Triple-Duty Bodyguards: Chapter 43

For a few seconds, everything is complete chaos.

Fans scream behind the barriers, some ducking down, others staggering backwards. I hear shrieks as people get trampled. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my costars dropping to their knees, choking. Most of the videographers stay standing, panning their cameras over the panic.

A thick, foul-smelling smoke is spreading through the square, grey and heavy. It tickles my throat, and I cough as it fills my mouth and lungs. I can’t breathe. Panic stabs me, and a terrified whimper falls out of my mouth as I claw at the asphalt under my hands.

I feel Matt touching my face, and I realise he’s talking into his radio. “I’ve got her.” He strokes my cheek. “Shh. Shh. Shallow breaths, princess. You’re okay. Try not to panic, I’ve got you.”

I squint through the smoke, but it’s just getting thicker, and I can barely see a metre in front of me. “Where’s Kenta and Glen?” I squeak, but I don’t think he hears me over the screaming.

His radio hisses. “Suspect spotted,” a female voice says, then sputters off into choking. “Qu-quadrant f-five, by the entrance.”

Matt swears. “Stay down,” he says in my ear, then pulls himself off me.

“No!” I shout, reaching for him. My fingers brush the hem of his jacket.

Another explosion rocks through the crowd.

This one feels even worse than the first. There’s an awful tearing sound, and then a crash. I look up and realise the rigging that’s been holding up the giant movie posters has fallen, smashing heavy iron bars into the crowd.

“Matt!” I scream, but there’s no response. He’s gone. He’s gone.

Suddenly, a hand grabs me around the throat, yanking me backwards and upright. I’m pulled into a man’s chest.

“NO!” I shout, jabbing my elbow hard into his stomach. There’s a low grunt, but no other reaction. He starts to tug me away from the carpet, through the chaos. Struggling, I manage to wriggle a hand free, fumbling at my clutch and yanking out the tube of pepper spray. Fiddling with the cap, I twist and spray it where I’m guessing X’s face is. “GET OFF ME!”

The guy swears, letting me go, and I stagger away.

The smoke is so thick I can’t see anything. It’s completely opaque. I don’t even know what direction I’m going. There’s another explosion, this one further away, and I double over as I run, hacking coughs wracking my body. I slam into someone. They reach out to grab at me, but I just shake them off, plunging forward. Out. I need to get out. I kick off my heels as I run, but barely make it three more steps before I trip, falling face-first onto something warm and soft. I feel silky hair under my fingers and pull away like I’ve been burned.

A body. Oh my God.

“BRIAR!” I hear someone bellow through the smoke, and warmth erupts in my chest as I recognise Glen’s throaty Scottish accent. I scrabble to stand upright, turning towards the voice—

Something slams onto my mouth and nose. A damp cloth. A sour, chemical smell fills my nostrils, and I cough, trying to shove it away. The hand on my face just clamps the cloth down harder, forcing me to breathe in. A thick arm snakes around my waist, holding me in place. Tears fill my eyes as I feel my head start to get fuzzy.

God. I’m being chloroformed. How cliché is that? It’s embarrassing. The man starts to drag me away, and I kick aimlessly at him, trying to trip him up. When that doesn’t work, I turn my head, trying to bite his hand, but I just get a mouthful of the damp cloth.

A flurry of gunshots suddenly crack through the smoke. I scream as I feel a bullet whiz over my head.

“Don’t shoot!” I hear Kenta shout from far away, and some of the tension around my chest loosens. He’s okay. He didn’t get hurt. “You’ll hit her!”

I open my mouth to shout to him, to scream, but I can’t make my voice work. Nausea rolls up in my chest, and I feel my legs bending under me. I blink hard as the shapes in the smoke start to swirl and distort. The hand on my waist tightens.

“There we are. You’re okay, angel,” a voice coos in my ear. “Just relax. I’ve got something to show you.”

“I’ll gouge out your balls and stuff them down your throat until you choke, you ugly little piece of shit!” I spit out. Or at least, I try to spit out. My mouth feels numb, and the words aren’t coming. Instead, I just moan. My vision is going in and out. My heart is pounding painfully. This is it. I’m going to die.

Lips brush against my ear. “Aw, it’s okay. I know you’re scared, but we’ll get you out of here. Come on, I’ve got you.”

I moan again and try to push away, but my arms just twitch. My eyes widen. I can’t move. I’m completely paralysed. X swings me up into his arms and starts to carry me away. The smoke is shifting and dissipating, and for a second, I see Kenta. He’s holding his gun and scanning the crowd, his face frantic.

As I watch him, our eyes lock. His mouth drops open in horror as he sees me getting carried away.

“BRIAR!” He shouts, running forward. I try to scream for him, but the world finally blinks out into nothing.