Chapter 38
Zeke
It’s been two days since the articles started dropping. A few things have been posted to social media, but we’re hoping it stays within circles Derek would never see.
Talon’s parents have been in communication with us about options, and ultimately, we just have to wait and see if Derek reaches out.
It’s hard to enjoy the city with this drama hanging over our heads, but neither do I want to go back to Montana.
It’s a true holding pattern.
One that makes me wish I could draw Derek out, face this thing head-on, and put it all behind us.
And then it hits me as I’m lying on the couch, reading yet another article about Devereaux Holdings and seeing my name in italics like they’re trying to highlight the fact that I don’t fit in.
My biggest fears are Derek telling the world that I slept with him for rent and him trying to get money out of Talon by telling lies that would be damaging to his company.
But what if I tell my story first? What if Talon and I set the record straight?
We could take the wind right out of Derek’s sails before he even fills them up.
Maybe it’s time I stop being ashamed of my past once and for all.
You can’t fear the skeletons in the closet if the closet is empty.
I jump off the couch in search of Talon so I can get his opinion on this idea. Turning the corner to head for the stairs, I run smack into him.
I bounce off his chest and stumble backwards. It’s like hitting a brick wall.
He catches me with an arm around my waist, and a playful comment is on the tip of my tongue until I see his face.
“What’s wrong?” I ask immediately.
“I heard from Derek.”
“How?” I’m not sure why that’s the first question that pops into my head, but I know he doesn’t have our cell phone numbers.
“Once someone knows my real name, my company is easy to find, as are our email addresses.”
“Bold of him to put anything in writing,” I say, almost relieved that this will be over soon. “What does he want?”
“Me to call him so we can ‘discuss this like gentlemen.’”
“Ohmygod, don’t make me laugh,” I say drily.
“Where were you headed in such a hurry?” Talon asks as his eyes flit to my lips, still holding me to him.
“To find you.”
“Oh, yeah?”
The tension and anxiety over hearing from Derek are still present, but Talon’s dilated pupils and crooked smile give away the desire he can’t hide. I never in a million years dreamed anyone would want me like this. Let alone a man like Talon.
“Down, boy,” I say with a laugh. “I was coming to run an idea by you.” I spend the next several minutes going over my plan to tell my story. The whole story. “Controlling the narrative, I believe it’s called,” I finish.
“Zeke, I don’t want you to have to do that. That information is private, not to mention excruciatingly painful, and the media isn’t soft. You won’t have to sit in a room across from Derek like you would in court, but it has the potential to be just as traumatic,” Talon warns.
“I know. But I decided to do this before I knew he’d reached out.
Now that I know he has, it feels even more important that I follow through.
I don’t want him in the background of our lives forever.
Nor do I want to spend a year that I could be moving on, meeting with attorneys, going through pre-trial hearings, and reliving that night over and over again just to possibly get to the end and have a jury release him.
It’s not worth it to me. Derek’s already gotten so much of my life.
This way, the world knows the truth about Derek, about me, about you, and most importantly, about us, and the fact that this isn’t some predatory love story with a power imbalance on your part or a manipulative gold-digging mission on mine.
Once we’ve told the truth, on our terms, then we’ve done everything we can.
” I grip the hem of Talon’s shirt. “I just want to live life with you. Simply. Peacefully. Together.”
Talon stares at me for a long moment, saying nothing, and I can see the wheels turning behind his eyes. He’s in business mode, weighing pros and cons…it’s pretty hot.
“I hate this,” he finally says. “These choices are so un-fucking-fair to you.”
“Life never promised to be fair,” I point out. “But it’s hard to be mad at it when it brought us together.”
Talon kisses my forehead and runs his knuckles down my cheek.
“Let me make some calls. How soon do you want to do this?”
“The sooner the better. Before Derek reaches out again for sure,” I tell him.
Talon leans down and pulls my bottom lip into his mouth. It quickly heats up when he pushes me against the wall of the hallway, nipping at my jaw and sucking on my neck. His hands roam over my body, and the sounds that leave his throat threaten to leave me in a puddle of precum on the floor.
But time is of the essence.
I press lightly on his chest, and he stops immediately. Always looking for signs of my discomfort or need to pause.
Gripping the roots of his hair, I smile at him.
“Let’s do what needs to be done, and then I want to pick up where we’re leaving off, okay?”
Talon nods.
“Give me an hour.”
While he’s calling whomever he needs to call, I make a call of my own.
“Ricochet Medical Center, how may I direct your call?” the receptionist asks.
“Patient medical records, please.”
It’s amazing how quickly things can get done when you have the right contacts and the right last name.
