Shutters snapped from every direction. Bulbs flickered against the sunlit sky. Paparazzi barked out questions, but it was submerged beneath a flood of girly piping.
“Aaaaaah. Jay Mayard!” At least twenty women of all ages pressed against the bodyguards, screaming and sobbing. Yes, sobbing. Actual tears streaked down the make-up-smeared faces that were twisting behind the camera phones. Jay Mania had gripped the Village.
“Oh my God. Oh my God. You’re so sexy.” Twenty women grew to forty or fifty. Others were running through the street, some dragging small children into the fray. Cars honked and people shouted from the windows in nearby buildings.
She scanned the hustle of bodyguards, looking for Nathan. Too much movement. Too many identical black shirts. She’d spent three years avoiding scenes like this to evade Roy’s watchful eyes. Now, she was certain he could see her, through a camera lens or a Craig.
Her muscles were so tight, dizziness surged over her in waves. The hard, metal weight at the small of her back was a false sense of relief. Shooting a Craig in the crowd would’ve been impossible without endangering a bystander.
A sense of urgency, bordering panic, took over the guards and their pace picked up. By the time they reached the corner of the building, the number of screaming fiends had doubled again.
They bounced, covered their mouths, and fanned themselves. Where did they come from? Tony had alerted the paparazzi. Not the entire state of New York.
The arm around her held its position, despite the jostling of the guards and crowds. Jay dropped his head, his shoulders hunched, and hung his mouth open to accommodate his rapid breathing. He didn’t want this. He held his gut with his free arm as if the attention were actually hurting him. She was thankful for his sunglasses. She wasn’t sure she could’ve handled seeing pain in his eyes.
Selfish, invasive cows. An ugly aggressive hate for these women buried its roots in her heart. If she could bargain with the devil, she would trade places with Jay. She would suck the hurt away, inhale it deep, and make it her own. Anything to ease the misery that was wrenching his body.
And he was doing this for her.
“OhmyGod, you’re haaaawt, Jay Maaaaayard.”
Click. Click. Click.
Head down, Jay led her through the masses and into the parking lot. The car wouldn’t be far, would it?
The roar of the crowd bounced between the buildings. The guards kept a two-foot space cleared around them, but the perimeter wavered, straining inward.
The sea of writhing people spilled into the street and to the other side. Upstretched arms held huge-lensed cameras over the push and pull of bodies. The front line reached out with wiggling fingers and blinking phones.
Did a boob just flash in his face?
“I love you, Jayeeeeeee. Looking good. You’re so handsome.”
No, several boobs. Huge naked boobs. The girls elbowed each other to bend over the barricade of the guard’s arms. How far away was the damned car?
“Can I have your autograph, Jay?”
He kept his head sheltered beneath his arm. His other arm was a vise around her neck.
“I want a picture. Please take a picture with me.” More crying. More bouncing nipples. And the crowd grew. Pounding footsteps and distant screaming announced more coming from the street.
Was that the diversion they wanted? The paparazzi seemed to be losing their footing to the tizzy of desperate women, but the cameras didn’t stop clicking.
Without warning, Tony spun toward Jay, slamming her back against his chest and dislodging his arm from Charlee’s neck.
Oh God, no. What was happening? Charlee chased him, only to be yanked back by the shoving current of bodies.
Tony’s mouth moved, and her eyes flicked between the roof and the crowd. What was she shouting? One word over and over. Gun?
Charlee’s legs locked up and her mouth went dry. Something hunkered on the roof. Impossible to make out details with the sun’s glare.
Jay swung his head back and forth. “Charlee?”
More people rolled in, pushing her further back, blocking her view of Jay. She elbowed and kicked with the best of them, but the force of the frenzy swept her more feet away, bumping her into the grill of a parked car. “Jay!”
She glimpsed him through the crack of bodies, five…six car lengths away. The sunglasses on his face pointed in her direction.
His lips stretched from his clenched teeth. “Charlee!” He struggled against Tony’s grip, but something paralyzed him. He choked, curled in on himself and cupped his ears.
Oh Jay, no. Charlee’s heart skipped, helplessness curling her nails into her palms.
Tony bolstered most of his weight with hands on his chest and shoulders. No! Not her hands.
Charlee doubled her effort, punching and body slamming through the crowd.