by Ani Keating
“Yes. Here is the deal, Javier,” Aiden pauses as though to emphasize the fact that he used Javier’s first name. “As you no doubt know, Elisa will be under strict scrutiny from the U.S. government in a few weeks from her source of income to her moral character. Any incident with the law enforcement—any at all—and they may blink.”
Javier nods. “I know that.”
“I don’t want them to blink once. Is that clear?” The words sound like a command.
“I don’t want them to blink either.”
“Good, then I believe we’re on the same page.” Aiden’s voice softens.
Javier nods again. “Yes, I think we are,” he pauses, then adds, “I won’t let anything happen to her. I promise.”
“Thank you. Enjoy your evening,” Aiden says politely.
I yank the phone from Javier before either of them can say another word. “Aiden?”
“Elisa, I need you to be careful. No matter what, your—safety—comes—first. Understood?” His voice is hoarse with anxiety. I can almost sense his rippling tension through the phone.
“Yes, I’ll be careful—don’t worry. I’ll see you when I get home.” Home? Bloody hell, did I just call his house, my home?
“I’ll be waiting.” A note of sadness enters his voice.
“I miss you.”
A sigh. “I miss you too.”
“You do?”
“If it will make you believe me, I have a picture of you sleeping as a screensaver. Now go have fun with your friends.” His voice softens.
I don’t hang up. I can’t move a finger after what he just told me. “Go, Elisa,” he orders.
I love you. “Okay,” I grumble and hang up, right as Reagan hits the brakes and parks sideways across two spots.
I look out of the window. We are in a multilevel concrete parking lot, lit up by fluorescents. Bloody hell, how did I miss the entire trip here?
“Where are we?” I ask, searching for road signs.
Reagan and Javier turn to me with identical grins on their faces, Reagan holding an envelope with glitter and Hello Kitty stickers—probably work of Anamelia.
“Da-da-da-dah!” she sings in the tune of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony and hands me the envelope.
I laugh and tear it open, pulling out a ticket stub.
“Dog’s bollocks!” I squeal as I read it. “We’re going to a Lana Del Rey concert?”
Reagan starts bouncing on her seat and clapping. “Yes, yes, yes. Right this very minute.”
I squeal again and squeeze myself between the two of them, trying to hug them both. Reagan and I break into “This Is What Makes Us Girls” at the exact same second.
Javier covers his ears and shouts above our crowing. “All right, all right, let’s get going. We’re already five minutes late and the Coliseum is sold out. Ten thousand crazies like you two.” He pretends to shudder.
“Yes, yes, yes.” Reagan sings again. We stumble out of the car, sprinting down the block to the Coliseum. A few other stragglers are racing us to the front doors, singing “Million Dollar Man”.
“Javier,” I huff as I run in my new Louboutin heels in a way that may cost my neck at least two vertebras. “Reg…wait! Have to text…Aiden.”
“We’ll text him inside, Isa,” Javier says. “C’mon, let’s just find our spots.”
“This is what makes us girls!” Reagan keeps screaming.
Barking mad! We finally make it through the doors, terrifying the bouncer with Reagan’s Lana impression, and spill into the Coliseum arena. The moment I see it, my knees almost buckle. Strobe lights and reflectors spin across the endless dark stadium, fracturing over the hordes of bodies. Shoulder to shoulder, back to belly, chanting “Lana! Lana!”
“We’re in the front, first level,” Javier yells behind us. We bump, shove and elbow our way until we reach our spots.
I throw my camera over my neck, sling my purse across my body and pull out my phone to text Aiden. I thumb it three times because the sea of bodies is already rising into a slow wave of motion.
Don’t burn anything down.
We’re at a Lana Del Rey concert.
Coliseum. 1st level. 4th row. Center.
Safe. Miss u. C u soon.
I read it twice. I cannot imagine the terror it will give Aiden just to hear where we are. His worst nightmare coming true—me in a huge crowd where he can’t get to me if something happened. I only hope Benson can calm him down. I press Send, watching the message bubble float on the screen. Delivered, the iPhone informs me. Almost instantly, three dots appear on the screen. Then they disappear and appear again—four more times. Finally, Aiden manages a response.
