Fifty-Seven
Nancy finally saw Ari get away from that lunatic Paris. Luckily, security had the bride, just about. She was doing a fantastic impression of a toddler who’d dropped her ice cream.
Nancy took a step towards Ari to meet her, but people were moving around, the crowd freaking out, not sure what was happening. For a moment, Nancy lost sight of her.
But then a gap opened up, and Nancy saw something. Helen, with her elbow drawn back, her arm raised.
And it broke something in Nancy.
She was moving before her brain caught up, before the thought had even formed. One blink and she’d closed the gap, grabbing Helen by the wrist and spinning her, taking her down fast. Helen went down hard and ungracefully, arms scrabbling for purchase, and Nancy followed her, caught her arm, and twisted until Helen stilled under her.
‘You will never touch her,’ she said, and it didn’t sound like her voice. It was low and certain and shaking with something deeper than anger. She leaned down, pressing her words into Helen’s ear. ‘Do you hear me?’
Helen made a small, panicked sound. Her face was turned to the side, and Nancy could see the shape of fear in her expression now. Her mouth parted. Her pupils were blown wide.
Ari’s voice rang out behind them: ‘You saw that? Attempted assault, yes? The bride as well.’
Nancy felt the shift in the air more than she heard the officer’s response. The shuffle of boots. The soft metallic hiss of cuffs being drawn from a belt.
‘Come on, slugger,’ said a voice, and Nancy felt herself pulled gently away. She knew who it was before she turned around and saw her.
‘Are you OK?’ Ari asked as Helen was cuffed.
Nancy smiled at her.
And then everyone started getting hauled off.