by Amanda Scott
He shook his head, feigning annoyance. “She did the best she could with me. But she wasn’t a miracle worker.”
Taylor’s smile disappeared from her face. Something about the way he was around his grandmother was tugging at her heartstrings in a way that made her uncomfortable. She couldn’t stand one simple fact…
She was starting to fall for this man.
He’s totally unattainable. Don’t be an idiot, Taylor.
The billionaire reached for his phone that vibrated in his jeans pocket. “Hold on Grams, my agent seems to think I care about decreasing the number of hate tweets I receive.”
Taylor watched his every beautiful move as he answered the call. She loved the way the color in his eyes swirled around his pupils, and the way his cut shoulders flexed naturally beneath his shirt, and the way his full lips curled upwards at both corners despite the fact that he was clearly agitated underneath his facial veneer.
“This isn’t a good time,” he said into his phone. A muted voice came through the other end of his call. His eyes narrowed slightly; his attention had been caught. “Let me call you in thirty seconds.” Then he hung up.
“Everything okay?” Taylor asked.
His face looked suddenly strained. “Just business. I need to make a call. Do you mind staying with Grams for a minute?”
Taylor was touched that she was along for this ride, even if she knew it was about to end. “Of course not.”
As Colton stepped out, she sat beside his grandmother, sharing the view with her through the window as the two sat in silence together. Taylor wondered a lot of things.
Why did he bring me here? Is he just feeling sorry for me? Or was it something worse…
Does he have feelings for me?
She shook the ridiculous thought out of her head. But the moment she did, it was as if the universe had spoken…
“You’re the first one he’s ever loved,” his grandmother said.
Taylor was rattled at first. “Excuse me?” she asked, looking towards the woman’s wheelchair.
No.
Way.
She waited for the older woman to repeat herself, but nothing came out of her lips. Had Taylor started hearing things that weren’t really there? Seriously, maybe all the stress and worry and fear were turning her brain into a useless pile of mush.
No. She said what she said.
But surely even if she did say what she said, it wasn’t like Colton’s grandmother’s words actually meant something.
Or did they?
Taylor was ripped from her trance as the nurse returned, this time holding only a clear plastic cup and several multi-colored pills in her hand. “It’s that time of day, Ms. Marcus. Time for your beauty vitamins,” the nurse said, winking at Taylor as she began to reposition the elderly woman in her wheelchair.
Taylor needed some fresh air; it was the least she could give herself after what she had just heard pour from the lips of his grandmother.
She was accustomed to going for walks as a way to get clear on things.
Problem was, she had no idea what she was about to walk into as the afternoon sky grew dark.
She walked through the glass doors and past the two security guards until she reached the parking lot to the nursing home. It was almost eerily quiet, aside from the traffic sounds off in the distance outside of the property’s tree-lined grounds. She glanced at Colton’s car, but he was nowhere to be found, then her eyes followed a grey stone walkway that led to a maze of tall evergreen cypress trees.
Perfect. She could get lost in those for a minute or two, and then meet Colton back in his grandmother’s room.
She walked along the rows of trees. It was exactly the kind of privacy she craved from the rest of the world.
Colton’s grandmother’s words bounced around from every inch of her brain. You’re the first one he’s ever loved.
As she tried to make sense of it all, she failed to notice that she wasn’t alone anymore.
Until it was too late.
Her eyes caught the tops of two large, worn-out work boots peering from the bottom of one of the bushes. Definitely not Colton’s, she thought. Must be one of the groundskeepers.
She tried to move to another section of the evergreens, just to be safe, but accidentally found herself moving further away from the nursing home itself as she inadvertently entrenched herself even deeper inside the maze of trees.
Then she noticed something bad. Something really, really bad. For every step she moved, the greasy pair of boots moved with her.
Fear set in as she realized she was being followed. Her heart started to pound hard in her chest. She had to do something, even if it was just the groundskeeper. She’d rather look silly and be wrong than do nothing at all.
So she ran. Fast.
Her body flooded with so much panic that she couldn’t hear whether or not the heavy work boots, and whomever they belonged to, followed after her. She was totally discombobulated as she rounded one corner after another of what seemed to be endless rows of trees.
The next corner that she turned proved to be her last. She screamed as she ran right into the arms of a strange man. As she yelled at the top of her lungs she prayed that whoever this man was, he was going to immediately identify himself as one of the groundskeepers
No such luck.
Because the moment she let out the highest pitched scream she could muster, a large, leathery glove came down hard on her lips, muting her altogether.
A gruff, disgustingly familiar voice crept into her ears. “You little bitch! I knew I’d catch up with you eventually.”
She tried to move her head, but the man’s arms were at least three times her size as they easily held her in place from behind. His gloved hand continued to keep her delicate mouth locked shut, completely muting out any of her attempts to cry for help.
“Shut up, whore, or I’ll cut her fucking throat!” he said. He pulled out a long, razor-sharp blade and pressed the tip slightly into her cheek. “I swear to god if you make another sound I’ll cut your eye out.”
