tabloid junkie (Michael Jackson)

April 1ˢᵗ ─ 9:17 ᵖᵐ

And the countdown began again.

My heart pounded in my chest.

"5."

I peered around the table leg and saw Michael, he was in pain, I could tell, and I sighed. Knowing I needed to do this.

"4-"

I stood instantly, brushing my dress down. "I'm here, just please, don't hurt him."

The man's eyes behind the ski-mask lit up, he shoved Michael on a chair and pointed the huge gun at his chest. "Get over here, girlie."

I slowly trudged toward the captivators.

"Diana, don't." I heard Michael say but I ignored him and approached the man with the gun, I needed him to get that damn gun off of Michael.

The mask-wearing man latching his hand hard on my forearm, the gun slipping away from Michael's chest. I sighed of relief and then of fear when he pulled me off to the middle of the floor.

"Glo, bring the bag." He said to the shorter masked one.

Glo?

"Gloria?" I breathed. "Is that you?"

I was squeezed tighter on my arm. "Shut up, Diana." The man said.

And I was finally, finally able to tell who the voice was, I remember the angry expression he had when he saw Michael and the knowing look in his eyes.

He said my name like he knew me.

Who else?

I took in a breath.

.............

"Richard?"