Falling Angel

by Carmen Richter

  Standing in front of the door to her suite, I fired a shot right into the door lock. I turned the doorknob, but it wasn’t moving.

  Fuck. Had I actually just locked myself out of her room?

  “No!” I growled, throwing all of my weight against the door.

  The door shook on its hinges, but it didn’t move. I fired another shot, this time at the doorframe. The wood broke, so I was getting somewhere. With one more shove against the door, it finally broke free.

  A gunshot rang out, and I felt a blinding pain in my shoulder before I even registered what was happening.

  I looked right at the fucker who was standing between me and my doll with a smug look on his face, then pointed my gun and shot him in the chest.

  “Garth!” Daphne screamed. “Oh, my God!”

  He fell to the ground, yelling in pain.

  “Daph, run! Get out of here!” he told her.

  And as I took another step toward Daphne, she tried to make a run for it, just like he’d told her to. But I was faster and stronger, and I caught her in my arms.

  “No!” she screamed. “Let me go, Hugh! Help! Someone! Help me!”

  I slammed her against the wall and put a hand over her mouth to keep her from yelling anymore. Someone might think I was going to hurt her.

  Well, I would hurt her. But I had to punish her. I had to make her see who she belonged to.

  “You going to be quiet like a good girl?” I asked.

  She whimpered, but didn’t respond.

  “You don’t obey very well, do you, doll?” I said, using my other hand to finally touch her.

  My hand skimmed up her side, under her shirt. But then blinding pain seared through me as she hit me right on the gunshot wound in my shoulder.

  “Fuck, Daphne!” I screamed. “You’ll pay for that!”

  She spat in my face. “Fuck you.”

  “Oh, you’ve been fucking, all right. But it’s not me you’ve been fucking, is it? No, you’ve been fucking that moron, Ezra. You let him kiss you. Let him touch you. Let him stick his cock in you. Let him put a fucking baby in you!” I growled.

  Her eyes went wide. “No. No, no, no…oh, God.”

  “Yeah, that’s right, doll. I know all about that. I know about how you let him knock you up. And I know about that little brat he has on Long Island. I know all about you trying to play happy families with them. I could have left them alone, but you had to bring them into this. You had to let him touch what was mine. So now, they have to go. I can’t have anyone coming to look for you, can I?” I chuckled.

  “No. Please!” she sobbed. “She’s just a kid! She’s innocent! And he was just trying to protect me. Leave them out of this. I’m the one who didn’t listen. Kill me.”

  “Oh, I thought about it. But I can’t do that. I’ve worked too hard, waited for too long, to have you all to myself to let that little brat and her daddy take you from me. And now, I have you. You’re mine,” I said. “And I’ll make sure you never forget who you belong to again.”

  Fuck, I needed to get her out of here. Now. I needed to get her back to New York so I could show her who she belonged to. Teach her a lesson about fucking around with anyone else. I’d tie her to the bed and give her so many lashes with my flogger and my cat that her back was raw. I’d wrap my hand around her throat and squeeze until she could barely breathe as I fucked her hard and deep, making her forget every other cock she’d ever had in her. I’d make her choke on my cock as she took me balls-deep into her throat to show me how sorry she was for letting another man fuck her. I’d make her—

  My throbbing cock, unable to contain the rising pressure anymore, exploded, soaking the front of my pants. After I just fucking came not even half an hour ago.

  “What the fuck?” I groaned.

  Daphne let out something that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a sob. I slapped her again, and she yelped.

  “Are you fucking mocking me?!” I growled.

  “Get the fuck away from her!” a man yelled.

  “Ezra,” Daphne whimpered. “Thank God.”

  “Daph, get out of the way,” he ordered.

  I let another growl rip from my throat as I turned around to end this piece of shit once and for all. As I turned, I pushed through the searing pain in my shoulder to raise my gun, which had just one bullet left in it. Just enough to kill this motherfucker for fucking with my woman.

  But his gun was already raised, aimed right at my head. And a gunshot rang out before I could pull my trigger.

