by Cora Kenborn
I squinted at her. “Tanna? Helpful? Has hell frozen over?”
“Well, as helpful as Tanna can be,” she admitted, regarding me curiously. “She really cares about you, you know.”
“I know.”
“No,” she said, centering her stare. “I mean she really cares about you. She acted pretty angry at me. For a minute I thought she might kick my ass.”
“Don’t worry about her. That’s just Tanna. She’s moody and she can come off blunt and bitchy sometimes. She and Vivian had a love-hate relationship.”
“How so?” Phoebe asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“They loved to hate each other—with a passion.” It seemed wrong to talk about Vivian like that, especially now, but it was the truth. Those two were like oil and thicker oil. I didn’t foresee Tanna shedding any tears at Vivian’s funeral. If she went at all.
Phoebe swallowed heavily. “She mentioned the Blogosphere writer probably hacked a public relations database.”
“She’s probably right,” I agreed, wrapping my arms around her. “You shouldn’t let that woman get to you. I’ve told you before, princess, you’re going to need a thick skin to get used to this life. That includes people trying to pry into it. I’m going to do everything I can to shield you from it, but I can’t break everyone’s camera.”
She sighed. “Julian, I don’t want or expect you to maul every photographer in the city.”
We were getting off track, and I didn’t like when she got so serious, anyway. It always led to her mood tanking. “So, who is Faith Addison?”
Her face brightened. “Faith is my best friend from college.”
I wasn’t sure how to approach the formerly taboo subject. I didn’t want to scare her by probing too hard, but it was a golden opportunity I couldn’t let go. “Speaking of college—”
“Julian, don’t…” Her face fell. “Look, you’ve gotten more out of me than most anyone. Isn’t that enough for now?”
I had to ask. “Harlow knows, doesn’t he?”
“I’m not doing this with you.” She stomped past me in her usual petulant fashion. Entering the kitchen, she rummaged through cabinets, slamming each one when she didn’t find what she wanted.
“Are you really mad at me, or is this pregnancy hormones?” I asked, hiding my balls behind the couch. I wasn’t entirely positive that she didn’t have her stun gun on her, and I wasn’t taking any chances after she’d pointed a shotgun at them.
Slamming another cabinet, she took a glass out, filled it with water, and glared at me. “What about you, Julian?”
“What about me?”
“Let’s talk about Billy Lamee.”
“Let’s not,” I shot back, harsher than I meant.
She threw the glass in the sink. “Take me home.”
“No.”
She had the nerve to look shocked. “What do you mean, no?”
“Just what I said, no. I’m not taking you anywhere until you tell me everything that Harlow knows.” I was being a dick. But it made me crazy knowing that Gage Harlow knew things about the mother of my kid that I didn’t. Phoebe and I hadn’t known each other long, but we were now linked for life, like it or not. It was time for the secrets to stop.
“You’re not playing fair, Julian,” she said, crossing her arms over her stomach. It was a new habit I recognized in her.
“I never said I played fair. I play to win.”
Rubbing her stomach again, she faced the deck and chewed her lip as if in deep thought. I had a feeling I knew what she’d say. Once she’d told me the story of her mother’s death, I immediately knew where her scars had come from, although I didn’t want to believe it. A parent’s purpose was to protect a child, not destroy them.
“Billy Lamee was a great guy,” I began, staring at my hands clasped in front of me. “I met him in college, along with Ty. He was one of those dudes who everyone loved. No one had one bad thing to say about him. Lam would’ve given you the shirt off his back.”
“What happened?”
A chill ran through me as that night came back in vivid detail. “My girlfriend dumped me that day for one of my friends. They’d been sneaking around behind my back for over four months and I had no idea. I dealt with it like I always dealt with my problems—booze and women.” I stopped, expecting to see loathing on her face. Instead, she just nodded and encouraged me to continue. “I was so lit by that night, I forgot I’d told my brother I’d pick him up from a party. Billy didn’t drink. His mom was a raging alcoholic and took off when he was a kid. He refused to touch the stuff, so he went to get Ryker for me.”
