Page 93 of The Road Less Traveled By

“Never,” I say as I open the door for her. “Your friends want to say goodbye, so we’ll stop for them and then we’ll leave,okay?”

“Okay. That sounds good.”

I push the door open, feeling Bree follow behind me like always. I shift my gaze around the event and notice that a decent number of people have left, and I speak into my earpiece.

“We’ll be out soon. Is the path clear?”

“It’s settled as best as we can. There’s a lot of fucking people out here, boss,” Chris tells me, and I sigh heavily. This is going to be a shitshow, and my only hope is that I can get Bree out of here safely. Alex really fucked things up. I’m sure half the cameras out there are because of his surprise appearance.

A few minutes and lots of hugs later, I softly touch Bree’s arm. “Time to go, Bree. It’s getting crazy out there.”

“Okay,” she says as she turns to her friends. “I’ll see you guys. We should have dinner at my place soon.”

“That sounds good, Bree,” Tristan tells her before he looks at me. “Take care of our girl, Vince.”

“That's all I wanna do, Tristan.”

“I know, man,” he says as he throws his hand out for me to take.

“Bree,” I say, reminding her that we have to go.

“Sorry. Okay, I love you all. Thank you for coming. Vince has guards for each of you when you leave. I’ll text you all when I’m home!” Bree follows me to the door, and before we leave, I let her collect herself.

“It’s going to be rowdier than normal. Chris tried his best, but it might be a tight squeeze.”

“I’ll be okay, Vince. As long as you’re in front of me, I’ll feel okay.”

“Good. I’m going to open the door,” I tell her, and when I open it, flashes of lights are all I see. It's a fucking zoo out here, and I can barely see two feet in front of me. “Everyone back the fuck up!”

I feel Bree grab onto my suit jacket as I push forward. I can’t see any members of my team, and that thought makes me want to turn aroundand get the hell back inside, but either way, I’m fucked. As long as we can make it to the car, we should be fine, but even that is proving difficult.

“Back the fuck up! You’ll get your fucking pictures, just move!” I yell, and a few photographers listen, but not enough.

I take a few more steps forward, but something hitting me in the face makes me pause, and the next thing I know, all I see is darkness.

It’s a fucking madhouseout here, and I’m holding onto Vince like he’s my only lifeline in a storm, which he kind of is. He keeps yelling at them to back up, but nobody is listening. They never listen, and all I want is to be safe in my car.

Why do they only care about pictures? Can't they tell that this is unsafe? I can barely see ahead of me as the flashes go off. I’m so tired of feeling like some sort of zoo animal. It feels like I’m trapped in this glass box, and nothing I can do or say will help me get out of it.

The only time I feel free is with Vince, and all these stolen moments we’ve had together have let me breathe a bit easier in the past few weeks.

When I feel his jacket slip from under my touch, I start to panic.

What’s going on? I wonder, and a few seconds later, Vince falls to the ground, his face way too pale and his skin hot to the touch.

“Vince? Vince! Vince, what—” I search his features for any sign he can hear me, but his eyes are closed, and I have no idea what all this white stuff is on his face. Where the fuck did this come from?

I grab his earpiece and start to scream into it. “Nico! Chris! Emerson! Anyone, please help. Vince is down. I repeat, Vince is down in front of the building.”

I don't bother to hear any responses, and a few seconds later, Nico and Chris show up.

“What happened, princess?” Nico asks me as he finds Vince’s pulse. “His heartbeat is slowing down.”

“Everyone back up! Back the fuck up!” Chris shouts, and theyfinallylisten.

“I-I don't know what happened. He just went down, and he has all this stuff on his face. Why does he look like that, Nico? What the fuck happened?”

“We’ll find out. I’m calling 911,” he tells me as he pulls his phone out.

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