Obsessive love

Chapter 3 - Scared

***POV MIA***

"Thank you for calling me." I hang up hastily. Richard, Jordan's lawyer, doesn't have to realize that I'm about to have a crying fit. I let myself sink to the floor along the wall, tears running. Jordan doesn't get free. He's being transferred to Boston, Massachusetts State Prison. Admittedly, only to pre-trial detention and not to the penitentiary, but that doesn't make it any better. I know how much he loves his freedom. It will destroy him. Being locked up and at the mercy of others is hell for him. I am his bodyguard and his fiancée. I can do NOTHING for him. I carry his baby under my heart. He doesn't even know it. I will definitely not tell him now either.

Donnie comes out of the recording studio into the dining room and sees me on the floor.

"Hey. What's wrong?"

He takes me in his arms and cradles me gently. There's no way to be sad when Donnie opens his heart, yet tears continue to run down my cheeks like torrents.

"Richard called. Jordan's being transferred to Boston, but I don't think he'll get out before the trial."

"Oh shit. What did he do?"

"I don't believe it anyway. Supposedly he raped a woman and got her pregnant."

"Jordan? That's ridiculous! There's no way he'd be capable of something like that! He can't even kill a mosquito that's already bitten him twice."

"That's what I said. And yet ... Donnie, what am I going to do?" I'm shaken by the next crying fit, and I hear him sniffling, too.

"We'll get him out of there. Somehow."

***

The next morning, I'm sitting in front of my decaf coffee, unrested. I'd rather have caffeine, but the baby wouldn't. So I somehow try to calm my restless head and wake up my overtired body. It's a little like trying to square the circle.

I watch the flatscreen that Donnie and Jenny have installed in the kitchen. An anchorwoman in an ill-fitting, squeaky-yellow costume is announcing news.

"An accident was nearly caused on the downtown highway in Chicago this morning because a wagon train of cars was blocking the road across toward the airport. The target of the blockade was a prisoner transport truck. We can neither confirm nor deny it, but according to the blockaders, Jordan Knight, member of the pop group New Kids on the Block, was in said van. The blockade was broken up with police force and the women, who kept shouting Jordan must be free, were made to let the van pass under threat of further arrest. One woman even tried to enter the van, she is in custody for the time being. Channel 7 is staying on top of this for you and as soon as we know confirmed details, we will update."

"Darn it!" says Donnie loudly next to me. Startled, I jump up.

"Where did you come from all of a sudden?"

"I live here," is his dry reply. "How the heck do the fans know about all this? And why are they doing crap like this? It's not helping anyone! I've got to call Jared. The best thing I can do is make a video conference. We really need to make sure Jordan is left alone."

He scurries out of the kitchen, leaving me amazed, terrified, and speechless. He's right. How do the fans know Jordan is in trouble? I was paying attention when he was arrested. The few fans promised not to say anything and, as far as I could see, no one was taking pictures or even filming. So where is the security gap?

I'm worried because Jordan in jail is already bad, but if who he is gets out there, he's not safe anymore. A white celebrity in an American jail is a sitting duck for extortion, assault, and worse.