I’m sending Benson to be with you.
He’ll be there in 15 minutes.
No arguments if you value my sanity.
Oh, bloody hell! Poor Benson. I text back.
Don’t bother Benson.
Besides it’s sold out.
I’ll be OK. Security everywhere.
The three dots blink on the screen once. Twice. Then they’re gone.
I wait. And wait. The only frozen body in ten thousand who suddenly break into a scream. I look up startled, and see her!
Lana looks smaller in person—in simple jeans with a retro Hollywood charm. She waves modestly and glides to the center. The Coliseum goes pitch black. An eerie silence falls over the crowd, static with anticipation. Then her sultry voice rises in the air, crooning “This Is What Makes Us Girls”. Thousands of phone screens, glowsticks and lighters ignite around me.
The very floor is reverberating with movement. Then, abruptly, the vibrations become a stampede as Lana starts “Million Dollar Man”. Reagan screams, along with all ten thousand others—except maybe Javier who, as always in public, tries to keep a low profile. The words are so vivid, so reminiscent of my own million-dollar man that suddenly, I want to dance my feet off. I clutch Reagan’s and Javier’s hands and we start swaying together, their brilliant smiles gleaming from the flashes. For a brief moment, I wish I could snap a picture of us like this—carefree, laughing, young. Chanting as Lana finishes the song and starts trilling “Summertime Sadness”.
The stadium erupts. No more swaying, only dancing. A violent, unleashed rhythm too fast for the song, as though it keeps time with feelings, not music. Sparklers flare and blaze around us—their gold and silver flames held up by thousands of hands. We break apart, and I start spinning and shimmying, clutching Mum’s dress, feeling like she is dancing with us too. Reagan whirls next to me. We jump and hop—faster, faster—stomping on the floor in a strange, euphoric freedom. Smoke swirls around us, glistening from the flashes. It’s getting hot. Hotter. Burning. A piercing scream. Then another. Suddenly, I’m shoved headfirst into the throng. Something is ripped over my head. A battery of rapid, hard slaps explodes on my legs and thighs. I writhe and jerk away but two strong arms swoop under me and I’m lifted in the smoky air.
“Miss Snow! Elisa!” A voice yells in my ear. I know that voice. It’s Benson. He’s here and holding me tightly to his chest. “You’re okay, you’re fine!” he yells again as he starts darting in the crowd, shoving and pushing bodies out of our path.
“Benson, what happened?” I shout, as flashes of light break over his face. “Where’s Reagan? Javier?” I wriggle in his arms, searching for red and black curls in the darkness. Benson’s hold tightens and in seconds, we plunge through the front doors into cold, fresh air. Before I can blink, the doors open again and Reagan sprints through them.
“Isa!” she cries, her hair flying in the wind.
“Reagan!” I reach with both my hands toward her, almost falling over Benson’s shoulder. “Are you okay? Where’s Javier? What happened?”
Benson stops at the corner of the main gate, leaning me against the Coliseum’s concrete wall and throwing his jacket over my shoulde
rs. Somehow he has my camera in hand. Reagan reaches us in seconds, gasping. I hug her tightly, patting her face and arms to make sure she has all ten fingers and all ten toes.
“Isa! Holy fuck, are you okay?” she screams, doing the same with me.
“I’m fine! Never mind me, what—” But then I see it. I see it in her eyes first, then in Benson’s, who is towering over us. I follow their horror-struck gaze to my bare legs covered in pink welts. Where Mum’s dress used to be. It’s now in tatters, barely covering the tops of my thighs, the strips of silk blackened and curled by fire. They disintegrate before my eyes, blowing in the wind.
“No!” The word comes out like a sob from my lips. I start chasing the ashes, clutching the air with my fists. “No!” I gasp again as the silky dust flies into the night and disappears. I race after it anyway. “Please,” I pant. “Please!”
“Elisa!” A beautiful voice roars behind me and faster than any motion should catch up with sound, Aiden’s arms wrap around me. He lifts me and cradles me to his chest.
