Chapter 24

twenty-four

. . .

Lulu

Round two had been just as good as round one.

And round three was even better.

This man had the stamina of a professional athlete and the erection of a porn star on Viagra.

But it was more than that.

A part of me wished this was just sex because it had been a long time since I’d enjoyed myself this way with a man.

But it was the conversation and the laughter.

The connection.

And now he was sitting on the floor in the bathroom while I was submerged in the deep soaker tub as we shared a glass of wine.

“Thanks for tonight,” I said, my voice quieter now as I handed him the glass back.

“That was all you. You were impressive as hell with the way you handled that guy,” he said, setting the glass down on the ledge beside the tub.

I never told anyone what happened the last time I saw Beckett. Not even Henley.

Sure, I was embarrassed that I allowed myself to be in a situation like that. And I didn’t press charges because I didn’t want my family pulled into it during an election year. And I hadn’t told my best friend because I knew she’d be devastated and want to talk about it, and I just didn’t want to do that.

Instead, I took action.

I signed up for self-defense classes and cut off every ounce of contact with Beckett on my end.

Rafe was watching me as if he knew what I was thinking about.

It was strange to me that I could feel so close to a person I hadn’t known my entire life.

I didn’t get close to people often. I kept my inner circle very small, and it was intentional.

I was social and friendly and outgoing, and I had a wide circle of acquaintances.

But deep connections—I could count on one hand the number of people that I truly trusted.

And somehow, this man, who’d stumbled into my life unexpectedly, had become one of them.

I couldn’t look at him and tell him. But I knew he wanted to know. And he deserved to hear it. He deserved my vulnerability because he’d shown up for me over and over again, and he had no ulterior motives to do so.

Rafe Chadwick was a really good man. And those didn’t come around often.

And I may not have been at a place in my life where I was open to finding a good man, but he’d found a place there anyway.

“Will you take a bath with me?” I asked.

“You want me to sit in warm, dirty water with you?” he smirked.

“It’s still hot, and I’ve bathed twice today, so it’s also very clean.”

As if he understood what I was asking, he stripped off his briefs and stepped into the tub behind me.

Not because he wanted to, but because he knew that I wanted him to.

I scooted forward, making room for his large body, and chuckled when the water flowed over the rim of the tub.

He reached for the glass of wine, and I took a sip before setting it back down beside me.

“I’m going to tell you something that I’ve never told anyone,” I said, no hesitation in my voice.

“I appreciate that you trust me enough to share it with me.”

“I do. And that’s saying a lot because I haven’t even told Henley. The only people that know are me and Beckett, and one of his bodyguards knows the short version.”

He was quiet, and his hands found mine beneath the water.

“A little over a year ago, I had long decided that my relationship with Beckett was over. I told you that he had been unfaithful, and the truth is, it didn’t even hurt because I had emotionally made peace with it. Our relationship had run its course. But he was caught in the press with other women, one being the woman who is now carrying his child, Anastasia. My family was angry because the press was painting me as a woman scorned, and it was an election year, so it was an embarrassment for my father.”

“It’s not like you have any control over that shit. Why is that your problem?” he asked, his fingers intertwined with mine now.

“Great question,” I chuckled. “But I was basically told to fix it. I spoke to Beckett on the phone and made it clear that I was done, but he continued to give interviews stating that we were together. He posted old photos of us on his social media, and that would start everything up again. I was traveling a ton, trying to get MSL into some big department stores, and consciously focusing on my business. But his drama was all over the news, which didn’t look good for me professionally.”

“That is absolute bullshit that he would continue posting photos of you when you weren’t together.”

“Listen, his band definitely blew up, but his whole persona has been painted as this bad boy , and dragging my name into it only added to the allure.” I cleared my throat. “I asked him to take the photos down, to stop talking about me publicly in interviews, per my father’s request, and he said he would do everything that I requested if we met in person one last time. I was in New York on business, and he was there for a week on his tour. I didn’t want to meet him at my hotel because Beckett can be a volatile guy, and after years of trying to help him get clean, I knew that addiction won. I didn’t even recognize who he was anymore. So, I didn’t tell him where I was staying. I agreed to come to the show and meet him beforehand. It seemed like a wise option because it was a public place, so what could he possibly do? That was my thought process.”

