by Claire Raye
The next file Roger slips to me is closed, his hand resting on top almost as if he’s stopping me from opening it.
“This one is an interesting one,” he starts, his face impassive and I feel my heartbeat kick up a few notches. “I did these in a certain order because I know this is going to be difficult for you. Starting with the easiest ones seemed like a good idea when I started, but now I feel like I’m hitting you too much. We can stop at any time.” His words come out in a rush and I’m starting to wonder who is more nervous here.
“I understand. I knew what I was getting myself into when I invited you into my home to share your story.” Even as the words are coming out of my mouth, they don’t fully hold the truth. I don’t understand and I’m terrified as hell.
He removes his hand from the file and I flip it open. It looks like all the others, but this time the small picture looking back at me is Ian Hudson, the lead on my current film.
I feel my mouth fall open and a gasp slips out. I want to close the file because something about it feels intrusive. Up until now I haven’t had a connection with any of these people beyond once working with them. That’s the nature of this industry. Most of the time you work with someone and never see or hear from them again. It’s been months and even years since I’ve had contact with the women in those files.
But Ian—I have to face him tomorrow on set.
“He’s the only guy I have who came forward to share his story,” Roger says, cutting through the silence that has taken over. My head is swirling as I try to process what this all means.
“This was a long time ago,” Roger starts, but his words sound muffled to me. How can this man be on my set every day and not hate me, not think I’m a horrible person for marrying Noel?
“He was assaulted by Noel on set?” I ask, my question coming out with an air of confusion as I read the notes.
“Many years ago and he reported it. There are police reports and legal documents…” Roger’s words slow as he watches me flip through the file.
“But Noel killed the story,” I mutter, my words practically caught in my throat.
I know exactly how this played out. Ian was young and probably just getting by with bit parts in movies. Taking on Noel would’ve ended his career, and I’m shocked by the measures he did go to because that alone could’ve ruined him.
“He was given a rather large settlement and both men agreed to never work together again. It ended there, but I know after interviewing Ian, it never ended there for him. He was grateful to be able to voice what happened all those years ago.”
“Were you able to get more men to come forward but not share their stories?” I ask, wondering why Ian is the only one.
“I wasn’t. Although I think we both know there are more. In this industry no one wants to be perceived as weak and I think that’s what most men think will happen. I also can’t help but wonder if maybe they are bound by NDAs. I’m pretty sure Ian was Noel’s first assault case and his lawyers didn’t know how to handle it.”
“This was before we were even together,” I tell Roger, knowing I can’t verify the details of his story because I knew nothing about it.
“I know that. I just thought it might be something you’d want to know about before the article goes live.”
Thanks,” I say, wondering if I wasn’t better off in the dark. I now feel like I need to address this with Ian and I have no idea how.
“But Sadie,” Roger says, his words coming out soft and quiet, “there’s more and even this is hard for me.”
I swallow hard that acidic feeling in my throat now returning as I begin to let my brain take me to all those thoughts I’ve had, all those thoughts I pushed away.
He doesn’t hand me a file this time, but shares everything on his own, the oversized stack of files resting in front of him.
“There are many women who have come forward to share their stories with me about being forced into unnecessary nude scenes on set.” Roger’s words hit me like a blow to the stomach. But what he says next is what knocks me on my ass. “He’s had several affairs, Sadie. And while the women don’t use the word rape, all of them say the same thing. They couldn’t say no.”
I can’t speak, and Roger’s words play out in my head over and over.
They couldn’t say no.
“Excuse me,” I manage to squeak out as I push back from the table and race into the house.
Slamming the door behind me, I find a few seconds of solace in the bathroom before I retch over the toilet emptying my stomach. I slide onto the floor, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as I lean against the wall and cry.
I’m sure telling me was hard for him and he isn’t doing this to hurt me, but rather protect me from what’s to come. There’s going to be a ton of backlash and I’m going to be at the center.
I hate myself right now. How can I even possibly think of ever leaving the house again? I don’t deserve to be able to live my life when these women have been subjected to far worse than I ever was.
And I was a part of it.
I knew what Noel was doing, but I just didn’t want to believe it. I turned a blind eye and allowed him to treat people with complete and total disrespect because of who he was.
As much as I want to, I can’t hide from this.
I pick myself up off the floor, I rinse my mouth and take a deep breath before I head back out to see Roger.
I’m still crying, the tears silently falling as I don’t know whether I’m crying for these women or for myself and the guilt I feel or both.
“I’m sorry,” I say, apologizing for what I’m not sure, but I feel like I’m going to be doing a lot of it.
“I expected this would happen. I’m going to say it again, no one blames you for what happened.”
“I blame myself.”
We continue on, Roger sharing each of their stories with me and some I’m able to corroborate and others I can’t, but I do what I can to help.
And when we end our conversation, I ask him something I know he may not be able to give me, but I ask for all their contact information. I want to reach out to each one of Noel’s victims and tell them I support them.
