Chapter 42
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Jess
M inutes later, Jude and I were pounding up the stairs to the Saint Security building, ready for a full briefing. Cookie’s rushed explanation—that they had reason to believe the producer Jenna mentioned was preying on the young women of Silverton under the guise of casting a new movie and something bad was going down tonight—hadn’t connected many of the dots other than we needed to move asap.
I let myself get swept up in the moment because my mind needed the distraction from… everything. Everything Jude had just laid at my feet.
In effect, he’d laid himself out and said, “I wanted you to take me,” and here I was, focusing on work because my bone-marrow-deep fear was that I couldn’t do it. I wanted to, I’d talked myself into it, almost, before I’d gotten there, but then he’d said so many beautiful, heartfelt, real things, and I’d…
I kept hearing the past tense. He’d said, “ I felt, I felt, I felt… ” and though he’d said those insane things about my name on his lips when he died, it was all enclosed in a past tense parenthesis. A bone deep fear had hit when he’d said we’d changed. We had changed… but what if he’d changed for me? What if he didn’t want this, not really, and I was doing it again? What if it was happening again and I was forcing an idea of the future on someone new? He’d said he wanted what I wanted, that it was a yes to everything I wanted. And I couldn’t have this. Not again.
So I’d gone back to what I always did. I got mad at him for… what? For not telling me he was in love with me? Like he could’ve done that without me thinking he was a liar or rejecting him? What could I possibly have expected, and yet I hadn’t said it back. I couldn’t have summoned those words in that moment, even though my heart felt like it was bleeding love for him even now, as scared as I was.
And then Cookie had interrupted, and for now… for now, that had to be it. Because this was one place I didn’t doubt myself, and I needed my feet on this solid ground. I needed to clear my head, and I knew of nothing better than a boots-on-the-ground work crisis to bring me the clarity my mind so very much lacked and craved.
We didn’t know details yet, and we needed them. Had they alerted the local PD? Sometimes, we got information we could act on and then nudge their way, but sometimes we dove in headfirst and dealt with the fallout. Since Bruce schmoozed with the Chief as often as he could and we’d only ever helped with cases they had, they tended to appreciate us.
In my gut, I knew Kurt was involved. He’d been on the producer’s security team, so he had to know something was up. But… how much? And was he a part of it, or only on the periphery?
In the briefing room, Tristan was stone-faced, and Kenny was pacing.
“Finally! Damn, were y’all naked or something?” Kenny said, no real heat in his voice.
“Glad you made it,” Tristan said, completely ignoring Kenny’s nonsense and diving right in. “Cara Darling is in the conference room and she’s with Wilder and her stepdad. Between her statements and what Jenna has mentioned to Cookie, we’re fairly certain we need to intervene tonight. Can’t wait on the locals.”
So they wouldn’t wait for the police. Good in some ways, bad in others.
Just then, Julian Grenier ushered his stepdaughter into the room. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her oversized sweatshirt was pulled down over her hands like it could shield her from the outside world.
Wilder nodded at me and Jude, then said in the gentlest voice he possessed, “Can you tell the team what you told me?”
Cara nodded and tucked her long hair behind her ears. “I was with some friends who wanted to go to a party at a house up the canyon. There was a rumor Jack McKean and some other celebrities were going to go, so everyone was freaking out.” She rolled her eyes, then shook her head like she hated the memory. “But then we got there, and it was actually some kind of audition or something? And we got in the house and I saw some people I recognized.”
Her eyes flicked up to mine, then over to Jude’s, then down to her hands. “I saw someone come out of a room and she looked so upset, so I went to check on her and she just freaked out. Wouldn’t talk to me, and just kept saying, ‘he said he’ll make it worth it,’ or something.” Her gaze found Julian’s. “That’s when I called you. I just had this sick feeling, and then I saw the same security guard that’d been with the producer and—” She crushed her lips together, eyes glassy.
