Chapter Twenty #2
It’s been a weird night, and I can’t be bothered with any more drama, so I pull out my Recoil T-shirt from the suitcase, place it on the bed, and undress, stripping down to my panties.
Then I slide on the T-shirt and climb in under the sheets before Ryan walks into the room.
Swallowing hard, I figure I’ll let him talk first, so I lie in the bed facing him and watch as he takes off his shirt and jeans, then slides into bed.
I take a deep breath, waiting for him to face me so we can talk, but instead, he rolls over, his back facing me, and moves over right to the edge of the bed as far away from me as possible, not saying a word.
A sinking feeling pounds in my chest.
I can’t breathe.
My stomach twists, and my chest aches so much I wonder if I’m having heart palpitations.
Hot salty water fills my eyes as my bottom lip quivers.
The silence in the room is deafening, and the view of the back of his head is the worst thing I’ve ever seen.
Ryan’s shutting me out, leaving me with questions I’m not entirely sure I am ready to hear the answers to.
Sniffing as subtly as I can, I roll over and face the wall, wiping the tears now falling silently down my cheeks. The coldness of the wall is a reminder of the distance growing between us, and no matter how close we are physically, it feels like he’s a million miles away.
I feel deflated.
Let down.
And most of all, I feel completely in the dark.
I hate this.
A sense of overwhelming dread lies over me, seeping into my bones, and nothing can fix it except for Ryan, who’s completely ignoring me as I silently cry into my pillow. My heart aches, wanting him to reach over, to say anything—just some sign that he cares enough to notice my pain.
But there’s nothing.
And with every tear that falls, I wonder if we’re already too far gone.
***
The last few days have been horrible.
Ryan is still avoiding me at any cost.
Every night, he may sleep with me in the bed, but he turns away, avoids my gaze, and doesn’t speak to me. There’s this rift between us, and I have absolutely no idea how to make it right or if it’s even possible at this point.
It’s the band’s last concert in LA, and it is a great show, as always.
I’m feeling down, and even though the music is fantastic, I still have a job to do.
So, I’m live-streaming their encore song for the night.
The comments are coming in thick and fast, as always, and #Hunter’sGirl is here again, sprouting her usual crap.
But it is getting worse, and I furrow my brows as I read her comments one after the other.
Hunter’sGirl: I will be with Ryan forever.
Hunter’sGirl: I will make Ryan be with me, and I have a plan on how to do it!
Hunter’sGirl: You’ll see, you’ll all see!
I nudge Declan, who’s beside me. He looks down at the comments, and he, too, furrows his brows. The song finishes, so I end the live stream and take a deep breath as Declan shakes his head.
“What the actual fuck?” he questions.
“I know! We need to watch Ryan when we leave tonight. Maybe put an extra guard on him?” I ask.
Declan nods. “I can take a guard from you if you like and add him to Ryan’s watch?”
“Yes, please. I am no one. I don’t need any security. Take all the guards off me and add them to Ryan’s detail. I’m feeling uneasy about this #Hunter’sGirl… whoever she is.”
“Okay, done,” Declan says before walking off to tell his team about the new arrangement, I assume.
The guys come backstage, and Ryan walks straight past me toward the green room. I exhale and roll my eyes.
Danger looks at me and winces. “I’m sorry about him.”
I sigh. “Do you know what’s wrong?”
He nods. “Yeah.”
I pause, waiting, but he says nothing more. “Can you tell me?”
He exhales. “No. He needs to tell you himself. It’s not something I can get in the middle of. I’m sorry, Till.”
“Well, is it something I did?”
He shakes his head. “No, this is all him. Just… give him time. He’ll be okay. Don’t give up on him, please.”
Slumping my body, I nod. “Okay.”
He rubs my shoulder, looking at me with creased brows and turned-down lips.
It’s a sympathetic gesture, and I’m thankful for that.
But it doesn’t help me understand Ryan any better.
I walk with Danger to the green room, where everyone’s already packing up.
Looks like we’re not staying here for too long before heading to the after-party.
I walk in and grab my stuff, moving past Ryan, who casually glances at me before quickly looking away again as I walk by.
Gathering my bag and MacBook, I head back out and follow Oliver and Lunar, leaving everyone else to walk behind us.
We march through the halls out toward where the Hummer is parked.
I glance toward Declan, and he gives me a single nod, the silent signal that everything’s set and my security detail has Ryan surrounded.
The movement is subtle, almost unnoticeable to anyone else, but it loosens the coil in my chest that’s been wound too tight since the show ended.
