Kissed Blind (Hot Pursuit #2)(45)

“I’d like him to leave here via one of the lesser traversed streets to keep the media attention away from this. Oliver doesn’t need to be seen throwing up on the evening news, do you, darling?” She rubbed his shoulder.

He groaned. “No, I don’t.”

“Why don’t you go get the car?” She snapped her fingers. “Cici! Cici, you go with him. It’ll be one less person to manage. And Diana, you stay here with Oli until the car is close enough so he doesn’t have to walk too far. Oli, I’ll grab your things from your trailer.”

“Um, yeah, okay,” Oliver said, taking a deep breath.

Vance grabbed my arm and brought his lips to my ear. “I’m a couple of blocks away. It’ll take me five to seven minutes to get to the car. I’ll swing it around to the corner of Fourteenth and Walnut. Sir?” He looked down to Oliver. “You might need to walk about one block. You okay with that?”

Oliver nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m getting a second wind.” He forced a smile. “I’ll be fine.”

Camille leaned in. “I’m sorry, where did you say the car would be?”

Vance repeated the pick-up location.

“That’s out of the way, correct? It’ll be private?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s a quiet street. One way traffic. No one would want to hang out in that area anyway. They have the surrounding areas closed off for the movie, but you walk one block in any direction and you’ll find yourself in a bad area of town.”

“That’s perfect,” Camille added, shooing Vance and Cici with her hands. “Off you go then. He’s not well and needs to get out of here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Camille strode off to retrieve Oliver’s things from his trailer.

“All right,” Vance said. “Cici and I should be at the corner in...” He glanced down at his watch. “In about seven minutes. Be there.”

“You got it. We’ll rest here for a couple of minutes and start walking,” I answered.

Vance and Cici set off, and Cici trotted to keep up with Vance’s long strides. A few actors came by to wish Oliver well. He put on a brave face, but he was deteriorating. His chest rose and fell with each deliberate breath, as if he was trying to keep the contents of his stomach down.

I watched for Camille, but she had yet to return, and we couldn’t wait any longer. “Okay, we should get going.” I grabbed his arm and helped him from the chair. “I assume Camille can catch up to us.”

He rose from his chair and suppressed a gag. “Yes, she can.”

We began walking up the sidewalk toward Walnut Street. Oliver stumbled, and I put my arm around his waist to catch him.

“Whoa, you okay?” I asked.

“My worst hangovers have felt better than this.” He closed his eyes and grunted.

“I’ve got you. Lean on me if you need to.”

He rested more of his weight against my body, and I shifted my gait to accommodate the additional burden. He chuckled. “You’re a lot stronger than you look.”

“I have to be.”

We ambled down the sidewalk and not another soul littered the streets. Someone could have been watching from any of the windows above in the old brick buildings around us, but I hoped none of them had a camera. I got the feeling that no matter where Oliver went, all eyes were always on him.

We approached what looked like an alley. Vance had said we only needed to walk one block, but he must have forgotten it was there. Trash and dead leaves swirled in a mini tornado at the entrance as a gust of wind blew through.

Oliver coughed. “I’m going to be sick.”

I hustled him over next to the building at the entrance of the alley, and he heaved. His green juice, salad, and tea formed a large liquid patty at his feet. The man had an audience for almost every moment of his life; I wished I could have given him his privacy in this one.

I closed off my nose from the inside. If I caught even the slightest scent of his puke, I’d buckle over next to him. Blood and many other disgusting things I can handle, but vomit is where I draw a firm line in the sand.

I fished a tissue out of my pocket and handed it to him when he sounded finished. He rested his hand against the bricks and took the tissue, wiping his mouth, and then fell back against the building.

“Jesus.” He grumbled. “Kill me now.”

“We don’t have much farther to go. You think you can make it? I can have Vance break all kinds of traffic laws to pick you up right here. He won’t mind.”

“No. I can do it.”

He righted himself and attempted to square his sagging shoulders. His eyes were red, droopy, and filled with water. He looked at me, and his eyes darted behind me. They bulged and a barely audible gasp escaped his parted lips. That fraction of a second was my only warning, and one I would replay in my mind over and over. The pain was what I would remember next.





Sixteen





I was jostled, disoriented. My head hurt. I tried to open my eyes, but they wouldn’t budge. I was surrounded by the warmth of leather and a hint of cedar.

“Open the door!” Vance shouted.

Heels hurriedly clacked against pavement.

“Where’s Oliver?”

Who’s that? That voice, I know that voice. Where the hell am I? What’s going on?