Chapter 18 #2
I just didn't know then what I know now.
The way Darren kept finding reasons to stand beside me.
The way his eyes lingered just a little too long whenever I spoke.
The smile that made something deep inside me feel unsettled, even though I couldn't explain why.
Every instinct told me something was off.
I ignored it.
I didn't want to ruin Cal's night.
He had worked too hard for this.
At one point, one of Darren's colleagues pulled Cal aside to introduce him to another producer.
I watched my brother disappear into a crowd of people, laughing as he shook hands and exchanged business cards.
He looked so happy.
I smiled to myself and decided to find the bathroom before we left.
The hallway was quieter than the rest of the house.
The music became muffled behind the walls as I stepped inside the bathroom.
I remember looking at myself in the mirror.
I touched up my lip gloss.
Smoothed a strand of hair behind my ear.
I remember thinking we should probably head home soon because Cal had work early the next morning.
Then I heard the door close behind me.
At first, I didn't think anything of it.
I assumed someone else needed to use the bathroom.
"I'll just be a second," I said as I reached for the handle.
It didn't move.
I turned around.
Darren was standing between me and the door.
He smiled.
Not the polished smile he'd worn all evening.
This one felt different.
Cold.
Predatory.
Every alarm in my body went off at once.
I remember forcing a laugh because I genuinely thought there had to be some misunderstanding.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
He didn't answer.
He just took another step toward me.
My heart began pounding so hard that I could hear it echoing in my ears, and every instinct inside me screamed that something was terribly wrong.
I reached for the doorknob again and tried to push past him.
"Please move," I said, forcing my voice to stay calm even though panic was already beginning to settle in my chest.
He didn't move.
Instead, he stood there watching me with a smile that made my stomach turn.
I tried again, this time with more urgency.
"My brother is waiting for me downstairs."
He still didn't move.
I remember laughing nervously because part of me wanted to believe this was some kind of misunderstanding.
"This isn't funny," I said. "Seriously, move."
I stepped to my left, hoping I could slip around him before he reacted, but he immediately shifted his body and blocked the doorway again.
I tried the other side with the same result.
Every time I moved, he moved with me.
The smile never left his face.
The bathroom, which had felt perfectly ordinary only moments before, suddenly seemed impossibly small.
The walls felt closer, the air felt heavier, and the distance between me and the door somehow seemed farther than it had a minute earlier.
My pulse raced as I searched the room for another way out, but there wasn't one.
It was just the two of us.
That was the moment everything inside me changed.
Until then, I had been trying to convince myself that I had misunderstood what was happening.
The second he blocked the door for the last time, I realized there had never been a misunderstanding at all.
I wasn't trapped because of an awkward joke.
I was trapped because he had planned it that way.
The fear that settled over me in that moment was unlike anything I had ever experienced before or since.
Everything after that blurred together in pieces my mind still tried to protect me from.
I remembered pleading.
I remembered crying.
I remembered the sound of my own voice echoing off marble walls while music continued somewhere downstairs as though nothing terrible was happening.
The party went on.
People laughed.
Glasses clinked together.
Life continued only a few rooms away.
When it was over, he unlocked the door as if nothing had happened.
As if he'd merely interrupted my evening.
I stood there for several seconds because my legs refused to move.
When I finally looked in the mirror again, I barely recognized the woman staring back at me.
I washed my face.
Straightened my clothes with shaking hands.
Practiced breathing until I thought I could pass for normal.
Then I walked back downstairs.
The first person I saw was Cal.
He was smiling from ear to ear.
"I think this is really going to change everything," he said.
I smiled back.
Or at least I tried to.
I couldn't bring myself to destroy the happiest night of his career.
So I climbed into the passenger seat that evening and told him I was just tired.
A tear slipped down my cheek before I realized I was crying.
I brushed it away almost immediately.
Crying had never solved anything.
It only reminded me of how powerless I'd once been, and I had spent years fighting to never feel that way again.
Below me, Houston carried on like any other evening.
Cars drifted through downtown.
Music floated up from somewhere below.
People laughed on neighboring balconies.
The world kept moving.
Mine felt like it had stopped the moment Darren's face appeared on the television.
For the first time in years, I wasn't just afraid of my past.
