CHAPTER NINE
JESSIE
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You’re fucking gorgeous. If you weren’t Jayden’s sister....
Why does that matter? Surely if two people are interested in one another when they are grown up, shouldn’t they...
Then I realize my error.
Liam wants to have sex with me, that’s clear. Whereas I’ve been in love with him for as long as I can remember.
I’ve tried not to be, I really have. Not seeing him for periods of time when he was in the Air Force, I did think I was cured. But his sexy ass would walk into my parent’s house and, boom, all that lust and a barrage of emotions would knock me off my feet.
Then he’d wink at me and say, “Hey, Squirt,” as if he was unaffected and we’d only seen one another yesterday instead of six or nine months.
Repeatedly, over the years, I’ve had this faux conversation with Jayden. I love Liam. I want to be with him. Give us your blessing.
I can guarantee, not for a second, has Liam considered talking to him about how he feels.
Because he just wants a fuck.
Well, at least I can respect that he hasn’t tried, showing he has some respect for me.
What about the other times you and Liam have found yourselves privately together?
Ugh, stupid brain.
It’s true, he hasn’t always avoided me. When we were younger, he’d pat the sofa and invite me to watch a movie. Or he’d carry my popcorn if we went to the theater’s saying, “You always drop it, Squirt. I’ve got it.”
Squirt.
I used to love that nickname; now I hate it.
It’s a kid’s name.
When Jayden was old enough to babysit me, Liam would come over and sneak me an extra cookie after dinner.
One night I couldn’t sleep. I snuck downstairs and found Jay crashed out while Liam scrolled through the channels.
“You okay, Squirt?” he looked up, lowering the remote.
I’d been thirteen. Old enough to know Liam was seriously good-looking and notice all the girls in the neighborhood crushing on him. He and my brother, which was gross.
I was also old enough to know I was way too young for him to be interested in me. He was seventeen and already looked like a man.
“Just need some fresh air.” I pointed to the kitchen, which led out to the yard.
Without a word, Liam climbed off the sofa and followed me outside. For the next two hours we sat talking and staring at the stars.
“You really want to be an actress?” he asked.
“Yup. I’m going to be famous like Jennifer Aniston or Jennifer Lawrence.”
“All the Jennifer’s huh?” Liam grinned.
“I’m going to buy a mansion in Hollywood and have a big pool.”
“You have a pool,” he pointed out.
“With pool boys.” I’d giggled, enjoying his playfulness.
His smile had turned serious. “Jessie, you are too young to know about pool boys.”
I’d sat up straight. “I am not. I know what to do.”
I didn’t. I had kissed a boy for the first time two months prior.
The boy, Sam, had asked if I knew what a BJ was.
I told him I did, but I lied. Thank goodness we’d been interrupted by our friends because when I found out a few days later I was horrified.
If he’d pulled his thingy out, I would have died.
Or laughed.
Maybe both.
So that night with Liam, I knew what a blow job was and was feeling very confident. I just hadn’t given one.
“Change of subject.” Liam laughed. “What kind of movies do you want to act in?”
Relaxing, I went into great description about RomComs and who would be my leading men. How the show would be on TV, and millions of Americans would know my name.
“If it makes you happy, you should do it.”
“What are you going to do, Lim?” I asked, using the name I’d called him when I was little and couldn’t say Liam.
“Probably join the army.”
“What? No, that’s dangerous. You could die.” I grabbed his arm.
“I won’t die. You’ve seen me shoot.”
Crossing my legs beneath me, facing him, I shook my head. “Lim, no. If you join, Jayden will join, and I’ll spend my life imagining you both dead on the ground in some desert or battlefield.”
Liam had swallowed and sat staring at me.
“Promise me you won’t join the army.” I took his hand. “Please.”
He squeezed it, softly shaking his head. “Jess—”
A sound inside startled us, and I clambered to my feet, Liam following, still holding my hand.
“We’re home,” Mom called out.
“Shit,” I cursed.
“Come with me,” Liam tugged me across the deck and around the side of the house. Then he’d hoisted me up by my hips onto the trellis.
My heart had been pounding.
Not because my parents were going to catch me outside at midnight, but because I could feel the heat of Liam’s muscular body behind me. The smell of his familiar aftershave.
Then it happened.
Liam wrapped his arms either side of me and climbed behind me until I safely reached the window to my bedroom.
“Go.” He patted my cotton PJ clad bottom.
I swung my leg over and leaned out, smiling down at him.
“Jess.”
“Yeah?”
“I promise,” Liam said, then he disappeared.
A year later, Jayden and Liam joined the Air Force. I’d been furious.
Until three years later.
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THE GOLF CART bounces around Warner Bros, and I let thoughts of Liam fade away.
