Page 170 of Between Never and Forever
“Get in the house!” I shout, hoping like hell Sharon and Brynn can hear me. That they can get there faster than this asshole can pull out his gun. “Get in the fucking house!”
Terry grunts as he struggles with me, and I hear the car doors shut just as I kick his legs out from under him. Even plastered to the ground, he doesn’t stop trying to get to Sharon. He’s possessed. He’s fucking psychotic, and the only thing I’ve got going for me is that he’s smaller than me. Has he always been this fucking small?
“Get over here, you bitch!”
He tries to knee me in the gut. I hear clicks around me. People closing in. The fucking paparazzi.
“He’s got a gun,” I shout at them. Fighting with Terry. Worrying about these assholes. They’re going to be the reason someone gets killed. “Back up. Call the cops. He’s got a fucking gun.”
“I’m going to kill her! I’m going to kill you!”
“Shut the fuck up,” I grind out, then let go of him with one hand so I can punch him in the side.
He grunts but doesn’t stop shouting. Doesn’t stop moving. I try to keep track of his hands. As long as I can keep his hands visible, we’re good. Sharon and Brynn are safe inside.
But I feel like I’ve been on this ground forever. I’m sweating. I’m panting. I’m trying so hard not to freak out that I’m starting to freak out.
“Someone call the fucking cops!”
I shout at the idiots surrounding me, just as I hear the siren of a cop car. Then car doors. Shouting and running.
I hear someone shout at the paparazzi, telling them if they don’t disperse off my private property, they’ll be arrested. I don’t pay attention to if they actually comply. I wait for a cop to take control of the asshole with the gun, but they don’t get to me in time.
I must have let up, must have diverted my focus, because Terry manages to twist and catches my jaw with an elbow. The gun goes off, everyone screams, and then Terry takes off running.
I push to my feet and start to run after him, but a cop throws his body in front of me, pushing at my chest.
“Stop. They’ll get him. You stay here.”
I look at the officer in front of me. Max. I’ve known him since I moved here. He’s watched Brynn grow up. His wife stocked our freezer when Julianna’s cancer got worse and we were spending a lot of time in the hospital. They came to her funeral.
“Are you hit?”
I look down at my uninjured body, then glance around at the ground. No gun.
“No.” I nod in the direction he ran. “He’s still armed.”
Another patrol car pulls up. More yelling at the paparazzi. They’ve at least moved across the street now. I watch as two officers discuss something off to the side of my yard.
“Levi. Who the hell was that?”
I look back at Max. His question shocks me for a minute, and then I remember that Terry wasn’t an infamous figure in this town. His arrest was fairly widely known, but it didn’t generate nearly as much attention here as it did in the town where I grew up.
I consider my options. I scan Max’s face and find nothing but concern.
“That, apparently, is Brynn’s biological father. Terry Martin.” I take a deep breath and look down the street where the cop car and Terry have disappeared. I can still hear the sirens. “And I’m going to need to get a restraining order. Probably a few of them.”
38
I presscall for the fifth time in five minutes.
It goes straight to voicemail.
I’m about ready to lose my shit. I close out and dial again as I buckle the seatbelt across my lap. I haven’t flown commercial in years. I’ve used the label’s jet for tours, and the studio chartered a private jet for us to get to Portofino. It was last minute, but I was able to charter my own out of Milan to get to Raleigh.
I had already planned to fly back for Brynn’s birthday, anyway. A few days early isn’t doing any damage for the film.
I dial again. Voicemail.
