"I'm with them!" she insisted, pointing vaguely in the direction Carter, Connor and Lana had gone. "They're probably still there, waiting for me. Can you please check?"
"We had security move them along," the guard replied. "Sorry, miss. We can't allow you back there."
"I drove here with them!" she said angrily.
"I didn't see you before," he said skeptically.
"I'm here with Heath Riley," she said, hating having to resort to using his name. "He's fighting in the tournament."
"Yeah, I know who Riley is," the guard said, rolling his eyes. "Half these groupies out here are for him. I never heard nothin' about him havin' a guest."
"I am," Drew pleaded. "I came with his brother and his brother's wife. And his father. And his manager! Just let me through, please."
"How you know him?" the guard said, folding his arms and looking at her in disbelief. "You can't be no girlfriend. I never got your name."
"Just ask Carter," Drew said, growing more agitated as the swell of jeering voices behind her rose. "He was supposed to put me on some list or something!"
"Well, Steele is long gone now," the guard said. "We took Connor Riley and his wife that way. Steele went the other way." He gestured into the arena over his shoulder.
Drew clapped a hand to her forehead, trying to calm herself before she exploded. How the hell had things gone to shit in the matter of seconds? Someone had to have seen her get out of the limo; why was no one speaking up?
Suddenly, she lost her footing and almost fell over when a foot sharply kicked her heel out from under her. She tottered violently until the guard grabbed her arm.
"Get your ass back there where you belong, you dumb bitch!" one of the women shouted at her.
Drew lurched forward as she was suddenly pelted with an extremely hard object; a frozen water bottle was hurled violently into her back at short range before crashing to the cement. She was shocked at both the gesture and the immediate pain it caused against her tender flesh; she felt like she'd just been hit with a baseball. She whirled around to see who had thrown it, intent on slapping them to the ground, when the guard grabbed her arm and pulled her away.
"Hey, knock that shit off!" the guard bellowed at the women. "Try that shit again I'll have your loose asses locked up! Then ain't none of y'all gettin' none tonight!"
Drew's chest was heaving with rage when the guard turned back to her. "Listen, I don't believe your story for one second, but are you all right?"
"Just call Steele!" Drew shouted, jerking her arm free. "Call Heath. I'm telling you, I'm with them! This is bullshit!"
"I've got Steele on his cell now," another security guard with an earpiece said with a sigh. "Hold on." He listened for a moment. "He's coming down now with Riley."
Relief washed through her, but it was short-lived as the women nearby just screamed at her more. She felt shaky and angry; she couldn't believe she was dealing with this. If this was any indication as to how the rest of the tournament was going to be, it wasn't off to a good start.
"I don't know who this hoe thinks she is," one of the women called. "Bringing her ass to the front of the line like she's running shit."
"She ain't shit," another woman said with a laugh.
"Bring your ass back over here, honey," a third voice called out. "I got somethin' way worse than a bottle of water for you."
"Shut the fuck up!" the security guard bellowed at them. "Every last one o' you. You're fuckin' lucky I can't call the cops over here to arrest your asses. Someone say something else. I will mace all of you, right now, just for fucking pissing me off!"
"Drew!"
She heard his voice and turned quickly. Heath stood just behind the barricade, dressed in his tournament shorts and a hastily thrown on ribbed tank top. He looked furious. She hurried toward him, ignoring the rise in noise as both the groupies and the reporters immediately started shouting to him, demanding to know who Drew was and if she was his girlfriend. Every sound was threatening to crack her nerves but she focused on his angry face and rushed toward him.
"Riley, this you?" a guard demanded, catching her by the shoulder just before she reached him and pressing her back.
"Yeah. Now get your fuckin' hand off her," he snarled, reaching out to take her by the elbow.
The guard quickly complied, lifting his hand immediately. Before Drew could figure out how to navigate the hip-high barricade in her tight jeans and heels, she suddenly felt her breath whoosh out of her lungs in surprise and vertigo assaulted her as Heath grabbed her around the waist and bodily picked her up, swinging her over the barricade like she weighed nothing more than a child. Her feet had hardly touched the ground before he immediately swept her away down a long concrete corridor.