“Baby, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did someone touch you?” He is frantic, his hand flying to my forehead, my cheeks, resting on my throat, taking my pulse.
I find his eyes. They’re wide with terror. Yet, they halt my tears. Air flows again in my lungs and I throw my arms around his neck, inhaling his scent. Inhaling deeply, wanting none of the silky dust inside me. Only him.
“Baby, talk to me!” he says, his voice cracking.
“I’m okay. Don’t worry. I just…I caught fire, I think. I’m not really sure—what are you doing here?” My words are whooshing in the wind too.
He whirls around with me in his arms, and I see Benson sprinting toward us, Reagan behind him. Where is Javier?
“What the fuck happened?” Aiden explodes at Benson. His voice is so loud that I put my hands over my ears.
“Some fucking idiot behind her dropped a sparkler, sir, and her dress caught fire. Right as I got there. I swatted it down before it burned her skin but I think I hit too hard. I’m sorry, sir.” Benson shakes his head, eyes wide.
Aiden is turning into solid titanium around me. He covers my legs with Benson’s jacket, scanning every inch of my welted skin. His jaw is locked so hard that a thick vein is bulging in his neck.
“Aiden, shh,” I whisper in his ear. “I’m okay. Shh. Hydrogen, 1.008—”
“The Rover, Benson.” His voice is low, guttural, the words distorted. His fingers dig into my flesh. Benson sprints toward the parking lot, his massive frame much too nimble for his size.
“Reagan, where’s Javier?” I ask, rubbing the back of Aiden’s neck.
She shrugs. “He kind of disappeared when the security guards came to deal with the fire.”
Aiden’s rib cage expands. His muscles start vibrating. “Thank goodness!” I say to them both, reaching for my purse to call Javier. But it’s not on my hip where I slung it before.
“Reg, have you seen my purse?” I ask, trying to keep a calm voice for Aiden.
“No.” She frowns, looking back at the Coliseum gate.
I try to remember what I had inside. Phone, ChapStick, my debit card. I can cancel that if it’s stolen. Right now, I just need to breathe for Aiden.
“How did you get here?” I whisper, rubbing his neck. He doesn’t answer so I press on to get him to talk. “Aiden, sweetheart, talk to me. What are you doing here?”
“How could I sit at home with you in that crowd?” he says in that same guttural voice, and a violent shudder runs through him.
“Shh, I’m fine. How did Benson get in without a ticket?”
“I know the security detail.”
“Of course you do. My protector,” I whisper in his ear, hoping to lighten the mood but for some reason, he tenses again. Unable to comprehend his terror, I continue to rub his neck. A set of tires squeals on the pavement from the direction of the parking lot and the Rover flies through the gate. At that same moment, the Coliseum doors burst open for the third time and Javier runs out, carrying my purse and scanning the entrance frantically.
“Javier!” I call, waving. “We’re here, we’re okay!”
No. We are not okay. We are not okay at all. Because Aiden’s shoulders just creaked in my ear and a low, deep growl whirls in his chest. His eyes go blank—the way a man might turn off in order to execute someone.
“Aiden, look at me,” I whisper but he doesn’t. He stares at Javier, who is jogging toward us.
In seconds, the Rover screeches to a stop on Aiden’s left. Without a word, he opens the back door and lowers me on the seat. He moves sharply, like a machine. He cocoons me in Benson’s jacket, eyes unblinking.
“Get Miss Starr in the car,” he fires off at Benson, and slams my door so hard the Rover shakes. He whirls to face Javier. Peripherally, I see Benson usher Reagan to my side but I cannot look away from Aiden’s back. It’s rippling, the muscles’ vibration now visible under his blue shirt. I’m abruptly afraid for Javier.
“Aiden!” I call through the inch-open window but he does not react.
Javier comes to a sudden halt a few feet away. I don’t know what he sees in Aiden’s face but it must be something else because his eyes widen and he takes two steps back.
“Where were you?” Aiden’s voice whips through the air, colder than I’ve ever heard it.
Javier swallows once. “What do you mean, Mr. Hale?”
