tabloid junkie (Michael Jackson)

May 7ᵗʰ ─ 7:40 ᵖᵐ

"Yes, me." I shoved past him, hopping on my crutches until I was sitting on his couch. "Diana Cartwright." I sighed.

James rubbed his face. "What the hell are you doing here? No, let me rephrase that--how are you even alive?"

"I have my resources." I pulled my cellphone from my pocket and dialed in three numbers 9-1-1. "Now, you're going to listen to everything I say, or I'm calling the cops."

He breathed out slowly. "Diana, what makes you think I can't kill you right now?" 

"Because I'm not here for that." I sighed, blowing blonde hair from my face. "I want to know why you did it, why you're doing this." 

 James was a tall nightmare, I knew I was risking my life, I knew he could strangle me or stab me to death at any moment and never be caught. But I didn't care anymore, I didn't want to exist if I couldn't actually live my life. 

 "It all comes from the boss."

"The boss?" I hid the fact that my head was searing with pain, the coffee hadn't done much justice for my continous headaches. 

 "She's very tenacious." He admitted, a deep look in his eyes. "You can't disobey."

I was full-blown confused. Everything was changing. "You mean...there's a woman who wants me dead?"

"If she wanted you dead, you'd be dead."

I grinned, laughing a bit. "Well, if she wanted me alive, why'd she try to have me killed in that hotel explosion?"

            "Because it wasn't her that put the hit out on you." He admitted, the words just falling from his lips. "It was Richard, and that is why he is dead now." 

 I blinked. "Rich--he's dead?" 

"Yep. Anything else?" 

I felt like holes were finally being filled. "Where's Gloria? Is she okay?"

"Gloria's in hiding. She doesn't--she never wanted to be apart of this, none of us have." 

"Who is your boss, James? That's all I want to know." 

 James eyes widened, as if he were about to do something unsanitary. "I can't tell you, Diana."

"Tell me." I hissed. "She'll never know."

"Fine." He sighed loudly. "It's y--" He broke off with a sickening cough. 

"James?" 

His bottom lip was lined with blood, and it dribbled onto the carpet. 

"James, what's going on? What happened?" I screamed, struggling to my feet. 

James crashed into the table, his eyes shutting instantly. I saw what looked like a bullethole in his chest, blood was gushing out.

"Oh my god!" I rushed to door, struggling to twist the knob, I finally got it. Slipping out into the hall, I went as fast as I could on my crutches.