Her voice softened as I felt her hand stroke down my back. “He never made it, did he?”
I shuddered, and her arms slipped around my waist. “No. A drunk driver hit him head on and killed him instantly before he got there. After that, I went down a huge spiral, Phoebe. I blamed myself. I swore it should’ve been me in that car, and I wanted to punish myself for being so selfish. For close to a year, I drank and fucked myself stupid.”
I knew that part had to be hard for her to hear—but she wanted real. This was as real as it got for me.
“Vivian?” she asked hesitantly.
“Vivian—and lots of her. I guess that’s why she hated me so much. I led her on for a long time that something was between us that wasn’t.”
“You’re talking like this spiral is over now. What’s changed?”
I smiled. This part of the story I didn’t mind telling. I took her face in my hands. “You. You changed me. Well, and Ty too.”
She grimaced. “That’s a weird combination, Julian.”
I laughed. “He helped me to finally hear what they’ve been saying for a long time. By blaming myself for Lam’s death, all I did was hurt everyone around me…especially you.”
“Me?”
“I’ve been so busy punishing myself that I didn’t see what this stalker had done to me. I guess in some sick way, I saw her as some sort of penance. She kept everything pushed down and sank me further in a hole. It took you standing up to me to show me fighting her was the only way out. Phoebe, you showed me what real bravery meant.”
Her hold on me released. “I’m not brave, Julian. I’m a huge fucking coward.”
“Would a coward have risked everything to write that article? Phoebe, you outed yourself just as much as you outed me. That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen,” I told her honestly.
What she did took the biggest balls I’d ever seen on a person.
Phoebe was deathly quiet. Rubbing her hands up and down pebbled skin, she took a deep breath before beginning. “Phoebe Dalton is my real name. Ryan was my mother’s maiden name. I changed it after I left Dreighton.” She took a deep breath. “I took out a restraining order against my father when I went to college Three months into my freshman year, my father showed up and came within two millimeters of ending my life.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Phoebe
Dreighton University
October 2011
“Damn it,” I cursed as the button on my genie pants popped again.
“They make those Disney costumes for chicks with the body of a twelve-year-old boy,” Faith said with a laugh. “I don’t know why you thought you could fit into one.”
I shot my roommate a look as I fastened the safety pin. “Have you looked in the mirror since you put on that outfit? Your ass is hanging out of your skirt.” I cocked my head to the side. “What are you supposed to be anyway? Your face looks like you went bobbing for flour.”
Faith twirled around, the short skirt fanning out around her slender legs. “Duh, I’m a dead cheerleader!”
“Cheerleaders aren’t dead, genius.”
She wrinkled her nose, tightening the blond ponytail placed high on the top of her head. “Well, they should be.”
I rolled my eyes and went back to spraying body glitter all over my exposed skin. The aerosol button got stuck, spraying a cloud of gold sparkles throughout our tiny
room. Within seconds, Faith and I were both coughing, each inhaling hundreds of glitter particles.
“Either Pheebs is dressing up like Princess Jasmine or I’ve walked into a stripper convention,” Shane quipped, walking into our room.
“Door number one…door…urgh…number one,” I sputtered, still hacking sparkles.
“Bummer. Door number two would have made for a much more interesting night.”
Faith rolled her eyes and grabbed a set of black pom poms. “Pig.”
Excitement filled me for the night ahead. Unrelenting schedules significantly cut our time together, especially since Shane joined a fraternity. But pledging had ended, and we were headed to his fraternity’s annual Halloween Bash. I missed him and tonight I planned on reconnecting with my best friends, ridiculous costumes and all.
“Nice suit, Shane,” I said, running my fingers over the lapel of his suit jacket. “Who are you supposed to be? Mr. Corporate Douche Bag?”
