Chapter 31 – Cain #2
“So, nothing happened with the model?”
“Nah, man. She was pretty as sin. Thought I might have had a chance to sleep with her. But the bitch ended up getting sick, so I left her at the restaurant and bounced.”
“Sick?”
“Yeah, you know what I’m saying.”
All the blood instantly rushes from my head. I squeeze the phone so tightly I hear a crack. “No. I don’t.”
He laughs which quickly turns into a rough cough. “She was so fucking nervous. I just dropped her a little something to get her to loosen up. Then she went to the bathroom and never came out, so I dipped. Went to a party. Never saw her again. Don’t worry, nothing happened.”
Fear turns to rage. I grip the phone tighter, my voice low but laced with fury.
“Rebel. What the hell did you drop in her drink?”
Sleep-deprived and running on fumes, I suddenly feel electrified, as if someone hooked me up to an IV of pure adrenaline. My vision blurs with red-hot rage. I could fly straight to whatever overpriced hotel room Rebel is holed up in and kill him if he hurt her.
“You know what I did,” Rebel snaps, his tone dripping with arrogance. “These women are loose and willing. I just gave her a little something to take the edge off before we were supposed to go to a party. I would have hired her, but she couldn’t hang.”
The breath punches from my lungs. The urge to destroy something—to destroy him—is overwhelming.
Rhiannon had been nervous about meeting with him, and he’d drugged her to get her to calm down. Rhiannon met with him for a job. Because she’s trying to take care of her family who depend on her, and he took advantage of her by trying to control her.
My name is etched on the door of this office, and that’s the only thing that’s keeping me tethered to reality. Because if Rebel were here right now, I’d wipe the smug look off his face permanently and land myself in prison.
Instead, I bite out, “Don’t bother calling us your attorneys anymore.” My voice is ice. “I’ll let Dave know that he needs to find new representation.”
I slam my thumb on the hang-up button before he can spit out another excuse or try to justify his vile behavior.
He’s done. Finished. I’ll tell Rhiannon to file charges, and I’ll be the one representing her. We’ll get the footage from the restaurant, and his name will be smeared cross headlines. Our law firm works closely with a PR firm in the building, and I’ll call in a favor to have his career ruined.
Men like him don’t care about physical threats, but he’ll feel my wrath the only way that matters to him. By destroying his career.
The anger that’s bubbling inside me needs an outlet but first I need to call Rhiannon and be sure she’s okay.
I dial her number, but it goes straight to voicemail like she’s turned it off. My hand instinctively grabs the coffee mug that’s perched on my desk, and before I can stop myself, I hurl it against the far wall. The ceramic explodes into shards, scattering across the floor.
“Fuck!” I roar.
An award for being the winningest entertainment lawyer under thirty years old from five years ago shakes atop my desk, teetering on the edge almost toppling off and shattering to the floor.
I fucking wish it would.
What’s the point of all this anymore? The clients we’ve taken on aren’t usually this wicked, but damn if Rebel hasn’t just pushed my already frayed nerves and sheer exhaustion to new heights.
My outburst must have echoed outside my office because it only takes twenty seconds before I hear the door to my sister Rosie’s office beside mine open and close.
Her footsteps are light but purposeful, and a soft knock follows before my door swings open.
She slips inside and drops into the chair across from me, her brows knit together in concern.
“What happened?”
I exhale shakily, running a hand down my face. “Rhiannon Carpenter happened.”
“Who?” she asks, frowning. “Wait… the model from Rebel XOXO’s shoot last week and the woman that you booked a sex therapy session with?”
I nod, my head still in my hands. The weight of the past few weeks feels unbearable.
I should have stopped her from meeting with him.
I should have gone with her. I should have told my dad to handle the case in Los Angeles himself or sent one of the junior lawyers.
I should have done absolutely anything different from what I did.
I know it’s irrational to blame myself for Rebel’s actions, but I am.
What’s happening right now? Is this what… love feels like? An urge to protect her at all costs. To take care of her. To give her everything that I have. Money, prestige, and power no longer matter to me. All I want is her and I still don’t know if she wants me back.
I want to date her crazy ass. I want to make love to her. I want to marry her someday. Kids, a house in Brookhaven, her family becoming mine, dinners with Leo, Chris and Rosie. I want it fucking all with her.
“She met up with Rebel to discuss his new clothing brand,” I manage, my voice hoarse. “Guess he had something else in mind. He drugged her when she wasn’t paying attention.”
Rosie’s gasp fills the room. “No. No way.”
I nod again, guilt and fury clawing at my chest. Shame because I let her go. Guilt because I didn’t stop her. And anger—at Rebel, at myself for ever agreeing to represent him. I’m pissed that I put work before her. Frustrated by the whole damn situation.
“Is she okay?” Rosie’s voice is tentative, worried.
I shrug, my head still hanging between my hands.
“I have no idea. She didn’t answer my call but she texted me late last night and so I know she made it home. Rebel claims he ditched her when she went to the bathroom.”
Rosie sits back in silence, processing.
“I dropped him as a client,” I say flatly.
Rosie’s eyes widen, and she draws in a sharp breath. “Dad’s going to be pissed.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
And for the first time in my life, I don’t care about my dad’s opinion. Don’t care about him telling me I’m going soft. Don’t care if he cares that I just fired a paying client who doesn’t usually give us much trouble.
Rosie nods and I can see that she understands. At least I’ll have one Prescott on my side when he finds out. Not that it matters anymore.
“So, what are you going to do?”
“I’ve taken care of Rebel. I need to talk to Rhiannon about pressing charges.”
“No... what are you going to do about your feelings for her?”
Head in my hands, I weigh my options. I could drive out to Brookhaven like I’d planned, show up uninvited, and hope she doesn’t shut the door in my face or tell me again that she isn’t in a place to date right now.
I could keep calling, keep leaving messages she might never return.
Or… I could do the one thing I’ve been avoiding all along. I could make a grand gesture. Be completely honest. Completely, terrifyingly honest about my fears, desires and hopes for us.
Not just tell her that I like her or that I want to give this a real shot but tell her everything.
That she means more to me than I ever planned for. That I want to be the one she turns to when things fall apart, the one she trusts to help her put them back together. I want to be the steady place she can land, the reason she breathes easier.
I want to be the person who makes her smile again.
The reason she finally takes a day off, finally feels safe enough to rest. I want to protect her; give her the softer life she’s been too damn strong to ask for.
I want her to feel safe to tell me the truth about why she’s working so hard to avoid her feelings for me.
Because the truth is, she’s been the only light in what’s otherwise been a dark, messy year for me.
Because I’m completely gone for her.
Because I’m in love with her.