The tears wouldn’t stop. Julia’s mind was blank. She couldn’t think, and she didn’t care. She wanted to disappear.
Dane looked at her for a long moment, brows furrowed with concern. Whatever had happened, she was a total wreck. His insides coiled with worry. All he wanted to do was hold her, help her....
Ignoring her request, he sat on the tiled floor with her. The small bathroom was narrow, but he managed to pull her into his arms. “I’m not leaving,” he said against her hair as he stroked her back. “So just cry on me. I’ve got you.”
She was too distraught to fight him. So she did what he said to do: she slumped in his embrace and cried brokenly onto his shoulder. He held her close, rubbed her back, said nothing, and let her cry. After a long while, her sobs began to ebb. Just when he was about to try to start her talking, he heard the dressing room door open and shut, and a few footsteps.
“What the hell?!” Kelvin looked down at them from the bathroom doorway.
“I don’t know what happened,” Dane told him. “I found her here, like this, about twenty minutes ago.”
“Jesus Christ . . .” Sucking in a breath, Kelvin knelt down beside them. “Honey, what happened?”
“I . . . I can’t,” she managed. “I can’t . . . perform . . .”
“Of course not,” Dane said. “Kelvin, can you play all night without her? People get sick. Julia’s sick tonight.”
“Absolutely,” Kelvin said. “Yeah, I’ll play, don’t worry.” He reached out to caress Julia’s hair. “Honey, please. You’re scaring me. Did . . . someone hurt you?” He gasped as another thought occurred to him. “Liam didn’t come back, did he?”
At that, she started to cry harder again. “Read the letter, Kel,” she moaned.
“What letter?” Kelvin asked.
“On—on the couch,” she sobbed.
“I’ll go look,” Kelvin said, rising to his feet. As he walked away, Dane’s hands caressed her back, cradled her head, and didn’t stop.
“Was it Liam?” Dane asked her. “Did he come back? Did he do this to you?”
“Kind of,” she whispered.
Dane’s blood rushed like molten lava, wondering how the hell that asshole had gotten past Tonio and security. When he got done with them . . .
Reading as he moved, Kelvin returned to the bathroom door with a few sheets of folded paper in his hands. As he read, his brows puckered at first. Dane watched as his face changed, morphing into a mask of horror. “Holy shit,” he kept whispering as he read. “Holy fucking shit.”
Dane was ready to jump out of his skin. “What? Tell me.”
Kelvin held up a finger and kept reading. When he was done, he stared down at Julia, who had finally stopped crying and was down to sniffling. “I can’t believe it,” he breathed. “Do you believe him? Any of this?”
Julia nodded. She finally lifted her face from Dane’s shoulder. Looking at her slammed Dane’s chest like a physical blow. Mascara ringed her eyes, which were swollen and bloodshot. Her face was blotchy and wet with tears. It hurt his heart to see her this way.
“Why not?” she said to Kelvin, her voice raspy and rough from the crying jag. “It makes sense. He was an addict, he’s clean now—he’s working the program. You know, owning his mistakes, coming clean. Why else would he have come here at all? What would he have to gain?”
“Maybe he was hoping to get you back,” Kelvin said. “Or, at least, back in bed.”
“No.” Julia shook her head hard. “No. From the minute he walked in that night, he said he had something important to tell me. He kept repeating it, over and over, but I didn’t give him the chance to talk.”
“If all he wanted to do was talk,” Dane asked quietly, “why’d he have you up against the wall like that?”
“Because I pissed him off,” Julia said. “He got frantic. I tried to leave, to walk out on him. He insisted I had to listen, so that was what he did to get me to stay.”
“He’s a douche bag,” Kelvin seethed. “And I’m sorry, but I don’t know if you should believe this.”
Dane strove for calm as he said, “Would one of you please tell me what’s going on here?”
Julia shifted off Dane’s lap and tried to stand. Kelvin shot out a hand to help her rise. Dane got to his feet as well, and Kelvin handed him the letter as he pulled Julia out of the bathroom and over to the couch.
Dane watched them go, watched Kelvin put a protective arm around her and lower her to the couch, then grab the box of tissues and hand it to her. Then he started to read the letter.
When he was done, his heart was hammering against his ribs and he realized his teeth were clenched, his jaw was set so tightly. He leaned against the frame of the bathroom door and looked across the room at Julia. Jesus, what a story. He ached for her.
She was eerily silent now, sipping water from a bottle and staring off at nothing.
“I’m shot,” she said quietly. “I have to go home.”
“Are you sure about that?” Kelvin asked.
Dane crossed the room to sit on the coffee table to face her. “Why don’t you stay in my suite tonight? Just go upstairs and—”
“I need to be alone,” she said. “I just . . . need to take this all in. Think.”
Dane swallowed back the rejection. He knew she was a mess and let the sting go. “I’ll get you your own room, then.”
