28. Chapter 28
Chapter twenty-eight
— THE LAKES BY TAYLOR SWIFT
“Are you ready to go? Kenner and Chris are going to clear a path,” I tell Bree as she smooths out her dress. I hate that Alex decided to crash her event, and just seeing his stupid face pissed me the fuck off.
How fucking stupid is he?
I hate that the first thought that ran through my mind was that Bree is mine and not his, because I hate how possessive and insane that sounds.
But she’ll never be his in the way that matters. The two of them are faker than those teeth of his.
“I’m ready, I think. Does my hair look okay? I feel like it’s written all over my face that we just made out. My lip gloss is all over your lips now.” I smile as I bring my hand to my lips. Yup, there it is . “Do you want me to wipe it off?”
“No.”
Her cheeks flush when I say that. “So, how do I look?”
“You still look as beautiful as ever, Bree,” I tell her as I press one more kiss to her forehead, the blush creeping up her cheeks again. “There’s my favorite color again.”
“Vince, stop making me swoon so much.”
“Never,” I say as I open the door for her. “Your friends want to say goodbye, so we’ll stop for them and then we’ll leave, okay?”
“Okay. That sounds good.”
I push the door open, feeling Bree follow behind me like always. I shift my gaze around the event and notice that a decent number of people have left, and I speak into my earpiece.
“We’ll be out soon. Is the path clear?”
“It’s settled as best as we can. There’s a lot of fucking people out here, boss,” Chris tells me, and I sigh heavily. This is going to be a shitshow, and my only hope is that I can get Bree out of here safely. Alex really fucked things up. I’m sure half the cameras out there are because of his surprise appearance.
A few minutes and lots of hugs later, I softly touch Bree’s arm. “Time to go, Bree. It’s getting crazy out there.”
“Okay,” she says as she turns to her friends. “I’ll see you guys. We should have dinner at my place soon.”
“That sounds good, Bree,” Tristan tells her before he looks at me. “Take care of our girl, Vince.”
“That's all I wanna do, Tristan.”
“I know, man,” he says as he throws his hand out for me to take.
“Bree,” I say, reminding her that we have to go.
“Sorry. Okay, I love you all. Thank you for coming. Vince has guards for each of you when you leave. I’ll text you all when I’m home!” Bree follows me to the door, and before we leave, I let her collect herself.
“It’s going to be rowdier than normal. Chris tried his best, but it might be a tight squeeze.”
“I’ll be okay, Vince. As long as you’re in front of me, I’ll feel okay.”
“Good. I’m going to open the door,” I tell her, and when I open it, flashes of lights are all I see. It's a fucking zoo out here, and I can barely see two feet in front of me. “Everyone back the fuck up!”
I feel Bree grab onto my suit jacket as I push forward. I can’t see any members of my team, and that thought makes me want to turn around and get the hell back inside, but either way, I’m fucked. As long as we can make it to the car, we should be fine, but even that is proving difficult.
“Back the fuck up! You’ll get your fucking pictures, just move!” I yell, and a few photographers listen, but not enough.
I take a few more steps forward, but something hitting me in the face makes me pause, and the next thing I know, all I see is darkness.
It’s a fucking madhouse out here, and I’m holding onto Vince like he’s my only lifeline in a storm, which he kind of is. He keeps yelling at them to back up, but nobody is listening. They never listen, and all I want is to be safe in my car.
Why do they only care about pictures? Can't they tell that this is unsafe? I can barely see ahead of me as the flashes go off. I’m so tired of feeling like some sort of zoo animal. It feels like I’m trapped in this glass box, and nothing I can do or say will help me get out of it.
The only time I feel free is with Vince, and all these stolen moments we’ve had together have let me breathe a bit easier in the past few weeks.
When I feel his jacket slip from under my touch, I start to panic.
What’s going on ? I wonder, and a few seconds later, Vince falls to the ground, his face way too pale and his skin hot to the touch.
“Vince? Vince! Vince, what—” I search his features for any sign he can hear me, but his eyes are closed, and I have no idea what all this white stuff is on his face. Where the fuck did this come from ?
I grab his earpiece and start to scream into it. “Nico! Chris! Emerson! Anyone, please help. Vince is down. I repeat, Vince is down in front of the building.”
I don't bother to hear any responses, and a few seconds later, Nico and Chris show up.
“What happened, princess?” Nico asks me as he finds Vince’s pulse. “His heartbeat is slowing down.”
“Everyone back up! Back the fuck up!” Chris shouts, and they finally listen.
“I-I don't know what happened. He just went down, and he has all this stuff on his face. Why does he look like that, Nico? What the fuck happened?”
“We’ll find out. I’m calling 911,” he tells me as he pulls his phone out.
My mind starts to panic at the millions of possible outcomes, and seconds later, Vince’s body starts to shake.
“Fuck! Turn him on his side,” Nico tells me as Emerson helps. I’m frozen, again. Yet another time that the panic takes over my body and I don’t do anything.
I hate myself, and tears flood my eyes as the ambulance pulls up. The EMTs hop out, stick Vince with something, and a few seconds later, his body stops seizing.
They strap him onto the gurney in record time, and Emerson hops into the ambulance with him as Nico finds out where they’re headed.
“Princess? Come back to me. Vince is going to be okay. He’s in good hands. They're taking him to the hospital, but Vince would kill me if I didn't take you somewhere safe—”
“Nico, take me to the fucking hospital right now, or I’ll get there myself!” I yell through my tears.
He takes one look at me and nods as he shoves everyone else out of the way before the two of us are finally in the car. There’s no doubt that Nico is breaking a few too many traffic laws, but I can't find it in myself to care.
Because as soon as my phone dings in my pocket, I know with complete certainty that it’s my fault.