Julian pulled her into his arms and hugged her. She clung to him as he said, “You did the right thing. I’m sorry this happened.” Then his silvery eyes rose to find Wilder’s, and with a voice hard as steel, he said, “We’ll take care of it.”
“I’m so sorry.”
The whispered words came from the doorway where Jenna Halter now stood, a hand pressed over her mouth and eyes full of pain. Cookie moved to her, and she let him tuck an arm around her and usher her inside. But Jenna’s eyes didn’t waver from Cara, who turned to face her.
“I’m so sorry. I should’ve spoken up sooner. I should’ve told someone.” Jenna reached for Cara’s hand. “I’m so sorry.”
Cara launched herself at Jenna and hugged her, talking rapidly as she squeezed her. “I’m sorry you ever had to deal with him. I hate him.”
They separated and Jenna turned to the rest of us. “Anthony Pollusk is most likely sexually harassing these girls, or setting up opportunities to do so. I know this because he harassed me a few years ago right before I got my break and he said he’d ruin me if I told anyone. At the time, I believed him, but obviously, the fear of anything happening has stuck around—even to the point where I have still interacted with him.” She exhaled and looked ill, like the memory of her interactions brought on nausea.
“You’re speaking up now, and this gives us more than enough to know we need to get there,” Wilder said, then turned to Luc. “Let’s get there.”
In a matter of minutes, Jude and I were driving in a Saint Security truck outfitted with all kinds of gear our personal vehicles didn’t have. We’d spoken only in clipped, professional phrases, both sensing we wouldn’t have a chance to return to the major subject of our conversation at his house until after this op. Maybe by then—whenever it was—I’d know how to figure out where we both stood in this relationship, how much of ourselves was in there and how much was compromise we thought the other wanted or even needed.
The goal tonight? Stop this Hollywood producer jerk from hurting anyone else, and clear the girls out of there.
“How deep in do you think Kurt is?” I asked, giving voice to the dread that’d been building steadily since we’d opened the door to Cookie.
“I don’t know, but I have a bad feeling maybe all the way.” His jaw flexed and his eyes stayed forward.
“We can handle it,” he said, right as I said, “Of course we can handle it. We’ll just—” I stopped, huffed and smiled at the way we’d both said it.
“We will,” he confirmed. No lightness in his eyes, but maybe something there—not regret for what he’d said, and not even anger with me from how I’d reacted.
I exhaled, banishing the nerves and the sick feeling that seeped into my gut and nodded. “We will. That jerk’s not going to hurt anyone else, and neither is Kurt.”
We weren’t certain what we’d find, but from what Cara filled in for us, it sounded like the party was under the guise of casting extras and some main parts for an upcoming project. By the time she left, the crowd was thinning and it sounded like maybe the situation was becoming even more concerning.
We’d alerted the police after Jenna confirmed her experience with the man, and they were on the way. They’d be on hand to take statements if anyone wanted to press charges, assuming our fears were legitimate, and the awful realities we’d seen in our years in the military meant that even the shine of Hollywood and the glamour of this film fest couldn’t make us believe they weren’t.
Cookie and Wilder pulled over on the road at the base of a long driveway. Most homes in Silverton were within the city limits, but there were a few larger places on the outskirts, and this was one. It was isolated, and frankly, the perfect place to take advantage of someone if you could get them there.
We moved up the driveway with purpose, swift-footed and eyes wide, spotting the security guard loitering at the front door instantly.
“We’re here as part of the cooperative agreement between Saint Security and Blackthorne. Let us in quietly.” Wilder’s tone brooked no arguments, and since he and Bruce had spoken to the whole Blackthorne crew before the film fest kicked off, the man likely recognized him.
“Oh, sure. Is this some kind of op we weren’t briefed on?” the guy asked, though we moved inside without responding, first Wilder, then Cookie, then me, and Jude brought up the rear.
