Beneath the Burn

Click. Click. Flash. Flash.

What kind of hell had she walked into? Paparazzi crammed every inch of the hall. What if the Craigs prowled amongst them? How would the guards spot them? Her heart drummed a frenzied rhythm.

“Is that your girlfriend, Jay? What’s her name? What happened to your ear, miss?”

She cupped her injury and blinked against the assault of blinding lights. Man, oh man, if he dealt with this every time he went out, no wonder he never wanted to leave his hotel room. She pressed closer into the mantle of his body, and his heart knocked against her cheek.

“Give them space. Give them space.” The photographers’ questions never slowed.

The cameras darted in and out of her face. There were so many of them. No way could the bodyguards hold them all back. Remarkably, the photographers didn’t reach out, didn’t try to touch.

She kept her eyes on her Doc Martens, scuffing them slowly along the concrete landing to the stairs. Jay’s Chucks dragged alongside hers.

A photographer shoved another into the wall and shouting interrogations pursued.

At the top of the stairs, she and Jay waited behind the bar of Tony’s outstretched arm while Vanderschoot and O’Neil cleared a passageway. Their eyes swept up and down, passing over the paparazzi as if they weren’t there.

“You’re doing well,” Jay whispered in her ear.

“I don’t know about that. How are you doing?” His smile was small and sad and held her heart hostage in her throat. “Do the paparazzi ever touch you?”

“It’s generally against the law to touch someone without their consent. They’re a nuisance, but they rarely break that rule.” His lips brushed the shell of her ear, and he hugged her closer to his chest. “The fans are the law breakers.”

A reminder that the worst was yet to come. The herd trailing them was mild, relative to the shouts thundering from the parking lot.

“Clear,” one of the guards shouted from below.

Down the stairs and around the landings they went. Tony and Nathan flanked them. Every time their eyes flicked upward, Charlee’s pulse spiked. Edison and Colson kept their positions always a floor behind.

The paparazzi leading the slow parade walked backward, scuffling while snapping pictures, some falling down the stairs and climbing their way back up. Jay ducked his head under his free arm, squinting against the invasive flashing.

She dug into her messenger bag and handed him the sunglasses. The way he hurriedly fumbled them on made her wish she’d never taken them.

The closer they came to the ground, the thicker and louder the crowd grew. The security team tightened their circle and the air clotted with unease.

They stepped off the bottom stair at the front of the building and a chorus of shrill screams rode in on the crisp breeze. Six rigid bodies backed into her and Jay, squeezing them in a tight box. Her breath came out in noisy pants. She couldn’t see a damned thing around the wall of guards.

Jay rose on tiptoes, peering over the crowd. “Fuck. The road’s been barricaded. The SUV won’t be able to pick us up here.”

Christ, could this get any worse? The mayhem was closing in on her. Tremors weakened her body. How close were the Craigs? Could they see her? Was one sneaking up now, only a bodyguard’s length away?

He folded her into the V of his legs, chest to chest, trapping her hands between their bellies.

She tensed. How would she walk like this? “Jay, my hands.”

He rubbed his whiskers against her cheek, his body drenched in sweat. “Shhh. We’re good.”

His voice and proximity suspended her. Strange how peace could be found at the most inopportune moment. Cocooned in the orbit of guards, pressed tightly against him, her breath began to normalize. She imbued the intimacy of their private little world. Beneath the eye of the blue sky, it was just him and her and the thunder of their hearts.

“Doing okay?” she asked at his ear.

“It….wa…ot.”

The high-pitched chanting of frantic women calling out his name drowned out his response. She leaned back to read his lips. “What?”

“I said it’s just a walk in the parking lot.”

“Clear,” Tony said above the shrieking.

Clear of what? Weapons? Bad guys? They certainly weren’t clear of crowds.

The guards spread out and her private world came crashing down.

Jay turned her back to his front and hooked his forearm across her chest. She gripped the bag’s strap at her hip to keep from grabbing him for balance. He held his other hand out in front of her to block some of the camera shots and ward back the posters, pads, and markers shoved through the guards’ line.

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