“Put him on.”
Dazed, I handed the phone over to him. He took it, appearing beyond exasperated. “Aye, I’m here,” he said impatiently. “I just got off the phone with Lois. She was giving me a heads-up that the paparazzi have set up camp outside Skylar’s building.”
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.
“Problem is, I’m here and I can’t be seen leaving here at this time in the morning.”
Oh, shit. I hadn’t even thought about that. I threw my hands up in disbelief and horror and Killian caught one of them. He pulled me into him, caressing my back in soothing strokes as he listened to Autumn. “That sounds like a plan. Thank you. We’ll see you soon.”
“What sounds like a plan?” I asked as soon as he hung up.
“The paparazzi can’t see me. This is already going to be a shitstorm without adding that on top of it. Autumn is going to come over with a security team we’ve used for other artists. You’ll get dressed and you’ll leave the apartment to draw them away so I can get out.” He took hold of my biceps and bent his head to mine. “Under no circumstances are you to engage with any of the press. You keep your head down and the security team will get you out. Okay?”
My mind whirled. I felt so disoriented.
I think I’d always secretly hoped it would never actually come to this.
“And . . . and . . .” I blinked, trying to remember what I wanted to say. My lips felt numb. I brushed my fingers over them, checking that they weren’t made of rubber.
“Skylar?”
I shook my head. “I, um . . . yeah . . . uh . . . where am I going? Where is this security team taking me?”
“To the label.” He brushed my hair off my face. His eyebrows almost touched, he frowned so hard. “Tell me you’re okay.”
I couldn’t.
I wasn’t.
“Fuck, Skylar, I’m going to make this okay. We knew this would happen eventually.” He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight, and even though I held on, devastatingly his arms felt nowhere near as safe as they had the night before.
Nowhere felt safe now that they had found me again.
AUTUMN ARRIVED NOT TOO LONG later. I’d showered and dressed, feeling jittery and more than a little sick.
It was adrenaline.
Adrenaline spiked by fear that I was about to lose everything that had begun to make me happy.
Killian’s sister, as promised, was not alone. There were two huge burly guys with her wearing dark jeans and black sports jackets. Beneath their jackets their sweaters stretched across massive muscular chests. Their expressions were mirror images of fierce calm that said “don’t fucking mess with me” without actually saying anything at all.
They looked like every other professional security personnel I’d ever hired.
Not that I was hiring them. Since Adam had given me access to my accounts, I’d tried to pay Killian back for everything but he wouldn’t let me. We’d argued before I got in the shower about who would pay for the security.
Again, he wouldn’t let me.
I’d figure out a way to pay for this, even if I had to be sneaky about it.
I stared at Autumn standing in the living room with the security guys. She looked flushed and harried, and there was a large suitcase beside her.
I flicked a look at it, then back to her. “What happened?”
She rounded her eyes. “They swarmed me like bees as soon as they saw these guys with me.” She gestured to the men.
I gave them a halfhearted wave. “Hey, I’m Skylar.”
They each held out a hand one after the other to shake, introducing themselves as Rick and Angus respectively. “We have a car waiting for you outside,” Angus said. “We’ll get you away from here safely.”
I blew out a shaky breath. “What’s with the suitcase?”
“I’m packing you up.” Killian strode out of the bedroom, pulling on a sweater. His hair was still wet from the shower he’d insisted we take together. I’d stood under the stream of water while he washed my hair, taking care of me, as I tried not to disappear into myself. It was hard to stay present but I needed to face this, not run away from it.
“Packing me up?”
“You can’t stay here anymore now that they know where you live.”
“And where am I going to stay?” I asked.
He looked at the security men, his sister, and then back to me. “We’ll discuss that at the label.”
“We should probably get this over with,” Autumn said. “Rip it off. Like a plaster.”
“Like a Band-Aid,” I corrected her stupidly, like it mattered.
She smirked. “You’re in Glasgow. We call them plasters here,” she teased.
I couldn’t bring myself to smile back. The effort to do so seemed too great. “Let’s do this.” I brushed by Killian to hurry to the bedroom closet. He came in after me as I was shrugging into it my coat.
He stared at me warily. “We’ll get you through this. This was always going to happen, no matter how you came back into the limelight.”
I bristled at how defensive he sounded, like I was blaming him for putting me in this position when I wasn’t. I knew that this was always going to happen once I reached out to my old life. However, for a long time, I thought I was never going back and as awful as it made me, it was nice to think I’d never have to deal with this shit if I didn’t go back.
“I know this isn’t your fault.”
He scowled. “Then why have you barely touched me since the news broke?”
Confused, I gestured to the bathroom. “Did we not just take a shower together?”
“Aye, where you stood like an icicle in my arms.”
“What? Oh, I’m sorry. Is my paparazzi crisis cutting into your sex life?”
Fury slashed across his face and he slammed the bedroom door closed.
“Don’t,” he bit out, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. “Don’t you fucking dare take this out on me. I’m trying to help you after you had Brandon and Micah come to the bloody flat and blow your cover.”
“My cover?” I laughed humorlessly. “Like I’m some spy? I’m not a spy, Killian. I’m a soon-to-be disgraced ex-pop-rock star. They’re never going to forgive me. No one is going to buy this album. You get that, right? When they find out that I’m safe and alive and I haven’t let my fans know I’m safe and alive, they’re going to annihilate me. It might have been okay if we got there first. Spun it the way we planned to. But not now.”
Killian contemplated and then said calmly, “Last night you sang a song you wrote for me and we said we loved each other. And I do. I love you, Skylar. I will do whatever it takes to protect you. But do you really love me?”
Feeling winded by his need to even ask, I whispered, “You know I do.”
“Then stick with me.” He stepped toward me, his dark eyes pleading. “Hold it together and stick with me. Stop panicking. Take a breath. And know that I’m beside you. We will fix this. Believe me.”
His soothing tone worked and I released a shaky sigh. I nodded. “Sorry. I . . . I’m out of practice handling these assholes.”
He took hold of my hand and I stumbled into him. His kiss was soft and reassuring. He held my face in his palms. “Let’s get this over with.”
I nodded, feeling like if I could keep it together like he wanted, then maybe I really could do this.
However, nothing quite prepares you for the barrage of the paparazzi. It was not the first time I’d walked into a crowd of them, but I’d forgotten.
I’d forgotten how it was to be jostled as security tried to shove paps back, to hear camera lenses whirring in my ears, feel them knock against my shoulder, my chin, feel hands that snuck past security to grab and pull on me. All the while the cacophony of shouting and blinding flash from digital cameras discombobulated me. It was how I imagined a deer might feel, surrounded by a pack of wolves.
Hunted.
Trapped.
That’s probably why it elicited fear. Even with the rational part of my brain telling me they were only paparazzi and Rick and Angus would protect me, adrenaline flooded me.
“Skylar, where have you been?”
“Are you joining Tellurian again?”
“Do you have anything to say to the fans?”