AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Oh shit.” My brain replays Marcy’s words over and over. Her insistence on not revealing the name of the man who hurt her. “Excuse me for a moment.”
Summer covers my lapse as I toss the magazine on the bed and dart from the room.
This can’t be happening. No. No. No. I reach the front desk and ask Anne for the magazine she was reading. She hands it to me with a curious look.
Different magazine, similar photograph. Only in this one, I recognize the sweep of her hair, the curve of her jaw, those lips I’ve tasted. Marcy on a romantic date with Hollywood hotshot, Vic Simmons. Son of a bitch.
He’s the bastard who hurt her.
Chapter Nineteen
Marcy
Today’s the day. After work, I’m going straight over to Rob’s and we’re talking this out. It’s been horrible trying to focus this week without knowing what’s in his head. We need to figure this out. Period.
On the subway to work, I get a few more stares than usual. It must be the fishnet stockings and leather skirt. Maybe the neon top is too much? Doesn’t matter. I want Madonna energy today, and I’m damn proud of my effort. Shrugging it off as typical New York, I continue with the commute by diving into the fashion magazine Liana gave me yesterday.
The moment I walk in the door, all hell breaks loose. Liana and Donna rush toward me. Their voices overlap as they ramble, and I can’t make sense of the words.
“Whoa, slow down. What happened?”
“You haven’t seen?” Donna turns to Liana. “She doesn’t know.”
“Shit.” Liana darts down the hall and returns with a magazine. “You’re front-page news.”
“What?” I nearly choke on my gum after I take the magazine from her hands. Vic Simmons Spied at Romantic Dinner with Mystery Woman. Fear grabs me by the throat and squeezes. There on the cover is a photograph of Vic and me at the restaurant on Saturday night. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I pinch my eyes closed, praying it’s a joke.
“That’s you, right?” Liana points to the woman sitting across from Vic. “I’d recognize you anywhere.”
“You went out with Vic Simmons and didn’t tell us?” Donna gapes at me.
“Well, yeah, but it was just dinner. Nothing happened. I’m not dating Vic Simmons.” My hand covers the cut on my cheek. “It was nothing.”
“Hold on.” Liana pulls my hand away and sucks in a breath. “Did he do that?”
“What? No. I fell, hit the corner of a table.”
“Uh-huh. That’s interesting. Because Monday you told me a cat scratched you, and the bruise was from an errant swinging door.” Donna crosses her arms. Her eyes darken like a storm over the bay. “Spill it, sister.”
“It’s fine. Forget it.” I shove Liana’s hand away. Panic pulses thick around me, and I need space to breathe. Pushing past them, I head for my office. More tabloids litter my desk. I shove them all into the trash and sit down.
Taking out the checklist for the following week’s jobs, I read the words, but nothing sticks. My mind swarms with building anxiety. What if Rob sees this? What if he finds out who I was with on Saturday? He’ll know. Fuck.
I bite my lip and try to focus on the list. Tears prick my eyes.
“Honey.” Liana’s concerned face appears in my doorway. “You don’t have to hide it from us. We saw the bruises on Monday.”
“And the cut,” Donna adds, coming in beside Liana. “Why didn’t you tell us the truth?”
I sniff and hide the tears. “What truth? It’s nothing. Really.”
“Did Vic Simmons do this?” Donna sits on the edge of my desk.
My lip trembles as the memories slam into me with the force of a speeding train colliding with a brick building. Vic’s harsh words. His hot breath. The unwelcome pressure of his mouth on mine. His firm grip. The pain shooting through my head when his hand collided with it. The sting of his ring slicing my cheek with the backhand.
I squeeze my eyes closed willing the memories to vanish. But they’re replaced by darker, hazier visions of Dan throwing me to the ground. Punching me. Hitting me until I black out in a bloody heap.
“Shh, honey, it’s okay,” Donna whispers in my ear as she rocks me in her arms.
