Tracy

082:

         

082:

He hadn't expected Danny to come to the film festival and the screening of his picture, but Tracy, dressed in dark blue floor length silky shimmers had her little boy in a dark suit and black shoes, his red hair parted on the side and pulled back, most likely hair sprayed. It was like dressing for the Oscars. Richard gave her his arm and she pulled her tagalong with them easily.

They got out of the limo, not incognito, but as Tracy and Richard and Danny, amid curious stares and calls. They'd already been to the promotional interviews, where Richard had answered questions, dressed in jeans and a blouse. They'd watched the film in its semi-entirety sitting side by side, she as his date, and Danny as her date. She never went anywhere without her little guys, but she occasionally left Steven home with Monday.

Afterward, they ate dinner together, the questions and pictures getting more and more personal as the night wore on, and more people crowded around. The amount of non-industry onlookers in the direct vicinity had Richard on edge, as he escorted Tracy to the dance floor. There would be no repeat performance like the one at Ray's song release. Although he saw cameras trained on them for just such a purpose. When they danced, they all three danced together. He wondered if tomorrow's reports would name him as the father of her child? He glanced down, the form fitting dress barely revealing the slight swelling of her tummy. No, he thought, no one would guess she was expecting and everyone knew that Danny was Casey's son.

Still the questions about them flew. Eventually, Tracy explained to one reporter they both knew that she was married to Raine Maverick who was currently deployed in the gulf, and that Richard was just her date. The reason being that they were doing several films together. It seemed plausible enough. Fuel to the fire, Richard thought as he guided her back to their seats.

As they were exiting a few minutes later, the press of people waiting to get their coats was overwhelming. Richard held Danny, as Tracy moved up to accept her wrap and someone, nobody later thought they could identify any specific person in the crowd, dropped a burning cigarette into Tracy's bodice and hissed into her ear as he disappeared, "Burn in hell, Tracy, you killed Casey."

Not realizing the import of the cigarette that she didn't initially feel, Tracy gasped and whirled as fast as she could, trying to locate the owner of that dreaded and sinister voice. Heads retreated from her right and left when suddenly her attention was taken by the burning dress against her skin. The fire suddenly flared up in her face like a cloud, and Richard, thinking quickly, threw her silk shawl over her head and quickly squelched the flames. He wrapped her in his jacket, as Jake muscled his way to them, and one of the other bodyguards took Danny. Richard hurried her to an alcove away from the press.

"Oh. My. God!" Her voice was shaking in fear and anger. "He had to have been right there, right next to us!" The sleeves of her dress fell in tatters.

"Thank God your hair is up!" Richard said, making sure nothing else was burning, Her blistered lip was swelling right before his eyes. Black soot and blue dress fragments flecked her face.

"Get that son of a bitch!" Richard thundered as paramedics entered the lobby, and headed their way.

"It had to have been the same guy that blew up the car, and is vandalizing our homes... and----." Her voice was slurred as her eyes watered and stung. Richard kept her sheltered from prying eyes as Danny started screaming for his Momma. She reached for him, but her hands were shaking so hard, she could barely control them. Richard's eyes darted into the lobby searching for anyone out of the ordinary, but they were all out of the ordinary, and flashes were going off a mile a minute as an ambulance pulled up outside, sirens wailing.

She was holding the remains of her dress over her chest as best she could, and Richard's hands held the jacket closed as well. He looked back finally, into her face, the tear streaks leaving mascara lines running in rivulets. "Are you crying, or are your eyes watering?"

"My eyes are burning." She hissed, clutching her dress to her, when it finally smoldered to a frazzled halt and fell off her chest completely. Richard blew out his breath, looking down at her burned skin and exposed breasts, the lacy bra now singed, the edges of her skin, red and seared with blisters. Blue material stuck to raw scorched areas. Her eyes weren't all that were burning. The charred remains of the dress stuck on her hips. His hand against her back under the jacket was all that held the back of the dress from falling off completely.

Her eyes rose to meet his. "Who could have done this?"

His chin jerked in boiling rage. How could he not have seen the bastard? How had someone been able to get this close? He swallowed hard, wanting to keep his cool, and not cause a worse scene, as he glanced around at the people now crowded close, gaping, pointing, and asking stupid questions.

"Jake, take Danny back to the motel." Tracy stammered, biting her lips against the pain as it registered finally. The screaming receded as Danny was whisked away and the paramedics were ushered in. Venue management finally started clearing the place out.

Richard found it difficult to step back and allow the paramedics, who only spoke French to attend her. The hotel manager also came and was translating amid the confusion.

"Richard, stay with me." she slurred through the blistered lip, her eyes darting back and forth from the manager to the paramedics, her shaking fingers now buried in Richard's shirt front. Her eyes closed. "Oh, God, Richard, this really hurts."

"I'm gonna kill somebody." He whispered, not really wanting her to hear, but the words slipping out none the less. He was rigid with his anger. He kept himself in front of her to protect was left of her modesty, as the reporters who had been removed were still crowding the front doors and snapping way through the glass.

"I'm being stalked." She moaned softly, grasping and re-grasping his shirt. Her body sagged for just a second and then she straightened. He kept his arm around her back, not holding her against him, but sheltering.

"Yes. This time we're going to catch the creep." His breathing was labored. He watched as extra security people fanned out around the lobby. Somebody pulled her arm away from Richard, and she cringed, quivering away. He ascertained the cause and made room. "They need to start an IV."

"Richard?"

"They can administer something to help with the pain, honey. You're not thinking. Let them have your arm."

"What about ice?"

"Ice too."

"What about-- oh God, Richard, look at my skin. It really hurts!" She held the jacket open and they both gaped at the scorched skin between her breasts. Again that fury took hold of him and Richard felt the urge to hit the wall, or a person, or strangle something right now. He swallowed bile.

"You need to go to the hospital." He said with forced calm, as they brought in a stretcher. "I'll be right here with you."

"Breathe normally, Richard. You're scaring me."

He nodded succinctly, and then followed as they wheeled her outside. As soon as they hit the double doors the paparazzi came unglued and the noise was overwhelming. Flashing lights, blue and red, and the flashes of cameras met their riotous gazes.

"It's going to be okay, Tracy."

Her eyes pled with him out of the pain. "Nothing is okay, Richard."

*****