Chapter 27
The four of us chat for hours, with me sharing a lot of what I had been through with Sean—things I’ve never told anyone because I was embarrassed. For so long, I portrayed that everything was fine, that we were the perfect couple, that I snagged a rockstar with a storied past and a playboy image.
But behind closed doors, it was all falling apart. I had lost myself, and I had let him do that, but it’s not something that happens overnight.
It’s slow and unnoticeable, which is scary as hell. There will be people who question why I didn’t leave earlier, why I stayed and let it all happen. The truth is, I don’t know why I stayed. I don’t remember being happy for a long time—at least not the kind of happy I am here with Kai.
Maybe I stayed because I was scared, afraid to leave, afraid of what he might do, and just a few hours ago is proof that he’s capable of things people shouldn’t have to deal with.
I have full trust in Kai, Miles and Daisy as I unload on them, and it was even more reassuring listening to Daisy talk about the toxic relationship she left recently.
She talked openly and honestly about it all, and Miles was nothing but supportive.
It helps to find people who have dealt with the same thing—almost like I needed to know I wasn’t alone.
Because at times, it feels like that, especially when all my friends slowly disappeared. Even Isla got sick of it.
But during all of this, Miles told me what it was like to be on tour with Sean and all the shitty things he saw firsthand: the drug use, the cheating, the abuse.
He even admits it was probably one of the reasons the band fell apart. None of them could handle the lifestyle—something I completely understand.
I hated the one time I went with Sean. All the excess and the fame became too much, and as someone who isn’t used to it, it’s hard to cope.
“Going on tour with an already established band, one that is massive around the world, takes a special kind of person,” Miles had said.
“None of us were it. We wanted to make music and wanted people to love our music. Sean was there to take advantage of every woman he met—not to mention, treat us like shit.”
It wasn’t just women, though. All those NDAs that were signed by his staff and crew, ex-girlfriends, and really anyone he came in contact with.
He works hard to silence anyone that could take away the life he’s built.
As Miles talks, I get curious, asking if he had been asked to sign an NDA. I can’t imagine Sean’s tour company wouldn’t have had this in the agreement Miles and his bandmates signed.
“We signed a lot of shit, but that wasn’t one of them.”
Kai and I pull into my driveway, and I’m exhausted, mentally and physically. Sharing everything felt freeing, but it also felt like it took everything in me.
The remnants of Sean’s rage are still lying out in front of the house, and as soon as I see them, I’m angry.
How did I let it get to this point?
The intimidation, the need to buy my memories, his obsessive need to control everything—all of it comes down to him and what he wants. It was always what he wanted, and while I know it won’t matter, it’s now about what I want.
My eyes are focused on the broken chair, the splintered wood, the pieces scattered around. My phone is also somewhere in that mess. I left it because there was no point in seeing if it still worked.
“I’ll clean that up,” Kai says sweetly, his fingers touching my cheek, bringing me back to him.
“No.”
Tilting his head to the side, he looks at me, sympathy shining in his eyes, and I can feel the tears welling up in mine.
“Come here,” he murmurs, hooking his hand around the back of my neck, guiding me to him. “Babe, you don’t have to hide anything from me. Cry, yell, break something. I don’t fucking care because there has never been a time in my life when I wanted to kick the shit out of someone like I did him.”
Climbing over the console of the car, I straddle his hips, my arms wrapped around his neck, burying my face in him as I sob.
Hard, but silent, I let the tears fall again, getting everything out—not just the words, but the tears I’ve continued to hold back. Never being allowed to express my feelings and being constantly ridiculed when I did has taken a toll on me.
I’ve hidden my feelings, controlled how I responded to everything, never letting my real and raw emotions show. But I’m done with that as I cry in Kai’s arms. His mouth is next to my ear. Soft, calming shushes leave his lips, and with each ragged breath I take, I hold him tighter.
Time passes slowly, and I want to fall asleep in his arms. The comfort of his body is everything I’ve ever wanted but was never able to find.
Coming to Hawaii was the best decision I’ve made because I not only met Kai, but I’ve also made some amazing friends who have helped me see that love isn’t conditional.
“Do you want to grab some things and stay at my place?” Kai now asks, his words a hushed whisper of kindness and love.
I take in what he’s said, trying to decide if I want to be run out of my own house by a guy who has ruined my life already.
“I want to stay here, but will you stay with me?”
“Of course.”
We exit the car, walking toward the house, Kai’s fingers woven through mine. He stops when he gets to the mess Sean made.
Releasing my hand, he bends down to begin cleaning up, but I stop him.
“Hold on,” I say, hearing the anger and hatred in my tone. “Can I borrow your phone?”
Since mine was destroyed, I want to document this, remind myself what I left and how I never want to go back. Not that I’ve even considered it for a second, but this could help my case of not signing the NDA.
“Sure,” he says, handing it to me, but the passcode pops up, and I hand it back to him. “It needs your face or your code.”
“Code’s your birthday, Quinn,” he states as if this is the most normal thing in the world. “I changed it after we met so I didn’t forget it.”
