He had a point.
Not that she wanted to admit it out loud.
She’d been completely traumatized.
Hurt.
And betrayed. So betrayed. Because he’d promised to save her, and the image that she’d always had of him, the pedestal she’d put him on, had shattered in front of her eyes the day she realized that he wasn’t her prince.
He was a monster.
She’d fallen in love with the bad guy.
And the thought terrified her.
The blood on his hands terrified her.
He terrified her.
“Zoe.” Dane reached for her hands. “I will never apologize for keeping you in this world, for using every ounce of power and money I have to make sure that you succeed. I won’t apologize for loving you beyond all reason. Don’t ask me to. I’d rather you slit my throat.”
She flinched. “Overkill, Dane.”
He squeezed her hand and then flipped it over and pressed her palm to his chest. “The only reason I think this still exists, still beats in my body, is because I have you to ground me. You matter. You will always matter.”
“Love isn’t control, Dane.”
“It’s the only way I know how to love,” he said quickly. “All or nothing. There is no in between. That’s not life, and that’s not how people should love, with only part of their souls or just when it’s easy and pretty. Love is ugly, it’s painful, it’s full of sorrow, long days, terror-filled nights. Love asks for everything and nothing all at once. I love the only way a person should love. With every part of me that’s tethered to this universe.”
Zoe could feel his warmth through his shirt, could count the beats of his heart, and still, she wasn’t sure if she could trust him. Didn’t know if she could trust herself with him. He was the sort of man that would ask for every single part of her. She knew the risks.
She also knew she was safer without him—her heart, especially.
“It’s late.” She started to shake. “We should go back… home.”
It was an olive branch, the only thing she really had as she held out her hand to him.
Dane took it and then kissed her fingertips. “Whatever you need.”
She tilted her head at his blank expression. It was so easy for him to confess his love and then pull the mask over his features. In that moment, she wondered if there was more humanity in him than he claimed. Because for a second, it almost looked like he was hurt.
It was nearing midnight.
Everlee had wanted to go home, and the last thing that Brittany wanted to do was leave her friend, but Everlee had wanted to process things. She claimed she was fine, even though her face said she might not ever be okay again.
And then something shifted in the air as Everlee shot a determined look at both Brittany and Zoe before she got into the waiting car that Dane had called.
Brittany knew that look well.
She’d worn the exact same one the last time she’d been a patient at this hospital. It was the look of a woman changed, but someone who refused to let it alter who she was and what she fought for.
Pain stabbed Brittany in the chest as she took a step toward Everlee. She’d even opened her mouth, ready to confess it all, prepared to tell her that she understood loss, could empathize with the feeling of having something that’s yours, only to have it taken away.
It had been Brittany’s choice.
It wasn’t Everlee’s.
What a cruel, cruel world.
Zoe turned to Brittany. “I’ll see you at the shoot on Friday?”
Brittany had almost completely forgotten about the shoot with Ronan. Great, just one more thing she had to explain to Oliver. She felt like the weight of the world was on her shoulders, maybe because between caring for her friends, Ronan, and Oliver, she felt like she was barely keeping her head above water.
“Yeah.” She found her voice. “I appreciate that.”
Dane leaned in and pressed a kiss to Brittany’s forehead then grabbed Zoe’s hand and led her to his waiting black SUV.
The strange part was that Dane didn’t let go.
He held Zoe like she was his.
Which made Brittany wonder if more was going on where they were concerned.
Her eyes narrowed as they got into the car. The doors slammed. A chilly wind picked up, and leaves danced across the pavement.
She squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled the crisp air.
And thought about that day again, one much like today. A day she would never forget.
“Dane…” Brittany burst into tears. “He’s not coming, he’s not coming.” She couldn’t stop repeating herself, and the more she heard her own scared voice, the more psychotic she felt.
He wasn’t coming.
Not for her.
Not for them.
She had no one.
No peace.
Nothing.
She didn’t know what to do.
She was too young.
She didn’t even have enough money to support herself, let alone the baby sleeping soundly next to her while she silently cried.
The nurse made her way back in, took one look at Dane, and turned around.
“Wait!” Brittany called. “Stay. You can stay, he’s a friend.”
She looked at Dane and could understand the nurse’s reaction. Dane may seem young, but he was no less terrifying or willing to break every law imaginable for those he loved.
At the moment, he was setting a world record for how many curse words a man could say in less than sixty seconds. The nurse’s eyes widened as he paced in front of her and then ran his hands through his hair. “He didn’t come?”
“No.” She pointed to the note she refused to touch, the paper sitting right next to the list she and the girls all had copies of, the one that she’d given to Ronan the day she’d given him her body and heart.
The list he’d given back.
“He sent this instead.”
More cursing.
Brittany squeezed her eyes shut. “Just tell me what to do.”