I allow myself a breath, a small smile forming as he pushes open the door and gestures for us to move.
The moment we step outside, the world erupts.
The night air, thick and humid, fills with shrill screams that rise and echo like a siren.
Camera flashes explode across the darkness, each burst of light momentarily blinding as the mob presses forward, desperate, loud, and all-consuming.
I squint against it, blinking rapidly, trying to keep pace as the band’s entourage tightens its formation.
The crowd feels endless—a blur of hands, glittering phone screens, and faces I can’t tell apart.
Then I see HER.
The girl with purple and aqua hair. The one I recognize immediately from countless shows.
She’s usually got her camera clutched to her chest like a lifeline, but tonight her hands are empty.
That detail hooks in my gut and doesn’t let go.
Her eyes aren’t wide with excitement like the others.
Instead, they are fixed, focused, her expression sharp enough to cut.
A sense of unease snakes up my spine.
Declan and his team move quickly, widening the perimeter as fans surge around us. I’m walking ahead of the band, half turned, trying to make sure everyone stays close when I hear it, my name, called out from somewhere beyond the mass of people. “Tillie!”
The sound carries above the chaos, piercing through it. I turn instinctively toward it and find the purple-haired girl staring right at me.
“Tillie!” she calls again, louder this time, and then she’s moving.
It happens in a blink. One second, she’s behind the barricade of bodies and noise, and the next, she is charging toward me.
My first thought is confusion, my brain refusing to process what my eyes are seeing.
Then something catches the light—a flash of silver that glints beneath the overhead lamps.
It takes half a heartbeat to register the shape of it, and by the time I do, my stomach drops.
A knife.
“Tille, look out!” Declan shouts, his voice low and commanding, and I react without thinking, muscles locking as I drop my bag and MacBook, the thud of them hitting the pavement barely audible beneath the roar of the crowd.
The air feels too thin, every sound amplified—the pounding of feet, the scrape of shoes against asphalt, the single, broken cry of someone shouting, “Stop.”
She breaks past the guard like she’s possessed.
Her scream tears through the night as she lunges, arm raised, the blade catching the light again before I can even move.
My instincts tell me to run, to duck, to do anything, but my body doesn’t listen.
Fear roots me in place, breath trapped somewhere in my throat.
Then, suddenly, a body slams into mine as the girl reaches us. The force knocks me backward, and the sound that follows is one I’ll never forget, a wet, sickening thud, followed by Ryan’s sharp, strangled gasp.
The world seems to tilt sideways.
I stumble, disoriented, my ears ringing as the crowd erupts into chaos. There’s shouting, the muffled crackle of a radio, someone screaming for help. I blink hard, trying to focus, but everything feels like it’s happening underwater.
When I catch my breath and my vision clears, Ryan stands in front of me, his body blocking mine. His face turns pale, his lips part like he’s trying to speak but can’t find the air. His eyes, usually bright and warm, are distant now, glassy, as if he’s looking through me instead of at me.
“I l-love y-you,” he breathes out, the words breaking apart in his throat.
It’s the first time he’s said them, and they come out like a confession torn from somewhere deep.
He glances down, and my eyes fall to where his hand presses against his side. He slowly pulls it away, and the sight steals the breath from my lungs. His fingers are slick with blood, dark and heavy, seeping through the fabric of his shirt and running down his ribs in a torrent.
“Jesus, R-Ryan—” my voice fractures on his name as he sways forward, his knees buckling. I reach for him, catching him before he hits the ground. “No, no, no, don’t you dare leave me. Don’t you dare!”
He collapses into me, his weight folding us both down to the pavement.
My knees scrape against the rough concrete, but I barely feel it.
My hands press against the wound, desperate, useless, trembling as warm blood seeps between my fingers.
Around us, security moves in, shouts blur together, sirens wail in the distance, and camera flashes paint the scene in violent bursts of white.
But all I see is HIM.
His lips part like he wants to say something else, but the words don’t come. I cradle his head against my chest, my tears falling so rapidly it’s hard to see, mixing with the blood staining my hands.
In the chaos of the night—screams, sirens, flashing lights—everything narrows down to the impossible stillness between heartbeats.
And I know, with crushing certainty, that he didn’t just save my life.
He gave up his own for it.
“I love you, Ryan. Stay with me.” I keep repeating these words like a mantra, but as he looks at me, his eyes glass over and his eyelids shut.
I scream out as Danger rushes to my side.
Chaos ensues around me as he feels for a pulse.
“It’s okay, Tillie, the ambulance is nearly here. He’s gonna be fine. He has to be fine!”