Ryder chuckles. “He’s actually a good guy, and we’re good. Don’t worry, baby.”
We head out of the venue via the front entrance because the guys want to spend a little time thanking the fans outside. It’s dark out, but the lights of the venue illuminate the substantial crowd outside.
I hang back with Linda and Kayla, surrounded by bodyguards, as we watch our men working the crowd. I’m not even mad at the women who make blatant grabs for my husband or the ones who try to pull his head around for a kiss. Ryder effortlessly deflects their advances, and I know their love for him helped both of us through the rougher times. It’s helped put things in perspective.
The groupies, now, are a completely different matter, but until they go on tour, I don’t have to worry about that threat yet. And I trust my husband one thousand percent to stay faithful to me so I’m not losing sleep over it.
I’m smiling as I scan the crowd when a little flash captures my attention. A flickering light draws my eyes to a man standing in the middle of the crowd, staring at me. All the blood drains from my face as I instantly recognize him from the sneaky photograph Ryder took one time at a drop-off. His lips are curved into a sneer as he waves at me, intentionally ensuring I see him. But it’s the raised gun in Ren’s hand that scares me the most because he’s aiming it directly at Ryder.
“Ryder!” I act on instinct, pushing past Mike and racing toward Ryder, trying to keep my eyes trained on Ren as I run. I’m screaming Ryder’s name as he looks up, his eyes popping wide when he sees the alarm on my face. “Ren!” I yell. Ryder jerks his head around in the direction of my pointed finger as Mike barks out orders to the crowd. People start screaming and running in all directions, and it’s complete chaos. I’m only a few feet away from Ryder when Ren twists around, angling the gun in my direction.
Intense pain explodes in my chest, rippling through my body as I fall backward. My hands instinctively cover my belly as my body impacts something hard. A blanket of darkness sweeps across my eyes right before I lose consciousness.
43
Ryder
Iwhip my head around when Zeta screams Ren’s name, horror engulfing me as I lock eyes with my nemesis. I’m turning to run toward my wife when Ren switches his focus, directing the gun at Zeta. “No!” I roar, shoving Gar and Micah aside to get to my wife.
A shot rings out, as if in isolation, because I hear it so clearly despite the panicked cries of the crowd. My heart slows down as I watch the bullet enter my wife’s body. Watch her glazed eyes flicker in and out as she tumbles to the ground. Mike reaches her before me, catching her head in his lap before it impacts the ground. I barely hear the gunshots being traded behind me, and I’ve no concern for my own safety. I have single-minded focus: Get to my wife and baby.
I drop to my knees when I reach them. Mike is cradling Zeta’s head in his lap, his fingers pressed to the pulse point in her neck as he screams down the phone.
“Zeta, baby, can you hear me?” I’m trembling as I take hold of my wife’s hand. Her skin feels cold, and I’m terrified. Blood oozes out of the wound in her chest, and I press my hands over it in a feeble attempt to stop the flow.
“Let me through! I’m a doctor!!” I lift my head up at the sound of his voice.
“Mike!” I nod in Noel’s direction. “Get him over here now.”
He nods, signaling to his guy to let my father through. “Ambulance is on its way.”
Noel sinks to his knees beside me, looking into my face. “Don’t look at me!!” I yell. “Look at her! Help her!” Blood continues to leak from her chest, coating my fingers.
He takes Zeta’s pulse and leans his ear down over her mouth. “Her pulse is weak, but she’s still breathing.” Removing a bunch of gauze out of his medical bag, he hands it to me. “Put this over the wound and keep pressure on it.” I place the wadded-up bandages over her chest, pressing down hard as instructed. “Someone get me a blanket!” Noel hollers, looking in the direction of the small group of staff who has gathered at the entrance to the venue.
I touch her cheek with a bloody finger. “Zeta, please hold on. Please don’t leave me. I need you. Our baby needs you.” Sirens blare, getting closer, and I pray to a God I long stopped believing in, begging him not to take my wife and my baby.
A young girl rushes over with a thin blue blanket. Noel thanks her before covering Zeta with it while I continue to put pressure on the wound. “Can you check the baby?” I plead.
He pulls a stethoscope out of his bag, shielding Zeta with his body as he gently rolls her dress up, placing the instrument on her bare belly. He listens for a few minutes, his brow furrowing, and I will the ambulance to hurry the fuck up. His eyes dart to mine, and a lump the size of a rock forms at the back of my throat. I can’t even form words.
“The heartbeat is elevated. The baby could be in distress.”
“But he’s alive?” Mike asks, and I’ve never been more grateful because I couldn’t force the words out.
Noel nods. “Yes, but we need to get her to hospital asap.”
A flurry of activity at the other end of the venue draws my eye, and I almost collapse at the sight of the EMS medics running toward us. Behind them, I spot several police cars pulling up to the scene.
I step aside, feeling utterly useless and completely destroyed, as the medical personnel converse with Noel, and they get Zeta onto a stretcher. “Go.” Mike pushes me forward. “I’ll talk to the police and handle whatever needs to be handled, and I’ll meet you at the hospital.”
“Ren?” I croak.
“Dead. Denver shot him.”
I can’t even feel any relief because I feel dead inside myself, but I force myself to snap out of it, locking my emotions up because my wife and child need me to be strong.
Zeta doesn’t regain consciousness in the ambulance, and as I hold her hand, looking at her pale skin, the blood covering her immobile body, and the tubes and wires she’s hooked up to, I pray like I’ve never prayed before.
