OBSESSED
OLIVIA RODRIGO
I understand nowwhy movies do these kinds of scenes in slow motion, because that’s how it happens. The world slows down and I can swear a clock ticks at half speed. The gun fires, and I watch the knife plunge into Ren as I burst forward. I’m sure I could run faster in quicksand. There’s no pain when I slam into Julie, sending us both flying through the window and out onto the front lawn. I don’t register the glass in my arm and face or the dislocated shoulder. My mind has only one thought.
Renate.
“LAPD,” someone announces behind me. I chuckle because it sounded so strange—the LA still in slow motion and the PD speeding through my brain while it catches up to real time. “Stay on the ground, hands out, now!”
“Chase!” Mills yells, running toward me as he waves off the cops and holds up his ID before he pulls me off Julie. “Where’s Ren?”
I watch the cops pile onto Julie, shouting about a gun as she regains consciousness. I’m trying to focus, but there’s something in my eye. Everything turns red, then blue, then red. Two ambulances pull in front of the house. “Ren,” I whisper, trying to remember. “REN!” I scream and he helps me to my feet. I fumble past the cops and back into the house, stepping over Luis’s body as I try to get to her.
“Medics!” Mills yells from behind me. “We need paramedics in here now!”
“Sunshine, talk to me.” I pat her bruised and bloody face and cradle her in my arms. Pongo’s on the ground next to her, licking her hand. “Come on Ren.”
“Mama?” she moans, turning her head from side to side, but her eyes are still shut. I check and find her mother sitting up, touching her forehead. “She’s gonna be okay. Don’t worry about her. Come on, show me those beautiful eyes of yours.”
Police yell about the house being clear and a pair of EMTs tell me I have to move, but I don’t want to. I need her to look at me. I need to know she’s going to be okay.
“Please, please open your eyes for me, Renate. I love you. I love you so much, you know that, right? Sunshine?”
Her eyes flutter open and focus on me. “Puppy?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here, my queen.”
“Who did that to you?” She tries to reach up to touch my face, but can’t move her arm high enough. “I’m gonna kick their ass.”
I reach up and wince at the glass shards in my forehead. Cyn’s going to kill me for that. “Hey, scars are sexy, right?”
Mills pulls me away so the paramedics can do their thing. He takes me over to the couch and I glance around at the glass and blood that litter the floor.
Another set of paramedics comes over to me, one working on my face, the other checks my arm, but I’m more concerned about Ren and her mother.
“We’ve got a gunshot here,” the paramedic says, and I glance down, not realizing he’s talking about me.
“Hey, aren’t you—” the other paramedic asks me, but I cut her off.
“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” She wipes blood out of my eye, clearing my vision. I stare at my arm as they wrap it, but it doesn’t feel like it belongs to me.
“Cool. You’re pretty fucked up, dude. Hope you’re doing a lot of action movies over the next few weeks.”
“I can’t even feel this shit.”
“It’s the shock. We’ll get you something for the pain at the hospital and make sure there’s no other damage.”
Someone’s screaming outside, yelling at the cops about her mom and sister. Mills disappears, coming back a few minutes later with a very pissed off Dani in tow. She runs over to her mother, who’s wide awake now and sitting on the stretcher as they take her blood pressure while she complains about the mess. She gives Dani an earful about her language until the EMT stops her and tells her she needs to stay calm.
Even with a knife wound, Ren tries to fight me about going to the hospital. When we step outside, we find Julie in custody and handcuffed to a stretcher. She screams about the glass in my face, and I’m tempted to walk over and point out the three-inch piece sticking out of one of her eyes. I’m pretty sure I’d puke if I stare at it for too long.
Mills stays behind to talk to the police, promising to bring Pongo to the hospital for me as soon as he’s done. The paps arrive just in time to watch me climb into one ambulance with Ren, and Dani into another with their mother. I’m sure they’re getting plenty of shots of my blood face and shirt. It should make them some decent money. I make a mental note to pick up the tabloids tomorrow to see just how crazy their theories get.
* * *
“Jesus, you look like hell. Tell me you’ve already called the plastic surgeon.”
“Nice to see you, too, Cyn,” I reply with as much of a smile as I can manage. “And yes, I called a place your assistant recommended when she dropped off coffee and a script for me this morning.”
