33. Grace
33
GRACE
“ I can’t believe today is the day,” I say to Theo.
“You’ve worked so hard on all of this; I’m glad that you chose to celebrate in this way.”
“Nothing is better than combining a celebration with fundraising,” I smile as I wink back at him.
“I know you’re a model by profession, but you were made for the sales life,” he chuckles.
“The way you’ve gotten people to empty their pockets is astounding.
I know it’s a good cause, but you have a gift, my love.”
“It’s easy when you’re passionate about something as well as authentic. I don’t go in trying to sell; I just speak from the heart with no bullshit.”
“That is the ticket,” he laughs again.
“Everything looks amazing,” I sigh as Theo and I walk into the Gala for the Hope Center.
The warm glow of the chandelier reflects off the champagne flutes scattered across the tables, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses blending into the hum of the gala.
My heart swells as I take in the sight of so many people gathered here, supporting the shelter. It’s surreal to think about how far we’ve come.
Because of the security and privacy needed for the shelter, we chose to hold the grand opening as a fundraising event in a hotel ballroom.
It was really the best option to keep those who’ve trusted us safe from their abusers.
It’s the first time we’ve been back in the United States in months, and so far, it’s been very laid back and easygoing.
Theo’s hand rests on the small of my back, steadying me as I smile at yet another donor.
“Time to be passionate some more,” he breathes in my ear.
I grin back at him. His presence grounds me. I’ve spoken to countless people tonight, sharing the shelter’s mission and listening to their stories of why they chose to give.
The energy in the room is electric, and I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude.
Devon and Sarah, Rand Davis, and my and Theo’s staff are here. It’s a whole affair while also being the who’s who of Hollywood. So many celebrities have shown up tonight to support us.
It’s all so overwhelming and extraordinary.
“You’re doing amazing,” Theo murmurs in my ear later. “Everyone here is captivated by you.”
I glance up at him, my smile softening. “It’s not about me. It’s about them—the women who need this place. But thank you.”
He leans in, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Still proud of you.”
Before I can respond, a caterer approaches, her expression apologetic. “Miss Simmons? We’re having a bit of a situation with the meal. Could you come to the kitchen for a moment?”
“Of course,” I say immediately, stepping away from Theo. “I’ll be right back.”
His eyes narrow slightly, his hand brushing mine as I move away. “Be quick. And stay where it’s busy.”
I nod, offering him a reassuring smile before following the caterer. The hallway leading to the kitchen is quieter, the noise from the gala fading into the distance.
The caterer glances over her shoulder, her steps hurried.
“What seems to be the problem?” I ask her.
“The fish, it doesn’t look right,” she replies. “You also requested a certain cut for the steak, and the supplier messed it up. The chef is losing his mind.”
“Well, it’s an easy fix, I’m sure.”
As we approach a door near the kitchen, she gestures for me to enter. “Right through here, ma’am.”
Before we step fully into the kitchen, someone reaches out and grabs my arm, covering my mouth as they do. I try to scream and fight, but the grip is too tight.
Aren’t there people around watching? How come no one is shouting?
The room is small and dimly lit, more of a storage area than anything else. The door slams shut behind me, and my stomach drops.
“Hello, Grace.”
My breath catches in my throat.
Andrew.
He stands a few feet away, his smile cold and predatory. The sight of him sends a wave of fear crashing over me, my heart pounding so loudly I can barely hear anything else.
I instinctively take a step back, but there’s nowhere to go. The walls feel like they’re closing in.
“What…what are you doing here?” My voice trembles, betraying the terror I’m desperately trying to suppress.
“I came to see you,” he says smoothly, taking a step closer. “You’ve been avoiding me, Grace. That’s not very polite.”
My hands curl into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms. “Let me out. Now. Before I scream.”
He laughs. “Oh, Grace. You think anyone out there cares enough to help you? They’re too busy drinking their overpriced champagne and patting themselves on the back.”
I move toward the door, but he’s faster. His hand slams against the wood, blocking my escape. “We’re going to have a little chat first.”
Panic claws at my chest, my instincts screaming at me to run, to fight, to do anything but stand here frozen. I glance around the room, searching for something—anything—I can use to defend myself.
“You can’t keep running from me,” he says, his tone darkening. “You owe me, Grace. You owe me everything.”
