by Marci Fawn
Soon he slides his fingers around my waist and begins to work my clit in the way that he knows I like. I watch my face contort in pleasure in the mirror as I feel the orgasm starting to creep up my body. I look kind of sexy, seductive, cuter than I thought I would at any rate, and as the waves of pleasure rock through me, I watch Nate lose it too, looking the hottest I’ve ever seen him, and I wonder if anything will ever feel as good as this does. I wonder if we’ll ever get to be this free with one another again.
I collapse into Nate’s arms, too exhausted to move, but luckily Nate still has enough energy to get me up the stairs and into bed. He tucks me under the cool, cotton sheets, stroking my hair as my brain slowly starts to wind down.
“I love you,” he whispers, sliding in on his side. I curl up under his arm, feeling safe as his heart beats next to me. Nothing and no one has ever made me feel the security that Nate does, and I really hope I don’t lose that. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through.”
“This isn’t your fault,” I murmur sleepily. “You’ve done nothing wrong.” Sure, he probably shouldn’t have beaten up Cole, but there’s no point in saying that now.
Plus, I do feel an odd sense of satisfaction at the thought of that pig finally getting his comeuppance.
“Once we get through this, things are going to be very different for us.” His voice sounds determined, and I desperately want to stay awake to hear what he has to say, but it’s too late. I can already feel my body shutting down.
30
Nate
“Once we get through this, things are going to be very different for us,” I say to Jem, even though I can tell from her breathing that she’s on her way to sleep. I don’t mind. I want her to get her rest, but I’m nowhere near tired. My mind is racing wildly with ideas about what to do when all of this ends. “Very different.”
I’m sure that Lola will do the right thing, and I’m certain that she’ll save me in the end—she has too much of a sense of justice to let this pass her by. I’m just not convinced that she’ll do it right away because she’s so afraid, which means I need to plan.
I’m going to be hated for a while. My reputation is already somewhat tainted from my drunken, womanizing ways, and the previous thing with Lola—the case was thrown out, and the majority of people seemed to be on my side, but I know that a lot don’t believe that there’s smoke without a fire, and this will bring it all up again. I won’t be able to say anything to defend myself again, not until the girls step forward, so I’m going to have to be smart about what I do.
I’ll need to go into hiding. That much is obvious. And I might have to do so without Jem, since she’ll have a lot to sort out. But where will I go? I don’t really want to have to rely on Paul again. It’s his job, but I just feel like he’s been through enough. But what other options do I have?
My mind whirrs over and over, trying desperately to find a solution. I could get on a plane at the earliest convenience, and I could escape somewhere abroad—get some sun, write some new music—but I’m pretty sure that won’t look good in the media at all, especially if I’m caught. Plus, if Cole does decide to press charges, I’ll end up in police custody anyway.
What will I do?
An idea forms in my mind, even though I’m certain it’s a bad one. A part of me wants to go and find Jem’s mother, to explain everything to her, to try and solve the fractured relationship between us, but I don’t know how Jem will feel about me interfering. Especially when I’ll need to break her trust to tell her mom the truth about her childhood.
I just don’t know…
Before I can come to any conclusion, my phone’s ringtone blasts out loudly, and I grab it quickly to shut the sound off so it doesn’t wake Jem up. The name I see plastered across the screen fills me with a horrible sense of dread. Paul. He already knows. The story has already broken to the public.
I race from the bedroom, answering quickly, waiting for the onslaught. “What the fuck is this?” Paul screams before I can even say hello. “What the fuck are you playing at now?”
“I’m sorry, I…” I try, but he has no intention of allowing me to get a word in edgewise.
“Have we not been through enough, Nate? You only just got out of the last mess with your career intact. How the fuck do you think you’re going to survive this one?”
“I…”
“There are pictures everywhere online. Eyewitness accounts, all of it.” I can hear the trembling rage in his voice, and I feel guilty for my actions all over again. I really should have thought about all the people I would affect before I did this. I’ve been selfish yet again. “If that fucker decides to press charges, I think you’re done. You’ll get locked up for sure this time. There is no way you’ll get any of the same sort of leniency—especially when you’re so clearly guilty.”
“I’m sorry, Paul,” I reply pathetically. “I should have kept my temper in check.”
“What the fuck was it all about?” he asks, but I keep my lips tightly sealed together. There’s nothing I can say, not yet, not even to Paul. If he can find a way out of this, he’ll use it, no matter what it does to everyone else. I’ll just have to take the wrath of everyone until my innocence (or at least my reasoning) can be revealed. “Okay, Nate,” he continues wearily. “I’ll call you in the morning when I know more about it. Get some sleep.”
I return to bed, fully intending to do what he asks, but my brain still isn’t ready to switch off.
I get news the next morning that Cole has no intention of pursuing the issue, which is obviously his way of trying to keep his own wrongdoings under wraps, but since Lola clearly isn’t ready to speak out, the onslaught of hate comes my way. I hate every single second of it, but at least this time it feels like it’s worth something. It’s me protecting Jem, Tonya, and Lola, and I’m willing to be a shield for them.
