“Shh, come here.” Kieran opened his arms, pulling her into his embrace. “We will get him,” he promised her.He hoped.
He heard Ian giving orders to tighten the perimeter.Where was this guy?
“Monique, one outfit ahead of you,” a man called. “You’re walking alone. Center aisle.”
She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t do this.” She shook her head. “George can’t die.”
“We are getting him to the hospital quickly.” He met her eyes. “Call for a break.” Kieran asked for the stage manager. No one was going to fight him. Monique seemed relieved that Kieran asked for the timeout.
After fifteen minutes, he cuddled her tighter. “Beautiful, you are as strong as you are gorgeous. You are not going to let this lunatic get the better of you.” He kissed the top of her head. “But, you don’t have to do this.”
She clutched his hands and took a deep breath. “Oui.”
She checked her hair, repaired her makeup and moved to the doorway, then Kieran stepped next to her. “Please, Madame, I’d be honored to escort you.”
Her blue eyes shone with unshed tears. After checking his tie, Monique slipped her shaking hand on his elbow. Together they stepped out onto the makeshift catwalk. “My handsome bear,” she whispered. “Tell me I can do this.” Her voice quivered.
“You can do this. But you don’t have to.” He smiled. He wished she would opt out, but he knew she would not back out of her commitment. Under his breath, he spoke into his comm, “All operators report.”
Kieran offered her his arm. Her grip was like a vise. “Nice and easy.” They stepped onto the runway. He listened to his operators’ reports as they made their way to the end of the walkway. His gut whirred as they stood in the open. She was a perfect target.
At her whispered instructions, Kieran twirled her into his arms. Monique placed a sensuous kiss to his lips. He twirled her back and pulled her to his side. The air felt electric. The crowd was thrilled, but he could see the tension flicker across her forehead.
They began the return trip to the relative safety of the dressing room. Kieran counted down the steps back to the door. “Count with me,” he whispered.
A rumble of breaking furniture and yells came from one of the adjoining dining rooms. A tall woman flew out of the room, a silenced weapon pointed at Kieran and Monique.
“Kieran!” Monique screamed.
She tried to pull away from him to run. He increased the strength of his grasp. “Gun!” He wrapped his arm around her. “I’ve got you.”
Shielding her body with his, he pressed her to the ground, and with the other he pulled his gun. “Cover your ears.” His command was followed by a barrage of gunfire. Silence and the smell of smoke and copper floated around them.
Monique shook hard beneath him, crying. “It’s alright. It’s alright. Shh.” He offered consoling words but refused to budge until he was sure she was safe.
He remained on top of her until he heard, “CLEAR.”
Relieved, he rolled off her and helped her sit up. “Beautiful, are you okay?” He scanned her, looking for any injuries.
“I’m… I’m fine. Is it over?” She took his face between her quaking hands. Suddenly, she shrieked. “Kieran!Mon dieux. Aidez nous.” Bright red blood was soaking through his crisp white shirt.
* * *
Monique and Iansat on either side of the unconscious Kieran in the recovery room. The bullet had torn through his shoulder. “He risked his life to save me.” She rested her hand on his. “Why did they do this?” She looked to Ian for answers.
“It’s a bit complicated.” Ian pressed his lips together. “Auguste Deanne was your stalker.”
“But a woman attacked me. And you said she was dead?” Monique sniffed.
“He died in the hospital. The doctors were able to put some things together before he passed. Auguste and Gustie Deanne shared a flat in Paris. Gustie worshipped you. She wanted to be a model. According to our research, she got picked up by a predatory modeling agency. When the first set of photos didn’t sell, she was told she wasn’t thin enough,” Ian said.
“Cocaine? Heroin?” Monique blew out a breath.
“Both.” Ian shook his head. “After her death, Auguste lost it. He blamed you for her death. If she didn’t love you, she wouldn’t have wanted to be like you. Gustie worshipped you. Likely unstable to begin with, he was unable to tolerate any angry thoughts about his sister, so he focused them on you. An internal emotional battle began: hate you, love you. He couldn’t reconcile both feelings and split into two.
“You remembered Auguste from the food truck on the Seraphina shoot, but we scanned secondary pictures and found him dressed as Gustie in multiple photographs. He was also dressed as Auguste in secondary photos taken at the beach shoot. I need to apologize for him getting that close to you. He exploited our weakness and came in as a female guest. Our research hadn’t caught up.” Ian frowned, then patted his brother’s leg.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Kieran mumbled, his eyes opening. “How’s my doll baby?” He smiled at her, attempting to focus through the sedation.
