The Praetorian

by Dawn L. Chiletz

  As Roman enters the room, he lifts his arms in the air and the fake guests cheer. There are around twenty of them. This is going to be hard.

  Pressing a hand to my earpiece, I think I hear Logan.

  “Holy fuck. We’re going to have to split up.”

  Cedric’s deep voice is clear. “I’m headed up toward the front behind Roman as we speak.”

  “I’m behind you,” Logan replies.

  “This is Tori. I’ll cover the right near the bar.”

  “I’ve got the left near the red couch,” Raul says.

  “I’m going dead center,” Kari announces.

  “I’ll take the back, near the buffet,” I say.

  “Go, go, go,” Cedric commands. “Principal is standing to the left of the blue floor.”

  I move toward the buffet. Various guests fill their plates. I scope them out. Dark blue tux, blond hair, walk is normal. Red dress, she has a cane. I make a mental note. It could be a weapon, or maybe I’m just paranoid as fuck. This sure feels real.

  Think, Reed, think. You’re a cop. You watch people all the time. You’ll know someone suspicious when you see them. Breathe.

  “I’ve got a quiet loner near the bar,” Tori says. “He hasn’t made contact with anyone since I’ve been here.”

  “Watch him, Tori,” Logan replies.

  Roman moves to the bar, and two women follow him. Tori is standing nearby. Someone steps in front of him and I lose sight of him.

  “Headed to the bar,” Raul announces.

  Moving forward, I get him back in my line of vision and take a deep breath. A leggy brunette grabs his arm and flips her hair, laughing as if he said the funniest thing she’s ever heard.

  Kari speaks. “Principal has contact with red dress near the bar. Not in distress.”

  I’m in distress, I think to myself. He leans on the bar and gazes into her eyes. She whispers in his ear. His eyes search the room. He stops moving when he sees me and lifts his drink to his lips, never breaking eye contact with me.

  I hate this challenge.

  Roman whispers to the woman and she nods. He strolls toward the buffet and a gentleman in a white tux steps directly in front of him and places a hand on his chest.

  “White tux, physical contact. Moving in,” I announce.

  Standing directly to Roman’s right, I hear the man say. “You lucky son of a bitch. Grammy nomination again!”

  Roman smiles, and they shake hands.

  “Clear,” I say into my headpiece.

  “It’s good to see you. Make sure you try the caviar. It’s imported. I know how you like the expensive stuff.”

  “You know it!” White Tux says before strutting away.

  Roman gazes at me and I don’t know what to do. Is this part of the challenge or something else?

  “You okay?” I ask him.

  “Could be better, could be worse.”

  At the buffet, he picks up a plate.

  “At the buffet,” I announce.

  “I have a shuffler at the front of the room,” Cedric announces. “His gait is off. Black tux, white tie. Caucasian, black hair, glasses.”

  “Dead center. Principal in sight,” Logan announces.

  Roman, holding a plate of food, stops to talk to a Hispanic man dressed in leather.

  “Leather man, left of buffet,” Raul says. “I’m close.”

  I lose sight of him as he strolls with the man in leather. I don’t like it at all. My heart is pounding. I know something is going to happen. I just don’t know what.

  “All okay?” Raul asks.

  I hear Roman respond. “It’s all good.”

  “Oops, sorry.”

  “No problem.”

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” Raul says back.

  “He’s coming toward me,” Tori exclaims.

  “Making my way over,” Kari says. “I have funny walk with glasses in my sight. He’s approaching Roman.”

  “This is Logan. This could be it, people. Be sharp.”

  “Loner is on the move,” Tori says nervously. “I’ve got Roman coming in directly in front.”

  “Hey. Can I do anything?” Tori asks.

  I don’t hear a response. I do hear coughing. “I’m okay,” Roman replies.

  “You sure?” she asks. “Want me to get you some water?”

  “On my way,” Cedric announces.

  I move toward the bar as well. My eyes shift from left to right as I watch for any sudden movements. I see Roman and I breathe deeply. He’s still coughing.

