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“Rane, this way!”
Sandy froze.
For all that she was used to dealing with assholes and seeing patterns in the drama of life, she had never been confronted with a storm of paparazzi before. And that’s exactly what this was. A group of people, all of them converging like a stampede, combots filling the air so thick it was hard to see past them. Everyone was yelling. There was one big bright light on all of them, a spotlight from a single combot overhead, and multiple others that were all flashing.
It was bedlam. Overwhelming. The light blinding. The noise deafening. Too much.
Sandy’s immediate reaction was to freeze. To not respond. Not reply. But it did nothing for her here because they were still there. Crowding around, launching questions that she had no chance to answer that were becoming increasingly unhinged.
It was a wall of people. She was frozen in place, unsure what to do.
Rane, however, acted immediately.
His arm went around her shoulder, pulling her into his chest, clutching her close as he held out his other arm, pushing his way through the crowd. They pulled back, but only just before he touched them. Like they were barely skirting the law of legality to get as close as they could. But their questions and the pictures didn’t stop.
Sandy grasped onto Rane, trying to stay in step with him. But his steps were much wider than hers and she was having trouble keeping up.
The first time she stumbled, he adjusted his grip. Putting his arm around her waist instead and lifting her up against his chest so that her feet barely brushed the ground. Taking control of her as he forced his way out of the stadium.
The paparazzi followed. The swarm never abating even slightly, giving them no reprieve. It only got worse as random people – fans and onlookers – crowded them as well. Trying to get a look at what was going on.
“Were you doing drugs in the closet?”
“Were you having sex in the closet?”
“Is it true that humans enjoy being abused sexually?”
“Does your mate make you choke her for her gratification?”
Sandy’s eyes widened, but she just gaped, unable to think of a rebuttal to the flurry of disgusting questions flying at them.
Rane marched her out of the stadium. The hover they ordered was in a line with others that were also picking up their passengers.
The hovercar’s door opened automatically as they approached, responding to the combat signal that had summoned it.
Rane pushed her inside and she was quick to scramble out of the way so he could climb in as well. The paparazzi remained there even after the door shut. Still taking pictures. Still shouting off the wall questions.
Sandy’s heart was pounding, she was panting like she had just run a marathon, as the hover car finally began to rise. Only then did the paparazzi step back, not wanting to get injured. But she could still see the flashing lights until they left them behind.
“What was that?” She finally managed to gasp. It was the only thing she could think to say. She knew what had happened, of course, but couldn’t figure out why or how. Was that what Rane had been going through every time he was dragged in front of them? It looked and felt so much different on this side of the camera. Worse. So much worse.
He took her hand. “Are you okay?”
She looked at him, still stunned stupid. She threw himself into his arms. Shaking.
She knew he had been going through something terrible, but she hadn’t realized just how invasive it really was. Just how harrowing. She wanted to run. She wanted to hide. They weren’t even there anymore but she still felt their eyes on her.
“It’s okay,” Rane murmured, petting her hair. The same way she had just been comforting him. “You’re safe now. It’s okay.”
But no. She couldn’t be.
Because Elffa was fighting back.
Chapter 26
Rane
It was such a normal thing now for Rane to be hauled through the trial of videos and photos and paparazzi doing their absolute best to get the most sensational reaction. It honestly didn’t even seem that bad. Really, this time, compared to some others, was tame. He wasn’t even intoxicated, and if the best they could accuse him of was being intimate with his mate in a public place, even if not directly in the public eye, he was doing pretty well.
