Dirty Laundry (Get Dirty 2)

Carsen’s privacy is a fucking impossibility now, though, because as we’re leaving the studio garage, the driver and bodyguard are talking up front in code. But I know what they’re saying.

There are paparazzi right outside the garage waiting for us. How the hell did they get over here so damn fast? After the interview, we whisked through the back halls and were out in minutes.

But they’re already here like vultures, waiting to snap and pick at the remains of our privacy even after I’ve literally given them everything I have and more than I ever wanted to.

“Just get us home safely,” I call up front, leaning back into the leather seats. “I can’t do any more publicity today.”

“Of course, sir. Make sure everyone’s buckled up back there . . . sometimes, I have to punch it.”

Carsen seems to be handling it well so far, still smiling, and it brightens my mood just a little.

As we drive out of the garage, the paparazzi swarm the SUV with their cameras and phones and faces pressed up against the glass. They’re knocking and slapping at the windows, their yells a jumble of noise I can’t understand except for my name over and over. Carsen cringes, the fun of being a ‘celebrity’ temporarily snuffed out, and she gets her first scary lesson in the price of her new identity.

Donnie, if I do see you again, I’d love to shove my fist so far up your ass people would think you’re a puppet. Damn you for doing this to my little girl, I think in anger toward Donnie, even as a wave of guilt washes over me at the part I might’ve played in this mess too.

I realize the driver is barely rolling and look out the front window, seeing a group of daredevil cameramen standing in front of the vehicle, their lenses zooming through the untinted front windshield to try and get a shot of us in the back.

“Mother truckers,” I growl, censoring myself at the last second. I’d say run them over but that’s probably not a good idea. “Should we just keep rolling or do we need to stop?”

The driver and guard don’t even respond to me. They’re too busy doing their thing. It makes me glad that they’re here and that they’re well-trained for these situations.

Deciding I’d be better served by not distracting them, I turn my attention to my family sitting around me. Carsen and Elise both look horrified while Sarah just looks disgusted, but all of their heads are whipping back and forth, taking in the swarm still calling out and banging on the vehicle. Hearing a particularly hard slap behind me, I whirl around to see several reporters behind us too. We’re completely surrounded on all four sides, barely inching forward as the horde moves step by step with us.

“Oh my God, Keith! I had no idea. I’m so sorry . . . is it always like this?” Elise asks, her voice small, but there’s an undercurrent of anger. That’s my girl.

I can feel Carsen’s eyes on me, wide with fear, and I try to reassure them. “No, it’s not usually like this at all. Maybe at some kind of awards show, where there’s lots of media coverage and cameras flashing, but even then, it’s nothing like this. Especially not in my daily life. No one usually follows me around, desperate to get pics. Still, might be a good idea to lie low for a bit until this whole thing dies down. Guess it’s a good thing the house is stocked with everything we need for a few days.”

Elise finally tears her eyes away from the chaos surrounding us and looks at me. “Right. I guess that Plan W-T-F is going into play?” she deadpans, but there’s still a touch of fear even as she tries to joke.

A small smile plays at the corners of my mouth, even though we’re still in a rather precarious situation. I reach over and hold Carsen’s hand, giving it a little squeeze.

“It’ll be fine, honey. I promise.”

After a few more minutes of tension-filled progress, we make our way into the street and the driver is able to find a hole in the human shield surrounding us, speeding up and getting us out of the area by punching it through a yellow light. Once we hit the highway, we all breathe a sigh of relief, the pressure ratcheting down as we put miles between us and the studio.

There are several idiots gathered around the house as we approach, but they’re outside the gate and they move out of the way as we go on through. As bad as it was, I know it could’ve been much worse, but thankfully, we’re home safe and sound now.

Heading inside, I see Elise and Sarah already getting out the coffee for us and hot chocolate for Carsen. Carsen is pulling off her ‘fancy’ clothes as soon as she steps inside, eager to get comfortable.