“I owe you nothing,” I snap, finding my voice. “You’re a liar and a coward, and you don’t scare me.”
It’s a lie, of course. I’m terrified. But I refuse to let him see it.
“I made you.
Without me, you would have never gotten your first modeling gig.
No one would have ever paid attention to the country bumpkin.
This,” he spreads his arms wide to gesture to the gala outside the doors, “this wouldn’t be possible without me.”
“I did this.”
“I made you, and then you were able to do it because of that,” he hisses.
“I don’t know why you’re doing this, Andrew. You left on good terms and…”
“You ruined me when you fired me! Good terms! Are you that delusional?”
“I didn’t…”
“You were my biggest client! I was counting on that income, and then you took it away from me with no warning. I lost my wife and…”
“You weren’t married,” I whisper.
“I gave you plenty of warnings that things weren’t working out, but you were too busy to take action.
I needed a manager who could prioritize me, but that wasn’t you.
There were no hard feelings until you began torturing me.”
“You ruined me!” he screams.
His expression shifts, anger flashing in his eyes. He lunges, and I barely manage to sidestep him, my shoulder slamming into the wall as I move.
I grab a metal tray from a nearby shelf, clutching it like a shield.
“Help!” I scream, my voice hoarse. “Someone, help!”
He grabs a handful of my hair, yanking me backward. The pain is blinding, tears springing to my eyes as I struggle against his grip.
Desperation takes over, and I swing the tray blindly, the metallic clang echoing in the small room.
The door bursts open, and suddenly, Andrew is gone, tackled to the ground by a blur of movement. It takes me a moment to register Tad pinning him against the wall, his expression a mask of fury.
“Stay down, you bastard,” Tad growls, snapping handcuffs onto Andrew’s wrists. “You’re done.”
I collapse against the wall, my legs too shaky to hold me up. The adrenaline drains from my body, leaving me trembling and weak. The room feels like it’s spinning, the edges of my vision blurring.
“Grace!” Theo’s voice cuts through the chaos, sharp and desperate. He’s at my side in an instant, pulling me into his arms. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
I shake my head, my face buried against his chest. His familiar scent and the solid warmth of his embrace are the only things keeping me grounded.
“He didn’t…I don’t know…I…I think I’m okay.”
“You stupid bitch!” Andrew growls. “This isn’t over. They’ll let me out again and I’ll…”
Tad slams his head down against the concrete. “Oops, must’ve slipped. Don’t speak anymore.”
An officer scurries into the room and begins reading Andrew his Miranda rights. He’s not listening though as he continues to spew threats at me while they try to contain him.
Theo holds me tighter, his hand cradling the back of my head. “We’re leaving. Right now.”
I don’t argue. I can feel the tension radiating from him, the barely restrained anger simmering beneath the surface. He’s livid, and for once, I’m glad. Andrew doesn’t deserve anything less.
A group of people is making a human wall to shield us as we leave the kitchen area and make our way outside to the SUV waiting for us.
As Theo leads me out of the hotel, Tad’s voice echoes behind us. “Don’t worry, Grace. He’s not going anywhere.”
Theo keeps his arm around me, his presence a protective barrier against the lingering fear. We climb into the car, and he immediately pulls me close again, his lips pressing against my hair.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve kept you safe.”
“It’s not your fault,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “You couldn’t have known.”
His jaw tightens, and he doesn’t respond. The car pulls away from the hotel, and Theo’s phone buzzes. He answers without letting go of me.
“Devon?”
I can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but Theo’s expression shifts, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.
“Thank you,” he says finally. “Keep me updated.”
He hangs up and looks at me, his eyes softening.
“Andrew’s done.
They have proof he’s been stalking someone else, and he’s being charged with home invasion for that.
He won’t be able to hurt anyone again.
It goes against his probation and the restraining orders that he showed up here and made contact with you, adding in the home invasion and the stalking of another former client.
He won’t be going to any facility he can leave anytime soon.”
Relief floods through me, the weight of the night finally lifting. I rest my head against Theo’s chest, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear.
“We’re going back to England,” he says. “Where it’s safe.”
I nod, exhaustion pulling me under. I hadn’t realized how tense and scared I was…I mean, I know it’s common sense and all, but lying against Theo right now, I feel as though I just ran ten marathons in a row.
“He’s not going to come near you again.”
I’m not sure what the difference is, but I believe him wholeheartedly this time.