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Wedding Crasher by Tara Wylde (36)

Ryan

I run faster than I’ve ever run before in my life.

My feet slip on the linoleum, but even that doesn’t slow me down as I charge down the hall toward the women’s restroom.

I slap both hands on the door and push, but it doesn’t budge. I push again. It moves maybe an inch, but not enough for me to even see what’s on the other side, much less enter.

Keegan nudges me to the side and braces his broad shoulder against the door and shoves. Someone on the other side yelps as Keegan forces the door open, one slow inch at a time.

Visions of the mutilated cat dance before my eyes. It doesn’t matter that it was killed on the road, the thought of Lucy stuck in a small room with a person capable of sending such a message … Black dots dance before my eyes. My hands clutch at thin air as I struggle to stay upright. I can’t lose it right now, not while Lucy needs me.

Feet thunder down the hallway toward us, but I barely notice. All I can do is imagine the horrible things that wait for me on the other side of the door.

As soon as the gap is wide enough, I throw myself through it, desperate to do whatever I can to protect and help Lucy.

I trip over something and fall, my knees connecting with the floor with a teeth-jarring thud.

Heart pounding in my throat, I half turn to see what I tripped over, fully expecting to see Lucy’s broken body lying in a pool of blood.

Instead, I find myself looking into Lucy’s fully alert, bright with life, beautiful hazel eyes. She’s sprawled across Jenna’s chest, using her weight to keep the sobbing woman pinned to the ground. Lucy’s nose is bleeding, but otherwise she doesn’t appear to be injured.

“Lucy? Jenna?” I spin around, expecting to find an armed assailant, a crazed fan, standing on the opposite side of the room, but the only thing I see is that the mirror above the bathroom sinks is shattered and a pistol is laying in front of one of the stalls.

Keegan and the members of the hospital’s security team force themselves into the bathroom. Lucy climbs off Jenna and hurls herself into my arms.

I hold her trembling body against mine as she explains what took place, right down to how she tackled Jenna when she wiped her eyes.

Jenna, crying uncontrollably, doesn’t put up a fight as the hospital security team leads her away.


Twenty minutes later, I finally find a quiet corner where I can enjoy some private time with Lucy. I sit on one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs and pull Lucy onto my lap.

Still feeling shell shocked, I stroke her hair with trembling hands as she repeats what Jenna told her in the bathroom.

“I’m so sorry.” I kiss her cheek, then her forehead. “I don’t remember telling her anything about not dating actresses. And I never, ever dreamed that she was in love with me. She’s always been nothing more than a friend, one of my best friends, like Stephanie.”

“Love makes people do some pretty crazy things,” Lucy says, her voice shaking. “Speaking of which…”

She places a hand on my chest and leverages herself up and into a sitting position. “I realized a few things while Jenna was waving a gun in my face.”

The mental image her words conjure makes me wince. I came so close to losing her.

“I love you too.”

The words shock me.

“What? But I thought you were still in love with Lance. You said that’s why you were writing, because you wanted to remember him.”

Lucy takes one of my hands in both of hers and starts massaging it. “I did, and it did help me remember him, but it did a better job than I expected. It turns out that things weren’t quite as wonderful between us as I wanted to think. Lance was a great guy, but when I was writing his character, Dillion AKA The Manipulator, I remembered how he always tried to spin things so they’d go his way. Every single thing he did had an alternative purpose. It was actually what we were fighting about when the accident happened.”

She takes a deep breath. “I loved him, and a part of me always will, but that’s in my past, and I need to stop living there. Lance is gone. I’m not. I need to stop thinking about my future and what I want.”

My heart stops and then starts beating three times as fast. A small glimmer of hope flutters in my gut. Is it possible …?

Lucy’s gaze meets mine. Her eyes are clear and confident.

“I love you,” she says in a steady voice. “I realized that this morning, while I was writing. I think that’s why I want you to read my manuscript.”

I lift my spare hand and cup her cheek.

“I didn’t tell you this morning, because, well, I wanted a little time to figure some more things out, but then, when I thought Jenna was going to shoot me, it nearly killed me to think that if I died in there, you’d never know. It broke my heart.”

I lean forward. “I love you,” I whisper against her lips.

“I love you too,” Lucy responds. She releases my hand and winds her arms around my neck. “So, what do you say to turning this pseudo relationship into the real thing?”

“Nothing would make me happier.”