Dane sat down on the bed and reached for her hand, engulfing it in his. “I can’t tell you what to do because I’m not you. I can, however, give you options. I can give you as many as you want. Say it, and I’ll make it happen. Just stop crying. I can’t handle it when any of you cry. I don’t have much of my soul left, but it feels like its clawing at my chest every single time I see a tear fall.” He swiped the moisture from under her eyes. “We’re going to think about this logically, not emotionally, and then we’re going to make a decision.”
She nodded as more tears pooled.
“Have you named her?” He stared at the baby as if he’d never seen one before. His eyes lit up with wonder. “Look at all that hair.”
“She takes after me.” Brittany found her voice again. “And I was afraid if I named her…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it.
But she wanted to claim this little girl.
She wanted to be a mother.
But she was so young. Her career was exploding. What would she do? Move home and be a single parent? She had less than a year to get ready for Spring Fashion Week. Less than a year before the catwalk.
“Britt.” Dane’s voice was low. “There are thousands of people that can’t have children.”
She knew what he was saying.
“But I’m her mom,” she argued. “She’ll think I abandoned her. She’s used to my voice, and my heartbeat, she’s used to my smell, she’s—” A fitful sob erupted from her mouth while the nurse watched from her side of the room. To her credit, she didn’t move, just waited for them to make a decision.
“Shhh.” Dane rocked Brittany back and forth, kissing her head as he held her in his arms. “You will always be her mother. Always. Nobody can take that from you. But are you ready for what that word means right now? As a teenager?”
“No,” she admitted against his chest. “I’m not.”
He released her and stood, then pick
ed up the gorgeous baby girl and rocked her much the same way he had with Brittany. “I’ll take care of the adoption. I’ll call my lawyer right now, get the paperwork expedited. You need to heal. I’ll give you access to one of the apartments. You can stay there until you feel better.”
“Really?” She couldn’t believe how easy he made it all sound. Even though her heart was breaking, he was treating it like a business transaction. His demeanor was calm, his voice strong.
“Brittany, it’s going to be okay.”
“Why does it feel like my heart is breaking?” she asked.
The nurse chose that moment to walk up to her. She didn’t say anything, just grabbed her hand and held it. And hours later, when Brittany was exhausted, when everything was finished.
When she was empty.
She looked down into her clutched hand and saw a tiny note.
All things.
Not some things.
All things work together for His good.
And inside the note was a lock of her daughter’s hair.
“Hey,” Oliver’s voice jolted her from the memory. “Sorry, I had to finish up some paperwork. Why don’t I take you home?”
Brittany nodded but couldn’t move her feet.
And then the tears came.
Tears for her.
Tears for Everlee.
Tears for the daughter Brittany had never known.
Oliver pulled her into his arms immediately. “It’s okay, she’s going to be okay.”
That only made her cry harder.
Because all she’d wanted that day in the hospital was for someone like Oliver to hold her and tell her that everything would be okay.
And as the wind picked up around their bodies, as he held her close and whispered in her ear, she wondered if God was giving her another chance to heal from the past.
“I’m sorry.” She sniffled. “It’s just been a really long day.”
“I know.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “What can I do to make you feel better?”
“The hug was nice.” She smiled through her tears.
“It’s a well-kept secret that I’m better at hugs than surgery… shhh,” he teased. “Seriously, she’s going to be fine. I’ll give her the number of one of our therapists if she needs someone to talk to.”
Brittany let out a sigh. “Thank you for being there for her. For us.”
“That’s what friends do.”
She frowned, tilting her head. “Friends?”
He smirked down at her. “Don’t look so insulted… I’ve always wanted to date my friend. It’s actually been a fantasy of mine to marry my best friend. Shouldn’t all relationships start that way?”
She gaped. “Uh, yes?”
“Are you asking me?” He laughed and pulled her in for a side hug as they started walking through the parking lot. “I’ve always believed that when you date someone, you should be looking for someone who sees into your soul and doesn’t run away screaming. Someone who gets you for you and doesn’t judge you for having weaknesses. It should be a partnership. If you base everything off of attraction alone, you’ll end up sorely disappointed in the future. Dating shouldn’t be practice for breakup after breakup. So, if I didn’t see something I liked in you as a friend, I can assure you I wouldn’t already be planning our next date in my head and hoping that I can at least kiss you once.”
Brittany almost stumbled in her heels. “Wow, those are some pretty big promises for a guy who hugs better than he cuts into human bodies.”
“You got me there.” Oliver stopped walking and pulled her against him. “Just in case there was any question, I’m okay with slow. In fact, I prefer it because I don’t want to miss the important things just because I can’t keep my hands off you.”
Warmth rose from her neck and filled her face. “I’m not sure how to respond to that.”
“You say something like…” He switched to a falsetto. “‘Wow, Oliver, how respectful of you, you’re a really great guy. You know what would be fantastic? Another date. Oh, wait, you already have something planned? Great, pick me up at eight.’”