By three p.m., Talon, Eloise, Lorraine, Harrison, and I are in a studio of sorts. Lukas is notably absent, and I hate feeling like it’s my fault that he’s at odds with his family, but I shove the thought to the back of my mind. There’s no room to think about that right now.
“You must be Zeke,” a lady says, coming to stand in front of me. She reminds me of a news anchor. Her makeup is well done, her hair is well-styled, and her clothes are perfectly pressed. “I’m Georgia. I’ll be conducting your first interview.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I reply, shaking her hand, hoping mine isn’t too sweaty.
Turning to Talon, she says, “Dahlia did me quite the favor by placing this interview in my lap.”
Shaking the woman’s hand, Talon corrects her. “She did us both a favor.”
A door opens from somewhere behind us, and I’m shocked to see Dahlia herself enter the room. I bristle when she makes a beeline straight for Talon, kissing him on the cheek.
“I certainly appreciate this,” he says. “Especially after the way I spoke to you on the phone.”
Poised and regal as ever, Dahlia replies, “It was actually the way you spoke to me that made me aware of how much you care for him,” she says as both pairs of eyes swing toward me.
“I love him,” Talon clarifies.
“I know,” Dahlia says.
“You didn’t have to come all the way down here,” Talon tells her.
She gives him a small smile and pats his cheek.
“Actually, I did. I’m recording in the studio next door with Carly about the drama surrounding the upcoming art symposium.”
Talon returns her smile and gives her a nod.
“Always in the thick of things,” he teases. “Thank you, Dahlia.”
She exits the room, and I can finally breathe again.
The plan is to tell the story on a live podcast, which will then be uploaded to multiple outlets. Stills from the interview will be posted to social media, and the transcript will be sent to three print media sources.
At my request, Talon sits next to me on the couch during the podcast. Some felt he should be in the frame; others felt he shouldn’t, but I need his strength.
I’m better with him next to me. Plus, I think it’s important for those watching to see Talon’s face when he looks at me.
His isn’t an expression that can be faked.
Twenty minutes later, Georgia sits down with Talon and me as I lay the truth bare.
“There are a lot of feelings involved in surviving a situation like mine. Those who love you want justice. Some survivors want revenge. Others just want to forget. And sometimes you feel all those things at once. There are people who will add guilt to your already overwhelming list of emotions because they feel like you chose the wrong path to moving on, or you’re too fragile to make the right call.
But the truth is that the right call can be different for everyone. ”
With steady hands, I hold up the pictures I’d acquired of my bruised and broken body.
“Even as I lay in a hospital bed recovering from surgery that was made necessary because of being beaten and sexually assaulted, I didn’t want to press charges.
I wanted to heal, forget, and move on. But the strength that decision took was seen as a weakness by my assailant.
He thought I would remain afraid and embarrassed, and would therefore cave to his threats forever.
Upon my name being printed in connection with…
Christian’s,”—it feels so weird calling him that—“my ex has decided to use me as a payday. One that isn’t coming.
I’m choosing to fight back now because it’s the right choice for me… for us…in this moment.”
It gets less painful every time I see the pictures and talk about the events that occurred, which isn’t something I expected. I thought that night would always haunt me.
Georgia tactfully asks questions about my background and my life before meeting Talon. Taking advantage of his presence, she also asks permission to discuss Talon’s life, including his dating history, and I listen with rapt attention as he speaks.
“It can be exhausting trying to determine someone’s motives as early as a first date.
Most of my partners were women who grew up in the same social circles as I did, which puts an unhealthy expectation on both parties.
When I met Zeke, he didn’t know who I was or how much my family is worth, and that gave us the space to create an authentic connection without worrying about dollar signs,” he explains eloquently as he laces our fingers together.
When we finally get to the whole point of the meeting, I feel nothing but relief as I spill the sordid details of what it took to survive.
“Am I proud of the fact that I stayed in an abusive relationship and used my body as currency? Of course not. But I am proud of the fact that I had the strength to do those things so that I could survive. I wouldn’t wish my early life on anyone.
With time and distance, I’m able to see now that those acts didn’t make me who I am.
They were things I did when I had no other options, and I refuse to let them define me any longer.
Derek’s expecting a payday because he thinks I’m ashamed and want to keep this information quiet.
But I’ve discovered there’s power in speaking out. And I’ll no longer be ruled by fear.”
By the time the forty-five-minute podcast is over, I feel lighter, but also exhausted, until Lorraine reaches for me and pulls me into her arms.
“You are so brave,” she whispers, forcing tears to my eyes. I can’t hold back my sob of relief that this is finally over. Lorraine squeezes me tighter and rubs my back in a motherly way. I was never hugged by my own mother like this…and that makes me cry even harder.
“Shhh,” she whispers soothingly in my ear. “We’ve got you, honey. You’ll always have a seat at our table. You’re home now.”