Perfectly Scripted (2 page)

For a moment, I thought about calling Mom to ask her to pack another bag for me. I didn’t feel right adding more to her busy schedule though. She’d insisted that, during my recovery, I stay with her in Malibu. Perry agreed, so I hadn’t been able to say no. Mom; Sofia, her housekeeper; and Constance, my mother’s best friend, all cleaned up the mess at my house in Los Angeles. I was glad I didn’t have to go back to face the carnage. From what I understood, my place was on its way to being redecorated and refurnished. All thanks to Mom and my stepfather, Perry.

I sent a text to let her know she could find me over at my house. She immediately responded, saying she’d meet me there after her meeting. Then another message came through. She was worried that I wasn’t mentally prepared to go back.

Fuck. I didn’t know what my reaction would be. It was
my
house. A house couldn’t be scary, right?

An hour later, I parked the car in my garage, turned the security system off, and walked into my kitchen for the first time in what felt like forever. Upon entering, I was hit immediately with the smell of fresh paint. I looked around, hardly recognizing anything, as it seemed nothing from my former home existed. Everything was white, including the new quartz countertops and padded chairs at the breakfast bar. My appliances were bright and shiny, the tags from the vendors still attached. Even the wine rack and dishes had been replaced.

This was an extreme home makeover, even for my mother.

My heart stopped as I stood in the dining room, and my eyes drifted to the living room. Not even new carpet, furniture, and drapes could shut out the dark and ugly memories from that day. I closed my eyes, but that only conjured images of Derek hitting me and the others ripping my clothes from my body. To escape the horrible visions, I bolted up the stairs to my bedroom, where I frantically gathered some personal items. After shoving clean clothes into my suitcase, along with my camera, my sketch pad, and my jewelry box, I retrieved my facial mask from the bathroom.

More time
. I just needed more time to heal myself, and then everything would go back to normal.

At the sound of my back door opening, I shouted, “Hey, Mom! I’m in my bedroom!”

As I was zipping my makeup bag, a familiar voice drifted through the air that was not my mother’s.

“Hello, Holli,” he said coolly.

In hopes it was a hallucination caused by the medication, I quickly spun around. My worst fears were confirmed. There, in the doorway of my bedroom, stood Derek, tall and powerful in a navy tailored suit. As he slinked towards me, ice skated through my body, freezing all of my muscles.

Unable to move an inch, I was trapped between his towering frame and my bed. I stared at him for a long time. All the caring feelings I’d once had for him were suppressed, and emotions—ones I couldn’t name—were reeling to the surface.

“We need to talk, sweetheart,” he said, his tone calm and even.

Sweetheart? Is he fucking serious?

He swept me up in his embrace, crushing me to his chest. I inhaled the faint smell of tobacco and musky cologne. Then I tried speaking, but nothing came out. His arms wrapped around me like heavy chains. Numbness settled in my limbs. My emotions were pulled under a wave of distress, leaving me without enough oxygen or strength to reach the surface. After a few moments, something in me snapped and I let out a scream, causing him to release me from his weighted hold.

“Do you feel better?” he asked, crossing to stand near my dresser.

Without a second thought, I sprinted out of the room. Everything was a blur as I ran, but I was too slow. Before I reached the stairs, he grabbed me.

He picked me up, carrying me back down the hallway. I pounded my fists on his chest, begging him to let me go. After he’d tossed me back on the bed, I winced at the pain in my ribs.

“Derek, what the fuck are you doing here? Did you come to finish the job you started?” I scoffed.

“No, I’m not here to hurt you. I came to apologize,” he replied, taking a seat on the bed.

“You think an apology will fix it, huh? ‘Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It will never happen again.’ And then what, Derek? I’d magically forgive you for nearly killing me and allowing your sick buddies to…” Tears grew thick in my throat. “No, thanks, asshole.” I clenched my jaw. “I don’t care to live my life as an abused woman. Now”—I paused while inching up off the bed—“get the fuck out of my house! I am two seconds away from calling the cops.”

He stalked towards me. “You’re not calling the cops, Holli Grace, because
you
are too smart for that.” His dark gaze swept over me as he traced the curve of my jaw with this finger.

My heart rate picked up— and not the way it used to when Derek would touch or look at me. There was no rush of excitement; no, something different was bubbling inside me. As waves of sickness crept up from my gut, my legs gave out. I stumbled backwards, landing on the bed once again.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I think so,” I replied, placing a hand on my forehead. “My meds make me feel woozy. Or maybe it’s just the illness of being around
you
.” I glared at him.

“Holli, come back to me, please. I promise you this will never happen again.”

Derek was fucking delusional. Or insane. His black eyes bored into me. Yeah, he was easily both.

“Derek!
You
fucking did this to me!”

He turned away, which angered me even more. Adrenaline kicked in as I tramped towards him.

“Look at me!” I screamed, pointing to my face. “You beat the shit out of me! Look at my face. Look at my body! You are savage, not to mention a fucking criminal. I broke up with you, and this is what you did to me. Do you really think I’d ever come back to you? You
raped
me, Derek! Need I remind you that you also let your friends terrorize me? And you fucking destroyed my house!”

Tears flowed down my cheeks as I yelled the last words. Throbbing pain flashed behind my eyes, and the roaring of my blood pounded in my ears. My emotions went for a ride on a carousel. Venom flowed through my veins. Doubt sucker-punched my soul, and misery took hold of my heart.