  I stood there in shock as the bullet lodged into my former manager’s head and his lifeless body crumpled to the floor.

  “Daph,” Ezra sighed in relief, clearing the distance to me in two strides. He claimed my lips in a searing kiss, then pulled me into his arms. “Thank fuck.”

  “Ezra,” I sniffled as I clung to him.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked, pulling back and cupping my face in his hands.

  I hissed a little as his thumb brushed over the spot where Hugh had slapped me. Twice.

  “What hurts, baby?” Ezra pressed.

  “He…he hit me,” I told him. “On my face.”

  “Motherfucker,” he growled.

  “It’s okay,” I sniffled. “I’ll be okay.”

  He kissed me again, but then a groan coming from the other side of the room reminded me that we weren’t the only two people here right now. And someone else was hurt way worse than I was.

  “Shit!” I exclaimed, looking over at the other person in the room. “Garth!”

  Ezra followed my gaze, and he immediately let go of me and rushed over to kneel next to Garth.

  “Fuck, Garth,” he choked out, pressing his hand to the wound on Garth’s chest.

  “I’m sorry, Ezra,” he groaned. “I couldn’t…I couldn’t stop him. I…tried.”

  “None of that. Save your strength, man,” Ezra said, then looked at me. “Daph, get me a couple of towels from the bathroom.”

  “I’m…fine,” Garth groaned. “Don’t—”

  His eyes fluttered closed.

  “No, open your eyes, Garth. Stay with me, man. Help’s on the way.” Ezra looked back up at me. “Daph. Towels. I need to try to get this bleeding slowed.”

  Towels. Right. I dashed into the bathroom, grabbing every towel I could find. But before I could go back to the living room, the bile that had been churning in my stomach ever since I’d heard that first gunshot finally decided to make an appearance.

  As soon as I was done losing my dinner, I ran back into the living room with the towels before even flushing the toilet or rinsing my mouth out. I handed Ezra the towels, but then the sight of Garth’s blood soaking through the carpet and Hugh’s lifeless body, still holding his gun, lying less than ten feet away made my stomach turn again.

  I barely made it back to the bathroom before I gave up another offering to the porcelain goddess. I heaved again and again and again. Even after there was nothing left to throw up, I just kept dry heaving as tears streamed down my face. I had to have been in there for at least twenty minutes when I heard someone else walk in.

  “Are you all right, honey? Are you hurt?” I heard an unfamiliar female voice ask.

  I shook my head. “I’m not…I’m not hurt.”

  “Can you tell me your name?”

  “Daphne,” I sniffled as I stood up and flushed the toilet, then turned around. “Daphne DeVille.”

  The woman chuckled warmly as she went to the sink and grabbed one of the glasses to fill it with water. I closed the lid on the toilet and sat down, taking the water from her and taking small sips.

  “Thought I recognized those pink highlights,” she said, pulling a badge out of her pocket and showing it to me. “I’m Special Agent Sara Green with the FBI, but you can call me Sara if you want. You up for answering some questions, Daphne?”

  “The man…the man who was shot. He’s one of my security guards. Is there someone who can help him?” I asked.

  “Which man
?” she asked.

  Right. There was more than one man who had been shot.

  “The blond man. Garth,” I clarified. “He was shot in the chest.”

  “He’s on his way to the hospital right now. He lost a lot of blood, but I think he’ll be just fine. Can you tell me who the other man who was shot is?”

  “He’s…he was…my manager. Hugh Shapiro. He’s been stalking me for almost six months. He shot his way into the room tonight and tried to kidnap me.”

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  I was about to tell her everything, and then realized that I’d be incriminating Ezra if I did. And I wasn’t about to be the reason he got arrested and went to jail. So, instead, I shook my head.

  “Take all the time you need, Daphne. I’m not going anywhere,” she said with a kind smile. “I know you’ve been through a lot tonight.”

  “You’ll arrest him,” I sniffled.

  “Who?” she asked.

  I shook my head, and she smiled again.

