We tried to get out of the alcove. Gwennie pushed forward and I followed, head ducked. Someone shoved me and I fell, slamming my wrist on the concrete floor. I rolled off it, holding it to my body and crying out in pain. Gwennie tried to help me up, but she was pushed away by security personnel clearing the room.
"Gwennie," I called.
A security guard saw me and helped me up. "Are you injured?" she asked.
"My wrist."
She called it in on her radio. "This is Unit 3. I have an injury at the incident." She paused and touched her ear to press her earbuds in more tightly. "Yes. That is correct. Yes, she fits that description. Yes. We can do that."
"My friend, Gwennie," I said.
"It's okay, Miss. She is fine. We will need to ..." The radio bleeped. I heard nothing but cacophony. "All right. Do you have assistance in the vehicle?"
The radio buzzed and crackled again.
"This way, please." The guard ushered me through the same big doors that set off the alarm. An emergency vehicle was parked on the sidewalk. EMT workers rushed over and helped me climb up into the back. They pushed me down on the gurney, strapped me in, and we started to drive.
"I just sprained my wrist," I said, protesting the entire time.
"It's okay. We will check your wrist on the way," a kind but brisk man said.
"Where are we going?"
"To the Estate," he said. "We will be there soon."
"Estate?" I felt totally disoriented. What did the Estate mean? Was I being kidnapped? My head started to hurt from the fall.
The EMT personnel checked me over thoroughly and wrapped my wrist. The vehicle slowed, and I heard the driver speaking to someone. We started driving again and then stopped.
"Here we are," the man said. "If you have a headache that doesn't go away, please let us know. Have someone from the Estate call in."
I had no idea what that meant.
He opened the doors, and a man in a suit reached out to help me down. I recognized him as part of Ben's security team.
"Hi, where am I?" I asked. "Why am I here? What is going on?"
"Hold on, Miss Jackson," he said.
I saw Ben striding up, no longer in his costume. "It's okay, Mitch, I got her."
"Ben, what is going on?"
"How's your arm? Come inside." He put an arm around me. I touched my aching head and started to cry.
"What the hell is going on?" I asked. I leaned against him.
"Fuck this," Ben said and lifted me up in a bridal carry.
"Ben, no. I feel sick."
"Easy, baby, easy," he said, continuing to carry me toward a huge mansion off a massive circular driveway. The wide double doors were flung open. He carried me up the stone steps and over the threshold. The foyer was massive with marble floors and a tall ceiling. A long winding staircase led up to a second-floor area. There were two wings on the ground floor, one off to each side, all richly furnished, all polished, subdued, quiet, like an old-time library.
Ben set me on my feet. He gazed into my face. "Are you all right, Rey?" He lifted my injured wrist. "Shit, that's my fault."
"I'm all right," I lied, a little shaky. I still felt sick and my head was pounding.
YOU ARE READING
Fame: Makes a Man Think Things Over
Fanfiction"I bet you, Ben Solo, that I could drive you to any neighborhood outside the city and you could walk up and down the street in a costume and not be recognized. I bet no one would know who the hell you are." He looked interested but skeptical. "I am...
