by Amanda Scott
“I know you’re in there, Darling,” he squealed from the other side of the door.
Taylor threw on a pair of baggy grey sweat pants to hide her bare legs, as well as a thick Red Sox sweatshirt to wear over her floral chemise that she’d been donning for the past few days while she’d been living on a prayer in the form of a response from Colton Marcus.
Well this was a different sort of response. Maybe I deserve this, she muttered inside her head as she reached to open the door.
Brody looked particularly agitated already; his eyes were bloodshot and his smile was more forced than ever. Taylor was starting to get a really bad feeling about this as she wished she’d never unlocked the door for the man. Brody took a long swig from his can of beer; she watched in horror as some of the golden fluid accidentally dribbled down his chin.
He looked her heavily clothed body up and down, indifferent to the fact that she was wearing the least flattering outfit she could think of. His eyes flickered, revealing something evil behind them; the way he stared at her, it didn’t feel right in her gut.
Taylor panicked and reached for her phone. But Brody grabbed her wrist in the same place he had grabbed her before. She cried out from the pain of his fingers crushing into her sore flesh. “Where’s my fucking rent check?” he shrieked, pinning her arm against the wall with ease as he finished what was left of his beer and then tossed the can across her apartment floor.
She refused to make eye contact with this disgusting man. Her voice was hoarse as she spoke. “Tomorrow.”
He leaned in closer, reeking of cheap beer and cigarettes. The smell alone was enough to traumatize her for life, never mind everything else she was about to endure.
“I think I might have an idea,” he said, releasing her wrist momentarily. “Maybe a an alternative form of payment.”
“Fuck you, Brody.”
“Suit yourself bitch. I’m gonna have to take what’s mine then, with or without your permission.”
She screamed at the top of her lungs as he pressed her up against the wall, pinning her hands and arms helplessly behind her back without a single care for the fact that he could easily break one of her bones. Then he pressed the side of her face into the wall, effectively covering her mouth so she couldn’t scream anymore. “I’ve been waiting a long time for a piece of that sweet ass of yours.”
She knew she was in major trouble once the sound of his belt buckle came crashing onto the floor. But then she heard a loud shrill, almost like the sound of a large, wild animal getting harpooned in its side. And she was so confused at first that she didn’t realize the scream was coming from Brody himself.
As Brody’s greasy hand loosed its grasp against her face, she turned to face him. A towering figure stood behind Brody, making the greasy creep look suddenly smaller than he had just moments ago. The figure’s arms engulfed the perpetrator’s face and neck much like a boa constrictor feasting on a small rodent. Everything was happening so fast that Taylor wasn’t able to make sense of her surroundings.
Then she heard the massive figure’s voice. “Go to sleep, Shitbag.” Taylor’s jaw dropped open as she watched Brody’s body collapse on the floor, boneless and completely unconscious.
Then she looked up and gasped.
It was Colton.
His voice was deep and more sincere than she’d yet to hear it. “Are you okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he surveyed her face and neck, using his long fingers as if they were surgical tools as he checked for any marks or injuries on her skin. Then he picked up both of her hands and came to the bruises on her wrist. Even after what she had just been through with the scumbag on the floor, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of energy shoot up her spine as he touched her like this. She let her eyes drift across his beautiful forearms, and then down towards his cut hips and thighs that practically busted out of the fabric of his jeans.
Colton on the other hand felt something altogether different. His cheeks and forehead blazed the color of fire. “He did this to you?” he asked, his narrowed eyes skimming over the drunk man on her apartment floor.
Her voice shook as she spoke. “Yes.”
He took in two deep breaths as if it was all he could do to keep from losing his mind over what had just happened to her.
One single thought swirled around and around in her head. Why is he here?
Then he looked at her, her small hands still engulfed in his giant palms. “Are you okay?” he asked.
Oh no, not in front of him. But as much as she tried to fight back the tears, they had plans of their own as they began to drain from both of her blue eyes.
Then he wrapped his arms around her entire body, and in that moment, everything changed.
She had never felt so safe, so cared for, in her entire life. He pulled her even tighter into his strong, muscular cocoon as tears continued to pour from her eyes while her face was pressed up against his stubbly cheeks. His lips were so close to hers she could practically taste the salt from his tongue.
Colton moved his face just slightly, and his lips stopped as they passed in front of hers.
Kiss me, please, she prayed to herself.
Snap out of it, Taylor. He’s no safer than the man lying on the floor right now. He just comes in a prettier package.
It was as if her skeptical energy disrupted whatever moment they were having, sending the billionaire towards the task at hand. He glanced around her apartment as he frowned. “Come on, you’re coming with me.”
“What?”
“I’ll make sure he’s properly disposed of,” he said, using only his foot to roll the lifeless property manager onto his back.
Taylor’s eyes filled with horror as she pondered what he meant by disposed of. But he gave her no time for investigate his intentions any further. “We need to go now.”
She shook her head as she tried to make her point. “What? No way. I’m not going with you.”