Taylor stood frozen. She was completely helpless, and her shame-filled mind couldn’t help but wonder if this was exactly what she deserved.
“Turn around and look at me,” the voice grumbled. Then he forced her to turn, all the while locking her mouth shut with his hand. He towered over her wearing tan, stretchy nylon over his face and head.
She trembled as she spoke. “What… What do you want? Do you want money?”
The masked man smacked the side of her face with the back of his hand, the same hand that gripped a blade that was long enough to end her life in a mere instant. Taylor moaned from the pain, but his other hand covered most of the sound that tried to pour from her mouth. “I’m telling you to shut the fuck up and look at me.” Then he pressed the tip of the blade into the center of her throat. “You make even the slightest chirp and it’s goodbye Taylor Ward.”
He knows who I am.
She would have swallowed her own throat but the knife that indented her neck kept her from flinching.
She hoped and prayed that somehow Colton would come looking for her, not that he had a clue she was even out here right now.
Then she stood frozen in front of this man as he slowly began to peel the nylon mask off his face.
Taylor’s eyes bugged out of their sockets as she made out the man’s hauntingly familiar face. Those vacant, blood shot eyes and that pale, ghostly complexion speckled with red, hellish freckles.
Brody Sharp.
She’d wondered what Colton’s “people” had done with him after she and the author left him passed out on her apartment floor. She’d even gone so far as to think, maybe even hope, that someone chained a concrete block to his ankle and dumped his body over the Zakim Bridge.
But here he was- alive and overflowing with vengeance.
Every time she uttered a single word she felt the blade’s tip dig even deep
er into the flesh of her throat. “What do you want from me?” she asked.
He smiled, revealing an incomplete set of mustard yellow teeth. “Well, it’s too late to collect your rent check. That job’s gone, thanks to you and Captain America.” Then he dragged the blade down her neck until it reached the top of her breast. “Now I want something else,” he growled as he moved his other hand off her mouth and squeezed her breast.
She jerked her body and inhaled sharply, causing him to flinch. “Shut up!” he snapped. “Remember, little girl, you make a sound and I fucking kill you.”
Her eyes widened. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her right now. It didn’t seem fair, and yet part of her, the same part that of her that repeatedly set the bar all too low for herself, thought this was just karma in the making. “You’re a sick pig,” she said with a breathy tone.
A smile erupted across his entire face as if he had just received a presidential award. “Maybe so, sweetheart. So why don’t you show me that tight little pussy of yours and make me squeal like one?” he said.
She turned away and closed her eyes. “I’d rather die you psycho!”
“You little whore! Do what I say or you’ll get what you deserve and then some.”
She shook her head, her eyes still closed. “No. Fucking. Way.”
His breathing grew heavy around her. Then came his warm leather glove over her lips and cheeks.
“Suit yourself, bitch.”
Every nerve in her body went numb, as time suddenly seemed to lock in place. Her eyes flickered open and caught the shadow of Brody’s knife slowly rising upwards.
She swallowed hard, unable to move or scream. She braced herself for what was about to come her way as a lifetime filled with pain and regret flashed through her mind.
Then she took what she thought was her last breath as she waited with closed eyes, almost corpse-like.
With her eyes closed, she heard an eerie grunt come her captor, Brody Sharp. The waiting was agonizing. It wasn’t that she wanted to die right now, but if she did have one last request it was to hurry up and get this hell over with.
Another second went by, and along came another strange grunting sound.
Taylor slowly peeled open her eyes.
At first she was sure she might already be dead. What else could explain the splotches of bright red blood on the tips of her light pink New Balance sneakers that Colton had purchased for her?
Before she could garner enough courage to look up, Brody’s body collapsed on the ground in front her.
Holy fucking shit.
She instantly noticed that his own knife was deeply embedded into his stomach. Brody’s black eyes glared directly at her while blood began to trickle out of his mouth as he took what appeared to be his last gasp of air.
Then she looked up.
There he stood, Colton Marcus, hovering above the dead body. Colton looked stunned, utterly frozen in place. Taylor’s head was spinning; she didn’t even have time to say thank you or even feel relief for the fact that he had just saved her life.
The billionaire author looked up at her and let out a deep breath of air. “Are you okay?”
She looked back down at Brody’s lifeless body. “I… I don’t know,” she stammered.
Her whole body trembled as she glanced up at Colton again. Physically speaking, he looked as though nothing had just happened- not a hair on his head was out of place, his shirt was wrinkle-free… But his eyes told a different story entirely; they pulsated chaotically as he tried to regain an even breathing pattern.
Taylor’s own eyes started to well up with tears. She wanted so badly to tell him so much, but somehow saying a simple thank you seemed to undercut what he had just done for her.
The billionaire held out his arms. “You’re okay, Taylor. Everything’s okay now.”
The tears immediately poured from her eyes. Just as Colton went to cradle her in his arms, the very thing that she craved now more than ever, a thunderous voice came from behind her.
