by Moore, M. K.
He tortures me for hours before he finally slides inside of me.
“God, Mallory. You were made just for me. You feel that, don’t you?”
“I feel it.” I do feel it. I feel it with every fiber of my being.
The following morning, I am running very late. Alarms and I don’t get along. We only have four days of filming left, weather permitting.
When I get there, Lana is standing outside, throwing up. Lance is rubbing her back and holding her hair. It’s just about the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen that didn’t involve Malachi and me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Something I ate.”
“Yeah right. Tell me,” I say, putting my hands on my hips and looking down at her.
“I’m pregnant,” she says finally.
“No way. Me too.” I say excitedly.
“I’d be way more excited about the fact that we both are knocked up if this wasn’t the fourth time I’ve puked this morning.” She gives me a weird half smile-half snarl.
“Who is the father?” I whisper to Lana, not wanting Lance to overhear.
“My husband,” she says, smiling.
“Your husband?”
“Oh, yeah. I got married, like six months ago. Right, Lance?”
“Yeah, something like that, Sunshine,” Lance says as he rubs her back.
“You … you married Lance?” I sputter. “You couldn’t manage to speak two words to him when you met.”
“I know, but Lance is magical.” She smiles shyly at her husband.
“You are going to have to tell me all about it, later. Are you done throwing up?” I ask.
“Yeah, I think so … for now. I just need to brush my teeth, then I am ready to go again.
“Are you sure, Sunshine? I’m sure we can halt filming for another hour so you can take a nap.”
“Nope. I’m all good. It’s amazing how much better I feel once I puke. Did you feel that way Mal?”
“Um. No. I didn’t get morning sickness.”
Her eyes narrow in on me when her tone is playful. “You bitch. That’s pretty much all I have done. I feel terrible that I just did it on set.”
“I was really nauseous if that makes you feel any better.”
“It kinda does,” she says, laughing as she and Lance walk off toward her trailer.
When I round the corner, I certainly don’t expect to find Jacob, my bodyguard and Marissa making out like the world just ended and they are the only survivors, but there they are, getting it on. I back away slowly, not wanting to interrupt.
Smiling, I wonder: is the whole world pairing off?
Chapter 14
Malachi
Mallory doesn’t seem as concerned as I am about the constant threat she’s under. I’ve lain awake every night for weeks worrying about it. The film finally wrapped up shooting and Mallory has been home. Home, where I can keep her safe. She has been writing more this week than I have ever seen her. It’s nice and comforting.
“What are you doing over there?” I ask. She keeps sighing, so I have to ask.
“Going through edits,” she says sourly.
“Is there a lot?” I ask.
“Yes, she marked up the whole book. Too much this and not enough of that. I am just annoyed. Ignore me.”
“Okay,” I say, laughing. I go back to the emails I have been sorting through for a client. It’s actually Lana, but I haven’t told Mallory because I didn’t want her to freak out. She has a stalker. The kind of stalker that likes to break in and steal dirty laundry. It really is only a matter of time before he escalates. About an hour later, I’ve found him.
“Fuck yes,” I say out loud, startling Mallory.
“What?” she asks, her hand over her heart.
“I’ve found the fucker. I have to go in to the office for a little while. Are you good here for a while?”
“I’m actually going to go to the store. I want steak and Caesar salad for dinner. Does that sound good to you?”
“Sounds perfect. Take Jacob with you,” I say, putting my wallet in my back pocket.
“Do I have to? I haven’t heard from my stalker in weeks. Maybe he got bored with me.”
“Yes, you need to take him with you. He’s probably biding his time.”
“Alright. I’ll take him with me.”
“I’ll be home around six.”
“Okay, I’ll have dinner ready by then.”
“I love you.” I walk over to her desk and kiss her.
“I love you too. Have a good day at the office, dear,” she says, laughing. I can’t help laughing as well.
