He didn’t catch the front end of that question, but he wouldn’t have answered it anyway. The contract he’d signed when he’d agreed to appear on the show had been very specific about the type of information he could divulge before the episode aired.
“Mr. Stone, how do you feel the interview went?”
Tucked in close to Asher’s side, Cameron jerked his head up at being addressed directly. He’d gone a little pale, but he swallowed a couple of times and smiled. “I think the interview went very well.”
Ryder shuffled them forward a few more steps, using his body as much as possible to keep the eager journalists from getting too close.
“Mr. Dare, is this the first time you’ve seen your parents since you ran away as a teenager?”
“I didn’t run away,” he answered clearly, his voice carrying. “And no. I saw them briefly a couple of weeks ago.” He left it purposely vague and took another step, moving closer to the curb and the sanctuary of the black Escalade.
“Can you confirm the allegations of abuse?”
“Is it true that your parents kicked you out for being gay?”
“Do you have any plans to rebuild a relationship with your parents?”
“Have they asked you for money?”
“Are you concerned about their motivations?”
The questions assailed him, each one rolling into the next until a faint pressure began building at the base of Asher’s skull. Reporters pressed in closer, jostling him in their eagerness to capture every word, every facial tick.
“Back up!” Ryder shouted, but no one paid any attention to him.
Asher cursed when Cameron stumbled sideways into the throng of bodies.
“Enough!” a voice bellowed loud enough to be heard over the din of reporters.
Asher snapped his head up, his hand still reaching for Cameron as he searched for the owner of the voice. Time froze. Sounds dulled. His blood ran cold as his heart lurched into his throat as the scene around him blurred at the edges.
Standing less than ten feet away, Kyle Anders held Cameron around the neck as he raised his right hand and pointed the barrel of a sleek, black handgun at his temple.
A woman screamed. Someone gasped. A man shouted out a warning as everyone scrambled for cover.
Next to Asher, Ryder unholstered his own weapon and aimed it at Kyle as he took up a perfect shooter’s stance.Carefully, slowly, he inched forward, sidestepping to place himself between Asher and the threat.
“Stay behind me,” he ordered. Then, to Kyle, he shouted, “Drop the gun!”
Kyle took a few steps back and dug the barrel of the gun into Cameron’s temple, making him wince. “Don’t come any closer,” he warned. “I don’t think he’d be so pretty with a hole in his head, would he?”
The fear that had paralyzed Asher diminished, ushering in a consuming fury he’d never felt before. He surged forward a single, jerky stride, only to find his way blocked by Ryder.
“Asher?” Cameron croaked, shaking his head as much as the arm around his neck would allow. “Asher, don’t.”
Blood roared in his ears as his heart hammered painfully against his ribs. “Cameron, sweetheart, everything is going to be okay.” Fuck, it was so far out of the realm ofokay, but he couldn’t think that way. Cameron needed him. He shifted his attention. “Kyle, he has nothing to do—”
“This is your fault!” Kyle screamed at him. “Why did you have to ruin everything?”
He looked thinner than the last time Asher had seen him. His skin appeared stretched and sallow, pulled tight over prominent cheekbones and a protruding jaw. Tangled hair hung lank and greasy around his unshaven jaw,partially obscuring his face, but nothing could hide the manic gleam in his sunken eyes.
“I don’t know what you think I did, but—”
“You ruined it!” Kyle screeched. “You took everything. This was supposed to be my turn, and you fucking ruined it!”
He hadn’t asked the guy to drive across three states just to blackmail him. He hadn’t been the one to spread lies and rumors. He wasn’t the one who had sowed so much discord and turned everyone’s lives upside down.
“Why do you get everything?” Kyle demanded. The gun shook in his white-knuckled grip as he prodded more insistently at Cameron’s temple. “I have nothing. Nothing!”
