Page 53 of Accepted Precedent
We make our way back downstairs and leave his house. On the drive, I send Andrew and Kristin my location and let them know we’ll be participating in the counter-protest. Neither reply to me, but I’m not concerned—Mickey will keep me safe. Just in case, I send my location to Ileah as well. With Jaclyn on her honeymoon, I don’t bother filling her in. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around what happened yesterday. Why would Alex step in for his brother? They are on opposite sides of the aisle and at each other’s throats most of the time. What does he have to gain?
I’m pulled from my thoughts as we arrive. The street is blocked off, and Mickey’s driver does a lap, dropping us a few blocks away. The sedan behind us has his security detail—which is completely unnecessary—and they get out first. His driver tells us he’ll be close by if we need to leave, then Mickey takes my hand and leads me over to the crowd.
There’s a swarm of police presence keeping the peace between two groups yelling and chanting. His security is hot on our heels, but dressed down in jeans and hoodies. I’m tempted to ask if they’re wearing similar shirts to Mickey and me, but I’dbe disappointed if they’re only wearing plain tees. I’m just glad they’ll blend into the crowd. The last thing Mickey and I need is to draw any attention to ourselves.
This is unlike any other protest I’ve been to. On one side, there are men protesting with signs insisting women shouldn’t have a right to choose. There are only maybe five or six women in the crowd of nearly three hundred flooding the street. On the other side of the police, there’s a group double the size carrying signs supporting bodily autonomy. I recognize a few women with bullhorns as the organizers for pro-choice non-profits in the area. We keep our distance, not wanting to be recognized, though I highly doubt anyone would think it’s me with my bandana on. Also, Mick has never worn jeans once in the years I’ve known him—no one would guess it’s him.
We blend into the crowd, and Mickey lifts his sign higher that reads:Healthcare is a right, joining in with the call and response.
“What do we want?”
“Choice!”
“When do we want it?”
“Always!”
It’s loud and powerful, and I’m so grateful Mick suggested we participate today. He doesn’t let go of my hand, squeezing tighter any time someone gets within a few feet of me, even with none of them being a threat. For the first time since I married Andrew, I’m doing more with my life than hosting dinner fundraisers or baking. The realization is both depressing and exhilarating.
My phone in my back pocket vibrates, and Mickey finally releases my hand so I can retrieve it. There are a few missed texts from Kristin and Andrew. They are about to attend their meeting but promise they’ll check in with me and Mickey once they’re done.
There’s screaming, and I swear I hear someone yell, “Gun!” I quickly pocket my phone. We’re far enough from the front lines that I can’t see what’s happening on the other side. Mickey pulls me to him and shouts, “We need to get out of here!”
“Why? What’s happening?”
“The arseholes are targeting the organizers.”
Gunshots echo off the buildings, and in an instant I’m surrounded by Mickey’s security team. They usher us away before I have a chance to react. Once we’re away from the majority of the crowd, I ask again, “What’s happening?”
“The protesters on the other side began shooting at the police and at the organizers,” one of them replies. With his face covering, I can’t tell if it’s Paul or Shawn. “We need to get you and Mr. Gallagher to a safe location.”
I try to pull away, but they block me. “No, we need to help!”
“Not a chance, angel,” Mick growls.
“Fine, if you won’t let me go, send in people to protect them.”
“Already did. I have a team in the area who were on stand-by in case things got out of hand.”
I breathe a sigh of relief, but someone could’ve been seriously injured. We weren’t even here for twenty minutes before it escalated. Mick was right—the men on the other side aren’tjust cunts with signs. I’m used to extremist religious groups protesting women’s healthcare, but this is something else entirely.
His detail ushers us back a few blocks, and we meet up with Mickey’s driver. I slide into the back seat, and once Mick is beside me, he pulls down his bandana and does the same to me. He takes my face in his hands and crashes his lips into mine in a desperate kiss.
“Mick, slow down! It’s okay. We’re okay.”
“No, it’s not,” he growls, finally pulling back. “If anything happened to you…”
“We’re safe.”
Mickey removes his hat and rakes a hand through his hair. “I was reckless. I never should’ve suggested this.”
“Are you kidding me? Yes, it was dangerous, but this is the first time in years I’ve felt like… myself.”
“What if you were shot, Evie?” he snaps. “A bulletproof vest doesn’t protect you from a bullet to the forehead.”
“You can’t keep me locked in an ivory tower.”
“I know,” Mick sighs, gripping my chin with his thumb and forefinger. He brings my lips to his, and thankfully it’s no longer his anguished kisses.