Savannah shows me where they filmed a couple of her movies, where her trailer was, and other famous spots. Celebrities wander around like it’s no big deal while my eyes pop out of my head. Some wave out to Savannah; some don’t seem to care about her at all.
Here she’s no big deal.
Or so it appears.
“Sorry, ladies, I have to get home to the twins,” Briar says, jumping off the golf cart. I learned she’s Aidan’s wife—one of the owners of Black Hawke Security—and then realize I saw her at the party on the weekend.
“Nice to meet you.”
Briar hugs Savannah and talks work for a quick minute. As well as working together, the two women are friends—part of the wider friend network Liam and Jayden belong to.
“How long are you in California?” Briar asks, leaning one hand on the cart.
“Um, if I can find some work, maybe a while. Jayden is away for a couple of weeks, so I need to find a place to live by then.” I shrug and smile. “It was a spontaneous decision to come to LA.”
“Well, make sure Liam brings you to the beach party this weekend.” Briar waves.
“Okay.” I cringe behind my smile, knowing that won’t happen after this morning.
I have some deep thinking about what I want to do with my life after leaving Texas. Being on the Warner Bros set has triggered a little PTSD, if I’m honest. That happens, I guess, when you’ve been taken advantage of.
Would we call it that?
“I hope you do come this weekend,” Savannah says as we head towards the studio she’s been recording in. “Now, I hear you’ve done some acting.”
“I had a small part in High Tops. We wrapped a couple of days ago,” I say, keeping it brief.
I doubt she wants to hear about my small part on a TV show. It’s small fries compared to her amazing career.
“High Tops! Love that show. This is season three, right?”
I nod, a little happy that she knows it.
“Yup, I play one of the female cops. It’s just a small part, mostly making coffee, eating a donut, or doing fake filing while the main characters are being filmed.”
“No spoilers. I’m excited to see it.” Savannah grins, not in the least judgmental about me being inconsequential. “Who’s the producer on the show? Is that Frank Bonito?”
His name makes my chest tighten and stomach churn.
“Hmm, yes.”
I received my final pay overnight and never want to think about Frank or that damn show again.
Not after the wrap party.
Not after what he did.
Frank thought he owned me from day one after giving me the role on High Tops. I was stupid enough to agree and let him think he did.
It was my first proper part—I was in every episode of High Tops—and that’s a big deal for a newer and struggling actor. At twenty-four, I should have had more work, but I hadn’t. I’d been waitressing and doing part-time retail work until that gig came up.
So I was very grateful.
Now it could be the last bit of acting I ever do.
That night, after wrapping on set, the crew got together and had drinks...which turned into more drinks.
Frank asked me to join him for a chat in his office later in the night. Honestly, I thought he was going to invite me to return for another season. Or discuss another show.
I was wrong.
So fucking wrong.
When I stepped into his office, I came face to face with his smug, creepy smile, which had red flags flashing around me. He stepped a little too close, pushing me against the back of his desk.
“You did well this season, Jess. Real good.”
“Thanks.” I tried to move, but he patted the desk.
“Sit.”
Then another man I hadn’t seen until today on set, walked in and shut the door. An extra click told me he’d locked it.
Panic set in.
“What’s going on?” I asked, nervously laughing.
Frank grabbed my knees and spread them apart. “It’s time for my payment, and there’s nothing I like more than sharing my winnings.”
“What? No. Oh my god. Get off.”
I tried to knock him away, fear thrusting through my veins, but he was much stronger than me. And seemed to be getting off on my resistance.
“Whoa, a little spitfire.” The other man laughed. “Does she suck well?”
Frank grabbed my face. “She has a big mouth and a lot to say, so I bet she does.”
“Stop. Get off me!” I’d screamed.
Frank slapped me.
“Shut up. If you want to work again, here or in Hollywood, you’ll shut your dirty slut mouth and do as I tell you.”
I knew then for sure I was in big trouble.
I should have kicked him in the balls.
I should have screamed my head off.
Instead, like the stupid idiot I am, I froze.
Frank and his accomplice began undoing their pants as I shook in fear.
Tears ran down my face while I was dragged onto Frank’s lap—more accurately, onto his cock—and forced to suck the other guy’s member.
They both raped me over and over that night.
I almost vomited several times. The rest I blocked out, going deep inside my head where I refused to feel or remember anything.
But I do remember.
The bruises on my body are impossible to ignore right now. They are nearly gone.
“Go clean yourself up. You look like a mess.” Frank Bonito had hissed, zipping his cock back into his pants.
After leaving, I ran to the nearest bathroom and locked myself inside, crying for over an hour.
It was there I decided I needed to leave Texas.
It wasn’t my brother I ran to for protection.
I ran to Liam.
Now, I wish I hadn’t.