  Cedric stands to his far left, close but not on top of him.

  “What’s happening?” Logan asks.

  “I’ve got glasses. He’s moving closer. I’m behind him,” Kari says.

  Roman takes another sip of his drink and tries to place it on the bar, but he misses and it crashes to the ground. He loosens his tie.

  I pick up speed, but someone steps in front of me, causing me to lose my balance. I push them aside.

  “Roman? Roman?” Tori shouts. “I need some help here!”

  I fly over to him and grab his arm spinning. He’s sweating, and his face is turning blue. “Someone call an ambulance,” I shout. Is that makeup? What should I be looking for?

  Roman falls to his knees and Tori and I go down with him. Someone grabs ahold of my shoulder and pushes me out of the way. I almost pounce on him until I see it’s Dawson.

  Roman grips his arm, his eyes pleading with him for help. Dawson pushes something forcibly into his leg. The crowd goes silent.

  “Fuck, what did we miss?” Logan says.

  “Cedric, do you see anyone making a run for it?” Kari asks.

  “I’ve got nothing.”

  I thought Dawson was supposed to stay off camera. Why is he here?

  Dawson lifts Roman into his arms and carries him out of the room. The music suddenly stops. Esto, Roman’s agent, and JP rush from behind the stage and out the forum doors and that’s when I know. This wasn’t part of the challenge. It was real. Oh my God, it was real!

  It’s been five torturous hours. It’s almost midnight. We’ve been camped in the main hall, waiting for news. At nine o’clock, Esto advised us that Roman had a severe allergic reaction and was rushed to the hospital. Dawson drove and he was unresponsive by the time they got there, his breathing shallow.

  I lean my head on Tori’s shoulder and she leans on Cedric. We are on the floor in our dress clothes and it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

  Bryce walks in through the main doors and our heads lift in response. “He’s okay. They’re trying to get him to spend the night and he’s arguing with them. I’d say that’s a good sign. Esto and JP wanted me to tell you to get some sleep. I don’t know if we’ll be filming tomorrow. Breakfast will be at 9 a.m. but that’s all we have for now.”

  There’s a collective sigh of relief. Logan holds out his hand and helps Kari stand. Raul rubs his face.

  Tori turns to Cedric as he pushes up from the ground. “I was so scared.”

  “We all were.”

  “Yeah, but I was right there. I saw the whole thing up close.”

  “I’m sure it was frightening.”

  “It really was.”

  They continue to chat as they climb the stairs. Logan and Kari aren’t far behind.

  Bryce heads off to the forum and Raul stretches. I haven’t moved.

  “Need help?” he asks, holding out a hand to me.

  “I’m good. I just want to sit here for a few minutes.”

  “Want some company?”

  I smile up to him genuinely. “Thanks, but I think I need some time to process.”

  He nods. “Goodnight, Reed.”

  “G’night.”

  I watch him climb the stairs and I lean my head up against the cold wall. Staring upward, I gaze at the various artwork on the walls. Deciding to get a closer look, I rise, still holding my heels in my hand.

  I walk over to a blue painting and admire h
is work. It’s even more beautiful now that I know he made it himself. Running my fingertips over streaks of black, I imagine Roman standing in front of a blank canvas, dipping his brush into the paint. I wonder what he was thinking when he did this one. What he might have been feeling. I touch the blue paint and picture his face on the floor of the forum. It was bad enough seeing him like that when I thought it was faked, but now that I know it was real, it hurts even worse. He was pleading with me to help him and I did nothing. He could have died right in front of me. A tear slides down my cheek and I immediately wipe it away.

  What’s wrong with me? I never cry, and yet I’ve done it twice today. Wrapping my arms around myself, I ponder the idea of sleep. After the day I’ve had, nightmares probably await me. I’d rather not sleep at all than have bad dreams.

  In the kitchen, I think about making a cup of coffee. I flip on the lights, drop my shoes on the floor and think about what I should do. Walking into the pantry, I recall the night I ran into Roman. He was so cool and cocky. I remember him telling me how sometimes he’d make himself a cup of hot chocolate to help him relax and now I want nothing more. I search the shelves, looking for hot chocolate and find none.

