27. Chapter 27 #2
I force my tears to stay down long enough for me to get these words out.
"It was six years ago. He… Alan Miller was always inviting me out places.
He said he had connections, he could get me bigger roles.
I felt pressured because others around me were saying how fun he was, and wonderful, how he really could take my career to new heights.
So I went out with him a few times to different parties.
It was always platonic on my end. He made passes at me sometimes and tried to flirt, but I politely declined.
He seemed okay with it. He wasn't weird with me on set.
And even though I told him I didn't want to date, he actually helped me get a role in a movie that won a Sundance award.
I started to believe everything was okay and that what people said about him was true. That he was a good guy."
My throat constricts like it's trying to stop what comes next in my story, but I won't let it.
It's time I speak my truth. "After we wrapped the third season of my sitcom, he was excited to take his 'star' somewhere special.
He said it was an exclusive party only VIPs could attend.
It was a privilege to go, he said. I felt uneasy, but he'd been a decent guy up to that point, so I went.
But something felt really wrong as soon as I stepped into that mansion. "
Sean's jaw is pulsing again. Pulse. Pulse. Pulse. His features are even darker and more menacing, but I know it's not directed at me.
I clear my throat. God, this is the hardest part.
Deep breaths.
"Um, I don't know how to describe it. On the surface, it seemed like any Hollywood party I'd been to.
There were drugs. Drinking. Some recognizable celebrities.
Some flashes of skin. But everything felt…
sharper, if that makes sense. The people there weren't just confident and wealthy.
They had an untouchable power. Like they were all Gods among mortals.
I wanted to leave immediately, but Alan kept finding ways to make me stay.
He wanted me to meet someone or he started talking about season four and asking for my opinion on character arcs.
I finally needed space, so I slipped away to find the bathroom.
" I touch my throat as I clear it again.
The emotion is growing unbearably thick and my heart is pounding so much I feel faint, but I'm almost through this. Just a few more lines.
"It was a maze and I clearly looked lost. Some woman finally took my arm and said she knew exactly what I was seeking.
I said, 'Oh, you know where the bathroom is?
' and she laughed. She started leading me somewhere.
After a flight of stairs and a few long hallways, she pushed me into a room that was actually a small auditorium with a stage.
There were… there were naked men and women on stage being auctioned off.
I immediately turned around and fled. Who expects something like that to exist?
It wasn't a show or a charity event where people bid on dates.
It was people actually getting bought and sold against their will.
I could tell by their terrified faces and the men standing off stage pointing guns at them. "
More pulsing from Sean's jaw, but he's remaining very composed otherwise. Though still very murderous-looking.
"I ran through hallway after hallway until I finally found the main area with the party.
Alan spotted me and asked what happened.
I told him everything but he didn't seem shocked.
He only nodded and frowned. He said…" I bite back a sob.
Almost done. "He said, 'Oh, Elle. I didn't want you to see that, sweetheart.
Why didn't you stay by my side?' Then I felt a sharp pinch on my thigh.
It's so fuzzy now, but I think he poked me with a needle.
I got so confused and dizzy. I wanted to puke.
I felt him taking me somewhere, then I must've passed out.
When I woke… I, um… I was chained to a bed.
But it wasn't a normal bedroom. It had brick walls and no windows.
" My efforts to stop the tears are failing and my words are soaked in them.
"I was… in there so long… six days… and what he did…
I just can't say it." Words spill out fast before they get flooded.
"I thought I would die in there, but he let me go.
He dropped me off home. I couldn't leave my apartment.
I was too scared. A week later, these men broke in and beat me and said they'd kill me if I didn't leave California.
So I left. I left my entire life and my passion for acting, and I moved here. "
I finally let the tears out, sobbing, but my words aren't done.
I surprise even myself as they keep spilling out.
"I'm just so tired. I'm tired of… this shit of reliving that nightmare because I want…
want to move on. I don't want to feel so anxious all the time…
scared of strangers on the street. I don't want these stupid reactions.
I… I pushed myself with you. Because… because I want to feel normal and be intimate, but.
.. even with you, I couldn't… I couldn't be normal… "
With all the words finally out, I hunch over. Everything crumbles—my composure, my strength, my hope. I'm sobbing openly now, years of bottled pain pouring out in front of the one person I've allowed close enough to see it.
After what feels like an eternity, I finally glance up at Sean.
That edgy vengeance that had taken over his face is gone, replaced by warm tones and eyes that are softly open to witness me fully. A tear slips silently down his cheek. His arms twitch at his sides, his voice achingly tender. "Can I hold you?"
I wipe at my face, trying to calm myself enough to speak.
"I want that in my heart. I'd really like it, but the rest of me…
" Another sob threatens to rise, and I swallow it down forcefully.