He jerked his black-rimmed glasses off of his face with a dramatic twist of his head. “In fact, yes. By day, I’m Mr. Corporate Douche Bag. By night”—he ripped open his button-down, revealing a Superman t-shirt, and pulled me to his side—“I’m Super Douche Bag.”
I laughed as I slapped his chest playfully. “You’re a dumbass.”
“But you love me anyway.” He ran a hand through his inky dark hair.
I smiled. “Yes, I do. Every girl dreams of having a douche bag of her very own.”
He planted a kiss on the top of my head as Faith tucked a six-pack of beer under her arm and shooed us toward the hall. “Out, you two. No more flirty-flirt. There’s drinky-drink to be done, and this dead cheerleader plans on finding herself a very alive football player.”
We’d just reached the stairwell when I remembered I’d left my phone in my car. If Faith was playing the role of a human football tonight, I was getting blackmail.
“Hey, guys, go ahead and start walking to the Greek court. I’m going to grab my phone out of my car. I’ll catch up in a minute.”
“You sure?” Shane asked.
Nodding affirmatively, I waved them off. I took a quick right into the parking lot behind the dorms. After rummaging through my car, phone in hand, I’d just slammed the car door when his voice slithered behind me.
“Hello, princess.”
I froze as my heart pounded. I knew that voice. I was going to be sick.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked, my voice shaking. A pointed blade pushed into my hip. I screamed, but he cut it off by clamping a hand around my mouth.
“Now what kind of greeting is that? You think you’re so goddamn special I can’t find you? I’ll always find you, princess.”
His hand blocked my breathing, and the lack of oxygen dimmed my vision. I tried to scream for Shane and Faith to come back but nothing came out. He dragged me behind the car, turning me so my back shoved against the trunk, with the blade pressed horizontally against my neck.
“You’ve caused me a world of shit, little girl. It’s time you pay up.”
“Phoebe?”
My head jerked up. Shane.
“This is a private party, Superman. Fuck off.”
“We both know that’s not gonna happen,” Shane said, unnervingly calm. “If you let her go, we can resolve this.”
“What kind of fucking idiot do you think I am?”
“I don’t think you’re an idiot, man. You just need to calm down and let her go.”
I knew how this would play out. I knew him. He wouldn’t stop.
This ended now.
Swallowing a mouthful of vomit, I bit down on the hand holding the knife to my throat, while Shane dove forward to pull me back. I threw my body into my attacker, planting myself in front of Shane, finally on equal footing.
“Hello, Daddy.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Julian
Bergen County, New Jersey
Present Day
She stared at me without moving. “Julian, say something.”
God, I wanted to. But my temper threatened my hold on my composure. I tried to concentrate on not knocking everything off the walls.
“Julian?” Her voice broke.
“Your…” I cleared my throat in an attempt to calm the rage boiling inside of me. “Your father attacked you and your boyfriend? Did he…” I couldn’t say the words.
“Rape me? Is that what you mean?”
I winced and barely nodded.
“No.”
Air exited my lungs in a whoosh of relief. Not that it would’ve changed how I felt about her, but for her sanity, I couldn’t imagine a betrayal of that magnitude.
“My father’s not a sexual sadist…at least he wasn’t back then. He’s just an evil son of a bitch who hates women.” She laughed sarcastically. “Fucker wasn’t expecting me to fight back. I got the jump on him pretty good.” Her face fell. “I wasn’t fast enough, though. He’d already stabbed Shane. He bled out first.”
The images in my head revolted me. “Jesus.”
“He eventually got the upper hand and stabbed me in the stomach—over and over.” She closed her eyes, as if reliving it. I wanted to go to her, but I was afraid to touch her. “Eventually, I passed out. When I woke up in the hospital, the doctors told me one of the wounds had nicked an artery and almost killed me. If Faith hadn’t come to check on us, I would’ve died right there next to Shane.”