  “Your other guard? Ezra Ramsay?” she guessed.

  I didn’t say or do anything.

  “We’re not looking at him as a suspect. Agent Henry is in the living room with him getting a statement, but we’re not looking to file charges,” she told me. “Would it make you feel more comfortable if I brought you out there so you can see that Ezra’s not in cuffs?”

  I gave her a small nod.

  “Come with me,” she murmured.

  We walked into the living room, and I sighed in relief when I saw Jack Henry sitting with Ezra. Garth was gone—hopefully on his way to the hospital—and Hugh’s body was gone too.

  “Daph,” Ezra sighed.

  I sat down next to him, and he pulled me into his arms and kissed the top of my head. I slid my arms around his waist and rested my head on his shoulder. Jack looked at me and smiled warmly.

  “How are you holding up, Daphne?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  Was it weird that I didn’t really feel anything? Someone was dead. Someone I’d known for close to four years. Someone I’d worked with since I’d started performing.

  But he was also someone who had built a room to keep me prisoner in and someone who would have abducted me if Ezra hadn’t come in when he did. So, more than anything, I was relieved. I was relieved that it was finally over. That I didn’t have to look over my shoulder and wonder who was hiding in the shadows anymore.

  “Are you hurt at all?” Jack asked.

  I shook my head.

  “You sure you don’t need to get checked out, angel?” Ezra pressed, discreetly sliding his hand down to touch my stomach. “You fell a few feet when your rig got shot down.”

  I couldn’t help smiling a little at his concern for our son or daughter in the middle of this craziness.

  “I’m sure. I’m okay. I promise,” I told him. “It doesn’t even hurt.”

  “How far along are you, Daphne?” Sara asked.

  Damn it. Maybe I didn’t have to worry about Hugh hurting me anymore, but I still didn’t want to announce this pregnancy to the world yet. She must have seen the hesitation to admit it on my face, because she just chuckled.

  “Your secret’s safe with me. It’s not my place to say anything,” she promised. “I’m just trying to figure out if we should have some paramedics come check you out here.”

  “Um…I think like six or seven weeks. I just found out today,” I sniffled.

  “She should be fine, Dad,” she announced. “Daphne, if you notice any cramping or bleeding, have him take you to the ER. Otherwise, you should be okay.”

  “Daphne, we do need to get statements from you and Ezra, and it would go a lot faster if we went down to the field office,” Jack said. “Are you up for that?”

  I sighed. “I guess. Um…I hate to be this person, but is there a back door or something that you can take me out of?”

  “Yeah, we can definitely do that,” Sara said.

  “Is it okay if I grab a hoodie? Just to have something to cover my hair? It’s kind of a dead giveaway,” I said, feeling heat rise to color my cheeks.

  “You’re not under arrest, sweetheart,” she told me. “You can completely change out of those clothes if you want to. We’ll wait for you.”

  It took forever to give a statement to the FBI. Not only did I have to talk to them about what had been happening for the past several months, but I had to tell them about my dealings with Hugh in a professional capacity too. But I didn’t have anything to hide. I just told the truth.

  When I was done giving my statement, Sara sighed.

  “I’m sorry to break this news to you when you’re already going through so much, but Joshua Griffin was found dead at the stadium tonight,” she told me. “The New York office executed a search of Hugh Shapiro’s home and office, and there was evidence that he was working with Mr. Griffin. It seems like Mr. Griffin had a little bit of a gambling problem and owed a loan shark quite a bit of money. Mr. Shapiro kept telling him that he’d pay off his gambling debts if he did as he was told.”

  “Oh, my God.” I choked on a sob. “That’s…that’s how he knew. How he knew everything I was doing almost before I did it. And that’s how he got the pictures of me backstage. Because Josh was helping him.”

  “I also think you should know that it appears you weren’t Mr. Shapiro’s first victim. They found photographs of four other women in the same room he sent you pictures of. All of them have been reported missing over the past six years. We haven’t found remains yet, but we’re re-opening their cases as murder investigations. Hopefully, we can give their families some closure.”