"I don't know how I'll react right now. If I'll feel triggered.
This is why I'm so frustrated. Because I would like you to hold me, but… "
Sean nods with the same gentle expression. He extends one hand toward me, palm up, fingers slightly curled. "What about this?"
I stare at his offering—his strong, open hand suspended in the space between us. I think of how I've held it a few times now, how solid and warm it felt. How safe I feel from just his fingers wrapped around mine like armor.
Slowly, I reach out, my fingers shaking slightly as they hover over his.
I let my hand descend until our palms meet, and his fingers gently close around mine.
The contact is an immediate warmth up my arm and into my chest. It spreads through all of me, even down to my toes.
The tears retreat a little, as if just this simple hand-holding is enough to soothe them into hibernation. My entire body melts.
It's such a small thing, just the touch of skin against skin, but it's also monumental. I'm not carrying the weight of my past alone. Someone else has stepped into the void with me, not to rescue, but to stand beside me while I find my own way out.
"Tell me what you need," he says as another tear slips unnoticed down his cheek. "I'll do anything you ask."
The certainty in his voice startles me. There's no hesitation there, no conditions, just absolute commitment. "Anything? Why?"
"You say it's not my fault, but I can't stand knowing that I played any part in upsetting you. And…" He pauses, his thumb brushing lightly over my knuckles. "I just want to. I want to take your pain away. So whatever you need."
The raw honesty in his words make my lungs forget their job. No one has ever looked at me like this, like my well-being is the most important thing in their world. Like they would move mountains or tear down cities if it meant I could breathe easier.
Sean , my heart is whispering.
"Anything?"
"If you want me to find Miller and take care of him, I will."
A small smirk starts to form on my lips from the dark humor, until I register the deadly seriousness in his expression.
The soldier emerges—steady hands, unflinching gaze, a coiled readiness in his body.
This man could receive an order and execute it without question.
Threats would be neutralized. Problems would disappear.
I shiver. Not from fear, exactly, but from a strange discomfort mingled with…
what? Power? I've had fantasies about The Director getting exactly what he deserves, about making sure he never hurts another woman the way he hurt me.
Late at night, when the painful memories are sharpest, I've imagined all sorts of karmic justice being served.
But to actually have someone willing to make those dark fantasies real? It's like being handed a loaded gun when all I've ever had were paper drawings of weapons.
I have no doubt that Sean is capable of fulfilling those fantasies, but I shake my head as I look at our joined hands.
His thumb is making slow, rhythmic circles along my knuckles.
It's hypnotic and soothing. He has such long, strong fingers; they're elegant despite their obvious strength.
I imagine them trailing along my skin, exploring and caressing.
My eyes travel to his other hand, which is still tucked safely in his pocket.
It's been like this each time, hasn't it?
He's kept his distance, letting me be the one who closes it.
Every touch between us has been initiated by me.
When I flirted with him in the hallway, when I touched his scars, when I texted him to watch me… I was in control. And I didn't panic.
I only panicked when I gave Sean the reins, thinking I could handle it.
That's what I need: control. I need to set the pace and determine what happens and when. To be the director of my own intimate scenes at all times. At least for now.
"You mean anything?" I ask, my voice stronger now.
"Yes."
A risky thought crosses my mind, unfurling like smoke. I think I see a way forward, a path I can explore without the same risk of being triggered. It's my chance to reclaim what was stolen from me and finally move on.
"Could you send Mike away this weekend? What if he flew home to visit his family for just a few days? I'm sure he'd love that, and my stalkers are in hiding now anyway. With him gone, you could come over to my place without him watching." I swallow, gathering my courage. "We could… try again."
Sean's hand tenses around mine, his eyes searching my face. "I don't want to upset you."
"I have an idea we could try. I think it will keep me from getting so triggered. If you're willing?"
He looks conflicted. I mean, I understand since I just dropped a huge amount of baggage on him. I'm sure sex is furthest from his mind, but I'm not suggesting anything happen now. Just planning for the future.
"Think about it," I say, giving his hand a final squeeze before reluctantly letting go.
I wish I could hold his hand forever. "I know what I shared with you was a lot.
We both need time, so let's take a breather.
Take a few days to think it over. If you're willing, send Mike home for the weekend and then come over to my place on Friday around eight. "
My heart pounds against my ribs like it's trying to escape. Did I really just suggest that? Make plans for a weekend alone with Sean? I'm nervous but a lot more excited.
"I should go," I say, already thinking about what I need to order online in case Sean agrees. I'll need certain… items in order to face my fears and finally step through that window into the outside world. "I've got work. Just think about it?"
Sean nods, his expression still conflicted but softening around the edges.
As I walk to the door, I feel his eyes on me, steady and watchful.
I don't mind being seen.