Page 87 of Enemies Off Camera
But that look on her face? She’s more than startled to see me—she’s not thrilled I’m here now.
SIXTY-TWO
Ashley and I both glance at the open elevator like it’s a race to see who’ll reach Jaxon’s floor first. Cameras are still clicking. Flashes still popping.
“Go ahead, sign the autograph. I’ll keep the elevator open,” Genesis says, moving to hold the doors.
Ashley checks over her shoulder like she’s considering an escape—then straightens her posture and saunters past me into the elevator. She seems confident. Too confident.
Is it possible she and Jaxon have worked something out?
Oh my God… that stunt I pulled with Blaine.
Had Jaxon seen it?
Am I too late?
“I’m Caroline,” the woman says, tugging my attention back.
I quickly scribble:Thanks for your support. I truly appreciate it.Then I sign my name.
“I hope they bring you back,” Caroline says.
“I’m tired of waiting. Can we please go up and send it back down to her?” Ashley calls from inside the elevator. Her syrupy tone has thinned out—less sweet, more sour. That fake charm? It fooled me once. Not anymore.
Just then, the elevator next to hers opens—and lo and behold, Jaxon’s inside. On crutches. And he’s not alone.
“Sure! Go on up!” I say quickly, nodding like mad.
For a split second, Genesis is frozen, but I think she follows Caroline’s line of sight. She slips into the elevator and slams theupbutton just in time to close the doors. Ashley probably caught on at the last second—but it was too late.
Roger spots me before Jaxon does. He looks like he’s chewing lemons. His whole body jolts, like he wants to stop what’s about to happen?—
But then Jaxon and I lock eyes.
SIXTY-THREE
JAXON WILDE
Everything shifts the second I see her.
The pain in my leg, the fractured fibula, the weeks of recovery ahead—they all fade, if only a little. She's here. And that’s what matters.
“No.” Roger’s hand presses against my chest to stop me from moving. “We’re going back up.”
I push past him. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
While I lay in the hospital bed earlier, waiting for confirmation on the injury, I had time to think. To retrace how I went from the peace of being with Zara before we left for Florida to feeling like I was unraveling on the field. Everything had changed too quickly. Too quietly. And now I know why.
Ashley showing up at both games. Sitting in prime seats—the kind that cost tens of thousands… or are arranged by someone with power. That didn’t happen by accident.
Then Roger walked into my room, pretending to be surprised that Ashley was around. He showed me the tabloid photos of Zara and Toby. Said maybe I should lean into the story, let people think I was moving on too. He had comments printed out—actual fan commentary, like their opinions were enough to steer my life. According to him, Zara and I were a sinking ship, and Ashley was the obvious next chapter.
That’s when I knew for certain that it was all planned. All of it orchestrated by him.
I kept my jaw clenched, trying to keep my temper in check. “I want my phone,” I told him.
He didn’t deny anything. Just reached into his pocket and handed it to me like we were swapping business cards. The battery was drained—completely dead.