“What?”
“Code’s your birthday,” he repeats, as if I didn’t hear him the first time. Not only am I floored by the fact that he changed the code to my birthday, but that he gave me the code in the first place.
He looks at me, a completely relaxed look on his face, his arm extended, the phone in his hand. He motions for me to take it but lets out a huff before entering his code and handing it back to me.
It takes him a second to catch up to what’s happening between us right now, and I see the change in his face.
His brow furrows, and then I see the anger flare in his eyes.
I bite my bottom lip and raise my brows, letting out a sigh.
He has no idea how often this is going to come, how many triggers I have over the littlest things, and all I can hope is that he doesn’t get sick of dealing with the trauma someone else inflicted on me.
This isn’t Kai’s fault, but he’s constantly here, helping me through it, and while I am so grateful, I also have deep fears about being left.
“Quinn, I have nothing to hide from you. Go through my phone,” he says, but it isn’t that.
I don’t want to go through his phone. I trust him completely, knowing he’s never hidden anything from me. His honesty is what drew me to him in the first place.
“I know that dick did a lot of shit to you, but I never will. Everything that is mine is yours, Quinn, including my heart.”
What the fuck?
This guy is one in a million and somehow, flying across the country and over an ocean, I found him.
“The moment I saw you on that beach, my life changed. I couldn’t not meet you, make you mine and treat you the way you deserve to be treated. That asshole has no idea what he’s missing, no idea how amazing you are, but he’s never going to find out because you’re mine.”
I listen to his speech, my eyes once again welling with tears, but he’s built a confidence in me, in us, that I needed so badly.
He reaches for me, pulling me into his arms, his lips colliding with mine. The way he touches me, the heat of his body, the way he whispers my name against my lips—it all makes me weak, and the line between lust and love begins to blur.
I feel the contact of his body everywhere, and when he pulls back, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck, his fingers tracing tiny circles, I’m tired of letting Sean control everything.
With Kai, I’m safe—safe to do what I’m about to do.
And that is, poke the bear.
“I want him out of my life,” I hiss, angry that my past and my present are bleeding together. I want it all to go away so I can live my happily ever after here on Maui.
“I know you do,” Kai replies soothingly.
Taking Kai’s phone, I begin to take pictures: the broken chair, the shattered phone, the tire marks from where he drove up onto the grass, too reckless to care about anything but himself.
With Kai following behind me, I head up the stairs to the house, grabbing pictures of where Sean punched the side of the house, his bloody knuckles leaving marks everywhere they touched.
“Do you mind if I text these to my lawyer?” I ask Kai, that heavy feeling of anger beginning to leave me.
My emotions have been a mess for so long—one minute holding back tears, to sobbing over the littlest things, to being so angry I can feel it everywhere.
I hate it.
I want this divorce over.
I want Sean out of my life forever.
“Yeah, no worries,” Kai replies as we walk into the house, and I find her number.
Typing out a message that I hope finally gets my point across. I’m not signing the NDA, and these pictures are proof of his volatile and intimidating behavior.
Me: I’m not signing the NDA. Conversation over. Please see the attached pictures.
Nancy: Understood. I will let Sean’s team know, but until things are finalized, please lay low.
I let out a condescending laugh, turning the phone so Kai can see her response. Rolling my eyes, I can’t even believe I hired this woman to so-called defend me. I get that she’s being paid by Sean, but still.
“She’s a piece of work. Lay low? What the fuck does she think you’ve been doing? Fuck, that pisses me off.” I can hear the frustration and anger in his voice, and I totally know how he feels.
It’s been my life since I moved here: constantly trying to avoid drama, but I’m over it.
Fuck that.
“Do you mind if I log in to my Instagram?” I ask Kai, not having been on social media since I arrived here. I’ve been avoiding it since I know it’s going to be filled with shit about Sean and me. Mostly about Sean, but enough about me that I don’t want to see it.
“Go for it.”
As soon as I do, the notification number is out of control, but I don’t bother to look. That’s not what I’m on here for.
I’m about to blow things up, and I can’t wait.
Clicking on my profile, which has always been set to private for my own peace of mind, I make it public. It’s a risk, but I’m willing to take it, knowing I won’t bother looking at what happens once I make this post.
I haven’t signed that NDA, but there will be no point after this. Sean’s world is about to be totally fucked even more than it already is.
Changing my username from Quinn Bateman to Quinn English, and then I tag Sean and the band in my bio, adding the hashtags: gaslighter, abuse, manipulation and divorce.
And then I upload the pictures of the splintered and broken chair, my shattered phone, the bloody knuckle prints on the lime green wooden siding, the ruined grass with the deep tire marks.
The caption is simple and to the point.
This is what happens when you won’t sign an NDA.
Again, tagging Sean, the band, each bandmate separately, Sean’s manager and several of Sean’s ex-girlfriends that I know were forced to sign.
I’ll be their voice when they can no longer.
He doesn’t get to silence me.