  I’m getting more and more frustrated and when I’m about to pull everything down and throw it across the room, a blue box catches my eye.

  Instant cocoa with marshmallows. Holding it against my chest, I open cabinets until I find the mugs. I reach for an orange one which catches my eye. I have to push a few out of the way to get to it and stand on my tippy toes. I lift it out and read it out loud. “You’re a rock star.”

  A ridiculous smile plays across my face as I heat a cup of water in the microwave, then I sit on a stool at the island and close my eyes. I wonder if he’s really okay. Bryce wouldn’t lie, would he? What if Dawson hadn’t have been there? What if I’d lost him?

  I stand and pace. The last thing I said to him was, “I wish I’d never met you.” It’s the farthest thing from the truth. Meeting him… this game… it’s been one of the best experiences of my life. I need to tell him. Even if this Natalie is his secret girlfriend, I can’t help the way I feel about him. Please let him be okay. I sit on the stool again and lower my head on my arms, staying that way for a long time.

  I’m dozing off when the front door slams and I jump. Realizing it could be him, I bolt from my seat, pick up my shoes from the floor and run down the hall.

  I make it to the bottom of the stairs in time to see Dawson coming back down.

  “Is he here?” I ask. “Is he home? Is he okay?”

  “He’s home. He’s going to be fine. He’s sore and exhausted.” Dawson lifts Roman’s tux jacket from the railing and starts back up the stairs.

  I swallow hard and try to think of what to say. “Dawson?” He stops. “Could you tell him I’m sorry? That I’m glad he’s okay, and all of us were really worried about him?”

  He nods. “Sure.”

  I climb a step as he ascends. “Could you also tell him that I’m sorry I’m nosey, and I wish I would have helped him? I was so scared when he fell to the floor.” My voice shakes and I tremble. “I don’t ever get scared, but I was tonight. Could you also tell him he’s more important than a TV show, and I know I’m difficult?”

  “That’s a lot for me to remember.”

  Nodding my head, I bite my lip. “Then just tell him I’m thinking about him.”

  Dawson stares at me for a moment and purses his lips. “Go to the closet stairwell and I’ll let you up. I’m sure he’d rather hear it from you anyway.”

  “Really?”

  “Be sneaky about it. Understand?”

  I nod my head and Dawson vanishes upstairs. When he’s out of sight, I return to the kitchen, put my cup in the sink, and turn off the lights. I walk along the hall. It seems to take forever to get to the last room on the left.

  I round the corner and the guard has opened the closet door. “Go ahead, Ms. Manning. You’re clear.”

  As much as I want to get out of these clothes, I’m too tired to move. I stare at the ceiling in my bedroom and try to figure out exactly when I knew something was wrong.

  My bedroom door creaks open and I yawn. “I know. I was going to get changed, but lying in the bed seemed like a better idea.”

  Dawson doesn’t respond. He just closes the door.

  “Does everyone know I’m all right?” I ask.

  Again nothing. I lift my head from the pillow and that’s when I see her standing by the door. I blink a few times in disbelief. She’s gripping her heels in her hand and staring at me like she’s seen a ghost.

  “Hey,” I say, leaning up on my elbows. “How did you—”

  “Dawson let me up. I don’t know why,” she whispers. “Don’t be angry with him.”

  “I’m not angry.” I stare at her for a few minutes and force myself to sit up. I’m still in my tux shirt but it’s open down to my navel and I have no idea what happened to my tie. “You can come in.”

  “I… don’t want to bother you. I just needed to see that you were really okay. You should get some rest.” Turning, she grabs a hold of the doorknob.

  “Stay. Will you?”

  Pausing with her back to me, she glances over her shoulder. “Sure.”

  My eyes widen as I stare at her. She hasn’t moved. I don’t know what she’s waiting for. “Please don’t make me get up. Come here,” I say motioning to her with my head.

