“A bloodbath,” I agree. “Hey, do you have any not-sexist questions? Those are my favourite kind—”
A hand closes around my arm, and I jump, spinning to see Matt looming over me. He’s dressed sloppily, his suit wrinkled and his tie crooked, but he still outshines pretty much every man on the carpet. For a split second, happiness sparks in my belly.He changed his mind. He came.
Then I register the anger hardening his sharp features. “You’re leaving,” he rumbles. “Now.”
“Matt?” I squawk. “What are you doing here?”
He ignores me, pulling me away from the journalist and across the carpet to the exit. I try to shake him off me, but his grip is like iron. “Get off me! Don’t pull me around!”
I see my co-stars look away from their interviews, concern crossing their faces. Liam, the movie’s villain, actually steps away from his journalist and reaches for me.
“Briar? Are you alright?”
“Out of my way,” Matt barks.
Liam frowns, putting his hands up. “Look, man, it doesn't look like she wants to go with you—”
Matt just tightens his fingers on my arm and drags me away.
“Ow!” I dig my heels in. “Stop! You’ll leave marks on me! And then I’ll be in a domestic abuse scandal! For God’s sake, what is wrong with you? Let mego.”
“You promised,” he mutters, his eyes fixed straight ahead as we plough through the crowd. He’s seething; anger is rolling off his body like physical heat. “Youpromisedyou would trust me.”
“I promised I wouldtry,” I hiss back. “How the Hell am I meant to trust you when you constantly belittle my work? You don’t treat me like an equal, you keep me in the dark about my own safety—” I trip over my heels, and he grabs me, gently righting me. I shove him off. “You’ve done nothing toearnmy trust. All you’re doing is shit-talking my job and ordering me around! I’m sick of it! You might think my contract isn’t important, but I’m going to do myuseless,meaninglessjob whether you approve or not, so you might as well—”
He turns a corner and presses me up against the brick wall of the cinema.
“He’s made bombs, Briar!” He snaps out. “He’s here, and he’s made bombs. This has nothing to do with yourjob,and if you say one more word about it—”
He keeps talking, but my ears are full of static. Everything in me freezes. For a second, I can’t breathe. “What?” I whisper, interrupting his tirade.
His blue eyes burn into mine. “He’s threatened to blow up the whole event if he can’t get his hands on you. We have to get you out of here, now.”
I stagger a step back, almost tripping in my heels. Horror is flooding through me. “D-did you know?”
“The FBI found traces of explosives in his motel room this morning,” he says stiffly.
“Thismorning?!”
He reaches for me again, but I push away from him. My head is spinning.
“Why? Why wouldn’t you tell me?” I look around the red carpet. Fans scream and press up against the barriers, waving phones and posters to sign. There must be three hundred people invited to watch the screening tonight. Nausea rises up in my throat as I see a handful of tween girls huddled together. “There are… children here,” I gasp. Matt says something, but I can’t hear it. Panic is sweeping through me in a strong, sickly wave. “Get me out,” I whisper. When he doesn’t move, I throw myself at him, shoving my body into his chest. “Get me the Hellout.Now!”
Matt puts his arm around my shoulder and keeps leading me along the edges of the carpet towards one of the exits. We pass the wide-eyed studio director, who hurries to follow us. “Briar, sweetheart, you’re not leaving, are you? The screening is in fifteen minutes, we need you ready to make your speech!”
We both ignore him, swanning right past.
“I hate you,” I whisper. “How dare you do this to me? How dare you put me in a position where I could get all these people hurt without evenrealisingit?!”
“You can fire us when we’re out of here,” he grinds out, looking around. His radio crackles, and I hear a woman’s voice rattle off a string of numbers that I don’t understand. Some kind of code.
“Oh, trust me, I will. What the Hell is wrong with you?” I shake my head. “When we get home, I never want to see you again.”
His hand tightens on my wrist. “Fine.”
I don’t even realise I’m crying until tears start rolling down my cheeks. We reach the edge of the carpet, and Matt tugs me to a stop, pulling me behind a hanging sign. “Here.” He grabs his radio. “I have Princess. Bring the car to exit point two,” he barks. “Now.”
I yank my wrist out of his grip, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why the Hell wouldn’t you tell me?” I demand.
