Lola

 

The decoy car might have fooled the throng at the hotel, but that had still left them with the masses at the airport. Just like they knew everything else, her fans knew she was trying to escape their precious town. They had crushed in on her at the door, and even Butch’s strong arm wasn’t enough of a barrier to keep them back.

 

“I thought you talked to security here,” Lola said as she ducked around a group of screaming teenagers.

 

“I did.” Butch’s voice was barely audible above the crowd. “Apparently, they’re not too concerned with keeping the peace.”

 

The hordes of people were suffocating, but at least they were giving them just enough leeway that they could still advance slowly toward the security gates. Maybe once they made it to the checkpoint, the guards would be forced to take action. One thing was for sure: Lola was never getting on a commercial plane again.

 

“Just keep your head down and keep moving,” Butch reminded her. “We’ll get through it.”

 

But the crush of people around her hadn’t gotten the memo. They launched themselves at her, waved their autograph books in her face, and snapped pictures at such a rapid pace that it looked like she was surrounded by miniature strobe lights. Lola did her best to charge forth, wanting to get this over with, but she froze when she heard a familiar sound.

 

Lola’s parents had never been the kind to keep guns in the house, which made it all the more alarming to hear the blast of powder. It bit into her ears and left them ringing. She ducked backwards and hit the sturdy wall of Butch behind her.

 

“Get down!” he yelled. His eyes were frantic as they searched the airport and hearing the worry in his voice only made Lola more terrified.

 

She did as she was told, sticking by his side as he tried to shove his way through the crowd while analyzing where the danger was coming from. For all she knew, they were heading right toward the gunman. Standing still wasn’t an option though, and she forced her feet to move.

 

But their efforts weren’t enough. The crowd was flowing away from them, scattering toward the exits, but one man was coming toward them instead. Lola saw the gun before she saw anything else, the black hole of the barrel pointed right at her face. Her stomach lurched against her spine, trying to get away.

 

Just before Butch shoved her behind him, Lola got a glimpse of the gunman’s face. He was tall and thin, with a little bit of a paunch. The years hadn’t been kind to him, giving him a few premature wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. But it wasn’t the way that he had aged that struck Lola. It was the fact that she knew him. She cowered behind Butch, wishing she could blink away the nightmare.

 

“Put the gun down,” Butch said, his voice sounding much more commanding now. “We don’t want any trouble from you.”

 

“You’re trouble enough.” The weapon cracked once again, and Butch crumpled to the ground. Blood flowered from his chest, a vicious bloom that soaked the fabric of his shirt. He tried to push himself back to his feet, but the shot had been a good one.

 

Lola knelt at his side and took his hand. She wanted to run away from the shooter, but she couldn’t outrun a bullet. Instead, she glared at him as she whipped off her scarf and pressed it to the wound. “Ernie. Ernie Proust.”

 

Most of the impromptu audience had made their way to the other side of the building, leaving just the three of them on their side of the airport. The gunman gave her a grim smile. “I’m surprised you remember me, Lola. Or should I say Laura? You didn’t think anyone would recognize you onstage in your heavy makeup and your little outfits, did you? But I always knew it was you.”

 

“Why would you do this?” she demanded. Her fear had turned to anger. “You were the one who tried to shoot me at the bar, weren’t you?”

 

Ernie shrugged. “I didn’t try all that hard, to be honest. Those first few shots were just to get your attention.”

 

Though he was standing right there in front of her, she didn’t understand. She had known him for years before she had become Lola Lennox, and she never would have imagined he would do something like this. “I don’t get it, Ernie. We were friends back in school. Or at least I thought we were. I was kind to you when nobody else was. I sat at your lunch table because I didn’t like the thought of you being alone. Why would you turn around and try to kill me?”

 

The killer shook his head, a grim smile stretching his thin lips. “Laura, Laura, Laura. You might be a big famous star now, and you might have been a very good student back in the day, but it’s clear to me that you aren’t very smart. Don’t you remember all those conversations we had in school, sitting on that bench near the willow tree?”

 

Vague pictures flashed in Lola’s mind. High school wasn’t easy in a small town where everyone had known each other since they were born. She had never really felt as though she fit in, but the kids had been more accepting of her than of others. At least she was somewhat pretty, and that had helped. But Ernie had been the dictionary definition of a nerd. His pants were always freshly pressed, and he had worn a tie on picture day. He was friends with all the teachers, and he never hid his love of science fiction. It wasn’t fair that he should be rejected for being himself, but that was just how things worked.

 

“I remember sitting there with you,” she admitted, “but I don’t see how it has anything to do with this.”

 

“Think a little harder, Laura. Or has the fame gone to your head and eaten all your brains? The popular kids didn’t like us, and you and I used to sit there for entire lunch periods while we made fun of them. You pointed out that Jean Bidwell had drawn her eyeliner on outside her actual eyes to make them look bigger, and you ridiculed Jennifer Stewart for constantly wearing expensive clothes that showed off her midsection because she could never get enough attention from the boys. You hated that they were so fake and that they tried to cover up their insecurities by making fun of others.”

 

“Okay, yeah. I remember that. It was high school, Ernie. It’s a vicious place. What the hell does that have to do with all this?” She gestured helplessly around her, trying to encompass the gun and the crazy situation with something as simple as her hand.

 

“Don’t you get it? You have become what you hated! You were sweet, beautiful, and smart. Now you’ve traded off everything for money and fame, and it disgusts me!” Ernie shook the gun at her wildly, his face reddening as he made his point. “I hoped that we would be together someday, that you would realize I was the only person who understood and appreciated you. Now you’re just like those little sluts you used to make fun of, selling your voice and your body instead of using your mind.”

