Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Her skin was still damp from her shower when someone knocked on her door. A quick glance at her phone told her twenty minutes had passed. Jordan was nothing if not on time.
Even though she was expecting another cold, detached interaction that wouldn’t last more than five minutes if she was lucky, her damn heart still fluttered in anticipation of seeing him.
But when she opened the door, her blood ran cold. “What are you doing here?” Her mouth dried up around the words.
Kurt Robertson, the popular producer from her television show back in Vancouver, smiled at her, as casual as he’d been when she’d first met him three years ago. So much had changed between then and now, she sometimes felt like she was a decade older.
“Not happy to see me, cupcake?”
The nickname twisted her stomach. “Don’t call me that.” She looked beyond him, into the empty hallway. “How’d you get up here?”
He let out a soft chuckle. “Oh come on, darlin’, don’t be like that. It’s been a while and our last meeting wasn’t—” He flicked his wrist in the air a few times. “Wasn’t what it should’ve been.”
He was referring to when Joel had come to Vancouver, bombarded the set where she was filming and rescued her from the man standing in front of her.
Joel had done it for Lucy, of course. He would move heaven and earth to make Vanessa’s sister happy, and Lucy had sensed things weren’t okay in Vancouver.
But not even Joel could’ve anticipated what he’d walked in on.
“I’ve missed you, cupcake.” His slimy gaze roamed over her, and she realized belatedly all she had on was her robe. “You look good.”
“You should go.” She hated how he instantly made her feel small and worthless. How she ever thought he’d been the most incredible thing to enter her life was beyond her now. He’d only made her life miserable.
When she tried to close the door, Kurt shot his hand out, stopping it from shutting. “We have unfinished business.”
Don’t let him in. Don’t let him in.
Her mind raced, panic clawing at her chest as she went through her options. Her phone was in her bedroom, too far. He could easily overpower her. She was alone. But Jordan would be here soon. He was never late. But what if he was?
On instinct, she motioned for him to move as she slipped out of her apartment, closing the door behind her and leaving them together in the hallway.
Kurt tracked her movement, watching the door click shut. “Well, that isn’t any way to treat the person who took your career to the next level.” His voice dropped the temperature in the hall. “I thought you’d at least invite me in for a drink.”
He reached toward her cheek, but she recoiled before he could touch her. He stilled, giving her a strange, searching look, before letting his hand fall to his side. “For old times’ sake.”
Her stomach pitched. Memories of what he’d done, what she’d let him do to her, flooded her mind.
“You ruined me.” The burn of tears stung, but she refused to let another single one fall for this man.
Red crept up his neck, flooding his face in an instant. A switch she knew too well, the rage that came without a warning.
“You ruined yourself, whore,” he spat in her face as he leaned forward, pinning her against the wall. He wasn’t much taller than her, but he was heavier, broader. “And you took everyone with you.”
Her hands trembled as she squeezed them between their bodies and shoved. Kurt stumbled back slightly before regaining his footing, eyes wide.
“I owe you nothing.” Bile rose in her throat as a thought entered her mind. “Does your wife know you’re here?”
He charged her then. Once again, he pinned her against the wall, but this time his hand seized her throat, and his sweaty face pressed to her cheek. “She threw me out,” he hissed. “Because you sent her your little video.”
Her breath was trapped in her lungs, suffocating her as a cold sweat crawled over her skin. Her heart jackhammered against her ribs. A paralyzing dread flooded her nervous system like ice fire.
The video. The video. He must have been lying. It had to be a lie.
“I d-didn’t,” she stammered, the words sticking in her throat under the pressure of his hand. She clawed at his wrist, trying to loosen his grip, but her fingers were tingly and useless. His grip didn’t budge, and gray clouded her peripheral vision.
“You did.” His hot, vile breath hit her icy skin, as she struggled against his hold. “But you wanted it that way, didn’t you, you little tease? Wanted her to leave me so we could be together.”
Words were lost in a sea of disgust and horror. Her whole body trembled with the frantic need to flee, but her legs wouldn’t obey.
Kurt loosened his grip, offering her a sliver of space, of air.
“I’ll admit, you could’ve gone about it a different way.
That video wasn’t even meant for me, was it?
But Kacey thought it was, and fuck was she pissed when she thought some tight little piece made a nude video for me.
” His eyes took on a dangerous gleam. “But it worked. You got what you wanted. She threw me out, called her lawyers.”
Vanessa started to sink to the floor, but Kurt caught her around the waist.
“It’s okay,” he cooed. “It’s okay. I can forgive you. I’m allowed to be mad, but I’ll get over it. It’s probably for the best. People will love seeing us together. A power couple. After you’re done with this ridiculous fashion show, we’ll take on the world.”
“The photos, the flowers—” saliva pooled in the sides of her mouth.
“Yes, there will be more photos, lots, all over the internet, exactly how you like it. You’ll be showered with flowers.”
Through the buzz in her brain, a hint of warning rose. Nothing he said made sense, and yet all she could imagine was his wife watching the video of her. The video that would haunt Vanessa forever, no matter what she did. No matter what anyone did.
Kurt’s body pressed against hers, holding her against the wall. “Come on, beautiful, you made a mess, but we’ll clean it up together.”
“No.” Her stomach knotted painfully, and for a second she thought she’d vomit all over his chest. “No no no. Was it you the whole time? Did you take the picture outside?”
Kurt’s eyebrows knit, confusion flickering across his face. But she didn’t want to hear his excuses. She shoved him as hard as she could, her insides clenching as she fumbled for the doorknob behind her, panic overwhelming her. She was going to be sick.
Before she could wrench open the door, Kurt yanked her away, throwing her to the floor.
“Always so fucking difficult,” he snarled.
Through the tears blurring her vision, she saw him lunge for her…and roar thundered through the hall, followed by a sharp crack. The space around her opened, and on instinct she crawled toward the door.
But then, she saw him. Jordan. So tall, so strong. Bigger than Kurt in every way. He mercilessly pounded the producer, who lay sprawled on the floor. A loud crunch filled the hallway as he struck Kurt’s nose. Kurt’s groans of pain mixed with the haze of adrenaline buzzing in her ears.
When Kurt went limp, she called out, “Stop!”
She couldn’t tell if she was shouting or whispering, but she knew if Jordan didn’t stop, he’d end up in jail again or worse. Kurt would never let him get away with this.
“Jordan, stop.”
His eyes were black with blind rage.
She stumbled to his side and grabbed his arm. “Stop, please. He’ll die, and you’ll—”
He couldn’t ruin his life for her. It wasn’t worth it. She wasn’t worth it. Her stomach heaved. She spun toward her apartment, ripped open the door, and raced inside to the kitchen sink, where she heaved all the vile disgust inside her.