Page 31 of Forever Country (Forever Bluegrass #24)
A nnaleigh followed Aiden’s back as he cleared the way to the VIP section to watch Holt perform. Aiden had been British SAS. People instinctively stepped out of his way, yet women looked as if they’d do anything to be thrown in his path, wedding ring on his finger be damned.
“How’s this spot?” Aiden asked her, coming to a stop.
“Looks good to me.” Aiden stepped back, letting Annaleigh move to stand in front of him so she could see the stage instead of his back.
Holt was announced and the crowd went wild.
Holt sang country music but it definitely had a southern rock edge.
His guitar and drums section rocked out as he belted out his lyrics.
People filling Broadway sang at the top of their lungs.
Annaleigh was in awe of the way he commanded the stage and how effortlessly he interacted with his fans.
“Annaleigh,” a man shouted halfway through Holt’s set. Aiden moved to cut him off and Benton pushed him. “Out of my way, bruh.”
“I’m not your bruh,” Aiden said, deathly serious. “And I don’t think Miss Astore wants your company.”
“Just how many guys are you screwing, Annaleigh?” Benton hissed. “You were always a frigid bitch with me. What, don’t I have enough money to get you to spread your legs?”
Annaleigh gasped as if Benton had punched her in the stomach. Aiden’s hand whipped out and grabbed Benton’s neck at the same time Holt grunted and people began to scream.
Annaleigh forgot about Benton when the music stopped playing. Holt was standing on the stage staring down at blood running down his arm and dripping from his fingers onto his guitar.
People were screaming and stampeding away from the stage. “Holt!” Annaleigh screamed, trying to scramble over the barrier to get to him as security shoved her back. Security was on the stage as Holt strode across it as if he hadn’t just been shot.
Annaleigh felt someone grab her arm, yanking her back from the stage. She thought it was Aiden, but when she looked back, it was Benton. Aiden was pushing his way through the stampede that had separated them.
“Get your damn hands off my girlfriend!” Holt yelled, still mic’d up. His voice snapped out through the giant bank of speakers and even the people running from the gunshots stopped and looked back at the stage.
Annaleigh looked back to where Holt jumped from the stage. “Holt! You’re shot!” Annaleigh screamed in horror as he used one hand to hop the security guardrail.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I can do a lot with one hand.” Then he pulled back his one good arm and slammed his fist into Benton’s face. “I told you to get your hands off my girlfriend. You should have listened.”
Aiden was there, grabbing Annaleigh and yanking her in the opposite direction even as he was calling in medics. “Stop!” Annaleigh ordered, but Aiden kept manhandling her away from Holt.
“My job is to keep you safe, and that’s what I’m doing,” Aiden told her through gritted teeth. “I’ll go back for him, but first I have to get you to safety. You’re my client.”
“But Holt is your friend!” Annaleigh was frantic.
“He is, so stop fighting me so I can get you to safety and get back to my friend.”
That got through her panic and she grabbed Aiden’s hand.
“Run,” she told him and he did. She kept up with him until she was sitting in the security office of Sebastian’s hotel.
He’d told them to keep the door locked and someone with her until he was back.
Then he took off running as Annaleigh began to pace.
She wouldn’t rest until she had Holt in her arms.
The bullet had slammed into Holt's right biceps, causing him to drop the guitar pic. It took him a solid second to realize he’d been shot. It wasn’t until he looked at his arm and saw the blood that it registered what had happened. Then all hell broke loose.
Holt’s attention had gone straight to Annaleigh. He saw the moment the crowd overpowered Aiden and they got separated. He also saw the moment Benton Proctor grabbed Annaleigh’s arm and yanked her to him. That’s when Holt saw red for another reason than being covered in blood.
He didn’t even feel the pain of the gunshot wound when he hopped the gate and slammed his fist into Benton’s face. Aiden appeared and did exactly what Holt wanted—he got Annaleigh the hell out of there. Now it was Benton, Holt, and a lot of cell phones aimed right at them.
“Did you do this?” Holt asked Benton, using his uninjured hand to indicate the bullet that may or may not still be in his arm.
Benton looked shocked, shaking his head even as his eye began to swell.
“No! I was right here with Annaleigh when you were shot. I didn’t shoot you.
I want you to become my client. Annaleigh doesn’t know how to be your agent, only how to whore herself—” Benton didn’t get to finish the sentence.
As police were converging on them, and as Aiden was racing back to him, Holt slammed his fist into Benton’s face one more time, this time, hearing his nose break.
