a hard kick to the jaw of one, an eye gouge to the other; but two of them, that was dirty pool.
She knew they’d be caught. She just hadn’t known how long she’d have to struggle on her own before help came. She could hear Rand yelling, she could see the cops on their way and she thought from the look on Jake’s face he might take the whole brawling mass on alone just to get to her.