I grab my laptop and head out to the office, but I have to make a quick stop in Harlem first. Fuck, traffic is a nightmare. The Eros Security firm is located on Hudson Street in Lower Manhattan. It’s in a twenty-story glass building. Eros takes up the top three floors. I get into the private elevator and take it up to the twentieth floor.
Frank Hunter was in the Army with me many years ago and is much older than I am. He’s a good man and an even better soldier. This is what he decided to do with his retirement.
I knock briskly on the glass door of his office. He’s on the phone but he waves me in. I open the door and move to sit in one of the two chairs opposite his desk.
“Right, I will give you a call later in the week, Britney. Great. Thanks.” he says, hanging up. “What’s up, Malachi? It’s good to see you.”
“I found Lana Blair’s stalker.”
“Is it who we thought?” he asks.
“Yep. Chad Beesley. He is routing his emails through an apartment in Harlem. I checked. The family that lives there didn’t even know internet had been installed. Their building has wi-fi that they use exclusively. No need for private access,” I say.
“So, we got nothing is what you are telling me?”
“Not nothing. I also know where the signal is originating from. A hotel in Midtown. The Ashcroft. The owner of the building let me hook up my laptop to the random router mixed in with the cable boxes. I think we can add an additional count of breaking and entering.”
“Excellent. I can send someone down there to pick him up and take him to the local precinct.”
“Sounds good,” I say, standing. I shake Frank’s hand and see myself out.
When I get home, the front door is ajar. Stepping inside, I see that Jacob is knocked out cold by the door. My hand automatically reaches for my sidearm, but I haven’t even held a gun in almost nine months. Fuck. I quickly check my surroundings, but I don’t immediately see anything I can use as weapon aside from my crutch. Walking further in, I finally see my girl. Her face is bleeding. It’s already swollen and bruising. There are tears streaming down her face. Chad is looking crazy. Unwashed and crazy. He has a gun, but it’s not pointed at Mallory at this time.
“You think you can tell me no, and then get me fired, bitch?”
“I didn’t get you fired, you fucking douche. You did that all on your own when you knocked out your female co-star.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. That kind of shit is what gets you killed.
“She was asking for it. Imagine my surprise when two stuck up bitches told me no.”
“You were a spoiled child, weren’t you?” I normally love Mallory’s spit fire attitude but in this moment, this man is bat shit crazy and I am scared for my wife and babies.
“Quite the opposite actually,” Chad replies and in his tone, he is escalating.
“So, your sense of entitlement comes from your fame?”
“You could say that.”
Good job baby. Now we’re getting somewhere. Keep him talking. Distract him. I focus all my anger on Chad. He inches closer to Mallory and I inch closer to him.
I can tell Mallory sees me when she tries to school her features, but it’s too late. Chad spins around, gun raised. I can tell from here that he has the safety on.
“Who the fuck is this?” Chad demands of Mallory.
“My husband, asshole.”
<
br /> “This guy is your husband? The reason you wouldn’t go out with me?”
“Yup. One and the same,” she says, smiling.
“He’s not as good looking as me. Plus, he’s crippled,” he says. What a fucking douchebag. I am using my crutch today, as my blade needed adjusting.
“Delusional,” Mallory says, rolling her eyes.
“What did you say, bitch?”
“You. Are. Delusional. Are you deaf too?” I was not expecting him to bring the butt of the gun down hard on her forehead. When she crumples to the floor, I see red and lose it. I charge after him. I hit him with my crutch once, causing him to drop to his knees. I toss it to the side. I tackle him the rest of the way to the floor then sit on his chest. I punch his face repeatedly.
“How fucking dare you touch my wife,” I yell, continuing to punch him.
“Get the fuck off of me man,” he says, wheezing.
“That’s for Lana, too, you sick fuck. You get off on hurting women.” I’m not saying anything that isn’t true.
“Fuck you,” he says, spitting blood on me.
“Fuck you,” I shout back. I can’t stop hitting him. It’s like a dam has broken inside of me.