  She drops her shoes at the door and cautiously approaches me. The closer she gets, the happier I am to see her. Her makeup is smudged around her eyes, but her lips are still plump and red. There’s so much I want to say.

  She sighs when she reaches me and places her hands on her hips. “What in the hell were you thinking?”

  Is she mad? I furrow my brows in confusion.

  “Why in the hell would you eat something with honey in it? And why would your staff make anything with honey it, knowing you’re allergic to it? You need to find out who was responsible and fire their ass. Better yet, give me their name and I’ll take care of it.”

  She’s furious. Placing my hand over my mouth, I try to hide my smile. It’s useless, because I laugh instead.

  “Are you laughing at me?” she asks. “This is serious. You could have died.”

  “But I didn’t. Surprise!”

  “Don’t you even!” She lightly pushes my chest. I grab hold of her hand, so it stays there.

  She gazes down into my eyes and I stare up into hers. She spreads her fingers across my skin. “I was so worried.”

  “I know.”

  “I didn’t know what was wrong.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “What if Dawson hadn’t been there?”

  “He was.”

  “I could have lost you,” she whispers, voice shaking.

  “But you didn’t.”

  “Did I ever have you?”

  “From the first second I heard your voice.” I get up from the bed to stand directly in front of her and flinch. My leg feels like it has a piece of lead in it.

  “Does it hurt?” she asks, reaching out to help me balance.

  “Only from the needle. Dawson slammed that fucker into my thigh. It’s gonna leave a mark.”

  “Sit back down,” she commands. I do as I’m told. “What can I do to help you?”

  “Nothing really. I’m just glad you’re here. I didn’t like how we left things this morning.”

  “Me either.”

  She stares at the floor and picks at a sequin on her dress.

  “You look amazing tonight.”

  “So do you.”

  I smile. “Do I?” I ask, bending my head to try to get her to look at me.

  “Ugh, you’re such a pain.”

  “But you were checking me out tonight, weren’t you?”

  I roll my eyes. “It was hard not to see you. You made your grand entrance and then strutted down the stairs like you owned the place.”

  “I do own the place.”
/>   “Uh! You know what I mean.”

  “But you thought I looked hot, didn’t you?” I ask.

  “No.”

  “Yeah you did.”

  “If you’re so sure of it, why are you asking me?”

  “Maybe I want to hear you admit it.” She stares at me blankly and I nudge her. “So?”

  “Fine. Yes. You looked hot. You always look hot.” She stands and paces the floor, clearly irritated. It makes me grin. “You had to stop right in front of me, didn’t you? So I could smell you and see your tight ass in that damn tux. I mean, it was so snug I’m surprised you could breathe. I couldn’t. Breathe… when you… were… next to me.”

  I inhale deeply, feeling the fire build inside. “I can’t breathe unless you’re next to me.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” I ask as she takes off to the bar.

  “Say things like that. You shouldn’t say those things to me.”

  She pours herself a shot and slams it back like it’s water.

  “Why not?”

  “Because of her. I’m not faulting you for it. It’s none of my business.”

  She’s talking about Natalie and it makes my skin crawl. “I swear on my life, there is nothing now nor will there ever be anything more than friendship between Natalie and me. Will you please believe me and drop this insane notion that I have a woman more important in my life than you?”

  “Me?” She laughs and hops on the bar stool. “You don’t even know me.”

  “I feel like I do.”

  She crosses her long lovely legs and I realize she’s too damn far away. “Come back over here.”

  “No.”

  “Please? I can’t walk very well.”

  She jumps down immediately and rushes over, sitting down on the bed and folding her legs under her. She looks like she belongs in my bed.

  “Esto told us you were unresponsive when they got you to the hospital. I thought I was going to lose it in front of everyone.”

  “That’s not true. Dawson wouldn’t let me stop talking. As soon as the Epi pen kicked in, he made me talk all the way there. I couldn’t rest for a second. It was almost as bad as listening to Clark.”

  “Is that your agent?”

  “He’s my manager.”