  More tears welled up as I processed this turn of events.

  My manager wasn’t just stalking me; he was a serial killer. Now he was dead.

  Josh was dead too, and he’d been working with Hugh to help him keep tabs on me while I was touring.

  I’d narrowly escaped being abducted as Hugh’s latest victim tonight.

  Surprisingly, while I was relieved that Hugh was dead, I did shed some tears hearing about Josh. He wasn’t a bad guy. Yeah, he was kind of a jerk, but he did his job as my tour manager well. And really, he’d only turned into a jerk since Hugh had started stalking me. It was actually kind of sad that Hugh had found out about his financial problems and used that information against him, and it was devastating that it had ended up costing him his life.

  “Um…I don’t know if you’re allowed to do this, but is there any way I can get some contact information for Josh’s family?” I asked. “I’d like to pay for his funeral expenses if they’ll let me.”

  “We haven’t made notification yet,” she said sympathetically. “Otherwise I would.”

  “Can I give you my number and email address and have you pass it on to them? Let them know it goes right to me. I don’t have a manager for it to go to anymore anyway,” I sniffled.

  “Yeah, that we can do. I’ll coordinate with our New York agents. That’s really generous of you,” she said with a smile as she handed me a pen and a piece of paper. “Agent Henry is still with Ezra, but you’re welcome to wait for him here if you want to, so you don’t have to be around the general public. I get the feeling you’re not up for autographs and pictures right now.”

  “Not so much, no,” I agreed, chuckling weakly.

  “Can I get you anything? Water? Ginger ale? Some saltines to snack on?”

  “Some water would be great.”

  She left and was back in another minute with a bottle of water. Then she squeezed my shoulder.

  “I’ll leave you alone, but if you need me, I’m just through this door here. Okay?” she told me.

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  Sara walked out of the room, and I pulled my phone out of my pocket. The first thing I did was call Mel to have him get my bus set up so Ezra and I could spend the night there. I didn’t even want to have the hotel get me to a different suite. I just wanted to be completely alone with Ezra tonig
ht. I didn’t want to have to see people at all.

  Then I called Taylor. I didn’t want to be alone, but I also didn’t want to talk to everyone about this just yet. I’d tell the girls soon, but I couldn’t handle that right now. I just needed my person.

  “D?” he answered groggily. “What’s wrong? What time is it?”

  “T,” I sobbed. “I need you.”

  “I’m here, babe,” he assured me. “What happened?”

  I took a deep breath and told him everything that happened tonight. Saying it all out loud made me start crying all over again.

  Damn it, what was taking Jack and Ezra so long? I needed my boyfriend right now and he was playing twenty questions with the damn FBI.

  “D…fuck…I…fuck,” Taylor said when I was done recounting my tale.

  I heard Alex’s voice in the background, but I didn’t hear what he was saying.

  “It’s Daphne. I’ll tell you in a bit,” Taylor told him. “Are you sure you’re all right, babe? Do you need me to come out to Seattle or meet you in Portland? Alex can take time off work to take care of Pen.”

  “I’m sure. The fall from my harness didn’t even hurt, and I’ll probably have a shiner tomorrow where Hugh hit me, but that’s what stage makeup is for,” I sniffled.

  “You gonna cancel your tour?” he asked.

  “I can’t cancel on this short notice. That would be more of a nightmare than trying to figure out what to do until I can find a new manager,” I sighed. “The show must go on, right? I’m going to call the agency Hugh worked for tomorrow and see if they can send someone out. I’m breaking my contract with them, and I’ll sue their asses if they try to stop me, but after this shit show, they fucking owe me.”

  “And then some,” he agreed.

  “At least we have a couple of free days before the show in Portland for me to figure something out,” I sighed. “Travel day tomorrow, and another free day there before the show. Which means I get to stuff my face with Voodoo Donuts.”

  He chuckled. “You and your sweet tooth. Need some Galaxy? I have a few bars to spare.”