“You would have sold me on that had you not tried to say it in a high-pitched voice.” Brittany burst out laughing, tears long gone.
He winced. “Right, but I was already committed, so I had to keep going.”
“Are you blushing?”
“Me? What? No. Men don’t blush.” He teased. “That’s not a thing.”
“You sure about that?”
“You should get to bed, it’s late.” He opened the door to his Benz. “Your carriage, my lady.”
“The tips of your ears are red.”
“Lies.” He leaned forward and brushed a soft kiss across her lips. “Oh, look at that, now yours are, too. Guess we’re even.” He shut the door before she could protest.
And she smiled the entire way to her apartment.
Everlee held the pills in her right hand, the same one that had been pressed against her belly when she found out that she was pregnant, waiting for a flutter, a kick—anything.
She had enough sleeping pills to make it fast.
What was so hard about falling asleep anyway?
You just closed your eyes, and the pain went away—physical, mental, emotional.
She’d taken a shower because even in her death, she wanted to look pretty for her funeral. Nothing but the best for Frederick’s wife.
It would be her final way to hurt him.
Let the world know it was fake.
That he didn’t love her.
He loved the idea of what they looked like. He liked their appearance. He enjoyed the attention.
She’d seen all the signs and had ignored them because it had been enough… until it wasn’t. Until she’d experienced joy for the first time in years.
Joy that he’d still found a way to steal from her.
She blamed him because she had nobody else to blame, and blaming herself just made her shake that much harder.
The mirror didn’t lie.
Her skin was pale.
Gaunt.
Her silk nightgown hung loosely on a model-thin frame that still, at her height, looked nothing like she’d let herself go, no matter what Frederick said.
The front door opened and closed.
She stared at her reflection.
Let him come in and see her.
Let him know.
She wasn’t sure how long she stared at herself in the mirror, battling demon after demon, wondering if this were how it was supposed to end. Hurting him because he’d destroyed every part of her. It was like she finally realized how damaged and damaging their relationship had been. All the times he’d taken her, and she’d cried herself to sleep. All the moments she’d seen him touching other women, girls.
The signs had been there.
And she’d ignored them.
Right down to the models who hung on his every word. Young women who didn’t know that it wasn’t normal for a photographer to caress a girl in that way. They’d all had stars in their eyes over him, willing to do anything to get ahead.
Just like she had been.
Footsteps neared.
But it wasn’t Frederick that came into the bathroom several minutes later. It was Dane.
He locked eyes with her in the mirror and very slowly approached. His warm hand closed around her wrist as he dumped the pills into the trash can he held up, and then he slowly turned her in his arms.
She searched his eyes. “I hate him.”
“Good,” he whispered. “Use it.”
“What?”
“Don’t let him destroy you, too.” Dane tilted her chin up. “You can rise above this. You will rise above this. We all have our things, Everlee. Life doesn’t promise to be fair. We aren’t protected from pain just because we have money and fame. If anything, it makes you a bigger target, doesn’t it? The mighty fall farther, harder. Don’t let him win.” He leaned down and whispered, “Choose to live.”
“I don’t know if I can—”
“Choose,” Dane urged and gritted his teeth as he grabbed her by the shoulders. “Don’t put your friends through this. Don’t put me through this. God, Everlee, don’t make me bury you like I did my sister.”
Everlee jolted and then burst into tears. “It hurts so bad! It hurts!”
“So, let it hurt!” Dane roared. “Let it burn, Everlee. Scream, yell, destroy your apartment, throw something. Let yourself feel. Because the opposite of that isn’t living—you may as well be dead.”
She collapsed against him. “I know he’s cheating. I know he’s been cheating. I think… I’ve seen some pictures. I’ve looked at his camera when he’s sleeping. They’re provocative and, I don’t know, I just have this horrible feeling… I saw one of an underage girl, topless. My gut tells me something’s wrong. Something’s been wrong for a very long time. I was just too scared to admit it.”
“Is there a reason for that?”
She was quiet and then said, “Because I was one of those girls, the ones he seduced. Only I did everything in my power to win him over. And when I did, when he proposed, I thought, this is it, this is it. He loves me.”
Dane sighed and kept listening.
“But it was just a business transaction to him; it didn’t mean anything. I thought it meant a husband, a family, a life. He thought it meant a shiny label to add to his glowing resume: loving husband.” She shook her head as anger filled her lungs, burning with each breath. “I’ll send you everything.”
Dane exhaled. “My hacker’s going to put a Trojan program on your system that will unlock any hidden files as well as hack his passwords. It’s undetectable, untraceable… we’ll see what he’s been doing. If he’s cheating, you simply serve him divorce papers and take everything you can. If he’s… if he has pictures of underage girls, if—”
“You don’t have to say it,” Everlee said in a cold voice. “Consider it done. I’ll be home all day tomorrow.”
Fashion Jungle Page 18
