Chapter 25 #2
She was a bit shyer, but she nodded and then squeezed him again. More than one adult was wiping their eyes by the time Wren stood back up.
I pulled Emery into a hug, and while our family did their thing, we soaked in as much comfort as we could. There was a clear plan, Wren was safe with Abi and the boys on the case, and I could have the night and tomorrow morning off.
There’d been more messages from the stalkery fan, but they weren’t anywhere closer to identifying them.
The police wouldn’t get involved because that shit happened all the time to famous people.
We’d told Wren he needed to be a bit more careful and to pay no mind to the tightened security measures we had in place, but that wasn’t new.
It had happened before in his career, so he wasn’t worried.
The security staff, myself included, were, but that was why it was my job to keep him safe and his job to sing his heart out every night.
Speaking of which, Dislocated Heart had become a hit immediately. I saw Bodhi, who had been standing by another wall out of the way, finally get his hug with Wren. They didn’t seem to say anything, but the way they were looking at each other seemed different.
Maybe Bodhi finally figured some shit out or maybe I had turned into a romantic and was reading into things, who knew.
“Okay,” Wren said as he stepped back from the hug. “I have about half an hour before I need to motor.”
“What does that mean?” Payton asked curiously.
“It means Wren needs to go get some sleep. He’s been working all night,” Mal replied as Wren sat on the couch and grabbed his first Gatorade and snacks.
“Uh-huh. I need to drink and eat first. Do we know anyone who would like snacks?” he asked, and the kids swarmed him from both sides.
“He’s so grateful y’all came,” I told Emery when we finally closed my hotel room door behind us.
“Yeah. I think it was a good surprise.” He kicked his shoes off by the door next to mine.
We left a trail of clothes across the suite and ended up in bed, with him on top of me.
“You going to ride me, baby?” I asked, my voice husky as all hell.
“No. I’m going to squish you first, then ride you,” he announced.
We hugged each other tightly for a while.
In that moment I knew that these snippets of time weren’t enough, and we had months and months of separation left.
The tour continued. The threat stayed in the back of our minds while we made sure Wren stayed safe.
Every concert was sold out.
We didn’t think anything would happen once we got abroad for the European stretch of the tour, because it would take a lot of resources and effort for someone to follow us there.
The last three concerts in the States were nuts.
The crowds were wild. We had to tighten the security even more, and then, somehow, on that last one before we’d fly out to London the next day, things went from bad to worse in an instant.
“I can’t believe this was it,” Wren told me as we were in the SUV on our way from the venue to the hotel.
James was in the passenger’s seat with Abi driving while Wren and I sat in the back.
Rico and Kamon were ahead of us. Their job was to secure the route from the garage into Wren’s penthouse suite. Somehow the timing sucked a bit, because our elevator to the correct floor dinged only moments after the guys’. They walked toward his room while we waited by the elevator.
Rico opened the door and stepped in, Kamon behind him.
Then suddenly every hair on my body stood up, and I knew something was happening three seconds before we heard a gunshot.
In those three seconds, I pushed Wren back into the elevator that James was holding open as a security measure, and Abigail picked up the shift in me.
She ran forward, while James secured Wren with me, closing the doors and stopping the elevator there.
“What’s going on?” Wren asked, shaky as all hell as I crowded him into the corner with my bigger body. Before I had time to answer, his brain caught up. “There was a gunshot!”
“Yes there was, and the others are handling it,” I said calmly, hoping to project that onto him.
My brain was going through scenarios. James was on the phone with the police and then the front desk.
Wren started to push at my chest. “Ville, move. I need space.”
“No. You know the protocol.”
“I can’t fucking breathe!” Then again, the horror of what was going on hit him a second time. “Oh my God, the guys! Ville move!”
I barely swayed as he pushed me.
My phone dinged and I took it out. It was Abigail.
Kamon hit but stable. Suspect detained. Take Wren to your room.
I showed James the screen and he nodded tightly.
“Wren, stop pushing me,” I told him firmly. “We’re going to my room now. The cops are on the way. Everything is fine, but you need to calm the fuck down.”
I cursed at him so rarely, that it snapped him out of the panic he was feeling. He was still agitated, but who could blame him. The doors opened and James stepped out.
“Clear,” he said.
Something about it made Wren snort.
“Come on, you clown,” I told him and tucked him under my arm, turning us away from his room. Mine was luckily in the other direction.
It took several hours to get some clarity on what had happened.
The fan was a woman in her mid-fifties, completely obsessed with Wren, and she worked in tech which explained a lot on why it had been impossible to track her.
Luckily she’d been a shitty shot, because she’d only gotten Kamon on the arm and he was already grumbling about the mandatory time off.
He’d join us for the last leg of the tour.
Since we were leaving the country, I left the mess in the label’s hands. They could handle the cops. By the time the news of it all broke, we were on the plane on our way to London.
“Shit,” Wren hissed from his seat across the aisle from me.
“What?” I asked, surprised by his tone.
“I should’ve let the family know what happened.” What he meant was he should’ve let Bodhi know.
“I texted Emery while you tried to sleep. He’ll fill everyone in.”
“Okay…. Thanks.” He looked relieved, but his expression was still troubled and I wasn’t sure if it was about the last eight hours or his whole career.
“Wren?” Rachel asked from a few seats down. She had been working on her handlery duties nonstop since last night.
“Yeah?” he turned to look at her.
“You should probably prepare for the questions about the situation you’re going to get once we land.”
Immediately, I saw him bristle. I stuck my earbuds in and put on some music, because I didn’t need to be part of this argument.
I shut them both out as he got up and went to sit with her—likely out of courtesy of my clearly not wanting to take part, because even ticked off, he still cared about my comfort—and sighed.
Three weeks in Europe. Then back to North America for the final part of the tour.
All I wanted was to be at that cabin in Colorado with Emery in my arms.