He smirked. “Really? You got any better options?”
She looked down at Brody and wondered how long it would be before he came to. If she stayed here, she would be in even more danger than she was before. She began to resent Colton for this entire situation the more she thought about it.
“Thank you for making things worse,” she said.
He laughed, and then his smile vanished as he looked at her. “You’d have lost one ugly wrestling match if I hadn’t showed up.”
She knew he was right. Brody was on a mission, and he didn’t exactly look like he was going to stop at anything short of rape. A sudden chill erupted inside of her, causing her body to shake inadvertently.
“Look, I’m not going to ask you again,” he said.
“And what if I refuse?”
His lips curled slightly at both ends. “Like you refused me at your place of employment?”
Her cheeks flushed red, either from embarrassment, anger, or from the visual that she had of him fucking her senseless after just having met her. “That will never happen again.”
“Agreed,” he said back.
Agreed? She was either relieved or devastatingly frustrated by his response.
“But I hope you can see that staying here is not really much of an option.”
She looked down at Brody Sharp one last time, hoping she’d never have to see him for the rest of her life.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked.
“My place.”
“You live here? I thought you lived in New York or L.A. or something…”
“I live everywhere.”
“Oh.”
“We need to go, for real,” he ordered.
“I need to get my stuff.”
He cupped the sides of her face with his hands. She knew she shouldn’t let him do this to her. And if he thought he could just touch her whenever he wanted to now that she cried in his arms, he was dead wrong.
Then he tilted her chin up so that their eyes locked in. “What
you need to do is come with me, right now. I can get you more stuff, but I can’t promise that I’m not going to kill this man if he wakes up before we go. And that won’t be good for either one of us.”
None of her choices seemed appealing. Staying could be a disaster. And leaving, with Colton, could be worse. She knew the author wouldn’t hurt her, not physically, but she wasn’t sure about anything else.
“What about this?” she said, gesturing towards Brody’s body.
“That piece of shit? Let it lie there. My people will take care of it for me.”
“Your people?”
“Damn you ask a lot of questions.” Then he placed his hand on the small of her back; even through the thick sweatshirt she had on, she could feel heat radiate from his hand as he touched her. He guided her body towards her apartment door.
“Why should I trust you? You took away my job. You humiliated me. You…”
He flashed a devilish grin, showcasing the most perfect set of teeth she’d ever laid eyes on. “I’m Colton Marcus, that’s why.”
She raised both of her brows, feigning disgust. “And?”
He pushed his thumb into the key remote. Taylor’s eyes followed the sounds of his car doors unlatching. She didn’t know much about cars, or even care that much for that matter. But she knew the shiny black vehicle she was about to set foot in was probably worth more than all of the cars combined that she’ll have owned for the duration of her life. “Just get in,” he ordered impatiently.
Colton opened the door for Taylor, and she did exactly what he demanded of her.
Mistake number two, she thought as she folded her heavily clothed body into the plush, tan leather seat of his luxury car.
And as he drove her southbound, away from the sticks and towards Boston’s urban skyline, she had more questions than her mind could tolerate at once.
What were his people going to do with Brody Sharp? Were they going to kill him? Give him a personal escort to the nearest police station?
Why did Colton show up at my apartment in the first place?
Did he read my partial manuscript that I should’ve never sent him in the first place? Was he coming back to tell me to give up my dream of becoming a published author, just like my dad had told me countless times before?
Was he going to kiss me back in my apartment? Why didn’t he?
Why did I even want him to kiss me after everything he’d already put me through?
And most importantly, where was he taking me now and what did he plan to do with me?
Finally she snapped herself out of her daydream. “What do you want from me?” she asked.
He dismissed her question altogether as he flicked a button on his steering wheel, sending Taylor Swift’s “Bad Blood” to come oozing through his car’s crisp audio system.
How ironic, she thought.
“Seriously, I’d love a simple answer to my question,” she said.
His eyes narrowed as he bobbed his head up and down to the rhythm of the music, again, completely ignoring her.
“Well?” she tried one last time.
Again, silence from the billionaire.
She rolled her eyes and purposefully slammed the back of her head into his soft, leather seat. “It’s pretty funny, a big, bad man like you rocking out to a Taylor Swift song.”
She peered out of the corner of her eye and noticed that he had stopped moving to the beat of the music. Ahhh, finally she struck a nerve in the great Colton Marcus! And over a pop song for that matter.
Colton turned down the music suddenly. “Do you have a problem with Taylor Swift?”
“Me? Hell no, how could I? I’m just surprised a guy like you isn’t into something with a little more testosterone, that’s all.”
She bit off more than she could chew. She should’ve known better than to try to go head to head with a man of his wealth and cultural stature. “I worked very closely with her on her last tour. And I agreed to publish the liner notes to one of her upcoming documentary tour DVD’s.”
She felt like a total idiot. Of course he knew the mega pop star. He was a mega pop star himself in the world of paperbacks and Kindles and Hollywood screenplays.
