“Geez, I haven’t even thought of that. I’m so sorry. I totally screwed up your day.”
“Don’t worry about that. Just put on some makeup. Trust me, it’s better you’re visible today and show off your sexy, charming self.”
“Right. I’m a train wreck.” With a heartfelt sigh, I picked up a tube of mascara. “What will I tell those who ask why Blake isn’t with me?”
“You say he’s too tired, or he has the flu, or whatever. The important thing is for you to make an appearance, and be sure to look your best.”
“Fat chance of that,” I muttered, gazing down at my wrinkled cardigan.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mark lived in a mansion the likes of which I’d only seen in Boogie Nights and other such movies. If I had to use one word to describe the lush vegetation and the white building beyond it, I would use ‘flamboyant’. Or ‘decadent’. The long driveway was jam-packed with expensive cars. As Sandra drove on looking for a place to park my Rover, I could hear the music blaring inside. The deep sunset made the lights glaring in every window seem brighter. I felt as though I was walking into a luxurious Parisian brothel.
We parked and climbed out of the car, then Sandra dragged me to the twin front doors. After a couple of steps I stopped, filled with panic and anxiety.
“Sandra, wait. I can’t do this,” I said, squeezing her hand. “I don’t want to. I should be with Blake right now. He must be out of his mind with worry.”
“We’ll give him a call after we leave. Half an hour, that’s all we need.” Seeing I wasn’t budging, she turned to face me. “Kendra, as your friend I truly think this is the best way for you to treat this situation. The more you hide, the more people will gossip. It’s like a doctor’s appointment,” she said, fluffing her hair. “The sooner you get it over with, the better. Then you realize it wasn’t that bad. Go in there, smile and chat, and if anyone mentions the story in the tabloids, just shrug, giggle and say it’s just one more dumped guy who’s trying to make a buck by spreading lies about the rich and the famous, only because in real life he’s a loser with a tiny dick.”
“Well, that much is true.”
“See? You don’t even have to lie!” she exclaimed, grinning. “Now, come on. Half an hour to laugh this crap off, then you’ll call Blake.”
I started walking again. Sandra was my friend. She only wanted to help, and if she thought this was the best way to resolve this mess, who was I to argue? It wasn’t as if I had a better plan.
I had to stop myself from gaping when we walked into the house. I don’t know which was more dizzying: the music—extra heavy on the bass, or the wall of people enveloping us from every direction. The room we stepped into seemed bigger than any theater, and every inch of it was full of men, women, and teenagers, of all shapes, races and ages. To my horror, I even spotted an alligator-sized lizard crawling on a sofa, next to a guy who was snorting some white powder off a coffee table. Next to him, two women were kissing and groping one another, only half dressed and getting more naked by the second. I stared in shock at this scene straight out of Sodom and Gomorrah, but no one else seemed to pay attention. I don’t suppose this was anything special in this palace of sin, where tonight anything was allowed.
Someone bumped me from behind, spilling the contents of his glass all over my back. I lost my grip on Sandra’s hand, then in a second I was swallowed by the crowd. Soaked in booze, I made my way through the mass of people, wondering what Sandra had been thinking. No one here had even heard of me, let alone cared what the tabloids wrote about me. I looked around for her, but she was nowhere in sight. I was on my own.
The best thing was for me to find a couple of people I knew, make sure they saw how fine and dandy I was, convince them the tabloid story was a big fib, then get the hell out of there. I frantically searched for a familiar face, trying to glide among the dancing people who surrounded me. My head was pounding from the loud music. Someone—a waiter or caterer—shoved a glass of champagne into my hand.
Providence must have heard my desperate inner shout for help, because suddenly I bumped into Denise. She was staggering from another corridor, holding a pink cocktail glass in one hand and a joint in the other. She was wearing a minuscule sparkly tank top and an even smaller skirt. It took me a couple of seconds to recognize her beyond the screaming slutty makeup, but when I did, I grabbed her arm and pulled her to one side.