“I’m going to sue you for this!” Benton screamed.
“Good. Because when I defend myself in court, I will call the women of Astore Entertainment, and maybe some of the women you went to college with, to the stand. You’ll be ruined even more.”
“Get me a bloody medic!” Aiden bellowed with composure as he ripped off his belt, shoving Benton out of the way, and pulling out a handkerchief.
He folded the handkerchief and placed it over the wound.
He then used his belt to keep pressure on it, which was slightly less pressure than if he were using it as a tourniquet.
“Where’s Annaleigh? Is she safe?” Holt asked as police converged on him.
“She’s where we agreed and she’s safe. Worried about you, mate.
” Aiden looked at the wound under the belt and Holt could see him relax somewhat.
“It’s a through and through.” Then Aiden turned to the officer and began issuing orders on where to search, which direction the bullet was from, and agreed that Benton also needed a medic from slipping and falling during the stampede.
“Let’s get you to the hospital,” an officer said, but Holt wasn’t paying attention to him. There were people way more hurt lying in the street and sitting on the sidewalk.
“I’m fine. Aiden will take me. Use the ambulance for those who really need it.” Holt glanced at the destruction the stampede of frightened people had left behind. “Aiden—”
“Yeah, mate. Let’s go help. Then we’re going to the hospital.”
“Deal.”
Aiden and Holt worked side by side helping people who were hurt as more police and medics began to arrive.
Police wouldn’t allow medics in until the area was proven secure.
So for a while, Holt and Aiden moved freely around with other festival goers who had some medical training, ranging from doctors to EMTs and a forensic guy who wasn’t used to live patients.
“I let Annaleigh know what we were doing and how you’ve been doing,” Aiden told him thirty minutes later. “But we need to get you to the hospital now. You’ve lost enough blood. Police and medics are here now and are able to take care of the rest of the people.”
A woman Holt had just finished helping hugged him tight. “Thank you for finding my daughter. Bless you, but go to the doctor.”
Holt gave the woman and child a smile as Aiden flagged down a patrolman. “Can you take Holt to the hospital for a GSW?” Aiden asked as the patrolman quickly told them that he could. “I’ll get Annaleigh and meet you there. I have felt my phone going crazy in my pocket, so I’ll update everyone too.”
“Thanks, Aiden. My phone was backstage. I doubt it’s still there though.”
“If it is, I’ll find it. I’ll see you soon with Annaleigh.”
Holt sat in the front of the patrol car as sirens were turned on and the officer began to make his way to the hospital. So far, there have been no deaths, thank goodness. But what the hell had happened and why had he been shot?
Annaleigh took calls from Holt’s parents, his brother, and most of Keeneston. In a way, it was a blessing because they kept her so busy she didn’t realize how much time had passed since Aiden had basically locked her in the security offices of the SA Hotel.
Her heart rate still hadn’t slowed and it wouldn’t until she saw Holt. Aiden texted that Holt had been shot through the arm and was keeping pressure on with the use of his belt, slowing the bleeding down. However, he’d also let her know that Holt had insisted on helping his injured fans.
Pictures and videos of Holt and Aiden helping fans were flooding the media. Maddie was shooting off text after text with links. All Annaleigh could focus on was the amount of blood coating Holt’s arm and T-shirt. And how it was slowly growing over the past half hour.
Holt was taken to the hospital by police. Will pick you up in two minutes.
Exactly two minutes later, Aiden was buzzed into the security office. “Let’s grab some clean clothes and get to the hospital before Keeneston descends on us. I can practically hear all the car doors closing and tires squealing from here.”
There had been quite a few mentions about leaving in the group text. “Holt’s family is grabbing a private jet. They’ll be landing in forty-five minutes,” she told him.
Annaleigh raced into their suite, changed her clothes, and grabbed clean clothes for Holt while Aiden changed from his bloodied clothes. He met her at her door, shoving a windbreaker jacket at her.
“Wear this. My wife designed it. It’s bulletproof.” Aiden turned, leaving her to quickly put it on and follow him to the staff elevator. “Holt was taken to Vanderbilt Hospital. Can you let the text tree know?”
Annaleigh sent the update as Aiden sped a couple of miles to the hospital. He parked in the ER lot, and while Aiden swore Holt was okay, Annaleigh was still nervously shaking and trying to remember to breathe as they rushed into the ER.
Aiden pulled out his identification. “Private security for Holt Everett.”