The actor’s face is bloody and unrecognizable by the time the police get there. Jacob is awake and alert enough to pull me off of him. The skin on my knuckles is gone and I am bleeding as well. We are both placed in handcuffs and escorted off the property while Mallory is put in an ambulance. She hasn’t woken up yet, which is cause for worry.
“My wife is pregnant,” I yell over to the EMT from where I am being all but dragged to a squad car.
“How far along?” the EMT shouts back.
“Seventeen weeks. Twins.”
“She’ll be in good hands, Mr. Goranson.”
That’s all I can ask for right now. I nod and duck my head into the car.
Jail is nothing like I thought it would be. Sure, it was just a city lock-up but, still.
Seventy-Two of the longest hours of my life later, my father-in-law is standing next to me while I sign my release papers.
“Are you alright, Malachi?” he asks, clapping a hand on my shoulder.
“I’m fine. You should see the other guy. How is Mallory? They wouldn’t tell me anything.”
“I did see, it’s all over the news. She’s fine. She’s already at home.”
“Are the babies okay?”
“Yes. They are just fine.”
“Thank God,” I say, collecting my personal effects from the manila envelope.
“So, how was the pokey?”
“Fine,” I say shrugging. “Very Law and Order. No charges filed.”
“That’s good. Since the incident, women have been coming out of the woodwork. He’s a rapist on top of everything else.”
“Jesus,” I say, though I am not surprised.
“You did good, Malachi. Real good.”
“I failed. Mallory still got hurt,” I say, feeling sorry about the whole situation.
“She’s alive and he’s off the streets.”
“Agree to disagree,” I say, walking out of the station.
I get in Eddie’s car, a vintage 1969 Mustang. It’s black and in mint condition.
“Did you restore this yourself?” I ask, trying to kill time before my girl is back in my arms, where she belongs.
“Sure did. Mallory and I worked on it every weekend before she started writing her lady porn.” I laugh my first real laugh in days.
“That sounds fun, both the restoration and the lady porn,” I say, feeling more like myself.
“It was, until she got famous for writing said lady porn. I can’t even look my friends in the eye. I know they’ve read it,” he says so seriously that I can’t help laughing. He pulls up to the building but doesn’t shut the car off.
“You coming up?” I ask.
“No, RayJanae is waiting for me at home. We’ve been here all day. I think they were getting on each other’s nerves.” I laugh again.
“Thanks for picking me up, I’ll see you later.”
I rush through the paparazzi without answering questions. I wave to Thomas and Jake and get in the open elevator. Jacob is once again by the door, no worse for the wear. I shake his hand and head inside. Once inside, I make a beeline for the bedroom.
“Mallory?” I ask as I walk in.
“Malachi?” she asks, sitting up in bed.
“Are you alright? I fucking missed you,” I say before awkwardly crawling into bed and kissing her.
“I’m okay. Your hands,” she says after pulling back from the kiss and rubbing her fingers over the bandages across my knuckles. I move to sit on the edge of the bed and kick my shoes off. I slide my pants down and remove my leg.
“Oh my God, baby. Your leg.” It’s red, raw, and angry looking. “Were you able to take it off at all?” she asks, getting out of bed and kneeling before me.
“I didn’t want to seem weak.” Sure, it was just a squad room lockup but I’ve sure as shit never been in jail before. “A queen doesn’t kneel,” I say, trying to lift her, but she jerks from my hold.
“She does for her king,” she says smirking up at me. Her words are my undoing. To think that a woman as strong as she is thinks I am her king makes me feel a thousand feet tall.
“Fuck, you are gorgeous,” I reply.
“Oh baby,” she cries. She is already rubbing lotion onto my leg. It was pure instant relief when the leg came off, but this is heaven. I know I won’t be using it for the next few days.
“God, that feels good,” I say wiping her tears. She is always crying for me and I don’t like it.