“Hey, Denise, how are you doing?” I said, smiling brightly as I attempted to gauge how drunk or stoned she was. It wasn’t worth talking to her about the tabloid crap if she wasn’t going to remember anything the next morning.
“Heeey!” She stared bleary-eyed at me for a moment, then her eyes cleared a little. “Kendra, so glad you’re here, girlfriend! Come on, let’s par-tee!” she squealed, grabbing my arm and nearly burning me with the joint.
“No, wait. I... Just dropped by to say hi. Do you know where Mark is?”
She gazed around vacantly, as though expecting Mark to materialize from the walls. “Saw him at one time or another. Don’t know where he is now, but he’s a fucking excellent host, I’ll tell you that,” she said, waving the joint as a magic wand. Then she focused her gaze on me again. “Didn’t expect you to be here tonight.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I read that tabloid crap thingy. Not that anyone believes any of it,” she assured me, her speech a little slurred. “I mean, everyone thinks—and I agree—that you must be a firecracker in the sack, if Blake is so hooked on you. We all figured this wiener ex of yours is just insanely jealous and wants to make trouble for you. Like the serpent, you know.”
“Serpent?”
“Yeah, it’s in the Bible,” she said, peering down her nose at me. “This serpent guy, who turned out to be the devil, was trying to break off Adam and Eve. I guess he wanted Eve for himself,” she mused philosophically, taking a swig from her cocktail.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. I don’t know what kids nowadays learned in schools, but there had to be something wrong with the system. This was one Bible story I’d never heard.
“So, back to the point. Are you saying no one believes the story in the tabloids?” I asked, watching her insistently to capture her attention.
“’Course not! This is Hollywood, girl. You can’t possibly imagine what goes on around here, both in reality and fic-... fictionally,” she enunciated carefully. “I wouldn’t give it another thought if I were you.”
“Great. Thanks, Denise. Have fun!”
Before she could stop me, I escaped down the corridor the way she’d come. Maybe Sandra had a point, but I didn’t think I was going to find anyone sober here tonight, so any further efforts of saving face would be futile. I had to look for a way out, even if it meant climbing down a terrace vine. I was hoping for something less dramatic though, and in that hopeful spirit I opened the first door I came across. I regretted my decision immediately, because on the king sized bed was a naked couple—man and woman this time—in full copulation.
“Holy shit, holy crap!” I breathed, quickly closing the door behind me. I leaned against it for a moment, not sure if I was going to laugh, or cry, or both. The image of a hairy ass pumping away was burned into my retina. Surely one day this unfortunate adventure was going to be written for posterity in a book, but right now all I wanted was to get out of there and be with Blake.
“Something wrong?”
The voice coming from the darker end of the passage scared me out of my wits. The music wasn’t so loud here, so I was able to hear it clearly, even before I saw the man step out from the shadows. When I recognized him, it took all of my self-control to keep a poker face and not bang my head against the door.
“Danny. I didn’t expect to see you here,” I said, convinced my smile was faker than a pair of silicone boobs.
“I can say the same,” he replied, moving toward me, one eyebrow raised.
He looked as handsome as ever, dressed in a black silk shirt open at the neck
and tailored black slacks. He was holding an almost empty whiskey glass in one hand. As he approached me, the unfamiliar glint in his dark, slightly blurry eyes made me think he’d had more than one drink tonight.
“So, where’s your boyfriend? Don’t tell me he left you because of that mean piece in the newspaper?” He gave me a reptilian smile that made my skin crawl. “Did you come here tonight to kill the rumors?”
There was something in his demeanor that made me want to take a step back. Since I was still glued to the door, I shifted and moved a bit backward, trying not to make it obvious I was ready to flee.
“Surely you know by now you can never believe what you read in the tabloids,” I said, taking a casual sip from my champagne. “In fact, it was the other way around with Richard and I—not that it’s any of your business.”
