19. Zach
ZACH
We sit in Nate’s car, in the parking lot opposite my apartment block.
I want him to hold me, but I don’t dare ask.
Every time someone walks or drives past and so much as glances our way, I tense.
I don’t want to live like this. Not able to hug the man I love.
Not able to kiss him. Not able to hold his hand.
Was I wrong to go back in the closet? Will being out really damage my chances in Hollywood?
“Are you ready?” Nate asks.
“No.” I unclip my seatbelt anyway. “Let’s get it over and done with.”
Skin clammy and heart pounding for all the wrong reasons, I get out of the car and wait for Nate to follow. He walks just behind me as I cross the street to my apartment block, looking and acting for all intents and purposes like a bodyguard.
A group of teenage girls intercept us.
“It is him,” one of them, a blonde with big blue glasses, whispers. “I told you it was.”
“Are you really Zach Taylor?” another asks. She has red hair.
“You were so good in Confessions of a Teenage Jock,” a brunette says dreamily.
“Can we get your autograph?” the blonde asks.
“And a selfie?” a girl with mousy hair asks.
Before my home was invaded, I’d have taken this sort of interaction in my stride. Now, my nerves are in overdrive. It’s not their fault. They’ve done nothing wrong.
I smile. “Sure. What do you want me to sign?”
“Oh,” the blonde says. “I don’t have anything.”
“Sign this.” The brunette whips a battered book out of her school bag.
“To Kill A Mockingbird?” I ask.
“We’re studying it in school.”
“Use this,” Nate says, handing me a notebook and pen.
“Thanks.”
He smiles, our gazes meet, and suddenly I’m ten times calmer.
While the girls gather around, I get their names and write each of them a quick, personalized message. Then we gather for a photo, which Nate takes on every one of their phones, making sure to position us so there’s nothing notable in the background.
“Thank you so much,” the blonde says. “I’m going to keep this forever.” She holds her autographed slip of paper to her chest.
Chatting loudly, the girls wander off, glancing back at us until they round the corner.
“You’re a natural,” Nate says proudly.
“I’m not sure about that. My heart was hammering the whole time.”
“You couldn’t tell.”
“You’re sure?”
He nods. “You made their day, Zach.”
I sigh. “I know.”
“It’ll get easier.”
“I hope so. Let’s go.”
We get to my apartment and, after taking a deep breath, I let us in.
The first thing that hits me is the smell of her perfume.
It’s lingered all this time. Which makes sense.
The windows have been shut. No one’s come in or out since Officer Vale escorted me to Halo House.
But, still, it’s suffocating. I want to run, but Nate is behind me, giving me the courage to stay put.
Everything is exactly how I left it. Or, rather, how she left. The trail of rose petals on the floor, leading to the bedroom, although they’re wilted and blackened now. The pots and pans she used that probably need throwing out. I don’t want to get close enough to see what’s growing on them.
Nate shuts the door and puts his strong, grounding hands on my shoulders. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I want to throw up.”
“Do you want me to wash up?”
I grimace and shake my head. “Throw it all away.”
He nods and moves to the cupboards to find a bin bag. He puts all the unwashed things into it, ties it off, and sets it by the door. “I’ll take it out when we leave.”
I stare around. I’ve spent so much time at Nate’s apartment that mine feels tiny.
Who am I kidding? It always felt tiny. But it had been mine.
Rented, obviously, but mine. Now it feels like it belongs to a stranger, and I know, beyond any doubt, I’m never going to live here again.
Nate’s right, I need to give up the lease.
I tug my phone out of my pocket and type an email to my landlord, giving him notice.
I show it to Nate, watching his face carefully as he reads.
“That’s perfect, sweet boy.”
I smile my thanks and send it.
“Is there anything you want to take?” he asks.
I shake my head, but then my stare falls on the TV unit.
I go over to it, crouch, and pull out my fan mail.
The ones not sent by her. My hands shake as I look through them.
Nate is right behind me, standing, offering me silent support.
Tears drip down my cheeks as I read the positive messages.
I have fans. I have people who want to see me do well, who want to see me in more movies.
I can’t leave them behind. I stand and put them on the table, ready to take with me.
I could leave now. I don’t need to go any further into my apartment.
I could ask Nate to come back later to pack up my things, especially my clothes.
But that would be cowardly. I don’t want to feel like a coward anymore.
I don’t want to feel like a victim. I clench my fists, take a breath, and head to the bathroom.
The sink and the mirror above it are directly opposite the door. I stop dead. ‘I love you, Chase’ has been written across the mirror in bright red lipstick. I turn, colliding with Nate, who wraps his arms around me, holding me tight. I cling to him, trying not to cry. I fail.
“Why?” I ask.
He strokes my hair and rocks me, like he’s done so many times.
“Why would anyone do this?”
“I don’t know, sweet boy.”
“I was happy here. And now… Now…”
“I know. But you’ll find somewhere else, and you’ll be even happier, I promise.”
“What if it happens again? What if some other crazed fan finds out where I live? What if they…?” I can’t bring myself to voice any of my fears.
“I won’t let them,” Nate says fiercely.
“You can’t be with me all the time, Daddy. You have a life, family, and a business to run.”
“A Close Protection business,” he reminds me. “I will keep you safe.”