Inside and down an oddly dark entryway, we came to a recessed living room where several girls lay on low, off-white modern couches over matching carpet and were clearly under the influence of a substance based on their glazed eyes and the heavy way their heads hung. Cookie moved to the one nearest him right away, Wilder to another .
“Hey, can you talk to me? What’s your name?” Cookie said, his voice gentle and filled with concern.
The girl reached a hand out and nearly swatted his face. “Oh my crap, you’re so hot like a model or like a hot guy or something. Are you in the movie, too?”
He spoke to her again while Wilder radioed to our HQ telling them to dispatch an ambulance.
The large living room had four possible hallways leading away from it. I turned to Jude, about to debate it, when he notched his chin toward the one to his left, the only one with a light on.
We moved together, leaving Wilder and Cookie to deal with the girls. Maybe they were the only ones left, but knowing more than likely there were more people in the house who might need help, the urgency pressed in on us.
Several rooms stood open—an office with floor to ceiling bookcases, a piano room with a baby grand, and then the hallway turned and led to an open area with a small love seat and a man seated there with his eyes on his phone until he heard the quiet shuffle of our feet over carpet and looked up.
Kurt.
He stood instantly, a smirk on his smug face.
“Well, look who it is. How can I help you this fine evening?” He tucked his phone away and hooked a thumb into one of the gromets on his flack vest.
My body had leveled into what we called war calm. Adrenaline cranked through you but with the right training, you could funnel it into a steady hand rather than a shaky one, a practiced posture instead of noodle knees. “We’re here to check on someone. Step aside and we’ll have a look and be gone. ”
One cocky brow raised. “Yeah? Bummer. I can’t let you do that.”
“Yeah, you can,” I said, not surprised he wasn’t going to let us by, but also supremely annoyed that in theory this guy was supposed to be a good person. Not that I had any illusion he was anymore, but at least he shouldn’t be engaged in protecting an actual criminal.
Jude stood to my left and a step back. I could practically feel the fury rolling off him. Evidently, he hadn’t locked down all those pesky feelings like I had.
“Nah. Don’t think I will,” Kurt said, then shrugged a shoulder like he thought all of this was cute.
Jude’s voice came low and as close to a growl as could be and still be intelligible. “Move.”
The smug expression melted from Kurt’s face, and for maybe the first time, I saw every bit of ugliness he’d hidden from me when his lip turned up in a sneer.
“You want to get past me, Beast , you’re gonna have to make me.”
I wouldn’t have believed it years ago, but now that I’d accepted the truth about this man, it didn’t shock me when he pulled his gun and aimed it at Jude.
In seconds, too many things flashed through my mind as Jude took a giant step in front of me and raised his hands. No, you idiot! He was protecting me, even when he was already the target. Maybe Kurt really would shoot us both, but now this big, lovely, beautiful man was literally shielding me with his giant body and I loved him for it.
No, I loved him, full stop.
He’d told me time and again how he felt, but today, he’d laid it out plainly. My fear of rejection and being left had twisted such a beautiful moment into something to be questioned, but here he was, loving me with his actions like he had so many other times before, even when I didn’t realize it.
And Jude telling me yes to whatever I wanted? It wasn’t him changing for me or humoring me. It was him giving me space. Space to come to him. Space to find my own footing in whatever I wanted us to be because he had already committed to this us , all the way.
The pressure and adrenaline of seeing his life threatened distilled every frantic emotion into a clarity like I’ve never known, and even more, a certainty.
I loved Jude Rawlins. I believed him. And I wasn’t about to let a damn thing happen to him on my watch.
The certitude I was good at what I did infusing in me when I left the Saint office? It flowed through me now, highlighting another part of me that knew it loved this man, that I needed to take the chance on him because he’d already shown me he’d fight for me. That’s what he’d been doing ever since we reconnected in his cabin.
When Kurt’s weapon stayed trained on Jude despite my shouts to put it down, that’s when I got mad. And for once, my anger, my rage, it wasn’t directed at Beast. It would find its rightful target now.