The Tour (4 page)

Some time ago, three substitute bodyguards showed up. One stood watching the entrance to the waiting area for me. I think the other is outside of Deloris’ room, and the third must be outside of Kolton’s. Gina has stayed with me, furiously typing on her laptop, the clicking nearly in time with the nervous shaking of my body.

With my eyes shut, I feel a shift in the air around me. “Mia Phoenix,” the female voice says, with a note of urgency.

My eyes dart open and a female doctor is standing there, knowing everything I need to know. “Is he okay?” I ask.

“He’s stable. He lost a lot of blood but we’ve closed the wounds and treated him for smoke inhalation. He’s also had a plastic surgeon come in to minimize scarring.”

He’s okay!
I breathe a sigh of relief and rub my eyes.

“Can I see him now?”

“Yes. We’ve moved him to a private room near the general surgery wing. I’ll take you.”

“Thank you,” I say, feeling relieved. Stinging tears fall unwillingly as I wiggle out from under Riley and position some of the blanket under her head like a pillow. “Gina. Please stay with Riley for me?” She nods and smiles. I grab her hand and squeeze it. “Thank you.”

I follow the doctor wearing green scrubs out of the room and instruct the female bodyguard to stay with Riley while I’m gone. I can feel the slickness of the floor under my feet and step carefully as she walks me down the hall.

I see the third bodyguard, a tall black man, posted at the door. “I’m Mia.”

“I know,” he says, and holds his hand out like an arrow I’m allowed to follow. I turn to the doctor.

“Can I go in alone?”

“Sure.”

“Can you make sure no one comes in to disturb us?” I ask. When he nods, I say, “Thank you,” my voice shaky. It smells like medicine and cleaning supplies as I walk in, and rubber and machines. And Kolton.

It’s cold and I wrap my arms around my stomach, close my eyes for a second, and push through the curtain. His eyes are closed and he’s got an oxygen tube in his nose. There’s a white bandage on his upper right arm. Was he shot or cut? Did she cut him with something? Maybe glass from the bottle or she brought a knife.

I feel my chest constricting and swallow to wash away the huge lump in my throat. I take a step, and then another, when his eyes open and lock with mine. “Mia,” he breathes groggily.

I’m overcome with a kaleidoscope of intersecting emotions. Love. Relief. Sadness. Joy. I rush toward him, but stop myself from touching him. I’m scared I’ll hurt him or mess up the wires and tubes. “Riley?” he asks.

“She’s asleep in the waiting room. She’s fine, didn’t even have to be admitted.” He nods and his jaw tenses, but then he smiles slightly for a second before he stiffens as if he’s in pain. His eyes don’t leave mine. They’re scary intense, deep and tainted with pain.

“Deloris?” he asks and coughs.

“She got out. She ran down the stairs, but she’s being treated for smoke inhalation. They’re watching her and taking images of her lungs.”

He nods again, his jaw tense. “Manny and Devon?”

“They went with the police. They took their guns and everything.” I’m exhausted, breathless. I want to touch him, but I stay back, ignoring the magnetic pull of my body to his. I’m shaking and concentrate on my legs to keep me still.

“Who’s with you then?” he asks, almost panicked.

“Devon had Gina call in three substitutes.” He blows out a breath but his chest is still tight.

“What about the lawyers? Did Gina call them?”

“Lawyers?”

“Yeah, for Devon and Manny. They shouldn’t be talking to the police without my lawyers.” His voice is louder than it had been.

“I’m sure Gina called them. I mean, she says it’s all over the news so there’s no way the lawyers don’t know. Or your agent. Don’t you have one of those? Wouldn’t he or she call the lawyers?” His fist is tightening and my heart is pounding while my stomach turns in circle after circle. I don’t want him to worry about this. “Manny and Devon are grown-ups. They know what to do.”

“Why are you standing so far away?” he reaches his hand out to me. I hesitate, but move a little closer.