I do need to escape, though, which is how I find myself traveling on a crappy, rundown bus all the way across the country to face Jem’s mother. As the metal box rattles along the countryside, my mind goes over all the reasons that I shouldn’t be doing this—the fact that the woman hates me, the breaking of Jem’s trust, the insanity of me doing this without telling another soul…but despite all of that, my gut instinct is that it’s the right thing to do. Jem needs her mom right now, and I know she isn’t going to do anything to make that happen, which means that as the man in her life, it’s up to me.
I’m anxious as hell, almost nauseous with fear over what is about to come, but I also feel that with the thicker skin I’ve had to develop recently, I’ll be able to handle this. It might be the worst experience of my life, but it’s all for Jem, and that’s enough.
Eventually I arrive in the small village where Jem grew up, and I glance at the ratty piece of paper in my hand. It took some real digging to find Jem’s mom’s address, but luckily she’s been very distracted recently, so it wasn’t too difficult to do it undetected.
“Willow Street,” I mutter to myself, looking around. “Where the hell is Willow Street?”
I grew up in the city, so the twisty, winding roads are something I’m not familiar with. I end up wandering around for far too long before giving up and asking an elderly gentleman for directions. He gives me an odd look, as if he might recognize me from somewhere, but luckily he doesn’t ponder it too much. Instead he points me in the right direction.
That’s how I find myself standing outside a quaint-looking cottage, my heart racing, trying to prepare myself to speak to Jem’s mom.
“Come on, Nate,” I say, trying to calm myself down. “Just do it. This is for Jem.”
I walk slowly toward the door, my mind going over and over the speech I’ve spent the last few days rehearsing. I need to get this right, to say exactly what needs to be said, to ensure that this meeting goes smoothly.
I knock lightly on the door, and a small, hunched-over, very sad-looking woman answers. Everything that I’ve planned spins from my mind, and I find myself opening
and closing my mouth like a goddamn idiot.
“Can I help you?” she eventually asks, giving me a confused look.
“I’m s…sorry,” I stammer. “I don’t know if you remember me. My name is Nate Romero. I’m with your daughter.”
“Jem?” she asks, a shining look in her eyes. This is the first glimpse of happiness that I’ve seen out of her—even the last time I met her she looked heartbroken—which makes me believe that I’ve definitely done the right thing. “How is she? Is she okay?” If she remembers me from the last time we met, then she’s totally skating over that fact, which is a good thing. It means I don’t have a whole lot of explaining to do.
“Can I come in? I think this is a conversation best had inside.”
She scurries around in the kitchen, making me a cup of coffee, and I allow my eyes to scan over her home. This place is a little like a shrine to the past—to a time when Jem and her father were both here—and I wonder how much of Jem’s mom’s seeming rejection was actually depression. I can’t imagine it was a nice thing, losing her husband like that after such a long illness. The thought of losing Jem kills me already, and they were married for years.
She certainly hasn’t moved on, at any rate.
“So.” She hands me a cup and sits on the sofa opposite me. “You came here to talk about Jem?” There’s a nervous edge to her voice, and I’m suddenly afraid of how she’s going to react to all of this news. Then again, it’s better that she finds out now before it’s all over the media.
“Jem misses you, you know.” I start, wanting to reassure her. “I know that she wishes you two could be close.”
“Oh, my God, I want that too, so badly.” She breaks down, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I miss her so much.” She stares at me for a moment, as if she’s trying to work me out. “I didn’t mean to be a bad mother, I just…I couldn’t cope after I lost John. And Jemima has always been so independent, so capable. She was so invested in her career that I didn’t want to burden her with my problems.” I’ve opened a floodgate, and everything is spilling out. I wonder if this is the first time she’s ever been able to speak about her issues with her daughter. I sit back and listen, allowing her to get it all out, hoping that it’ll unburden her just a little bit. “It seemed easier at the time to take a step back, to deal with my own sadness alone while she built a life for herself. Then after that, it became too difficult to talk to her. She no longer wanted me, and she didn’t seem to have anything to say to me anymore.” I nod, as if I understand even though I don’t. Not really. Having not had a real family myself, parental politics isn’t something I’ll ever really get. “I guess I was selfish. I let her slip away, and now I want her back more than anything in the world.”
“You can have that,” I insist, nodding happily at her. “I’ll help you.”
“So, how is she?” She changes the subject, clearly unconvinced by my words. That doesn’t matter. I’ll show her. She’ll see.
“She’s…she’s having a bit of a difficult time,” I admit. Her mom leans forward, concern plastered all over her face. “I don’t know if you remember her old manager Cole.” She gives me a blank look, but that’s understandable. That was all happening while she was caring for her sick husband. “Well, it turns out that he abused her, and some other girls…”
“What?” She gasps, throwing her hand over her mouth. “My beautiful girl was abused? And I did nothing about it?” I can see the guilt flooding through her, and I feel awful. But she needs to know, and there really isn’t a kind way to get that news across. “I’m the worst mother in the whole world. I should have been there…”
“She wouldn’t have told you anyway,” I attempt to reassure her. “She’s only ready to speak out about it now because it’s happening again to another friend of hers.”