“He’d never laid a hand on you, had he?”

“Never. But he had these meltdowns. He’d shatter things and flip tables, that type of irrational behavior. That all started shortly before we ended things, but seeing it a few times was enough to make me cautious about being alone with him.”

“So you went to the show?”

“I went an hour before. I figured we could have a short discussion, hash out whatever it was that he felt he needed to say to me, and he’d have to go on stage, and I could sneak right out the back door. That was the plan.”

I sighed, and my head tipped back to rest on Rafe’s shoulder. His hand came up and stroked my forehead, brushing the loose strands that had fallen free from my scrunchie away from my face.

“It sounds like a good plan.” He nuzzled my neck as if he were trying to comfort me. “Tell me what happened.”

“He was waiting for me at the back door when I arrived. We went into his dressing room, and we talked.” I paused and took a sip of wine. I hated thinking back to that day. Not because it scared me, but because it pissed me off that I hadn’t been better prepared. That would never happen again. “I told him I was done and that I wanted to start dating other people. I told him he should do the same, and I asked him to stop posting about me. Stop talking about me in the press. Stop calling and texting incessantly.”

“Seems like a fair request for a breakup,” Rafe said.

“You would think so.” I let out a long breath. “He told me we weren’t done. He told me that his manager said that fans liked him in a relationship with me, and that his popularity was declining because I wasn’t present in his life. I reminded him that we weren’t together, so obviously, I wasn’t going to be present. I was done.

“He shoved the table over and smashed his beer bottle against the wall,” I said, shaking my head at the memory. “He’s such a child when he doesn’t get his way. So, I moved to my feet and told him I wasn’t going to continue a conversation with someone who behaved that way. I made my way to the door, and he grabbed my arm in a rage and spun me around.”

“What the fuck? He put his hands on you? Did he hurt you?”

“No, but he definitely startled me. I shoved him back and obviously told him to go fuck himself. He told me that we weren’t done, and I told him that it wasn’t up to him, and I would file a restraining order if he didn’t stop this madness.”

“Yes. That’s absolutely what you should have done. He doesn’t sound rational.”

“He reminded me that if I filed any sort of legal paperwork, it would be public record, and I’d bring more attention to my family. He was holding my arms pretty forcefully and just kept saying that we could work things out. I told him repeatedly that I didn’t want to. I was ready to start dating and focusing on my business so I could move forward with my life. His grip tightened, so I tried to shove him back. I kicked him in the shin because he was leaning all of his weight against me as I was pressed against the door, and then I tried to grab the handle to leave.”

“This fucking guy,” he hissed. “What did he do?”

“Well, that pissed him off. Obviously, he doesn’t like being told no. He grabbed my arm again and spun me around so quickly that I lost my footing. I remember falling and hitting my head on the console table near the door.”

“Jesus. Did you go all the way down? Did you split your head open?”

I nodded before taking his hand and moving it to my hairline to feel the little scar where I’d gotten several stitches.

“Yes. I was bleeding and a little wobbly as I tried to move to my feet. I thought he’d call for help, but he didn’t. He cursed and told me that I had made everything worse. And then when I stumbled to my feet, he grabbed my wrist, and before I knew what was happening, he shoved me into a closet. He locked the fucking door and left me in there.” My voice was shaking the slightest bit as I retold the story.

Rafe’s arms came around my center now, wrapping me up tight in a hug. “He locked you in the closet. I’ll fucking hurt that piece of shit, Lulu. I swear, if I’d known this, I’d have beat him senseless tonight.”

“I don’t need you to. I made sure that I’d know how to do that if he ever touched me again. That’s when I started taking self-defense classes. I have zero fear of him ever trying anything again.”

“I’d take pleasure in hurting him,” he said, his voice low and hard. “So what did you do? Did you have a phone?”

My hands came over his, and he laced his fingers through mine.

