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I walk toward it, my heart now racing, but I can’t even bring myself to touch it. Here it is, the one thing capable of buying my freedom from Simon. My way out. All I have to do is pack it up, shut the briefcase and forget that Ethan exists. So simple, and so hard.
That’s when I hear my phone ring. I go toward the sound, and find it lying on the couch, next to my purse. On the screen, there’s a single name: Simon. Sighing heavily, I pick the phone up and press it against my ear.
“Where are you?” he asks me immediately, the tone of his voice a disgusting one. He treats me as if I’m his slave.
“Home,” I lie. I can’t bring myself to tell him the truth.
“Any news? I want this over with as fast as possible, Brittney,” he continues, a veiled threat in the way his words get to me.
“I’m working on it. But it’s not as easy as you think… He doesn’t leave that thing where someone can just pick it up, you know?” I continue to lie, suddenly feeling nauseous. I feel like I’m falling down a hole, and I don’t know when I’m going to hit the ground.
“Don’t fuck with me, Brittney,” he hisses, and I can almost imagine his disgusting face contorting with rage. “You
know what I can do.” I feel like I’m going to be sick. More than anyone, I know what Simon can do… I close my eyes, and remain silent, the memories of moments long gone flashing behind my eyelids. “If he finds out where you are, you are fucked, bitch. You better remember that.”
“Simon, I…”
“Don’t you fucking try to stall. I know you’re on the run, hiding like a scared little girl… And if you don’t get me the prototype, I’ll tell him where he can find you. Let’s see how tough you are when your sweet ex-boyfriend is choking the life out of you.” Oh, God. How did it get to this? The worst part is that I’m not scared for myself. No, if my ex finds out that I ran away after discovering his secret, more people will suffer.
When I was younger, I used to hang out with the wrong crowd. One thing led to another, and the next thing I knew, I was head over heels with one of these assholes women say they hate, but then end up with. Except this asshole wasn’t just bad… He was evil. I knew that the first time I had to put on makeup to hide the bruises. I remember that during a visit to the ER my right eye was so swollen that I thought I’d never be able to see again.
I thought of running away more than once… I thought of fighting back. But things are never that easy, hun. You see, my lovely ex had more secrets than he cared to share. And once I got down to the bottom of it, I knew I was trapped. I couldn’t do a thing. If I tried to fight back, I’d be putting other women in danger.
That’s why one day something just snapped inside of me and I left. I came here to New York, looking to start over and forget all about my past… A new start, just like in the movies. Of course, the past has its ways of catching up to you. Call it bad luck; call it karma… Call it whatever you want. Thing is, now that Simon knows about my past, he’s using it as a threat to make me do his bidding. And I don’t know what to do. I really don’t.
Tears start to well in my eyes, and I have to take a deep breath to stop myself from sobbing. “I’ll get it done,” I whisper, one lone tear streaming down my face. “I’ll fucking do it.”
With that, I end the call and throw the phone into my purse. I place the glasses inside the briefcase, shut it, and leave the apartment.
I have no choice, it’s the only thought echoing inside my head. I have no choice.
Ethan
I hear a whistle coming from my right side and I look up to a see a woman smiling. Her teeth are so white they almost seem blue. She's completely naked, except for a pair of stilettos on her feet. She has great breasts and a great body; I'll give her that, but I have zero interest in exchanging fucking flirty banter with her, if that's what she's hoping for.
"Well, someone's looking smoking hot today," she purrs. She pushes a stray section of blonde hair behind her ear and walks closer, placing her hand on my arm.
"Don't you have a promotional shoot to be at Amy?" I ask, not giving her another glance.
She gets the hint and walks off. I can hear the sound of her heels clicking against the hard floor. I listen until it fades with her distance.
I swear, not more than five fucking minutes later, another woman walks up to me. She's a little more clothed, but not by much.
"Is this silk?" she asks, playfully running her hand along my tie.
"Yes, it is," I reply, only half listening. My response is curt and unenthusiastic. I move my body just out of her fucking reach.
"Care to join me for a drink tonight… and maybe something more?" she asks, a devilish grin on her face. I know exactly what she's insinuating.
"Not tonight doll," I say dismissively. Don't get me wrong; she's hot and easily fuckable, but I just don't care. Normally, I'd be up for bending most of these women over and fucking them… but now I have my sights on only one. Yes, I know it's hard to believe, but it's true. Ethan fucking Kane getting attached? But before you think I'm growing soft on you, I'm not. I'm just into Brittney, okay?
I watch as a frown forms on the actress' face—I can't even remember her name—and she moves on. I don't think most of these new actresses ever expected me to be so uninterested in them—given my reputation and all.
I enjoy a relatively peaceful next 20 minutes when I suddenly feel two arms wrapped around my waist.
"How's my handsome boss today?" the voice asks. I turn around and see that it's Carla. Remember her from the scene we shot in the upper middle-class suburban home, complete with crochet on the tables, a giant 52” flat screen TV on the wall, pictures of a fictional family, and a roaring fireplace?
That was all before Brittney. Back then, it felt fine fucking Carla. She wasn't anything amazing, but my cock didn't seem to complain. After Brittney, I don't want anything to do fucking do with her.