“Oh, God.” She stands up and paces the room in a distressed state. “All that Jem has been through, and I haven’t been there for any of it.” I wonder if I should hug her before deciding that it would be inappropriate. “I need to come with you,” she insists. “I need to be there for her now.”
“Okay.” I hold my hands up to slow her down. “I think that’s a great idea, but we need to hold our fire for the time being. I’m in a lot of trouble because when I found out, I freaked out and beat the guy up.” I hang my head in shame, sure that this will make her hate me. What kind of woman would want her daughter with a thug? But she remains silent, looking at me curiously. “And I can’t go back until the girls decide to go public.”
“Why are they waiting?” she cries, seemingly unable to understand.
“The girl going through it now is scared, but Jem will help her. She’s good like that.”
“Okay.” Her mom nods, seeming to accept that. “What do we do in the meantime?”
“I guess we wait.” I smile. “In fact, I actually need your help with something…”
31
Jem
I feel increasingly awful with every bad word that is said about Nate—especially when I can’t even stand up and defend him—but I need to wait. We all do. We have to all be ready for this, and Lola is only just getting there. Every time I feel even an ounce of frustration with her, I remember myself back then. I was nowhere near ready to speak out. Even if others had stood alongside me, I may have been too terrified, so I do understand.
I’ve spoken to Nate on and off over the last few days, but he won’t tell me where he’s hiding in case our phones have been tapped. He sounds happy, though, which is all I can ask for in this nightmare. I’m just so grateful that he isn’t furious at me for putting him through all of this.
“What do you think she’s going to decide?” Tonya asks me nervously, pacing up and down outside the therapist’s office. Lola has agreed to speak to a professional, to see how it makes her feel, and then we will go from there. Tonya is as worked up about all of this as I am, which is making the tensions in the room very high.
“I really don’t know,” I answer honestly. “But we cannot do this without her. She’s the key to us getting justice. We might not be listened to because it happened so long ago, whereas Lola is now.”
“She’s just so closed off about it all,” Tonya whines. “It’s difficult for her to even open up to us about it.” We still don’t know how far Cole has taken things with Lola, and I’m not sure that we ever will.
“I know, but we just need to wait. Even after all of this, she’s going to need to tell Ben and her family first.” Images of my own mother flick through my mind, but I try to push them aside quickly. I don’t want her to find out about this through the media either, but it also isn’t the sort of thing you attempt to rebuild a relationship over. This has been troubling me for a while now, but I can’t fix everything at once, and this issue needs to take precedence while Nate is having such a crappy time.
The door swings open and I jump up from my seat to stand next to Tonya. We both look at Lola expectantly as she slides quietly through the door, biting on her lip. Her face is red and blotchy, showing me that she’s been crying, but I can also see something else. A new look in her eyes, one that I pray is a sign of hope.
“Okay,” she whispers, smiling weakly. “I’m ready. Let’s go to the police.”
I wrap my arms around her and pull her in for a hug. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask, desperately not wanting to push her into anything, but she nods against me.
“No, it’s time. I’m ready.” She pulls back to look at me, giving me her most confident expression. I see a glimpse of the old Lola, the one I met on that ship all that time ago. “The doctor made me see that I’m only holding back because I’m afraid of how people will react to me, but that none of it is my fault. Not really. That’s all in my mind.”
“It isn’t your fault. Not at all,” Tonya interjects, grinning for the first time in a very long time. “Just like it isn’t ours, either.”
“He can’t get away with it anymore.” Lola nods defiantly. “Not with me or anyone el
se.”
“We’ll go to the police tomorrow, after you’ve had the chance to speak to your family—”
“No,” she jumps in quickly. “I need to go right now. I need to do this right away. I’ll speak to my family afterwards.”
“Right.” I glance at Tonya, who is nodding vigorously. “Let’s go, then.”
We spend hours and hours in the police station, giving statements, going over evidence, discussing future moves, and by the end of it I’m absolutely exhausted. On the way to the police station, I only had a brief second to fire off a quick text to Nate to ensure that he knows things are changing, and I also let Kim know the story in the best way I could via text so it wouldn’t be a shock to her when it came out.
By the time we exit the questioning room, each of us as physically and mentally drained as the others, Kim is standing in the waiting room, pacing up and down furiously. My heart pounds heavily at the pissed-off expression on her face, and I wonder if we’ve done the right thing, or if we should have spoken to our management teams first…
“There you are!” Her face bursts into a smile and she pulls me in for the first hug I’ve ever had from her. My body relaxes. She’s actually here in a caring capacity, rather than for business.
Or so I thought…
“Okay, girls, I’ve been discussing things with your teams, and we’ve put together a press conference for you. It isn’t until tomorrow morning, to give you all enough time to learn your speeches, but we need to tackle this before it leaks to the media—which it will, the second Cole gets arrested.” She returns to her normal, bossy self, but I’m actually grateful for that. Now that we’ve unburdened ourselves, I feel like a little return to normal life is in order. “We’ll be sending things over to you later tonight, so be sure to have your emails open.”
