Chapter 28 #2
“At the studio. He needs to re-record a couple of songs that Luke wasn’t happy with, and it’s the first chance we’ve had since he returned from his trip to London to spend time with his family.”
The trip where he was more interested in seducing Joz’s sister to try to dig up dirt on Joz than spending time with his parents and brother. Dirt he’d unfortunately found.
“Great, thanks.” I hung up and immediately called my lawyer. Whatever it took, however much it cost to rip up that contract, Presley Knox’s career with Kingcaid Music was over.
Presley was mid set when I entered the control room. I took a seat at the back, motioning for Luke, his sound engineer, to continue. Presley had his eyes closed, that haunting voice that had captivated me in London filling the studio. What a waste. What a fucking waste of talent.
Why had he done it? What could he possibly hope to gain? And how had he known about the diary in the first place?
After twenty minutes of making beautiful music that would never see the light of day, Presley set down his guitar.
Only then did his gaze lock on me. He beamed, seemingly happy to see me, despite our previous face-to-face interaction after he’d tried to kiss me.
That wouldn’t last long. I hooked a thumb at the door.
“Give us a minute, would you, Luke?”
“Oh, sure.” He slipped into the hallway.
Seconds later, the door between the control room and the sound booth opened. “Aspen, what a great surprise.”
“Sit down, Presley.” I jabbed a finger at Luke’s chair.
A momentary flicker of unease crossed his face as he sat. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes. Something is wrong.”
“Is it the album? Don’t you like it? Because we just re-recorded a couple of songs, and they’re gonna blow up big. You just wait. Anything you don’t like, I can fix it.”
“It’s not the album. And no, it won’t blow up big, because I don’t intend to release it.”
His eyes flared wide. “What?”
I leaned forward, elbows braced on the sound desk. “I know, Presley. I know everything.”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
The momentary stutter was a dead giveaway. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out it was you who leaked Joz’s diary?”
“Me?” He pointed at himself, then released the fakest laugh I’d ever heard. “What makes you think it was me?”
“Erin Raynor.”
A fleeting ‘Oh, fuck’ crossed his face, then his entire expression hardened. “She’s a liar.” He got up, and I did, too. “Whatever she told you, she’s lying.”
“So, you didn’t pretend to like her so you could sleep with her and gain access to Joz’s apartment? You didn’t go through his personal effects, find his diary, and leak it to the press? Tell me, Presley, how did you know Joz had written that diary? No one knew.”
With his crime out in the open, Presley’s mask slipped, and what lay beneath the genial image he portrayed was a whole load of ugly. He smirked. Smirked. “Not true. Someone knew.”
“Who?”
“A guy he was in rehab with. On my trip home, I was in a bar one night and got chatting to this guy. Raynor came up in conversation. No idea how he knew about the diary, but I guess secrets are hard to keep in those places. Isn’t it all about sharing and getting your demons out there? ” He shrugged. “Not that I’d know.”
“But why? Joz was the one who championed you. If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t have had this shot.” A shot he’d now wrecked beyond repair.
“I wanted to show you who he really was. He’s not good enough for you.”
Jesus Christ. Not this again. “And you think you are?”
“I know I am.”
I heaved a heavy sigh. “Whatever feelings you think you have for me, they’re not real. It’s a crush that will pass as soon as you meet a girl you like. You’ve committed a crime, Presley. You see that, don’t you?”
He shook his head. “All I see is you being taken for a fool. If you’re not careful, you’ll end up like Caroline.”
A flash of anger surged through me. “You’re done here. Get your things and get out.”
I turned, ready to leave, but as I reached for the door, he grabbed my arm, spinning me.
His body slammed into mine, momentarily knocking the air from my lungs.
He smashed his lips to mine, clamping his hand around my throat.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t bring my knee up, not from this position. He was too close, too strong.
Adrenaline shot through my system, and an icy sweat broke out all over my body. For a split second, I panicked.
Remember your self-defense classes.
I jammed both thumbs into Presley’s eyes. He hollered and stumbled backward. With the space he made, I rammed the heel of my hand under his chin. His head snapped back, and he lost his balance, fell backward, and crashed into the mixing board.
I wrenched open the door and collided with Luke. “Call the police,” I gasped, rubbing my aching throat.
His gaze panned behind me, where Presley was half-slumped on the floor. “What the f—?”
“Just do it, Luke. Now! And don’t let him leave.”
“On it.”
I lurched down the hallway, pitching myself through the door to my office. As soon as I slid the lock in place, my knees gave way, and I crumpled to the floor. I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking.
It’s okay. You’re okay.
Fight or flight. I’d fought, and now my body had gone in to recovery mode.
Taking the advice I’d given to Erin, I took several deep breaths. Gradually, my chest slowed down, and the shakes assaulting my body eased.
That was when the tears came.
I lost track of time, of how long I sat on the floor of my office when there was a perfectly comfortable chair and a small couch I could’ve picked instead.
Why had I allowed myself to be alone with Presley for a second time?
Why did I do that? Stupid. So fucking stupid.
I should’ve fired him weeks ago when he tried to kiss me, but I’d given him the benefit of the doubt.
This time, I’d make sure the fucking book was thrown at that guy.
A tentative knock came at my door. “Aspen, it’s Luke. The police are here.”
“One sec.” Using my desk for leverage, I hauled myself off the floor. After snagging a tissue from the box on my desk, I blew my nose, then used a fresh one to wipe my face. After ensuring my clothes were in place, I opened the door.
A uniformed female officer with kind eyes smiled at me. “Miss Kingcaid.”
I nodded, standing back. “Come in, please.” I gestured to the sofa, and I sat behind my desk. Somehow, it gave me a sense of control. The commanding CEO rather than the powerless victim.
“Would you like to tell me what happened?”
“Yes,” I said, squaring my shoulders. “Presley Knox assaulted me, and I want to press charges.”