He took a seat next to Kyle and never took his eyes off of me for the rest of the night. Kyle stopped every girl that stepped up to Ryan and politely asked them to leave Mr. Christensen alone. Kyle also shooed away every girl that was brave enough to approach him as well. I had a new appreciation for my bodyguard. So did Ryan.
The next morning, Kyle arrived exactly as scheduled to drive me to the lawyer. He placed the box of evidence Ryan and I had gathered from our stalker in the trunk of the car before escorting me out of the pub safely. I felt his hand press in my lower back as he held the car door open for me.
His cologne was soft and masculine and wrapped my head in confusing thoughts. The paparazzi thoroughly loved the new image in their lenses.
Once I was finished meeting with our new lawyer, Kyle drove me back to the pub and escorted me into the building. The paparazzi were relentless with their aggravating questions, although I think it was apparent to them that Kyle was a bodyguard by the way he shielded me.
Kyle did a safety sweep of the pub, the bathrooms, and my apartment before leaving me alone for the afternoon. He would return before four o’clock when I opened to the public.
After Ryan came home and we had dinner together, I resumed my spot behind the bar. Ryan eventually came downstairs into the pub and sat next to Kyle. My bodyguard was excellent at keeping the unwanted women at bay. Finally Ryan was able to just hang out and drink a beer while watching sports on the big screen… just like a normal person. That still didn’t stop women from taking pictures of him with their camera phones.
Ryan was in mid sentence, telling me a funny story about what Kat did on set this morning, when I noticed a group of women walk into the bar.
One particular woman stood out – the one with kinky-curly hair and eyes like the devil.
“Oh my God, Ryan!” I gasped. “She just walked in! Run!” I ordered.
“Kyle! That’s her!” Ryan breathed out as he stood up; his haste caused his barstool to tip back and tangle in his legs. Ryan’s body stumbled backwards into mine. I caught him ineptly in my arms as his off-balance body weight pushed me back into the wall. We both looked on in terror as Angelica made her approach.
She was heading straight for Ryan and me; her eyes never left us. Her skin was sallow and the dark circles under her eyes made her look even more menacing in the dimmed pub lighting. She was on a mission and nothing was going to stop her.
Kyle moved so fast that it was hard to discern his actions. With one precise strike, he placed her in an arm and headlock; a split second later she was face down on the ground. With expert movements, he had her hands restrained behind her back.
“Ryan! Why are you doing this to me?” Angelica cried and screamed. “I love you!” she yelled. “That bitch has brainwashed you! I’m gonna kill her!” My fingers trembled as I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed 911.
Ryan was granted the morning off from filming on the day of the court hearing. He put on his suit jacket and I wore my nice dress pants and a cream colored sweater underneath my black suede coat. I knew we’d be photographed and filmed relentlessly. Ryan’s manager arranged to have a security team escort us in and out of the courthouse.
Ryan and I scurried into the large, black SUV that waited for us in the alleyway. Kyle and Mike, our bodyguards, shielded us as we climbed into the vehicle. Directly behind our car was another black SUV with additional security guards. Ryan’s Publicist, Marla, was already seated in the other car.
Reporters, photographers, and fans were lined up outside the courthouse when we arrived. People were shouting and screaming at our car. It was pure chaos.
“Once Team two is in place we will exit,” Mike informed from the front seat. He pushed his communication earpiece deeper into his ear.
I was sandwiched in the back seat between Ryan and Kyle. Despite how safe I should have felt sitting between these two men, I couldn’t stop myself from trembling.
Kyle sighed then patted and rubbed my forearm to reassure me.
Ryan glared at Kyle’s gesture. He gathered one of my shaking hands in his and raised it to his lips.
“It will be okay, Honey,” Ryan whispered, pulling me closer. “We’ll get through this.”
Reporters attempted to interview us as we exited the car. Ryan and I kept our attention focused on getting through the courthouse doors. Court officers and private security surrounded us as we entered the building. Mike and Kyle, minus their firearms, escorted us to courtroom number three.
Not only was Kyle protecting me, today he would also be a witness.
Ryan and I were seated at a large wooden table that faced the raised dark oak bench where the judge would sit. Our attorney was already seated; the box of scary evidence was setting on the floor next to him.
Cory and Marie were seated in the first row behind us. They too were witnesses to Angelica’s threats.
Sitting at the other table across from us was Angelica’s attorney. Our lawyer leaned over and informed us that she would be using the Public
Defender’s office to represent her case today.
One male and one female police officer escorted Angelica into the courtroom. She was wearing an orange colored prison outfit and her arms were handcuffed to a chain that wrapped around her waist. Her ankles were shackled. She didn’t look at us when she entered.
Angelica’s hair was all disheveled, sticking out in all directions. The circles under her eyes were deep and purple, making the starkness of her yellow skin even more pronounced.
“All rise!” the court clerk announced. “Court is now in session. The honorable Judge Brian Keller presiding.”
The court proceedings were long and tedious. Our attorney had to present each letter, picture, and package separately and one-by-one they were all entered in as evidence. I even provided a copy of the picture of Angelica grabbing Ryan’s arm when we went to Cal and Kelly’s. That picture of her attack was in every magazine and splattered all over the Internet news.
Our attorney informed us that he had to present every piece of evidence carefully so that Angelica’s actions would be deemed a credible threat to our safety.
Each one of our witnesses was called upon to testify that they indeed heard Angelica threaten to kill me.
Her public defender tried to cross-examine our witnesses, but it did her case no good to do so.
Our attorney played the 911 audio tape recording of my call to police the night she came into the pub. I shuddered, listening to my panicked voice begging for police to come immediately and Angelica’s rant in the background as she threatened to slice me into pieces. I choked into tears while the nightmare of that evening replayed in my thoughts. Ryan squeezed my hand tightly under the table.