He laughed shortly, taking another step that brought him face to face with me.
“I could’ve bet you’d say that. All women are the same, always ready to badmouth the men who dumped them. This Richard admitted to cheating on you, because you didn’t like sex. He said you were frigid.” His breath smelled strongly of alcohol when he leaned closer and whispered, “Are you?”
My heart was hammering a warning tune inside my chest, but my voice sounded cool enough when I replied, “That’s none of your business either.”
“Oh, I think it is,” he said, tracing a finger down my cheek. “That explains a lot of things, why you were both hot and cold whenever I got close to you. You want it, but you can’t enjoy it, is that it? I bet Mister Hot-Shot Tyler can’t make you even damp. I heard he’s a faggot.”
My cheeks were flaming with fury by now. Some unidentified instinct urged me to get away from him, immediately. I slapped his hand away.
“You’re drunk. I’m leaving.”
“The hell you are.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him so hard the champagne glass fell out of my hand. Danny threw his on the carpeted floor and pulled me close to him, whispering in my ear, “I’m going to show you what it’s like to be fucked by a real man. I’ve been wanting to do it for a long time, and you know what? I bet I can make you beg for more when I’m done.”
He clamped his hand on my jaw and pushed his tongue inside my mouth, cutting off the scream that remained trapped in my chest. I was frantically trying to free myself, but the more I struggled, the tighter he squeezed me. For the first time in my life I experienced true fear, as he dragged me deeper into the shadows. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. It was surreal, yet I’d never been so terrified.
I fought him as hard as I could, becoming more frightened by the second as I discovered how powerful he was. He had my hands trapped behind my back in an iron grip, and with his other hand he kept my head in place, forcing my mouth to bear his brutal kisses.
I still hoped he wasn’t going to do more than that, but when he opened the door to a room and shoved me inside, my terror was justified. One hard push sent me sprawling onto the bed, even though it was quite far from the door. In the strong fluorescent light I saw his face clearly as he turned the key in the lock and moved toward me. I knew then he was going to rape me.
Bracing myself, I let out a piercing cry for help, but to my horror, he only laughed and started to unbuckle his belt.
Walking toward me with the confidence of a predator, he said, “You can scream all you want. Do you really think someone will hear you? Or if they do, you think anyone here is sober enough to give a fuck?”
A sob escaped me. This couldn’t be happening to me, it couldn’t. I scrambled off the bed, hating myself for sounding so scared.
“Danny, please, what are you doing? I thought you were my friend. Please, stop this!”
In two strides he was next to me. The next moment he backhanded me so hard I landed back on the bed. It took a few seconds for my dazed brain to register the pain. When it did, I almost fainted. One corner of my mind remained lucid enough to wonder how a single blow can hurt so much. Where was the adrenaline one was supposed to produce in such moments? I’d always believed that, if a woman is attacked, there’s always something she can do, like hit her rapist in the testicles, scratch, fight, anything to keep it from happening. I always had arguments for those who claimed a man’s physical strength surpassed a woman’s by far, no matter how strong she was.
Yet here I was, numbed by pain and fear, able only to utter pitiful sounds, as Danny bent over me and tore off my T-shirt. I wasn’t wearing a bra, so in a second my breasts were bare and defenseless. Like in a nightmare, my legs felt rubbery, my entire body weak, unable to coordinate. I was helpless, and he knew it.
“Do something!” my mind screamed. “For God’s sake, don’t let this happen!”
He was groping my breast mercilessly, hurting me. His knee had separated my thighs, and he was savagely tugging my jeans down. He’d already unzipped his pants. In a moment it would be too late. I had to do something now.
I managed to yank one hand from his grip and raked my fingernails down his face as hard as I could. At the same time, I let out an almighty scream. That made him really mad. Through streaming eyes I saw him grit his teeth. He raised his hand to hit me again, and I thought, “This is it. I simply can’t stop him. He can do anything he wants to me, and I can’t stop him.”