 

“Ernie, I’m sorry,” Lola whispered desperately. She glanced behind him, hoping to see airport security coming up from behind to take him out. The crowd had crushed themselves against the far side of the building, watching from a distance but not daring to get close. They were probably recording it all, but none of them would come to her aid. She glanced down, seeing the crimson stain of Butch’s blood creeping through the fine fabric of her pale blue scarf. It formed a hideous color that reminded her just how alone she was in the world right now.

 

“I never meant to lead you on or upset you. I’m glad that you saw such wonderful things in me, but I never saw those things in myself. I wasn’t good enough for anybody here, and the only choice was to leave.” Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, but she wasn’t sure if she was crying for her lost childhood, for the loss of everyone she had come to think of as her friend, or for the fact that she would probably be killed in the next few minutes, no matter what she said to Ernie. “I really am sorry.”

 

He was crying too, but his eyes were hard. His were tears of finally getting the vengeance he had always wanted, and Lola was ashamed of herself that she had never seen that in him before. He had been particularly cold-blooded when he had ridiculed the other students, and it wasn’t really a surprise that he would turn into this. “Don’t bother with apologies. It’s too late. You left without even saying goodbye, Laura. You have no idea how much that hurt me, and I don’t think you even care. I could have gone with you.”

 

There was no way Lola could have had a crazy man like this at her side. If he hadn’t been pointing a gun at her head, she would have told him so. “I couldn’t. I had to go or I would never have gotten another chance. But that’s all so far in the past, Ernie, and you don’t need to do this. Just put the gun away.” She held out her hand, her fingers shaking.

 

But Ernie tightened his grip on the pistol. “You know, I just wanted to see you. When I heard you were at The Dive, I was so excited. It was my chance to say hi. I thought we could reconnect, maybe catch dinner while you were here. But everyone else wanted to see you too, and there was no way I could get through the fans. And that’s the thing, Laura, your fans don’t know you like I do, and yet they’re always more important.”

 

“That’s not true.” Out of the corner of her eyes, Lola thought she caught a hint of movement that gave her a surge of hope. She steadily kept her gaze on Ernie though. She couldn’t give it away. It was difficult to look at him, knowing not only how much hurt and pain he harbored but how unreasonable it was. Still, she could turn this into a performance, even if it ended up being her last one.

 

“Sure it is! They know everything about you before I do! It’s only because of everyone gossiping about you online that I know where you are and what you’re doing. That’s how I know you’re pregnant, but nobody seems to know who the father is!” Ernie’s voice was getting loud now, echoing in the silence that had fallen over the building. He tipped the gun down to point it at Butch. “Maybe it’s this guy. Who are you fucking, you little whore?”

 

“Me.”

 

Ernie whipped around, gun at the ready, but Bishop was faster. He had his gun out, but he didn’t shoot it. Instead, his powerful arms swung it wide and whacked Ernie in the side of the head. The gunman went down like a ragdoll, his legs crumpling underneath him and his arms flinging out to his sides. The pistol fell out of his hand and spun uselessly across the floor. Bishop kicked it further away with his boot. He had several bikers at his back, and they moved quickly to make sure Ernie was restrained even if he woke up.

 

Lola remained motionless next to Butch as she watched Bishop walk up to her. He held out his hand, but she was too confused to take it. Every molecule of her body was shaking. “I don’t understand.”

 

A man in leathers knelt down at her side and took over the compress she had been holding to Butch’s chest. He gently pushed her hand away as he began looking over the bodyguard. “The ambulance is on the way,” he assured her.

 

Lola rocked back on her heels, returning her gaze to Bishop. “Why are you here? I thought …”

 

“That I was a complete asshole who took all of his anger and frustration out on you even when you didn’t deserve it? Well, you were right about that.” He came forward and pulled her to her feet. His eyes, the color of a whiskey barrel, held her gaze. “I’m so sorry, Lola. I’m no better than that lunatic with the gun. I want you, but so does the rest of the world. I should have understood that.”

 

It felt like she was finally waking up from a long nightmare that had been holding her hostage. Lola was vaguely aware of the fans as they crept back forward, trusting that the bikers had the situation in hand. This time, she wasn’t worried about getting away from them. “It’s something that I have to learn to accept too. I wouldn’t be who I am without them, no matter what Ernie says.”

 

Everyone had been in a daze while Ernie was in control, but they were awake and eager once again. Airport security was pretending to keep the crowd at bay while uniformed paramedics came and loaded Butch onto a gurney. Reporters and photographers made their way in, impatient to get to the root of the story.

 

“Lola, were you injured?”

 

“Can you confirm reports that you’re from Rolling Hills?”

 

“Do you know who the gunman was?”

 

“Can you tell us what you were doing at the hospital today?”

 

They shouted and pushed, holding out microphones and rapidly firing their cameras. The bikers formed a hard radius around the couple, refusing to let anyone through. The paparazzi seemed to respect their authority, not daring to push past, but they still wanted their questions answered.

 

“Lola!” shouted one woman. “Is this really the father of your child?”

 

She smiled up at Bishop, raising one eyebrow. She knew the truth, but she wasn’t going to reveal it to the crowd. That was up to him. She had her fame, and it wasn’t up to her to make anyone else’s.

 

He smiled back at her, and he didn’t turn to face the reporter as he answered. His hand drifted down to touch her abdomen. “Yes. We’re going to have a baby.”

 

Bishop’s lips crushed against hers, and Lola pressed her body against his. Her world slowly shrank until it was nothing but the two of them. None of the shouts or flashes registered as they told each other everything they felt with only their mouths and hands. She knew now that she wasn’t alone.