“And you’ll never touch me again—
ever
.” I sobbed. “You should be in fucking prison!”

He tramped towards me, grabbing my throat. “Take it back,” he snarled.

My hands flew to his arms, trying to pry his grip from my neck. “No. You’re exactly…the man your…enemies say you are,” I managed through strained breaths.

When he released his hold on me, I stood tall, rooted to my spot. Derek placed both hands on his hips, watching me. A momentary ceasefire settled between us, but the quiet was deafening and uncomfortable.

“You’re a cold, shrewd, soulless bastard,” I spat.

His eyes narrowed and shot to the right, as if he had to think about the meaning of the words.

“What’s the matter? Can’t handle the truth?”

In one swift motion, he hurled me to the floor. My head bounced off the carpet, and blackness and stars flashed behind my eyes. Then he knelt down, his body looming over mine. Certain he was going to kill me, I said a silent prayer, stiffening my body for the onslaught of pain.

“Listen to me carefully, Holli,” he said, his long fingers digging into my chin. “The moment you got into bed with me for business,
I acquired you
. You became an asset, an investment. The moment you shared my bed with me for pleasure, I
owned
you.”

I laughed. “You don’t own me. And I’m certainly not bound to you or your business by contract or otherwise.”

He leaned closer to me, his face etched with anger. “If you think you can walk away from me and everything I’ve given you, then, sweetheart, you are sadly mistaken. I warn you. Having Derek Saunders as an enemy is not a particularly wise choice.”

“Whatever you do won’t matter,” I snapped. “Do your worst. Oh wait. You already did. What happened before will
never
happen again. My memory is suddenly remembering who attacked me. I think the police would be interested in
that
information.”

He stood. “If you so much as mention my name to anyone about this incident or cry rape, I’ll come back here and, yes, I
will
finish the job.”

First, he’d wanted me to come back to him. Now, he’d threatened to kill me. Every fiber of my being coiled and shrank.

Derek jerked me to my feet. Once I’d gained my balance, his glaring, dark eyes met mine. Wrapping my arms around my body like a shield, I looked away from him. I desperately wanted to run away and hide from his frightening intensity. But then he gripped my hair, twisting my neck back so that I was facing him and his ferocious glare.

“And, sweetheart, I know plenty of places in Death Valley to bury a body. Trust me when I say no one would
ever
find you.”

As he smoothed my hair behind my ear, a shiver curled around my entire body. Taking a step back, he straightened his jacket and his cuffs. Relief washed over me as he headed for the door. And with that, Derek Saunders slithered out of my house, leaving me standing alone, under his chilling words, which hung in the air much like the dark clouds outside.

To make sure he was gone, I watched him climb into his black Range Rover and drive off. After running to the security pad on the wall downstairs, I punched in my alarm code. I was safe— for now.

I pulled my phone from my pocket. With shaky fingers, I managed to find my sister’s name and hit send.

In one brief but detailed phone call, I told her about my secret life with Derek and the not-so-wonderful things I had done for him and his business. And through sobbing words, I divulged the full story about my attack. Needless to say, Charlotte’s voice seethed with anger and shock at my admission, but she never judged my decisions.

“That’s it. I’ve heard enough. I want you here in New York, far away from that cruel, demonic bastard,” she bit out. “There’s a job waiting for you at my company. Promise me you’ll get the fuck out of Malibu and come here.” Her voice was filled with concern. “Do you hear me, Holliday?”

As I stared out the window, the clouds dissipated and a stream of sunshine poured over my skin. Swallowing the lingering tears, I finally managed to stop crying.

“Okay, Char. I’ll move to Manhattan. I promise.” I ended the call and took a long look around my bedroom. Then I unlocked the balcony door and stepped out onto the cool stone tile.

The breeze whipped through my hair. I breathed deeply, inhaling the familiar scent of sunshine. Memories of hiking in the canyons, late nights out in posh downtown restaurants, and Sunday afternoons at the beach all flooded my brain. Salty ocean spray, tangy citrus from my neighbor’s orange trees, and eau de car exhaust all pricked my senses. I savored it all, wanting this to be the lasting reminder of my California home.

But, sadly, it was not.

Holliday

Gazing out at the crashing waves, I stood, soaking up the heated rays of the golden afternoon sun washing over my no-longer-pale skin. The hot sand squished between my toes. I dug them deeper into the grains as the warm, tropical breeze whirled my hair around my face.

Glancing to my left, I drank in the sight of my handsome movie star boyfriend, Ronan Connolly, as he lay stretched out atop a long, white chaise lounge in our private luxury cabana. Seeing him wearing only his dark Ray-Bans and a pair of graphic-print shorts that perfectly hugged his strong thighs had me sexually amped up. The sunlight reflected off each and every ripple of his toned abs, now warmly bronzed from the sun. Ronan’s curly, deep-brown locks were slightly sun kissed at the edges and hung loosely around his temples, still soaked from the dip he’d taken in the beautiful, cool water of the Sea of Cortez.

He is so handsome.

Catching my stare, he asked, “Enjoying the view, my beauty?”

“Yes. I’m admiring the most gorgeous attraction on this beach,” I hummed, inching closer to him.

“I disagree.
I’m
the one looking at the most beautiful sight on this beach.”