“I mean where were you when your adopted sister was almost burned alive?” Aiden clenches his teeth on the last two words.
Javier looks at me in the window. His eyes deepen and his eyebrows quiver. “I’m sorry,” he mouths.
“It’s okay, Javier. It was not your fault. Aiden, please! It was an accident!” I call, knowing that if I can hear them, they can hear me.
Javier looks at Aiden. “I—I had to step away,” he stutters.
“You had to step away? You had to step away while her mother’s dress went up in flames and now she has to miss one more thing in her life. Why?” Aiden explodes, his voice so thunderous that I jolt back in my seat, colliding with Reagan, who is watching over my shoulder.
“I saw the guards come in. I didn’t mean—”
“You promised to take care of her!” Aiden roars. “Did you even think to grab her before slinking off? Or do you keep your promises only when convenient?”
“Aiden, stop!” I shout, rattling the door.
He takes two steps toward Javier, his voice dropping to a vicious, low timbre. “Let me make you a promise, Mr. Solis. If anything happens to her again while she is with you—whether she breaks a fucking nail or ICE itself comes after her—you will be tango dancing across the Mexican border with one leg. And I keep my promises.”
Reagan gasps. It’s the last sound I hear before the world goes silent. My hair stands on end and I taste metal at a sharp bite on my own tongue. I shove at the car door—not to get Aiden’s attention but to rip it open.
Javier’s shoulders hunch a little but he nods. “You’re right, Mr. Hale.” His voice is very quiet. “I screwed up tonight. But I have a question for you. If you want her so safe, where were you? Not your henchman or your money—you!” He points at Aiden, then looks at me. “See you tomorrow, Isa,” he says and stomps off toward the parking lot, my purse still in his hand.
“Isa,” Reagan whispers, shaking my shoulder. “You have to rein Aiden in or you’ll end up losing them both. Talk to him. I’m going to drive Javier home.”
I can’t speak over the tangy rage in my mouth. She gets out of the car and starts running after Javier. Benson leans close to Aiden and mouths something. There is no movement from Aiden whatsoever but he must react somehow because Benson nods and retreats some distance away.
Aiden does not move for a while. Then, slowly, his back relaxes. At last, he turns to face me, eyes lightening. But for the first time, I detest my effec
t on him. I don’t want to numb anything about what just happened. He strides back to the Rover. With every step he takes, my anger becomes static. My throat starts burning as though it’s warming up for a scream.
He opens my door. “Come, Elisa, let’s go.” He reaches to pick me up.
“Don’t touch me!” The words slip out of my gritted teeth.
“What the—” He stops, his eyes widening as though he is seeing me for the very first time.
“Are you so blind that even with your genius brain, you have no idea that you just humiliated Javier in the worst possible way?”
The V cracks between his eyebrows. “You must be joking! He put you in danger!”
“He did nothing of the sort.”
His jaw locks. “Elisa, he left you behind. You could have been burned.”
“But I wasn’t! And even if I had been, I’m not his responsibility. He looks after me because he cares, not because it’s his job. And now you’ve made him feel like a failure when he’s a big reason I’m here at all.”
“Better him feeling guilty than you being torched alive!”
“Enough!” I shout. “Enough with this saving Elisa rubbish. From our first night together, you’ve tried your best to push me away. Well, your threat to Javier was so disgusting that you may have just succeeded.”
He is frozen. His mouth parts slightly. His eyes still until they resemble solid glass. For a moment, he just stares at me. Then, he blinks. “Elisa, you’re upset and you’ve had a long day. Let’s just go home and we’ll talk about this later.”
“I’m going home with Reagan. Now let me go!”
I’ve hit something because his eyes shift and fade. “Your home is with me,” he says, a wounded edge in his voice.
“No, it isn’t! I don’t know what I have with you, but it’s not home. It’s…it’s—” I look around the car as though the word may materialize there. “It’s a rampage or something. Like you’re trying to save me to make up for God knows what. Why? Am I just another rescue mission here? Or do you actually care about me?”
He draws up to his full height and looks away from me, eyes fixed in the distance, past the Coliseum. He says nothing.
