“Bitch!” she screams at Mac as she gasps for oxygen.
The violence stirs the crowd into a frenzy. They surge forward, a veritable human tsunami coming right for us. Mac appears oblivious, caught up in her anger as the girl rushes the barrier. Her hair is grabbed in two wrenching handfuls. Mac pushes her backward as the girl bares her teeth and bites at Mac’s shoulder.
She makes contact and Mac shrieks as those furious fangs sink into her skin. Mac shoves her back and jabs another fist for good measure. Her punch lands in the girls face and she goes down. Security rushes forward as I grapple through people. My arms slide around Mac. I forcibly yank her backward.
“I’m going to sue you for assault, you ugly cow!” the girl screams from the ground, both hands covering her eye.
“You just try it, bitch,” Mac growls, jabbing a finger at her as she wrestles against my hold. “I’ll counter sue for sexual assault. They’ll add you to the list of sexual offenders.” Her finger jabs again. “I’ll ruin your entire life, you fucking sexual predator!”
“Oh my god,” the girl moans. “You’re crazy.”
“You better believe it!” Mac shouts, tugging free of my restraining grip. She jabs me with her finger. “This is my man!” The whole band surrounds us. They collectively still at her thunderous declaration as if we’ve reached the eye of a storm. Cooper is off to the side, phone high, capturing it all on video for later. “And that’s my dick you had your hands all over!” Gasps and laughter break out around us and my eyes close. Oh my fucking god. Mac starts for the girl again, muttering, “I’ll cut your goddamn fingers off.” I grab her from behind again, my arms a manacle as they lock tight around her waist.
“Stay away from me, you psycho!” the girl screeches as security helps her upright.
Deep chuckles escape me. I turn my head and rest the side of my face against the back of Mac’s head as I shudder, overwhelmed with hilarity.
“What are you laughing at, asshead?” she mutters at me in a low voice, turning her head so she can eye me sideways. “You were letting her do it. We are so done.”
My mouth falls open. “But—”
Travis, the second half of our personal security duo, gets between her and the barricade. “Mac! What is wrong with you?”
“She needs to eat,” calls Quinn, who’s pushing her tiny body through everyone. Her expression is exasperated, as if she’s spent an hour trekking the Sahara to reach us. Her outstretched hand holds a McDonald’s cheeseburger.
Mac seems to sag, losing some of her fight as she reaches for it. Just as her fingertips touch the edge of the paper wrapping, Jared steps in and slaps it from Quinn’s hand. It drops to the ground. “Are you kidding me?”
“Ouch,” Quinn squeaks. His slap must have caught her on the fingers. She yanks her arm back like a naughty child caught in the cookie jar.
Travis vibrates with anger. He steps forward, eyes on his brother. Uh oh. “You just hit my wife, you fucking dipshit.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
That’s all he gets out. One meaty fist flies out and in the blink of an eye, Jared is staggering backwards.
Holy mother of god. The Valentines are all out of control. Nothing explains Mac’s temperament better than this. She’s the only girl and learned the hard way in a house full of combative brothers.
Evie gasps when the punch connects. She’s standing with Henry, on the fringes of the altercation. They’ve managed to collect the cheeseburger from the floor. It’s ripped in half and they’re both busy chewing. Evie’s future baby daddy will lose his shit further if he sees that. And Cooper is still filming. Frog commentates from beside him as Jared straightens and returns the punch.
“Stop!” Quinn cries.
No one pays her any mind.
“Jake,” Mac bleats, her voice feeble. She stumbles a little, heaving. Her skin is white as snow. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Her entire body turns away. Bending at the waist, Mac pushes free from my arms and vomits over the stage floor entrance.
Worry floods me in a weighty surge. Mac is never sick. I lean over and rub her lower back. Cooper is still filming, his camera now aimed in our direction. I shoot him an irritable glare. “Turn that shit off.”
“And that was our tour,” Cooper declares as he stands by the television in Casey’s loft in Sydney, sharing his edited video. Our eyes are on the screen as Mac finishes her puke. It ends with Jared coming between her and the camera, his brows pulled tight as I lead Mac away. His hand comes toward us until it fills the screen and a curse renders the air. A long beeeeeep sounds and the screen goes black.
Rolling white credits follow as a Jamieson song begins to play. Dutiful clapping fills the room. Casey and Grace are seated on the couch. They stayed home during the tour so Grace could finish her chemotherapy. She’s pale and thin now, her bones so fine they’ll snap with the slightest pressure. It makes my chest tight. How does Casey stand it? I can barely breathe just looking at her.
There’s a slight furrow in Casey’s brow. He leans over, whispering something in Grace’s ear. She shakes her head. He speaks again. She shakes her head again, rolling her eyes.
Seeming to give up, Casey leans forward and snatches a chip from the bowl that rests on the coffee table in front of him. He tosses it in his mouth with a loud crunch and manages a grin in Mac’s direction. “So … that was quite an outburst.”
Mac harumphs. She’s curled up in the recliner looking like she hasn’t slept for forty-eight hours. She repeatedly insists she’s fine and simply suffering exhaustion from the tour. My “incessant hovering” is making it worse. So I’m standing on the opposite side of the room, leaning against the kitchen counter behind me in an attempt to give her space.
Cooper folds his arms. “And we’re still waiting to hear the full story.”
All eyes in the room rise to me. Travis and Quinn are here sharing the opposite recliner to Mac. Jared is seated on the floor with his back resting against the couch Casey and Grace are seated on. Evie sits between his legs. His arms wrap around her, his hands rubbing over the lower rise of her belly. She has a packet of healthy baked vegetable chips resting on her chest, and she’s munching them with a complete lack of enthusiasm. Cooper, Frog, and Henry are scattered about the living room floor, cross-legged and holding beers.
We’ve only been back in Australia two nights. Returning home was a flurry of activity, which was opportune because it left no time for either Mac or myself to explain the scene Cooper managed to capture on video for everyone to see.
Now there’s no more dodging the issue, and I don’t know how to start.