I watched her carefully. “That’s why you left school?”
“I had to.” She finally faced me. “You see, Julian? We aren’t so different, you and me. I blamed myself for Shane’s death, too. If I hadn’t befriended him, if I hadn’t been so damned determined to live a normal life for once, he wouldn’t have come after me. He’d still be alive.”
Anger replaced my sorrow. “But you wouldn’t be, princess.”
She winced at my words. “I’ve never told you, but my father used to call me princess. It wasn’t so much of a term of endearment to him as some sick joke. That’s why I’ve always hated you saying it.”
“But now?”
Her lips curled in a smile. “Now, I’d miss it if you didn’t.” She crossed her arms over her stomach again as her face fell. “Julian, he ran when Faith, and a few others, came to the parking lot.”
Realization slapped me, and I knew her ultimate fear. “They never caught him, did they? He’s not in prison.”
Jesus Christ. She’d been living in constant fear of her own fucking father for three years.
She nodded weakly. “No one knows where. They haven’t been able to find him. That’s why I changed my name and moved. I’m petrified that one day he’ll find me and finish what he started.”
Everything made sense. “That’s why you went thermonuclear on me after the red carpet. You were afraid he’d find you.”
“I still am.”
“Then why write the article?”
Her face flushed. “I was more afraid of losing you.”
Her honesty gutted me. Gone was the sarcastic banter that held us at arm’s length from each other for so long. Nothing stood between us now but truth and a life we’d created. She’d never lose me again. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, she’d proven that she’d scale the beast of her walls to save something between us that she didn’t know if I’d reciprocate. All to save me from myself.
I’d never known selflessness like that. Now, I had it in the mother of my child.
As I kissed her and pushed her toward my bedroom, I could almost forget there was a stalker who wanted us both dead.
Almost.
***
“Understand now?” she asked, lifting her eyebrows as she rested her chin on my chest.
Lying with her in bed, the sheets twisted around us, I had a hard time focusing on what she said the first two times she explained it. I felt stupid asking her to do it a third, but I did anyway.
“One more time.”
“Damn it, Julian, have you listened to one word I’ve said?”
“In my defense, princess, the first two times you said it, you weren’t exactly facing this direction.” I nodded to my cock and back to her mouth, wiggling my eyebrows.
Making a face, she slapped me across the chest. “Ugh, god, you’re crude.”
“I’ll listen this time,” I promised. “Scout’s honor.”
“I can guarantee that you were never a scout, but whatever.” I shot her a wounded look, and she blew out a frustrated breath. “Faith owns her own public relations firm in Hollywood. Last I heard, she’d married some big shot film producer and he wanted to keep her busy so he bought her one with a ready-made A-list client roster.”
“Sounds swanky,” I said, rubbing her back.
“Hmmm, I guess. From what I hear he’s a real player. I never took Faith to be with someone like that, but then again I haven’t talked to her in years, so what do I know?”
“So how does Faith fit into your master plan?”
“Well, when I was talking to Tanna, our conversation also reminded me that Faith had a little habit in college that got her into trouble a few times.”
“Let me guess…hacking?”
“She liked to call it borrowing.”
“Semantics…I see.” It was nice to see her smiling again after the heavy afternoon we’d had. When Phoebe’s wheels turned, she was a freaking machine. She waved a hand in the air to dismiss my joke.
“Anyway, it almost got her thrown out of school the first couple of weeks at Dreighton. Luckily, her dad was a senator in South Carolina and greased some palms to make it go away.”
“Greased some palms?” I laughed to the point of having to roll away from her. “Jesus, you sound like you should be in Goodfellas.”
She slid up the headboard and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you going to listen or make fun of me?”
I calmed my laughter. “Yes, sorry. Proceed, Billy Batts.”
“Very funny. My point is we know the stalker is phishing on the message boards, but we can’t catch her because it’s always after the fact, right?”
