Blacklist. Alyson Noel
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you haven’t even read the card yet! There was a card that came with it—it had a cartoon picture of a seriously messed-up cat, and—”
“Don’t need to,” he interrupted. “I meant what I said.”
“I can’t even believe this!” Layla’s voice was harsh, attracting the attention of the drunks at the bar, and she wore an expression so furious Tommy cringed when he met it.
He nodded toward the guy aiming a camera in their direction. “Pretty sure the waitress alerted the paparazzi. I’m guessing we have less than five minutes before we’re swarmed. Guess you should’ve ordered more than a coffee.”
Instinctively, he slung a protective arm around Layla’s shoulder, scowled at the photog, and rushed her toward the door, all the while cursing himself for so quickly abandoning his vow to be done with her. First sign of trouble and there he was, jumping to Layla’s rescue, willing to do whatever it took to protect her. It was the decent thing to do, sure, but it also left him wondering if he’d ever truly be over her.
He’d see her safely to her car and no more. After that, they’d go their separate ways. He wished her and Aster well, but this was the end as far as he was concerned. Tommy Phillips was officially moving on.
Spotlight magazine exclusive!
Spotlight: We here at Spotlight recently caught up with teen heartthrob Ryan Hawthorne, who has been through a whirlwind of a rough time lately. Between the cheating scandal that led to the very public breakup with his girlfriend, A-lister Madison Brooks, followed by Madison’s disappearance, Ryan himself being called in for questioning, and the cancellation of his show (which we just received confirmation of after weeks of rumors) . . . Well, Ryan, first things first—our condolences on all the bad news. How are you holding up?
Ryan: Thanks, but no condolences needed. Life has its cycles, and peaks are always bordered by valleys. The key is to accept each stage as it comes, find the lesson so you can learn and grow and try not to repeat your mistakes, and never, ever take the good times for granted, or the dark moments personally.
Spotlight: Well, that’s certainly very enlightened of you. Not sure we could maintain such serenity in the face of all you’ve been dealing with. Maybe we need a new life coach or yoga studio!
Ryan: Is there a question here?
Spotlight: Certainly, and we’ll get right to it! We know Spotlight readers are dying to hear your take on these recent events, including the arrest of your former paramour, Aster Amirpour, just hours after you spoke to detectives. Do you have any thoughts you’d like to share pertaining to Aster’s arrest and the part she allegedly played in the murder of Madison Brooks? Was there some insight or clue you shared with police that led them to the discovery of the blood-soaked dress?
Ryan: Are you serious?
Spotlight: Well, even you have to admit the timing is extremely suspicious. . . .
Ryan: What I know is that I willingly spoke to the police. I wasn’t “dragged in for questioning” or however you chose to relay it at the time. Also, I had nothing to do with the discovery of the dress or Aster’s arrest. I was as surprised as you are. You have to understand that I haven’t spoken to Aster since the scene at Night for Night. And though I deeply regret my actions, which I’ve stated on countless occasions, I sincerely doubt Aster had anything to do with Madison’s disappearance. I also don’t believe Madison is dead.
Spotlight: And the dress?
Ryan: What about it?
Spotlight: Bloodstains don’t lie. And from what we’ve learned so far, the dress was covered in them.
Ryan: I can hardly be expected to comment on things I know nothing about. I’ve made my feelings clear, and I stand by my word. All I can do is continue praying for Madison’s safe return, and see how it all plays out once the case goes to trial. If you’re asking me to speculate, well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I won’t do that.
Spotlight: Right. Well, we thank you for taking the time to speak with us, and like you, we’re also praying for Madison’s return. Before you go, any hints for what’s next?
Ryan: I’ve got a few projects in the works, but nothing I can announce just yet.
Spotlight: Well, I hope you’ll consider giving us an exclusive!
Ryan: Yeah. Um, okay. We’ll see.
Spotlight: You read it here first, life moves on for Ryan Hawthorne, and we at Spotlight wish him all the best!
“Why are you scowling like that?”
Mateo tossed the magazine aside and rushed to the side of his little sister’s hospital bed. He brushed a concerned hand over her forehead, relieved to find her skin mercifully cool, showing no sign of the fever that had started it all just one week before.
A fever, followed by bruising, unexplained weight loss, and eventually a fainting episode at school. Acute lymphoblastic leukemia was the official diagnosis, or ALL as they called it—a scary name for when the body went rogue and decided to manufacture too many immature white blood cells. And now, because of it, Valentina’s immune system was so weakened she’d succumbed to an opportunistic infection.
“How are you feeling?” He struggled to shake off any lingering traces of anger the article had sparked. But seeing his little sister looking so helpless and small among all the needles and tubes and the port in her chest awaiting chemotherapy only managed to trigger him more.
This was what truly mattered! His fingers circled the bed rails so hard his knuckles pushed taut against his skin. Yes, a celebrity had gone missing, had maybe even been murdered, which was an undeniably terrible thing, but did it really deserve to claim every headline when there were so many innocents suffering in the world?
What made Madison’s story more worthy than the tragic tale of his sweet little sister?
Why did people care more about celebrities than the fate of everyday people?
Valentina regarded him closely. “Well, now I really need to read it.” She nodded toward the magazine. “The way it got you all wound up, there’s clearly something good in there, so hand it over, please!”
Mateo frowned and made no move to retrieve the magazine. “You shouldn’t be reading that stuff.” Even to his ears he sounded stodgy, old, and judgmental, but he assured himself he was only trying to protect her.
“Why, because I’m too young?”
In his eyes, Valentina would always be the cherished baby sister he’d give his life for. But knowing how much she’d hate hearing that, he leaned against the bed rail, brushed her long dark curls away from her forehead, and said, “No, because it’s too trashy for a classy princess like you.”
She tried to scowl in return, but it was only a second later when her face burst into a grin that made his heart lurch. The fact that she could even manage such a thing in light of all she was facing was almost too much to bear.
How was it possible that just a few weeks earlier she’d celebrated her birthday looking as vibrant and healthy as any other ten-year-old girl, only to end up in this horrible, sterile room with its mint-green walls and tired floors, hooked up to various tubes and machines responsible for keeping her alive?
Seeing