“Well, I had my phone in my pocket, but there was no reception. He’s a complete psychopath and turned the music on extra loud when he left the room. I screamed for the first half an hour before I realized no one was going to hear me. No one was coming. They were probably all watching the show. My voice was loud, but not over the blaring music. It was pitch black in the closet and creepy as hell, and I knew my head was throbbing and bleeding pretty badly, so I was trying to keep my wits about me.”

“This is fucking outrageous.” His voice was angry, yet not loud.

“I was in that closet for over an hour. I tried kicking the door open, but it didn’t work because the space was so tight, I couldn’t take a step back to put any force behind it.” I remembered the feeling of panic that he’d forget I was in there in his drugged-up state and end up going out partying after the concert and leaving me there. “I turned on my flashlight and immediately saw all the blood on my hands, which freaked me out, and I knew I needed to get to a hospital. I guess my survival skills kicked in. I had a bobby pin in my hair, and I took it out and spent a good thirty minutes trying to move the lock on the door. It finally worked, and I didn’t know where to go. I had my car parked in back, but I was afraid I couldn’t drive with my head hurting so badly.”

“What did you do?” His voice was eerily calm, but I could feel his anger as I lay with my back to his chest.

“When I came out of the room and ran toward the back door, I bumped into his head of security at the time, Carlos. He’s no longer with Beckett. He just took my hand and hurried me out the back door. I told him I didn’t think I could drive, and he said he’d drive me in my car to the hospital. He never asked for the details; he just asked me if Beckett had been responsible, and I said that he had. He stayed with me at the hospital and then drove me in my rental car back to the hotel after. I asked him not to speak to anyone about it, and he said he would never tell a soul, but he was never going back to work for that asshole again. We’ve kept in touch over the last year. He went on to work for an actress and is much happier now.”

“I’m glad he was there to help you. So what happened at the hospital and after?”

“I got seven stitches in my head, and I never told a soul. Henley was finishing up law school, and I knew she’d freak out and want to come make sure that I was okay. And after being shoved into a closet and feeling helpless, I didn’t want to feel that way again. I didn’t want anyone to help me. I wanted to spend my energy figuring out how to help myself if that ever happened again. I started training with Coach Jones so I would be capable of protecting myself moving forward. I never spoke to Beckett again. I blocked him and ended all communication. But he’s shown up a few times when I’ve been out publicly. This last time was over the holidays at a restaurant in front of my entire family. I think he thought he could pull me back into his disaster of a life. Tonight felt different. Like he saw us together, and he believed it.”

“I think he saw your strength and was intimidated by it,” Rafe said, hugging me tighter. “I’m so fucking impressed by you. My fierce, strong Wildcat. I knew it the first time I met you.”

“That I had a mean right hook?” I chuckled.

“Nope.” He barked out a laugh. “I mean obviously, I felt that hit to my throat. But I could tell you were someone who didn’t take any shit. Someone who could take care of herself.”

“Thank you,” I said, looking down at my pruned fingers. “Should we get out?”

“Yeah.” He pushed to his feet, taking me with him. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist before wrapping one around me and then drying off every inch of my skin.

I smiled down at him when he bent down to dry my feet. “You know I can do that myself, right?”

“I don’t doubt that for a second. I just want to do it for you.” He winked and then stunned me when he scooped me up like a baby and carried me to the bed, setting me down so my head was resting on a pillow. “Thank you for telling me what happened. Thank you for trusting me with it. I promise you, your words are safe with me.”

“I believe you,” I said as I sat up when he started to step back. “Hey, do you want to sleep in here tonight?”

“Really? Isn’t that breaking your rules?”

“I think I broke several tonight, like when I had sex with you in the dance studio and then told you my deepest secret while sitting naked in a bathtub with you. This is hardly one to be concerned about.” My teeth sank into my bottom lip. “Unless you prefer sleeping alone?”

He leaned closer, resting his forehead against mine. “I hate sleeping down the hall. It’s a really dumb rule.”

I laughed and flicked him on the shoulder.

Even though I couldn’t agree more.

Sleeping apart was a really dumb rule.

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