Page 225 of Gathered Sparkle

What the fuck?

Movement turns into bodies pressing forward, each person straining to get closer, to see more, to record everything. The circle we’d held around us suddenly feels suffocating and shrinks as the mass of people closes in.

My pulse spikes as I glance around, my heart pounding at the growing chaos. It’s not just tension anymore. It’s the kind of energy that can boil over in an instant.

“Ezra,” I mutter, keeping my voice low. “What’s going on?”

“The crowd’s pressing in too much. It’s getting tight.”

“No shit, Sherlock. What do we do?”

“Stay still. Try to keep them calm. I’m cutting through, but it’s a mess out here.”

“Friends!” Levi tries to talk over the chaos, his usual charm strained but still present. “I know this is a lot, so exciting, I get it, but how about we all take a nice step back? Give us a little breathing room, yeah?”

It doesn’t help. If anything, his words seem to make people more aware of just how close they’ve come, sparking nervous energy. The panic starts small, as murmurs of discomfort, and then it spreads—a spark catching dry kindling.

I shift my focus to the trio of frozen bastards—Foster, Blackwood, and Belmont. I wanted to keep them locked in place for the cops. It would’ve been cleaner and easier to let the authorities bag them like the trash they are. But as the crush of the crowd grows, surging closer, I realize there’s no way in hell I can guarantee that they won’t get pushed and trampled.

I want them in jail, not dead.

Fuck it.

If they flee, the police will have enough evidence in their hands to track them down. And I’m not about to waste time babysitting.

With quick strides, I walk past them as I press a finger to each forehead. “Wake up.”

Their eyes snap back into focus, confusion morphing into panic as they take in the chaos around them.

Good luck running now, assholes.

I turn on my heel, moving back toward Levi, who’s still trying to hold the crowd’s attention, though the strain in his voice is starting to crack. “Friends,please!”

“Ezra, move faster,” I hiss into the comms, my eyes darting over the sea of faces pressing closer as I step up to Levi, ready to pummel anyone who gets too close to him.

Veronica’s still shrieking, twisting in Nicholas’s grip, yelling for her security again.

One of the Heights security guards, who is built like a house, barrels through the throng, struggling against the press of people. His face is red, furious, and he’s shouting orders no one is listening to. Then, he pulls a gun.

The crack of the shot fired into the air is deafening.

The crowd scatters like a bomb went off—people start ducking, screaming, and shoving into each other.

I glance at Levi, who’s still holding it together as Pebble flutters anxiously on his arm. He strokes over her wings and murmurs, “Get out of here.”

Pebble takes off in a flurry of feathers, disappearing into the dark above us not a second too soon, as the chaos swallows us whole, bodies pressing in from every side.

“Fuck.” I grip Levi’s arm and pull his back to my chest. “Ezra, where the hell are you?”

“Hold on,” Ezra barks. “I’m pushing through. Just… shit, stay put!”

“Guys, you okay?” Nova asks anxiously.

Veronica screams again, trying to wrench free from Nicholas just as the guard finally breaks through to her. He doesn’t hesitate and clocks Nicholas hard across the face.

Fucking hell.

Nicholas staggers, letting go of her, and the guard grabs Veronica, shoving his way back into the throng with her. His shouts rise above the chaos as he presses forward, one armaround her and the hand with the gun raised above his head. “I have a gun! Move, or I’ll use it!”

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