Every Breath You Take [RDJ Fanfic] - COMPLETED

One Hundred Thirty Two

"Rachel, move, now!"

It's an instruction, and something Devin calls from the back, but I'm frozen, confused. 

It may be the commotion, the sudden shift from calm and lighthearted fan excitement to chaos and scattering people, but even Paul's pulling is not phasing me.  That and above the yelling people, there's an obvious gunshot splitting the air, and the girl in front of the table who was just telling me about her bravery is searching wildly around for her parents.

"Mom!" she yells, unable to locate them on the other side of the stampede the crowd has become.

I don't know how serious a 'code silver' is, and in the back of my head, I'm making a mental note of learning all the security lingo, because I'm sure Robert knows it.  Fuck, Robert...  Devin has my phone, right?

"Ms Thomas, I have to move you, now," Paul states strictly, using my last name, which he hasn't done since Robert and I got engaged out of my own instruction.

But the girl calls for her dad next and despite my better judgement, I pull away from him and cross the table to shield her from any danger.  No one I can see seems to be a worried parent; everyone's more or less running from the imminent danger - whoever's shot a weapon off twice from what I've heard so far...and then a third time as someone near us screams out.

"Okay," I talk over the noise, mostly to myself, no to the girl in my arms behind me.  "All right, come with us, okay?  We'll find your parents outside," I instruct, then blindly spin her and myself around to run back to the curtain behind Paul and Devin.

Paul's got his own weapon drawn in defensive mode, just in case, but he doesn't flinch when there's another shot in the air.  The girl whimpers and scampers behind the curtain, taking Devin's hand.  My idiot self tries to run around the table after her, but I slip and fall on the floor, and when I push myself up, I glance at my hand, coated in red, sticky liquid, which I'm going to pretend isn't blood.

"Are you good?!" Paul asks urgently when I get moving again, noting the same shit on my hands and probably my clothes.

I nod, not wasting air as I feel like this is a workout and I wasn't prepared to run today in these heels.  "Not mine."

At least, I think it's not?

It's a huge blur to me how we get outdoors, my heart racing and my own breath in my ears more than anything.  What the hell is happening?!  Is the girl okay?  Where's Devin?  But eventually we reach the last door of the venue and Paul shifts an arm around me to guide me out under his watch, after making a commitment to keep me safe to Robert, both personally and professionally.

"You do too much," I breathe when we reach daylight and a mob of people, police, and ambulances riding into the back lot.

"It's in my job description."

"Not...crazy shit like this," I gasp, Paul finally releasing me so I can stand on my own as he searches the safe zone for venue security.

Then I hear his radio go off again.  "Suspect down, please be on standby until further notice.  Remain on high alert."

"What the fuck is going on?!" I yelp, freaking the fuck out internally.

"It's fine.  Calling a car," he informs me.  "Stay by me."

"Where's Devin?!" I panic.  "Paul, I need Devin.  Where the fuck is my team?!"

He pulls out his phone to text someone, then looks back up, wildly searching for security that can put priority on guests. He does a spin, still wielding a weapon at his hip, and eventually lands back at me, trying to calm me down.