“What happened up there, Kolton?” I whisper, taking his outstretched hand. He looks away from me toward the corner of the room and grasps me tighter. He shakes his head and swallows—his Adam’s apple moving up and then down.

He pulls me closer, and takes the oxygen tube out of his nose. “I need you,” he says, desperation in his voice, as he pulls me toward him and wraps his arm around my waist. I lean down and let him hold me, his arms around me like a knot, while the sound of the air coming out of the oxygen tube rushes into the air rather than his lungs. It makes me wince.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I protest, feeling myself tensing in his arms, so he’ll let go.

“Don’t pull away from me. Please,” he says, his heart exposed, as he brings his hand up to my chin, keeping his other hand, the one with the IV tubes, wrapped around my lower back. “I need you, Mia. I love you.” His words come out like tendrils wrapping themselves round my heart, forcing me to want to give him what he needs.

He needs the oxygen he’s cast aside, and he needs sleep, and there’s a recently closed wound in his arm and another somewhere else that needs to heal.

But he’s saying he needs me. The stiffness in my limbs melts away until I’m soft and pliable. He feels the change and I watch his eyes dilate, hypnotizing me like he’s a drug and I’m in withdrawal. I lean forward and let him take my lips because I need him, too.

And when his soft lips touch and caress mine, I let out a pained breath that he takes in before pulling my bottom lip in his mouth, sucking on it before kissing me deep and with purpose. He gives me his fear, and I give him my worry, and while they mix together in the air around us, they start to dissipate.

A tear streaks down my cheek and he wipes it away before kissing me again, easing some of the ache in my weary heart. His hand moves from the small of my back to my wrist, and then up my arm to my chin, making me warm all over. The stress in my body rolls like waves.

I hear the sounds of the IV tube rubbing against the sheets as his hand moves down to my lower back. I whimper and pull away slightly, surprised at how fast he overwhelms my senses.

I hover above him, allowing his breath to tickle the sensitive skin of my face. I’m keenly aware of the beeping of his heart monitor and the hum of the oxygen tube as it’s dangling near his throat. His eyes narrow on mine as if he’s hurt by my pulling away from him.

I bite my lip to stop the tingling, and press my thighs together to ease the hallow ache for him. Looking at the white bandage, I gently pull the oxygen tube over his ears and place it in his nose, as it should be, to help his lungs heal.

It pains me to see him so vulnerable and hurt, so I break eye contact and look down at his chest. During all the movement between us, the sheet and his gown, closed in front, have moved so I can see another bandage peering out like a slap in the face. It’s over his heart, covering his tattoo. The one of the phoenix rising.
Did she cut him there? Did she stab him?
My mind is spinning thoughts around like a wheel.

More than anything, this is proof he’s lucky to be alive. I bring my hand up and run my shaky index finger lightly on the skin above the bandage. “What happened, Kolton? Did she—?” my voice catches in my throat. My eyes are stinging and seeping.

“I did the best I could. I didn’t mean for it to happen—” he says, his eyes vacant and downcast as his breath hitches in his throat. My heart squeezes and so I do the only thing I can do. I give him me, my lips taking his, surprising him. He growls low in his throat and tilts my head to the side, deepening the kiss. I whimper, grateful that we’re alive. Had he not faced her alone she could have hurt Riley or Deloris. She might have killed us.

“You’re so brave,” I say as I run my hand lightly along his chin. I swallow and look into his eyes. What I see there is more pain than I know what to do with. I’ve never seen him cry… until right now. A silent tear rolls down his cheek, yet he doesn’t wipe it away. He lets it fall and looks away for a second, but then green eyes with a red fleck penetrate mine. I only nod once, ever so gently. “I’m sorry, Kolton. I know you did everything you could.” His lips tighten, and his breathing quickens again. Why does me saying that make him anxious?