“Da—”
He pushes me away far enough to put his finger over my lips. “I will keep you safe.”
I dip my chin. “Yes, Daddy.”
“The cops got everything they needed?”
I press my hand to my forehead. “Yeah. I think they took pictures and things. I don’t really know. I was a mess. They didn’t say I couldn’t touch or move things. They didn’t put tape up or anything. Honestly, I don’t think they thought it was that big of a deal.”
“Aaron thought it was enough of a deal to take you to Halo House.”
“Aaron? Oh, right. Officer Vale.”
Nate nods. He grabs a towel, wets it, and wipes the lipstick away. “Has anything else been disturbed in here?”
I glance around. “No, I don’t think so.”
He holds my hand. “Are you ready to look in your bedroom?”
My chin trembles. “No.”
“I’ll be with you, sweet boy. Daddy’s here.”
I throw myself into his arms, needing to be held. His firm, caring grip gives me courage.
Eventually, I push away and nod. “I’m ready now.”
He takes my hand again, letting me lead the way to my bedroom. Not that it’s hard to find. I put my hand on the doorknob, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. Nate rubs my lower back.
“I’m here,” he reminds me. “You’re safe.”
I’m safe.
I open my eyes, turn the knob, and open the door.
The blinds are down, the curtains closed.
I flick the light on, blinking at the sudden burst of bright light.
Decaying rose petals are scattered all over the floor and bed.
My underwear drawer is open and has obviously been rooted through.
My dildos have been unceremoniously dumped out of it.
Women’s underwear I’ve never seen before is laid out on the bed, alongside a pair of my underpants.
The photo of my family in the frame on my bedside table has been replaced by one of her.
And me. It’s a selfie. We’re both smiling.
“Oh, God.” I stifle a sob. Before I can run, Nate’s arms are around me.
I turn into him, pressing my face to his shoulder.
“I met her.” I probably signed an autograph for her, like I did for those girls earlier.
I let her take a selfie of us. I’m likely to have chatted to her for a few minutes. I feel sick.
“I’ve got you,” Nate promises. “You’re safe.”
I nod, even as I sob. It’s hard to breathe. I gulp for air. I tighten my grip on Nate’s shirt. My knees buckle. He doesn’t let me fall. He lowers me gently to the floor, holding me all the way.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper over and over. “I’m so sorry.”
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, baby. It’s all right. She’s not here. I am. I’ve got you. I’m not going to let you go.”
I have no idea how long he embraces me for. As long as it takes me to stop crying, and then longer still. Eventually, I relax in his arms, my energy spent. I’m raw.
“How could she?” I ask, anger replacing sorrow and shock. “How could she?”
I pull away from Nate, stagger to my feet, grab her lingerie, and fling it across the room.
It slaps against the wall and drops to the floor.
I tear the back off the photo frame and rip the photo of the two of us out, relieved to find the one of my family safely tucked behind it.
I drop the frame and rip the photo into two, then two again, and two again, before tossing the pieces aside.
They flutter onto the bed and carpet. I turn, hands clutching my hair, unsure what to do next.
Nate pulls me into his arms again. “It’s over, Zach.”
“Is it? She’s still wandering around. How can I relax knowing I might run into her again? They let her out, Daddy. They let her out on bail.”
“I know, sweet boy. I know.” He cups my face. “But I will keep you safe, and you never have to come back here again.”
“I shouldn’t have come back here at all.” I fall into his arms again. “What was the point? Why did I come here? Why?”
He holds me so tightly, I have no choice but to relax in his grip. “I think you needed to.”
I shake my head, but I know he’s right. Not to ‘reclaim the space’, as Patrick put it, but because deep down, I needed to know.
Now I know, I can process everything. Now I know, I can work on putting this whole, horrible affair behind me.
I can talk to Patrick about how violated I feel. I can talk, and I can heal.
“I wish none of this had ever happened,” I murmur. At the same time, I don’t wish that at all, because then I’d never have gone to Halo House. I’d never have met Nate.
“You’re going to be all right,” Nate tells me. “You’re going to be stronger because of this.”
“You really think so?”
He smiles. “I know so, sweet boy.”
“How?”
“Because you’re already stronger than when I met you. Because you’re tougher than you think, and because you’re willing to ask for help now. You’ll be fine.”
I take a deep breath and glance around the room again. “Will you come back before my lease runs out and pack everything up?”
“Of course. Whatever you need.”
I gesture toward my underwear and my scattered toys. “Please throw all that junk away.” It pains me to call my expensive sex toys junk, but there’s no way I can touch them ever again.
“I will. Why don’t you wait in the car, and I’ll get rid of them now?”
“Okay.”
He escorts me to the car and leaves me locked inside it.
I stare at the apartment as he carries two big bags out and takes them to the shared bins in the alley.
He goes back inside, probably to wash his hands, and then reappears, carrying the photo frame and pile of fan mail.
He locks up, putting what he’s carrying onto the back seat as he joins me in the car. I’ve never wanted to kiss him so badly.
“Where do you want to go now?” he asks.
I should say Halo House. For now, it’s my home. “Can we go back to yours, please, Daddy?”
He nods and, without another word, puts the car into drive. God, I love him. I want to be the man he deserves. A man who can make him happy, every minute of every day. I want to be someone I can look at in the mirror, without feeling scared or ashamed.