Chapter Thirty
Paul
It’s late by the time I get back to Sadie’s house, which is silent and almost in darkness. I thought I’d get back before the reporter guy left, but everything took longer than I’d expected.
“Sadie?” I call out, as I walk into the kitchen.
“Out here.”
I dump my bag on a stool and wander outside to find Sadie lying in one of the lounge chairs, a beer in her hand as she stares out into the night.
“Hey,” I say, stopping beside her.
“Hi,” she replies, her voice flat as she continues to stare straight ahead.
I watch her for a few seconds before moving over to the small bar fridge. I grab us both a beer and then walk over to where she sits, shifting in behind her so she’s leaning back against me.
She says nothing, just moves forward a little to give me some room as she takes the fresh beer from my hand. When she rests back against me, I wrap an arm around her shoulder and press a kiss to the top of her head.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, neither of us saying anything as I try and give her some space to tell me what happened with the reporter in her own time.
“So, it was worse than what I thought,” she eventually says.
My arm tightens a little as I kiss her again. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
Sadie takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly before taking a sip of beer. She shrugs, as though she isn’t sure what she wants.
“You know there’s no judgement here,” I tell her, my mouth at her ear. “Nothing you say is going to change that, I promise.”
Sadie shrugs again as she murmurs, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”
This time it’s me exhaling as I shift a little so I can look at her. “Sadie,” I whisper, waiting until she turns
to face me. “Nothing Noel did is your fault.”
“It’s not just what he did though, is it,” she says, a harshness to her tone. “I did things too, or more specifically, I did nothing and that’s practically the same thing.”
“No,” I say. “It’s not. Noel is controlling and abusive and that behavior extended beyond the people he worked with,” I add. “It extended to you too, Sadie and…” I pause, my eyes meeting hers because I want her to believe me when I tell her this. “And you cannot blame yourself for something you had no control over.”
“Can’t I?” Her words are a whisper, barely audible as she stares back at me, her eyes filled with tears.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “And being controlled by him, like you were,” I continue, “doesn’t make you weak either, because I know that’s also what you’re thinking. Men like Noel know exactly how to make the situation work for them. They know how to coerce, and they know how to target, and you shouldn’t ever blame yourself for being caught up in his shit. The man was supposed to love you for fuck’s sake and look at what he’s done to you.”
The tears stream silently down her cheeks now and I reach out and brush them away with my thumb, my heart breaking for how much this is hurting her.
“He assaulted people,” she whispers, her tears still falling. “Men and women. Silenced them with his money and his lawyers.”
I nod, but say nothing, waiting to see if she’ll continue.
“He forced people to do things they didn’t want to do,” she adds. “Nude scenes.”
I nod again, because this is stuff I’ve heard of, seen even, on one of the movies of his that I worked on. The stupid part about it was I didn’t even need to be on set that day because it was an interior scene they were shooting and there was no need for stunts.
But a part of me wonders now if this was yet another power play by Noel; not shutting down the set when they were filming scenes for which it would normally be closed. By allowing anyone and everyone to witness an actor at their most vulnerable, was is it yet another way he exerted his power and control over a situation.
The actress in question had been mortified. Even though she was experienced, she knew it was wrong. But every time she questioned Noel about it, he lost his shit, screaming at her to just do her fucking job and get on with it. Undermining her in front of the whole cast and crew.
When she’d eventually gotten through the scene, he’d then made matters worse by smacking a smug smile on his face and fawning all over her like it was the greatest piece of acting she’d ever done.
I always thought her managing not to throw up or punch him in the face was the most impressive part.
“He cheated,” she whispers, the words catching in her throat as a sob escapes.
I put my beer on the side table, before wrapping her in my arms and pulling her against me.
“But it wasn’t just that,” she says, talking through her tears. “He, he…fuck.”
“You don’t have to explain it,” I tell her, my lips against her temple.
“I do,” she says, nodding as she forces herself to take a deep breath. “What he did, it’s beyond anything I ever knew,” she says, her words coming in a rush now. “He used people, he manipulated them and he…”
Another sob falls from her throat, breaking my heart and wishing to fuck I could make all of this go away for her.
“He used sex for control…” she whispers, my body automatically tensing as I read between the lines and finally understand what she’s trying to tell me.
Rape.
“They’re not saying it was rape,” she says as though reading my mind. “But they all say it wasn’t something they could say no to.”
“Then it’s rape,” I say.
“It’s fucking awful,” she cries, burying her face against my chest.
I hold her tightly, neither of us saying anymore. Inside, my brain is running through all the possibilities for what this might mean. For Sadie, for her movie, for all the women caught up in this shit fight.
At the same time, I can’t help but think back to all the movies of his I worked on. To the things I saw, the things I heard about and all the times that me and others stayed silent. Silent because we were afraid, silent because we figured it wasn’t our fight.