“I need you to promise me something,” he says as he’s tightening his fist around the sheet, the fear in his eyes causing me to shake a little. I look down at him with the oxygen tube in his nose and the bandages, and my chin starts to quiver again.

“What do you need?” I offer.

“I don’t want you to read anything about this. I don’t want you to watch it on the news. What happened up there—I need to tell you myself or you won’t understand. It gets all mixed up when the media reports it. Can you do that for me?” he asks, with desperation in the tone of his voice. “Do you promise?” He watches me intently as I process his request. Whatever happened up there tonight doesn’t seem to matter when faced with his pain over me finding out before he’s ready to tell me. And I’m so grateful for what he did. If he hadn’t faced her alone, we might not be alive.

“You’ll never have to ask me that twice,” I say, reassuring him. “I trust you.” I feel his body relax as he exhales. And then I move into the crook of his arm and lay my head on his shoulder. My eyes feel heavy, as do my limbs. I don’t want to move; I only want to listen to him breathe. I am soft and pliable as I start to slip away into a dream.

There’s a knock on the door. I jump and look at him. He’s asleep, but not peaceful. There’s something happening to him in his dream.

“Just a second,” I call out, and he stirs but doesn’t wake. I watch him for a minute. Beautiful, but mortal. My chest is swollen with my feelings for him—it pinches and aches. We’re alive. He faced off against crazy and lived. I watch his chest rise and fall before I get up and walk past the curtain, and open the door.

A nurse on the other side of the doorjamb with a colored black, bubble haircut is tapping her foot and wearing an angry expression. “Excuse me. I need to check on my patient.” She pushes past me and picks up the little red light that he was supposed to have on his finger and puts it back on.

“You need to leave. Visiting hours are
way
over,” she demands in a terse voice meant to shame me. I want to argue with her, but I should take Riley somewhere with a soft bed.

As I watch her check his vitals and add a new bag to feed his IV, I concede. I turn to walk away when I hear her say, “You could have hurt him,” she says, tapping her pen on his chart. “Keeping his nurse out of the room.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. Her judgment is like a fog in the air around us. I have to walk through it to place one soft kiss on his temple, and run my finger along his jaw. I feel her stare as I lean into his ear. “I love you, Kole,” I say before I walk toward the door.

“Please don’t leak this to the press. We all have different ways of handling stressful situations,” I stutter, feeling the blush come up to my cheeks.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” she says, as she’s writing something down on his chart and then changes the IV bag. “Now, I’m going to change his bandages. He’s going to be fine. But you do need to leave now,” she reminds me.

My stomach churns my worries. “Thank you,” I say, before walking back to Gina and Riley and facing reality.

*     *     *

“Where’s the hotel?” I ask Gina. “I need to get Riley into a real bed.” She raises her eyebrows. Oh, she wants to know how he is. “He’s fine. Sleeping now,” I say, thinking about his uneasy sleep. “So, I’d like to take a shower and get some sleep before the world wakes up and tries to find out every detail.”

“Okay,” she says, consolingly. “I’m going to go get you and Riley some clothes, too. I’ll have ’em delivered to the hotel.”

“God, I—I really appreciate that, Gina. I know this isn’t your job to take care of me like this.”

“Don’t you worry about that. I’m here, and, as long as I’m your publicist, I’ll help you when you need it. I’m just glad that you all got out, and you’re safe.”

I hug her before leaning down to shake Riley awake. My female substitute body guard helps us through the crowd of flashing lights and screamed questions toward her car.

Once we check in to the hotel, I tuck Riley in bed before I wash the day away. In the shower, my legs feel like weak rubber bands that’ve lost their strength. The longest day ever, it feels.

I wrap the fluffy white towel around my hair and tie on the white robe. The white sheets feel clean and soft as I snuggle into them. Through the slight crack in the curtains, I can see the sun starting to come up over the horizon. I’m thinking about the symbolism of a new day as my eyes shut and I fall into a deep, but still-restless, sleep.

What If?