“Oh,” she said, slinking down in her seat.
It was getting late and Taylor wondered where she’d be sleeping as Colton’s car whizzed through the Callahan Tunnel. His car rolled off of Route 9 and into a quiet Boston neighborhood; the streets he drove her through suddenly looked different than the rest of the world, with massive gates guarding grey brick driveways, slate-shingle roofs covering every mansion she passed, and even the gold-plated streetlamps stood out among the rest of the planet’s.
Colton’s car slowed near the front of a long, winding road accented by two concrete statues of majestic-looking lions on each side. A black, iron gate opened the instant his car drew near, and then it closed behind him once he entered. He drove her up what she thought must be the nation’s longest driveway, adorned by huge, flowering trees on each side of the road.
They came to his house, if she could even call it a house, and Taylor’s jaw dropped open. Castle would be a more appropriate term for the structure.
“You live here alone?” she asked.
He steered the car down a sloping section of the driveway and then into an underground garage. “I have lots of guests.”
“How often do you stay here, in Boston I mean?”
He pulled his car into the coded garage doors and then came to a smooth stop. “Not very.”
“Oh.” She felt a pit in her stomach.
Don’t be ridiculous, she thought, knowing full well she’d felt a pang of disappointment at the thought of him leaving her. Taylor had a previous habit of getting overly attached in relationships, and she vowed to never let herself get too close again.
Not that he was even offering her the opportunity.
“Shoes off,” he ordered.
She did as he told her and then followed closely behind him as they walked through a door that led to a hallway in the billionaire’s estate.
The interior looked like something out of a dream, and she hadn’t even made it past the hallway yet. The walls and trim were all white, and the plush brown and tan runner beneath her feet was the softest thing her toes had ever felt.
“First things first. You need a shower.”
“I do?” she asked.
He looked at her and grinned. “I mean so that you can relax, not because you smell or anything.”
“Did you just compliment me?”
He looked her up and down. “The sweats gotta go too.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was going to be visited by a rapist and a man who robbed me of my job all in one fell swoop.”
“You didn’t lose your job, you were suspended.”
“Same thing.”
“That’s up to you,” he said as he opened the door to one of the seemingly endless rooms off the hallway.
“Are you trying to say that I have to let you have sex with me again if I want to get my job back?”
He stopped dead in his tracks. Then he turned to face her as he flashed his beautifully intoxicating smile at her. “Don’t worry, that was a once in a lifetime opportunity for you.”
Ouch.
“When do I get to know what you want from me?”
“When I’m ready,” he said, reaching into a linen closet and handing her the softest white towel her hands had ever felt before. “I thought I was ready, but then…” his voice trailed off, leaving her to guess the inner workings of the billionaire’s mind.
“You, undecided?”
He pressed his lips together in straight line. “Get cleaned up, then we’ll talk.”
He was so ridiculously demanding, and normally she detested that sort of behavior from men. But there was flicker behind his eyes that told another story.
And it was most definitely a story that intrigued her beyond what she
felt comfortable with deep down inside. Because she shouldn’t even be with him right now, even if he did save her from that creep back at her apartment.
Then he turned and started to walk out of the room. She took advantage of the fact that his back was now turned to her as she ogled over the way his dark designer jeans hugged the tight muscles in his butt and hammy’s.
Colton left the room completely, and Taylor glanced around at her surroundings. The style and decor made her shoulders drop. What appeared to be a guest bed with elegant white bedding sat in the center of the room. The ceiling was also white, with gold trim around its perimeters. One of the walls was buried behind a floor-to-ceiling electronic shade.
Taylor crossed the plush carpeting to the bathroom, and almost gasped. Three of the four walls were pure glass, and the room itself overlooked the back of Colton’s estate. She looked out through the glass walls as she took in panoramic views of a large, sweeping lawn that bled downhill towards an ocean bay.
She stepped out of her clothes and tossed them on the floor, just in front of the guest bed.
Then she ushered herself into the shower itself. The warm water filtered through the shiny chrome showerhead and onto her tired body. She took full advantage of the expensive honey and lavender shampoos and soaps and conditioners, lathering up every square inch of her flesh.
And as relaxed as she felt in this moment, she knew it couldn’t last. She didn’t have anywhere to go except back to her apartment. Problem was, she was dependent upon Colton to get her back there, and to give her the go ahead as far as Brody Sharp went. She could call the police; maybe they’d give her a ride home and take care of the Brody situation, but she was hesitant, especially after the experience she’d had with the police when she was a teenager.
Regardless, she knew she couldn’t stay long. It wasn’t safe to be around him, not after what she’d already let him do to her, and the way he treated her afterwards.
She stepped out of the shower and onto the heated floor tiles. She wrapped the soft, white towel around her naked hips and stepped back into the bedroom area.
My clothes, she noticed. They’re not where I left them. Taylor glanced up and noticed a silky, pink, camouflage-patterned top and bottom set with lace trim.
