things.”
So does this confirm the breakup? Sure seems that way, since Ryan has been seen secretly hooking up with his newly single co-star, Lauren
Delaney, in Miami. Looks like Ryan and Lauren’s relationship is back on!
“Guess we won’t see Ryan Christensen here in Seaport anymore. He broke up with her,” the unfamiliar female customer sitting at the bar
whispered to her friend, nodded in my direction.
I tapped a pitcher of beer for another customer, trying to ignore their conversation, but it was difficult.
“How could she be so stupid? I mean if she let that slip through her fingers, then she doesn’t deserve him,” the other girl whispered back.
I finally had enough. “Excuse me? We didn’t break up. When are you people going to realize that those tabloids publish nothing but lies?”
“Tar, leave it go,” Marie quickly interrupted my rant.
“No! I’m sick of this! I’m sick of people whispering about me in my own bar!” I looked directly at the two girls who started my tirade.
“My boyfriend, who I am still with, is filming in Florida! He is working fourteen hour days, seven days a week without a break to make a movie for
all of you ungrateful people to enjoy!” I raised my voice. “And this is the thanks he gets?”
“Tar,” Marie grabbed my arm, “you don’t owe anyone an explanation about your personal life.” Marie said that loud enough for most to hear.
“Where are your boyfriends, huh?” I asked the two girls. “Did you have sex with them last night? Do you have pictures? Come on - tell me… I
have a right to know. It’s only fair! You know my life; I want to know yours. If you’re going to be out in public, then your life is no longer private either.”
“Sorry, we didn’t mean to upset you,” the one girl apologized.
“Ryan and I are people, just like you,” I retorted. “Just because he makes a living being a working actor does not mean he gave up having a
private life. You’re entitled to privacy – so are we.”
Between the false accusations, Kyle’s questionable behavior, the lurking paparazzi, and being separated from Ryan, I was just about ready to
go out of my mind. I couldn’t wait to get on that plane and head to Florida for some fun in the sun with my love.
Only eight more hours and two flights to endure before I finally get to see him. I pulled my white cotton shirt over my head and debated over what
coat to wear. It was a balmy twenty-seven degrees outside my window but it would be in the seventies when I land in Miami. I put a thin top over my
T-shirt – deciding it would be best to dress in layers.
I stopped to make sure the back door was locked before I rolled my suitcase down the alley. Of course when I stepped outside Jimmy Pop and
two other photographers were staked out, waiting to catch me doing something wrong. That’s all I needed; one more photograph to set the gossip
magazines ablaze with their lies.
If these magazines only knew how many lives they almost tear apart with their fabricated stories and false accusations. What a pathetic way to
make a buck. I hated all of them and everyone who worked for them.
“You have a nice, safe trip, Miss Taryn!” Jimmy Pop wished me well.
“Thank you Jimmy,” I softly said, giving him a brief smile for his kindness. He had his camera pointing down; he was the only photographer to
leave me a moment of peace. Since I was leaving, the three photographers departed in the opposite direction. They had no reason to hang around
my door any longer.
I rolled my suitcase down the slushy asphalt, pausing at the mouth of the alley where the snowplow had made mounds of dirty, watery snow. I
wanted to keep my suitcase clean and dry and this small trek down the alley was not helping. I took my time walking the last few feet that would put
me in the street; the cold February air had caused some of the melting snow to refreeze and I didn’t want to have my picture taken slipping on the
ice and falling down. That would be embarrassing for sure.
I lifted my suitcase over a small pile of snow and glanced up and down Mulberry Street for traffic.
Terror - absolute terror - blazed through me from the sight that my eyes took in. I froze in place, stifling the urge to scream.
Adrenaline coursed into my veins when I saw her, Angelica, sitting in her old, blue Plymouth Gran Fury not more than sixty feet from where I
stood. The fear she incited slid through me like a hot knife in warm butter; she was out of prison and waiting for me.
Our eyes made contact; I could feel her hatred for me blast through the air and strike me where I stood, gluing my feet to the ground. This would
be her moment, the time that she’d been waiting for, to finally take me out of the picture.
I saw her hand reach up and pull the gear shifter down to put her car in drive. So much for slicing me into pieces. The thick steel bumper and
crushing weight of her old car would flatten me like a steamroller. She pulled the old Plymouth away from the curb; her car slowly rolled to the stop
sign. My mind did the quick mental calculation to determine whether I could make it across the slushy, icy street dragging my suitcase before she
could run me down. I was not safe on the sidewalk either and I was too far away from my back door to run; besides, I had a plane to catch. I had no
choice; my car across the street in the lot would be my only sanctuary.
My eyes were locked on hers as I stepped out into the street; I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of looking away if she was going to run me
down. I would not go out being a coward.
I was almost halfway across the street, but she hadn’t moved an inch. Why isn’t she speeding at me? I expected her to mash her foot down on
the gas pedal and careen her car in my direction.
I allowed my eyes one brief glance at the opposing sidewalk when I noticed the silver streak in front of my eyes. If she didn’t move, why do I hear
tires screeching?
The searing pain in my stomach was what I felt first; pain like I had never felt before in my life. The battering ram that struck me instantly knocked
the air out of my lungs. My fingers peeled away from the handle of my suitcase without any conscious effort on my part. I felt my chin smack down
with force on a cold, flat surface. The contact made my cheek smear on the blur of shimmery silver.
Just like the time when I had watched Ryan film his fight sequence, I had the sensation of ropes pulling me sideways, followed by the feeling of
flying. Why am I rolling?
The pain returned; a new pain this time cracked into my left hand and shot all the way up my arm, followed by a painful smack in the head.
Instantly I was cold and wet, watching my life pass before my eyes.
The last thing I remember was hearing the jingling sound of my collection of keys when they landed on the ground.
Then… everything went black.
Chapter 31 - Broadsided
I heard the dark shadow whisper “she’s not breathing” before his lips pressed into mine. The shadow’s warm breath was stale and lifeless, and
tasted like a mixture of blood and cigarettes. I felt the shadow’s strength when he touched my face, pinching my nose with force.
Ow, that hurts! Be gentle!
The wind that he blew into my chest burned my lungs like fire.
“Oh my God! Oh my God!” a female voice cried out. Her halo glowed like a sparkling rainbow around her head. “I tried to stop!” she sobbed.
Don’t worry heavenly angel. It’s okay! I tried to say, but no words came from my mouth. I wanted to calm her, stop her from crying. Why can’t I
speak to her?
“Miss Taryn!” the male voice cried, blowing another gust of searing wind into my chest. His third gust filled my soul; I felt my breast rise to the