“Hold it right there, asshole! Keep your hands up where we can see them!”
Before their fingers could touch, two Boston policemen pinned the side of Colton’s face against the ground.
Taylor was frantic as she watched them cuff his hands behind his back. “What are you doing? Leave him alone!”
“It’s okay, Tay. I got this,” the billionaire said.
One of the officers checked the cuffs to make sure they were secure. “Do you sir? Because it looks like you have a lot of explaining to do.”
Taylor was desperate to intervene, knowing full well she was totally helpless.
Again.
“You don’t know who he is!” she called out.
One of the cops chuckled as he pressed his shiny black shoe into Colton’s back. “We know what he did, and that’s all that really matters right now.”
The second officer removed his two fingers from Brody Sharp’s wrist. “He’s gone, Breen.”
The first officer removed his foot from Colton’s back and shoved his gun back into its holster, and then he pulled the billionaire up on his feet and started to read him his rights. “You have a right to remain silent. Anything you say and do can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney…”
As the cop continued reading Colton his rights, Taylor lost all control and tried to wedge herself between Colton and the cop. “Let him go! He didn’t do anything!”
“Lady, please. If you don’t calm yourself down, you’ll be in cuffs too,” the police officer said.
But she had no interest in calming herself down, not until Colton was free and holding her safely in his arms. She grabbed onto the billionaire’s arms and tried to pull him towards her and away from the cop. “Let. Him. Go.”
“Ma’am, that’s enough!” one of the cops shouted.
“Tay, please. I’ll take care of this,” Colton tried to reassure her.
Unfortunately, she was in her own world now, unable to hear or see anything other than the first person’s she’d cared about in a long time being cuffed with steel rings. She started pounding her fist into the cop’s arm and shouting. “He didn’t do-“
Before she could finish her sentence, the officer quickly and easily restrained her in his unflappable arms.
Now the billionaire himself began to lose control as he tried to kick the side of the cop’s leg. “Keep her out of this or I swear to god I’ll ruin both of you!”
But as much as Colton tried to protect her, he was rendered powerless behind the handcuffs. It didn’t help matters that two more officers rushed onto the scene.
Two more officers rushed onto the scene. Three of them grabbed Colton all at once. “Okay, I think that’s enough. Get that piece of shit out of here!” the largest of the three demanded.
Taylor watched in horror as all three cops dragged Colton from his shoulders and pulled him out of her sight. She hoped and prayed that she could see his eyes but his head had been forced backwards making it physically impossible for him to look back at her.
She tried to protest one last time, but the cop’s impenetrable restraint on her arms felt like nails were being hammered into her shoulders every time she tried to break free.
“Let it go, lady. You’re just making things worse for him,” the cop said as she tried to wiggle free from his obscenely tight grasp.
“He didn’t do anything. He saved my life!” she said back to him.
The cop chuckled. “Your boyfriend just killed someone. That much I know.”
Taylor slumped her head down as the cop’s words echoed inside of her.
Colton Marcus just killed someone.
For me.
Then came wave upon wave of nausea as she began to blame herself for getting the billionaire into this mess to begin with.
You attract what you are, she told herself. And I attracted someone like Brody Sharp because of who I’ve
become- worthless, empty, weak…
Taylor started to vomit, just barely missing the cop’s shoes. He released her onto the grass as her body started to purge itself.
On her seventeenth birthday, she’d managed to reach depths so low that she was miraculously lucky to survive the plunge. She never thought she’d experience that kind of low again in her life, but she was wrong.
Dead wrong.
She listened as the patrol car whisked Colton off to wherever he was going.
Her life was ruined, that much she knew. What if Colton is somehow found guilty of manslaughter? What if he winds up in the wrong courtroom, with the wrong judge?
Colton would want nothing to do with her after this.
Everything was over- her opportunity to publish with the most successful writer on the planet, her chance to rid herself of her old, dead-end life, and her chance to finally be with a man like him.
Not that she actually believed any of those things would actually come to fruition.
Case in point.
“Ma’am?” the cop continued to call to her as she woke from her self-deprecating trance.
Taylor shook her head as she came to her senses, relatively speaking. “What?”
His voice was pure business as he asked, “Do you need a ride home?”
She looked down at the green grass that padded her feet from the cold, hard earth.
Home?
If Taylor learned one thing in her life, it was that a house didn’t make a home. Sure, she had an apartment she could go back to. But a home?
Not even close.
She slowly lifted her gaze to meet the police officer’s eyes head on. “Yes, I do need a ride home,” she said.
He nodded, and then looked down at the vomit splattered amidst the grass. Taylor glanced to her side as two plain-clothed men wearing white rubber gloves placed Brody Sharp into a black, life-size sack and zipped it shut.
“Do you live alone?” he asked her.
“Yes, why?”
“Because you’ve just been through a major trauma. Is there anyone else you can stay with?”
She ran through her short list of options, only to conclude there was only one even remotely viable.
And that wasn’t going to happen.
