RISEN
Watching her on stage, commanding the attention of everyone, she is amazing. I stand in awe listening to her. Obviously, she made an off the cuff presentation, and instilling humor about her wardrobe malfunction was genius.
Watching the patrons, sponsors, trainers, and competitors take in everything she says, China has them all enthralled in her natural grace, beauty, and poise. And even when she looked as if she’d fall apart, she’d taken it upon herself to make sure the event went off without a hitch.
It was noticeable to anyone with eyes that she was about to fall to pieces, and when she looked my way, pulling in a deep controlled breath before giving her toast, I had a feeling she was going down. Starting to make my way across the room, I pull the walkie out of my pocket. “Trevor,” I say quietly, waiting for a response. I hadn’t seen him in this part of the venue, but I knew he’d be close by.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“I think I’m gonna be tied up for a bit. You got this with Riggs?” I’m hoping the urgency is conveyed in my voice. Passing by the tables, making my way toward the side stage, I’m rushing.
“Sure.” Without waiting for his answer, I put the walkie back in my pocket and look up to see China on her way down the stairs. She’s just out of view with the curtain obscuring her, but I can see she’s close to tears. Picking up the pace, moving as quickly as I can without raising the attention of the reporters, I know the last thing she needs is additional bad publicity.
Once I get to her, she’s hiccupping for air. The tears stream down in massive rivulets across her cheeks. Seeing her father’s car and toasting them in memoriam was a tipping point.
As she reaches the final stair, her legs give out and she falls directly into my arms like a rag doll. Tucking her close, cupping her weightless frame, I shoulder her. Draping her arms around my neck, the grief flows out.
I walk her around the side, toward the rear stage entrance. “Who are you?” Turning slightly, a tiny five-foot-nothing dressed like a supermodel eyeballs me like I’m a thief in the night.
“I’m just here to help Miss Crown. Are you a friend of hers?” I ask as two other insanely gorgeous women appear like smoke.
“Yes, we are. You still didn’t answer why you have our best friend in your arms,” the taller of the three women snaps. She’s a knockout. With flawless caramel skin and a scowl to make even me shudder, she glares at me.
I shift China’s weight slightly, enjoying the warmth of her against me way too much. “I’m Officer Mason. And as you can tell by the matching fashion statement, she and I came as a foodie duo.”
“Oh, I like this one. Humor and a set of balls. Can we keep him?” the tiny one asks, turning to the quietest of the bunch. She’s the one I fear. Easily the leader of the pack, and the one that holds all the ‘Doll is mine’ cards. Quietly surveying my intentions, she turns to the man stepping up behind her.
“Could you hand our friend over, please? I’d feel more comfortable with her in the arms of someone I know.”
“We can argue over who she loves more in a minute, but for now, can we get her out of the way of prying eyes?” I motion to the rear of the room where I know there’s an exit.
“Officer, why don’t you do as the girls ask and hand over Doll.”
Knowing a pissing match is inevitable, I don’t back down. Not with him. “Do you ladies think you can get her limo to come up to the rear?”
“I’d like to have your limo come up the rear,” one of the girls mutter as we move down the empty hall. Ignoring her quip, even though I’m smiling inside, we start toward the double doors marked EXIT. The man in our entourage skips ahead a few steps, pushing through, holding it open for Larry, Curly, Moe, and myself. Stopping short of allowing me through, he attempts to shoulder his way through first. “Don’t think I’m happy about this,” he says all short and growly. It’s meant as a threat, but I understand it as it is. Our history clouds his judgement of my help. And I’d say he cares for her deeply because it’s written all over his face in the way he watches China.
“Understood, Mr. Anchor,” I say in a clipped tone he knows well.
Trellis motions for the women to pass as he holds the door back. The tiny little firecracker of a lady in the marshmallow dress ventures out first. Smiling up at me, I have the feeling she’s the dirty minded one of the crew as her eyes travel the length of me. Grinning at me like I’m a free donut at the coffee shop on cheat day, she moves along. The second, the Nubian princess, pauses partway. Harrumphing while looking me up and down, she then walks ahead too.
The leader of their entourage stops as she approaches. “Look, I don’t know why you have Doll, and right now, I’m really grateful. But you do something wrong and I’ll have you arrested in seconds, Officer.”
“And I believe you, miss. Can we go?”
“By all means, lead the way.” She motions for me to advance as she checks the surrounding area. I’m assuming she’s looking for paparazzi. I know I would if my best friend was having a breakdown in the arms of a stranger.
“Okay, big boy. Time to vacate. The car’s waiting outside,” the dark princess informs, holding the door open for the rest of us.
We pile out to a quiet little alley near the garbage incinerator. “Careful,” the protective one calls out as she passes through, then waits at the bottom of the stairs.
Looking so petite in my arms, it’s funny. Even though she’s falling apart, I can’t help but find the beauty in China’s sadness. The way her freckles brighten, the darkening of her thick, wet eyelashes, and the remaining smeared raspberry that clings to her face only adds to her beauty.
“Hold on, sweetheart,” I tell China as I gingerly step down the stairs. One at a time, watching every move I make, I creep carefully. The last thing I need now is to drop her. I’m afraid of the catfight I’d have on my hands from the ‘We love Doll’ brigade, not to mention, Trellis Anchor’s ensuing threats.
The driver of the limo, an older gentleman of obvious military background, holds the door as each of the girls step inside. Scooching across to give room for their friend, the driver asks, “Do you have her, sir?”
“No worries. Just hold the door open, please.” Bending down, I whisper in China’s ear. “Here you go. Your friends are here. They’ll take good care of you.”
As I set her on the seat, she hiccups air as tears stream down. She turns toward the friend closest and curls up on her lap. Trellis hops in beside them, holding her hand tightly, and I find I’m utterly jealous of him in this moment. Rising out of the car door, I touch her, for probably the last time, I rub a smudge of sauce off her cheek.
“Thank you, Officer Mason. Don’t worry, she’s in good hands now,” Trellis clips off, rather nasty, as if we’ve never met.
“Take care of her, yeah?” I say, staring into the eyes of her strong-willed friend.
“China’s in the best of hands.” Looking to Trellis, she dismisses me. “Thank you.” She then closes the door.
Stepping back to the curb, watching the driver hop in, they take off down the street. For the second time, I’ve been around for a bad day in China Crown’s life, and it’s crushed me more inside each time.