Ransom(82)

The sounds of the concert and the officer’s voice fade as a heavy buzzing fills my ears. I’m vaguely aware of Levi’s hand steadying me and of Daltrey looking at me sadly. The words repeat over and over in my head. The assault and battery of Justin D’Angelo. The assault and battery…

Then the officers are leading Daltrey away, and I’m left alone in the darkness with only Levi to keep me from falling.

***



After the concert, Levi arranges for a cab and takes me straight back to the hotel. “The girls can handle the merch table,” he tells me firmly.

He has an arm around me as he leads me through the back hallway. I see Mr. Ransome frantically conversing with Dan, the tour manager, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. The rest of the crew is standing around dazed, no one knowing what they’re supposed to do.

“What about you?” I ask. “What about your job?”

“Someone else can do it,” he says shortly. “I’m getting you out of here.”

I feel numb as the cab winds through heavy traffic. “Did you know? Where he went?”

Levi sighs. “I had a feeling.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I hoped I was wrong.”

“So… what? He flew home, kicked Justin’s ass, and flew back?”

“It would seem so.” He pauses. “You have to give him credit; he’s a multitasker.”

“Not funny, Levi.”

He grimaces. “I know. Sorry.” He’s quiet for a minute. “What the fuck is wrong with him? I understand the wanting-to-protect-you thing, believe me, but how could he be so stupid? Like the thing you need is for him to get put in fucking jail.”

I shake my head. “This is all my fault.”

“See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. This is not what you need.”

I stare out the window. I can’t believe Daltrey did this. After everything that happened last night, everything I told him, the way we comforted each other. The way we made love… I thought it was finally the beginning of something new for me—freedom from the past months and all the pain they had contained. I woke up this morning—God, was it just this morning?—feeling happy and peaceful for the first time in ages. Hopeful, even. And now…

“So I take it you told him everything,” Levi says.

I nod, not turning to him.

He sighs. “When?”

“Last night. I thought he… I thought he was okay with everything. When we went to sleep—”

I hear his sharp intake of breath and blush. “Sorry, I guess that was TMI. I just… I thought we were happy. I woke up feeling good today, you know? And he woke up and went to beat the hell out of someone.”

“Like I said, stupid,” he mutters.

We approach the hotel, and I cringe at the sight of the normal crowd. Is it my imagination, or is it bigger than usual? There definitely seem to be more reporters. My heart starts to pound. Has the news about the arrest already gotten out? We have no one from security with us. None of these people will have any idea who we are, but I wish I would have thought to ask to be taken through the garage instead.

“Can you stop here?” Levi asks the driver, pulling out his wallet.

The driver pulls over and takes the money. Levi hops out of the cab then comes around and opens my door. When I climb out, he puts his hand lightly on my back.

“Just walk fast,” he says. “Without the guys here, they shouldn’t pay any attention to us.”

I nod, leaning into him more than I normally would, wanting to hide. We head toward the front doors.

“Hey, it’s her!”

My head snaps up. They aren’t talking about me. They can’t be—

“Daisy! Daisy Harris! What do you think about Daltrey’s arrest?”

Suddenly the photographers and reporters are converging on us, surrounding us completely. I can’t even make out the door in front of us through the crowd.

Levi gasps. “What the hell?” Then, his voice is blocked by the yells from the paparazzi.

“How do you feel, Daisy, knowing he did this for you?”

“Did you ask Daltrey to attack Mr. D’Angelo?”

“Is the tour off?”

“Do you feel like justice has been served?”

“Is it true you spent time in a mental institution? Does Daltrey know about it?”

“Do you love Daltrey Ransome?”

I know we need to get out of here, know I have to fight my way through these people, but I’m frozen in place, terrified, as they hurl their questions at me. One thought manages to work its way into my shocked and overloaded brain: They know everything.

“No comment,” Levi yells. “Get out of our way. No comment.” With his arm wrapped around me, he tries to force his way through the crowd.