As Dust Dances (Play On 2)

“Don’t,” he bit out, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. “Don’t you fucking dare take this out on me. I’m trying to help you after you had Brandon and Micah come to the bloody flat and blow your cover.”

“My cover?” I laughed humorlessly. “Like I’m some spy? I’m not a spy, Killian. I’m a soon-to-be disgraced ex-pop-rock star. They’re never going to forgive me. No one is going to buy this album. You get that, right? When they find out that I’m safe and alive and I haven’t let my fans know I’m safe and alive, they’re going to annihilate me. It might have been okay if we got there first. Spun it the way we planned to. But not now.”

Killian contemplated and then said calmly, “Last night you sang a song you wrote for me and we said we loved each other. And I do. I love you, Skylar. I will do whatever it takes to protect you. But do you really love me?”

Feeling winded by his need to even ask, I whispered, “You know I do.”

“Then stick with me.” He stepped toward me, his dark eyes pleading. “Hold it together and stick with me. Stop panicking. Take a breath. And know that I’m beside you. We will fix this. Believe me.”

His soothing tone worked and I released a shaky sigh. I nodded. “Sorry. I . . . I’m out of practice handling these assholes.”

He took hold of my hand and I stumbled into him. His kiss was soft and reassuring. He held my face in his palms. “Let’s get this over with.”

I nodded, feeling like if I could keep it together like he wanted, then maybe I really could do this.

However, nothing quite prepares you for the barrage of the paparazzi. It was not the first time I’d walked into a crowd of them, but I’d forgotten.

I’d forgotten how it was to be jostled as security tried to shove paps back, to hear camera lenses whirring in my ears, feel them knock against my shoulder, my chin, feel hands that snuck past security to grab and pull on me. All the while the cacophony of shouting and blinding flash from digital cameras discombobulated me. It was how I imagined a deer might feel, surrounded by a pack of wolves.

Hunted.

Trapped.

That’s probably why it elicited fear. Even with the rational part of my brain telling me they were only paparazzi and Rick and Angus would protect me, adrenaline flooded me.

“Skylar, where have you been?”

“Are you joining Tellurian again?”

“Do you have anything to say to the fans?”

“Skylar, are you and Micah back together?”

“Skylar!”

“Skylar!”

SKYLAR!

I gripped hold of Rick’s jacket as panic tightened my chest. Most of the accents shouting at me weren’t even British. How the hell had the US press gotten here so fast?

Feeling my grip, Rick grew more aggressive in his efforts to forge a path for me to the car. Within seconds I was sliding into the back of an SUV with Autumn hurrying to slide in beside me. Rick slammed the door shut as soon as she was safely inside and Autumn hit the lock. Angus got in the driver’s seat.

As soon as Rick moved out of the way of the door to get into the front passenger seat, the paps pulled at the door handle to get in.

“Jesus Christ,” Autumn instinctively leaned toward me.

A pounding on the window at my head made me flinch into her. She grabbed my hands at the sight of the pap snapping photos of me through my window.

The SUV pulled away slowly, picking up speed as soon as we were on the road.

“You okay, ladies?” Rick glanced into the back to ask.

I nodded, feeling numb.

“I’m not.” Autumn squeezed my hands, worry etched on her face. “Skylar, how do you cope?”

Well, there was the rub because as of yet, I hadn’t found a coping mechanism for this that worked.

THE OFFICES OF SKYSCRAPER RECORDS felt marginally safer. Rick and Angus were hanging out downstairs with the full-time security guard. Autumn had gotten me a tea while Eve hovered over me worriedly. I’d understand why when I escaped to the restroom and saw my face in the mirror.

I looked pale and shell-shocked.

Lois, Jaclyn, and Kit sat quietly with me, Autumn, and Eve in a private office as we waited for Killian to arrive. I’d been offered something to eat and only took a banana to appease Autumn’s concern when I said I wasn’t hungry.

Killian blew into the room like he’d been running and headed toward me with a fierce countenance that widened my eyes. He came to an abrupt halt and I knew he’d realized that he couldn’t come to me like he wanted to. We were in a room filled with people who weren’t supposed to know we were together.

Frustration clouded his face before he cleared his throat and yanked out a chair on the other side of the table. “You got here okay?”

“Yes.”

“It was scary, Killian,” Autumn put in, still shaken. “They grabbed and pushed her and tried to get in the bloody car. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

His expression flattened and grew cold, and I knew that meant he was having to work very hard at hiding his fury. “Well, you’re safe while you’re here.” He looked at Lois. “Let’s talk about damage control.”

“Yes.” She nodded, grim. She clicked on the space bar on her laptop and the action lit up a white projector screen on the far wall. The Instagram post that kicked off this morning’s chaos appeared. It was the size of the entire wall so I could clearly see the photo of Micah and I kissing. Well, that’s what it looked like from this angle.

Fuck me sideways.

Autumn hadn’t mentioned that in her call. She winced at my expression.

I turned tentatively to look at Killian but his jaw was working as he tried to hold onto whatever emotion he was feeling. I was guessing it was anger. A lot of anger.

“It’s not what you think,” I said. “It’s the angle it was taken at. I reached in to kiss him on the cheek and he turned so I caught the corner of his mouth. This makes way more out of it.”

“It doesn’t matter what the truth is,” Lois replied. “Skylar, all that matters is that the public knows you’re alive and well, and kissing your ex-bandmate.” She clicked her laptop again and the next photo on the post appeared. It was me and Brandon hugging. Another click, another photo. All three of us smiling at each other on the sidewalk outside the apartment building. The last photo was zoomed in on my face as I looked at the car across the street. Jesus Christ, I had seen someone ducking down in the car.

Little fuckers.

My nails bit into my palm from clenching my fists so hard.

“This is exactly what we didn’t want, I’m afraid,” Lois sighed, like I’d really put her out.

Screw you, Lois.

She clicked another button and a news article came up.

SKYLAR FINCH RETURNS FROM THE GREAT UNKNOWN

Then the publicist clicked another.

FINCH IS BACK AND ALREADY LIP-LOCKING WITH MURPHY!

And another.

SKYLAR FINCH FANS DEMAND ANSWERS

Feeling light-headed, I braced myself as I asked, “What are they talking about?”

Lois looked sorry for me. “The news broke here last night, which meant it reached the States yesterday afternoon.”

“Hence the American paparazzi outside my door. They do move fast,” I murmured.

“Right. Well, fans have responded on the band’s social media pages and on your long-neglected personal pages. There is positive commentary but the negative commentary is there, and there’s a lot of it. Controversy does of course divide the crowd.”

“What are they saying?” Eve asked.

I felt like slamming my hands over my ears yet somehow managed to refrain.

“There’s no need to get into the nitty-gritty,” Lois said, to my relief. “What this means is that we have a challenge ahead of us. But it can be managed. I think the only way to quieten the deluge of press is to do an exclusive interview where Skylar has a chance to apologize and explain to her fans. The public in general has a short memory. We need to remind them that Skylar’s mother was murdered and she had a valid reason for needing a break. I think we could definitely get Good Morning Britain.”