“I can’t believe you went to jail for me,” she says, still tending to my limb.
“Oh Jez, don’t you know by now that I would do anything for you? Beating a man to a bloody pulp is nothing. I would kill for you.”
“Why is that so hot?” she asks, and I shrug my shoulders.
“Could it be you are a murderous little thing?”
“Yeah, a little thing with a fat ass.”
“I love that ass, baby.”
“Oh, I know you do,” she says, climbing up into my lap.
“Tell me what the doctor said.” I ask, changing the subject.
“The babies are fine, still right on track. Dr. Mayer met me at the hospital. I don’t know how she knew so quickly. I was awake by the time we got there.”
The one phone call thing in jail is a myth. I called both Eddie and Dr. Mayer, then I called my lawyer. Well, he’s technically Mallory’s contract attorney but she has him on retainer, so he came down to help me out.
“That’s good.”
“I hated sleeping without you, Malachi. It was hard.”
“I know, baby.” I say, kissing her forehead.
“I never want to do that again.”
“Neither do I.”
We don’t have sex, instead we take a shower together and then I lay awake all night. I stew over the thoughts I’ve been having. I can’t help that my mind goes to the worst-case scenario, but it does, and it keeps me awake more than I’d like to admit. I cradle her to my chest. I listen to her even breathing as I drift off to sleep.
I vow to never take her for granted. She is my whole damn world.
Chapter 15
Mallory
That shit with Chad was crazy. I am glad that his trial didn’t go the way he expected. Guilty on five counts of rape and one count of kidnapping. A fifty-five-year prison sentence when all was said and done. I haven’t breathed such a huge sigh of relief since the night he and Malachi were arrested. The press was all over Malachi and me once the whole story got out.
I think that there is something wrong with me. I am sitting in bed writing but all I want to do is sleep. My belly is huge now. My belly button is a thing of horror films. It’s June, I’m hot and I can’t stand clothes or sheets touching my body for long periods of time. I am so ready for it to be September. Malachi can’t get enough of me and, if I’
m being honest, I can’t get enough of him either. I feel like at this point all I do is eat, sleep, and have sex with my husband. I guess I could be doing worse things though.
Malachi left for the office a few minutes ago. He has been going down there a couple times a week to use their equipment for something. The only thing he’s private about is his work, and I get that. Otherwise, he is an open book.
I save my document, close my laptop, and I get up from the coolness of my sheets to stretch. I throw on my robe and head for the kitchen. Food is the first order of business. These babies are starving. I am constantly rubbing my stomach. It helps alleviate the pains from stretching and growing tiny humans. I can’t believe people are giving the new British/American princess flack about her constant belly rubbing in public. Fucking trolls ruin everything nice in life.
I find Jacob sitting at the kitchen counter.
Malachi decided that Jacob should remain with us. He lives somewhere in the building, but I have no idea where.
“Good morning, Jacob. Marissa and I would like to go shopping today. In New Jersey. There is a cute baby boutique my cousin told me about,” I say, putting two pieces of bread in the toaster.
“No problem, Mrs. Goranson.” I roll my eyes. I hate when anyone—aside from Malachi—calls me that. The toast pops up and I butter both pieces. I go to town on the first one but eat the second more slowly.
“Mallory, please. I’ve asked you a million times to call me by my name. You call Malachi by his name.”
“That’s because we are friends,” he says casually.
“Are we not friends?” I ask with my mouth full.
“We can’t be. I can’t effectively guard you if we are friends.”
“I call bullshit.”
“You can make out with my friend while you are supposed to be guarding me, but you can’t call me Mallory?”
“You saw that, huh?”
“Oh yeah, I saw that,” I say, smiling. “So, you and Marissa?”
“Yeah, she is pretty great.”
“You love her, don’t you?”
“I do. I just need to tell her that,” he says.
“That’s good. I get the feeling she’s been through something, though she hasn’t said yet.”