I was terrified it was about to become part of Jalen's future too.
I sat there with my wine, letting the city noise drift up from the streets below while the night stretched slowly in front of me.
Tomorrow was Friday.
Our date.
The thought of it softened something in my chest.
Because despite everything that had happened today…
Despite Darren Hill's face appearing on my television again…
I still had something to look forward to.
And for the first time in a long time, that feeling was stronger than the fear.
My phone buzzed against the small table beside me.
I glanced down, expecting another message from Nia or maybe Cal checking in again.
Instead, his name lit up the screen.
Jalen
My chest softened instantly.
I wiped my hands on the blanket draped across my legs and answered.
"Hey."
For a second, neither of us spoke.
"I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low.
"I hate that I had to do that interview."
I leaned back in the patio chair and looked out across the city.
"Hey, it's work. Don't apologize."
"I wanted to kill him."
His words came out quietly, but I heard every ounce of anger behind them.
"I know," I said softly.
"I had to sit there and act like he was just another interview."
He let out a frustrated breath.
I closed my eyes for a moment.
"I keep thinking about you sitting there watching it."
"I almost turned it off."
"I'm sorry."
"You already apologized."
"I know."
Another silence settled between us.
"Mars."
"Yeah?"
"Please let me help."
His voice cracked just enough for me to hear it.
"Let me help put that prick away."
My grip tightened around my wine glass.
"No."
"Mars..."
"Please."
I swallowed hard before continuing.
"I don't want to spend another day of my life talking about him."
"He deserves to pay for what he did to you."
"I know he does."
My voice was barely above a whisper.
"But I don't want to relive that night in a courtroom."
I looked up at the stars beginning to appear above the skyline.
"Cal wanted to go after him years ago. He begged me to. I couldn't do it then, and I can't do it now. I just want to bury it."
The line stayed quiet for several seconds.
When Jalen finally spoke, his voice was gentler.
"I hate that he still gets to take things from you."
A tear slipped down my cheek.
"So do I."
"I won't push you." He paused. "But, if you change your mind, just say the word. I'll take care of it for you."
I smiled through my tears.
"I know you would." I truely believed that.
There was a small beat of silence.
The quiet stretched comfortably between us.
I hadn’t realized how much hearing his voice would settle me.
“So,” he said after a moment. “Be ready by seven tomorrow.”
I sat up slightly.
“Seven?”
“Yeah.”
“Where are we going?”
“Nope.”
“What do you mean nope?”
“You’re not getting the details.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Jalen.”
“Stop trying to spoil it.”
I laughed again, the sound lighter this time.
We stayed on the phone a little longer after that, neither of us rushing to hang up. The conversation drifted into easy little moments—small observations about our days, quiet pauses where we could hear each other breathing.
It felt comfortable.
Like we were both lingering there on purpose.
Finally his voice softened slightly.
“You know something?”
“What.”
“Through that whole interview tonight…”
He paused.
“…you were all I could think about.”
The words settled quietly in the air between us.
I stared out at the skyline, my fingers tightening slightly around the stem of my wine glass.
“Yeah?” I said softly.
“Yeah.”
For a moment neither of us spoke.
But somehow the silence didn’t feel empty.
It felt full.
Somewhere in the middle of our conversation, the night quietly carried us away.
One minute we were still talking about nothing in particular, letting the sound of each other’s voices drift through the phone, and the next the conversation had faded into silence.
I must have fallen asleep in the patio chair.
Because when I opened my eyes again, the city looked darker and my neck felt slightly stiff.
I blinked down at my phone.
The screen was still lit.
And on the other end of the call…
Jalen was snoring softly.
Just a faint little rumble through the speaker.
I covered my mouth, laughing quietly so I wouldn’t wake him.
It felt oddly… pure.
Two grown adults accidentally falling asleep on the phone like teenagers.
I smiled to myself before finally ending the call and heading inside to bed.
The next morning started quietly.
Atlas demanded breakfast the moment I stepped into the kitchen, which meant my day officially began with a cat staring at me like I owed him money.
After feeding him, I opened my laptop and spent the next couple hours catching up on work.
Emails, contracts and client messages.
The usual.
But every now and then my mind wandered to the same thought.
Eventually I closed the laptop and headed for the shower.