He takes a deep breath. “Because you have a shitty track record. You care more about your pride than your own safety.” He glares at his radio, like it will make the car get here faster.
Tears catch in my throat. “Fuck you! I stand up for myself, but I would never,everput someone in danger just to protect my pride. Why the Hell would you—”
Something snaps. He whirls on me. “Because I’d die for you!” He bellows.
My whole body jerks. “Excuseme?”
“I’d die for you,” he repeats, his chest heaving. The streetlights light him up from behind, drenching him in bright highlights and sharp shadows. “I’d do anything to keep you safe. Anything. I’m sorry if you don’t like the way I did it, but every decision I make, I make to keep you safe! Because the idea of losing youfucking terrifies me!”
“That doesn’t give you an excuse tolieto me!” I shout back. “This is inexcusable, Matt! You can’t hide this shit from someone! You can’t let someone accidentally endanger hundreds of people, just because you don’t trust them with the truth!”
He opens his mouth to respond—then his eyes travel over my shoulder, widening. He wraps his arms around my waist, yanking me into him.
I try to struggle away. “No, no, I don’t forgive you, don’ttouch me—”
And then all of the air leaves my lungs as he throws me to the ground and slams his body on top of mine, right as an explosion rips through the square.
Forty-Three
Briar
?
For a few seconds, everything is complete chaos.
Fans scream behind the barriers, some ducking down, others staggering backwards. I hear shrieks as people get trampled. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my costars dropping to their knees, choking. Most of the videographers stay standing, panning their cameras over the panic.
A thick, foul-smelling smoke is spreading through the square, grey and heavy. It tickles my throat, and I cough as it fills my mouth and lungs. I can’tbreathe. Panic stabs me, and a terrified whimper falls out of my mouth as I claw at the asphalt under my hands.
I feel Matt touching my face, and I realise he’s talking into his radio. “I’ve got her.” He strokes my cheek. “Shh. Shh. Shallow breaths, princess. You’re okay. Try not to panic, I’ve got you.”
I squint through the smoke, but it’s just getting thicker, and I can barely see a metre in front of me. “Where’s Kenta and Glen?” I squeak, but I don’t think he hears me over the screaming.
His radio hisses.“Suspect spotted,” a female voice says, then sputters off into choking. “Qu-quadrant f-five, by the entrance.”
Matt swears. “Stay down,” he says in my ear, then pulls himself off me.
“No!” I shout, reaching for him. My fingers brush the hem of his jacket.
Another explosion rocks through the crowd.
This one feels even worse than the first. There’s an awful tearing sound, and then a crash. I look up and realise the rigging that’s been holding up the giant movie posters has fallen, smashing heavy iron bars into the crowd.
“Matt!” I scream, but there’s no response. He’s gone. He’sgone.
Suddenly, a hand grabs me around the throat, yanking me backwards and upright. I’m pulled into a man’s chest.
“NO!” I shout, jabbing my elbow hard into his stomach. There’s a low grunt, but no other reaction. He starts to tug me away from the carpet, through the chaos. Struggling, I manage to wriggle a hand free, fumbling at my clutch and yanking out the tube of pepper spray. Fiddling with the cap, I twist and spray it where I’m guessing X’s face is. “GET OFF ME!”
The guy swears, letting me go, and I stagger away.
The smoke is so thick I can’t see anything. It’s completely opaque. I don’t even know what direction I’m going. There’s another explosion, this one further away, and I double over as I run, hacking coughs wracking my body. I slam into someone. They reach out to grab at me, but I just shake them off, plunging forward. Out. I need to get out. I kick off my heels as I run, but barely make it three more steps before I trip, falling face-first onto something warm and soft. I feel silky hair under my fingers and pull away like I’ve been burned.
A body. Oh my God.
“BRIAR!” I hear someone bellow through the smoke, and warmth erupts in my chest as I recognise Glen’s throaty Scottish accent. I scrabble to stand upright, turning towards the voice—
Something slams onto my mouth and nose. A damp cloth. A sour, chemical smell fills my nostrils, and I cough, trying to shove it away. The hand on my face just clamps the cloth down harder, forcing me to breathe in. A thick arm snakes around my waist, holding me in place. Tears fill my eyes as I feel my head start to get fuzzy.