None of that excuses it though, because all our silence did was enable his behavior to continue.
And all of this is exactly why Sadie feels at fault. Because while I might have seen only segments of this, she saw almost everything, even if she was also the one person he controlled the most.
Fuck, what a mess this is.
Eventually Sadie’s tears stop, and I feel her take another deep breath as she lifts her head from my chest. Looking down at her, I watch as she offers me a tiny smile as she swipes at her eyes, brushing away the last of her tears.
“You okay?” I ask, knowing it’s the dumbest question I can possibly ask at this time.
She shrugs. “No.”
I brush my fingers across her cheek, tucking strands of hair behind her ear. “It’s okay not to be, you know?” I tell her, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. “And it’s okay to ask for help too.”
Sadie nods, although I’m not sure if it’s in agreement or acknowledgement. “The story will be out in a few weeks,” she says. “Although he’s also talking about writing a book. He has that much material.”
I nod. “Tell me what you need to do, what you need me to do to help?”
She stares up at me, sadness in her eyes as she whispers, “Please don’t go anywhere.”
“Sadie,” I murmur. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
“I need you.”
Her words break my heart and I pull her to me again, pressing my lips to hers. “I’m here,” I tell her. “I’m here for you.”
We’ve been lying on the lounge chair together for an hour or so now. Sadie is no longer crying, but neither of us have spoken since she filled me in on what the reporter told her. I can’t even begin to imagine what she’s thinking or going through right now. It must be hell for her considering I currently want to kill the fucker she was once married too.
“Oh my god, Paul,” she suddenly says, sitting up a little straighter. “Your boot!” She turns to me, a look of surprise on her face as she points at my now uncast ankle.
Chuckling, I pull her back toward me. “Yeah, it’s gone.”
“Seriously, when did this happen?”
“Late this afternoon, after work,” I tell her.
Sadie sits up again, turning so she’s facing me. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks.
I shrug, smiling at her. “Wasn’t one hundred percent sure it was going to happen, but apparently the bone looks good, so yeah, it’s gone.”
“Paul, I’m so happy for you.”
I chuckle, pulling her closer again. “Yeah, I’m glad it’s off. Damn thing was so annoying.”
“You should’ve told me,” she says, her hand on my chest. “I could have, you know, come with you.”
“I know,” I say, nodding. “But I also know you had other stuff going on. Stuff that was important.”
Sadie nods. “So, what’s the plan now? Back to normal?”
“Well,” I say, pushing a hand through my hair. “No stunt work for a while still,” I tell her. “I need to do some rehab on the ankle for a few weeks, but basically, as long as there’s no pain, yep all back to normal.”
“Wow.”
I grin, as slip my legs over the side of the chair. “Yep, which also means,” I add, tightening my arms around her as I stand, picking her up with me. “I can finally do all the things I’ve only dreamed about doing with you.”
“Paul, shit,” she says, gripping my arm. “Be careful.”
Chuckling, I hoist her in my arms as I turn and walk us inside. “I’m good,” I say as I kiss her. “Or I will be as soon as I get you upstairs.”
Later, we’re lying in bed, Sadie’s head resting on my ches
t as I run my fingers up and down her spine. Her body is relaxed, her breathing slow and for the first time since I got back tonight, she seems at peace.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, her words breaking the silence.
Grinning, I slide my hand down to her ass. “Oh, pretty fucking good right now.”
Sadie laughs as she lifts her head, propping herself up on my chest. “No pain in the ankle?”
“Nope.”
“Didn’t hurt, you know, during…”
Laughing, I pull her closer for a kiss. “Nope, not at all.”
“Well that’s good,” she whispers, her mouth against mine.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, knowing what she’s going through far outweighs any issues I may have with my ankle.
She shrugs. “I don’t know,” she admits. “I’m not sure I’m ever going to feel okay about all this, but I do feel better knowing the truth will come out.”
“I think it’s pretty normal for you to feel this way,” I tell her, curling a strand of her hair around my fingers.
Sadie nods. “I asked Roger for a list of everyone who’s come forward about this,” she whispers, dropping her eyes as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth.
I tilt her face back to mine. “Why?”
She takes a deep breath, watching my face as she says, “I feel like I should reach out to them,” she admits. “Tell them I support them, even though I’m not sure…”
“Not sure of what?” I ask. “That they’ll believe you or want to hear from you?”
Sadie nods, that sadness back in her eyes again.
“You think they’re going to blame you somehow?”
She nods again.
“Did this Roger guy say they did?”
She shakes her head this time, but still doesn’t say anything.
“Sadie,” I say cupping her face in my hands. “I can’t even begin to imagine what any of this is like for you,” I start. “But I know that if anyone is going to know what these other women have gone through, it’s you. And they will know this too, just like they know what Noel’s like and how awful it must have been for you to live with that.” I pause, leaning up to kiss her. “No one will blame you for any of this.”