I closed my eyes, expecting the blow, the unbearable pain. My cheekbone throbbed agonizingly. But instead of another hit, I heard a booming crash. The next moment, the door was practically torn into pieces and Blake burst into the room like an avenging angel. He took in the situation in a nanosecond, then he lunged at Danny, pulling him off me and hurling him against a table. It splintered under his weight, then Blake threw himself at Danny.
I curled on the bed, hugging the remains of my cardigan around me and yanking up my jeans. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t stop this fight. Blake had murder in his blazing eyes. In all honesty, seeing him pound his fists into Danny’s face, seeing the blood gush filled me with animalistic joy. I wanted Danny to die.
But the thought of the consequences Blake would face if he killed him forced me to my feet and out in the corridor to yell for help. I must have looked like a wild jungle woman, dashing into the party room and grabbing the first three men I saw. They stared at me puzzled as I dragged and begged them to follow me, gesticulating incoherently. I don’t know how I managed to bring them back to the room where Blake and Danny were, but as soon as the three strangers grasped the situation, they stepped in. It took all three of them to pull Blake off Danny and restrain him. His raw knuckles were dripping blood, and there was such fury on his face I knew it was going to give me nightmares. Danny was on the floor, not moving, his face unrecognizable.
“Jesus, please call an ambulance,” I cried out, gripping the arm of the man nearest to me.
I left him to dial the emergency number on his cell phone, then gathered up my courage and turned to Blake. When he saw me, he yanked himself from the other two men’s hands and rushed to take me into his arms.
“Kendra, has he hurt you? What happened?” He took my shoulders, staring wildly into my eyes. “Tell me what he’s done.”
We were both breathing hard, hanging on to one another, trembling uncontrollably. All at once, my legs wouldn’t support me anymore. I slid down to the floor, desperately hugging Blake, dragging him down with me. I shook my head, with my face buried in his chest.
“No, he hasn’t... You made it in time. Oh, God, Blake, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come here,” I said, crying so violently my entire body was shaking.
“Why the hell did you? Where were you all day? I’ve been frantic, damn it! If Sandra hadn’t called to tell me you were here, I would have gone mad with worry.”
I lifted my eyes to his, imploring him to understand, to forgive me.
“She called you? Did she tell you why... why I ran away?”
He gazed at me for a long moment, before lifting a bloody hand to smooth my hair. “She did.”
I lowered my
eyes in shame, but lifted them again when he went on, “I’m going to tell you what I told her. You’re an idiot to let yourself affected by a dickless asshole. How could you ever think that absurd article would change my opinion of you, or stop me from loving and wanting you?”
I gave a small shrug. “I... I didn’t know how to react. I was so humiliated...”
A group of men and women dashed into the room, curious to see what had happened. One of them was checking Danny’s pulse. I heard him say he was alive but would probably need reconstructive surgery on his face. The thought filled me with a savage satisfaction.
Blake’s eyes darted toward the motionless body, then back at me. “You’d better tell me what the hell happened here tonight. Start from when you fled the house this morning, and make sure you don’t omit anything.”
****
A long while later, in the wee hours of the morning, we were back at Blake’s house. I was cuddled up in bed, with Blake on one side, Duke on the other, and an ice pack over my cheek. Never in my life had I felt so exhausted, so rattled, so empty. I knew the trauma of Danny’s attempt to rape me was going to leave deep traces in my soul.
“Well, at least we’ll be making new headlines by tomorrow,” Blake said, stroking my forehead gently.
I took his bruised hand and kissed the swollen knuckles. “I’m so sorry, Blake. If it weren’t for my stupidity, none of this would have happened.”
“Don’t talk nonsense. Gonzales is a born sexual predator. He belongs in jail, although I wish you didn’t have to go through that to make sure he gets there.”
“His lawyer threatened to press charges against you. They don’t know yet how bad the damage to his face is.”
“Oh, please. It breaks my heart.”
Celebrity Page 21
