Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 168121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 841(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 841(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
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.
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.