She shook her head. “I want to go home. I want to crawl into my own bed and be by myself, Dane.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw, but he huffed out a shallow breath. Don’t manage my life . . . her words from before echoed in his head. “Okay. I’ll call you a car. You can’t get on the trains like this. At least let me do that for you.”
She finally nodded, and murmured, “That’d be great, actually. Thank you.” Her head lifted and her eyes met his. She frowned in confusion, as if seeing him for the first time. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t getting back until Saturday.”
The corner of his mouth twisted ruefully. “I was done earlier than expected. I got back to New York a few hours ago. I wanted to surprise you.”
She snorted. “Yeah. Well. Surprise.” She twirled a finger in the air. “Woo hoo.”
“Julia . . .” He took her hands in his, but she pulled them away.
“I appreciate what you both did here, I really do.” She stood up and headed for the bathroom. “But I have to be alone right now. I’m sorry.”
“You’ve got nothing to apologize for,” Kelvin said.
Dane stared after her. She went to the bathroom sink and splashed water on her face.
“She’s dying inside,” Kelvin whispered sadly. “I’m going to kill them. Both of them. Max and Liam. My God . . .”
“It’s unthinkable,” Dane said. He kept his voice low. “When’s the last time she saw her son?”
“Years,” Kelvin said.
Dane was surprised. In his mind, he’d always thought Colin to be around ten or maybe twelve years old. But years? The kid had to be in his late teens. He’d never asked, and now wasn’t the time. Julia needed comforting. Support. And Dane could already see she wasn’t going to let him, or anyone, give it to her.
“You sure I can’t get you a room?” he asked her.
“No thank you,” she said. She ran her hands through her thick hair, pulling the tangled flames into a ponytail and securing it with an elastic band.
Dane’s heart sank a little. He could feel her withdrawing from him. Only a few minutes before, she’d been clinging to him as if for her life as she cried. He’d held her close and tight and soothed her as best he could. Now, she barely would meet his eyes. Now, it was as if he was watching her put her armor back on, piece by piece. Swallowing hard, he exhaled long and slow, then pulled his phone out of his pocket and arranged for a car to take her home.
When he ended the call and put the phone back in his pocket, Kelvin got to his feet. Julia was still in the bathroom. “Can you stay with her, Boss? She’s a little better
now, and it’s almost show time. I’ve got to get out there if you want me to—”
“Sure, I’ve got this. I’m here, you go. Thanks.”
Kelvin looked down at him for a long beat. “You’re a good man. But just so you know, when she gets upset, she withdraws. Goes inside herself, like a turtle. Needs to be alone to deal with things. It’s not you.”
“Thanks for the tip,” Dane said. Somehow, knowing that still didn’t make him feel any better. He wanted to hold her all night, make sure she felt safe, make sure she fell asleep in his arms and knew he was there for her. Turtle mode didn’t work for him. But . . . right now, it wasn’t about him. It was about her, and whatever she needed. He scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck.
“You, uh . . .” Kelvin gave a slow nod. “You were there for her tonight. Thanks for that.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Dane said.
He watched Kelvin go to the wardrobe closet and pull out one of his suits, then head to the bathroom. He and Julia exchanged a few words he couldn’t hear, and Julia grasped her friend in a tight hug. Then she exited the bathroom and closed the door so Kelvin could change his clothes.
With a sigh, she went to the makeup table and sat down.
“Car’ll be outside in ten minutes,” Dane said to her back.
Finally, she met his eyes in the mirror. “Thank you for that.”
“My pleasure.”
She nodded absently, then said, “I’ll be here tomorrow night. For work. I’ll be fine, I’ll do the show. I just can’t now. I’m sorry.”
“I know you can’t. It’s fine. We’ll say you got food poisoning, whatever. You’ll go on tomorrow.” He stared at her, wanting to say something to comfort her and having no idea what. “That letter . . .”
“Please,” she cut him off. “Not now. I’m so drained.”
“I’m sure you are,” he murmured. “I’m glad I found you.”
She blushed and her eyes flickered away, down to her hands. She reached for her cosmetics bag.
“I wish you’d talk to me about it,” he said quietly. “When you’re ready.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything. She stared at herself in the mirror for a few seconds. Then she met his eyes again in the reflection and whispered, “I don’t think I can see you for a while.”
His heart plummeted. “What? Why not?”
“I just . . .” Her face flushed again. She shook her head and studied her nails. “I need space. I need to be alone for a while.”
Dane stood and crossed the room in two long strides. He stood behind her, looked into the mirror, and said, “Don’t do this.”
Her eyes met his again. “I’m not right for you, Dane. We both know that.”
“I know no such thing,” he ground out. His mind spun as he tried to figure out her reasoning. “Why do you think you’re not right for me?”
She only stared back at him in the mirror.
He gripped her shoulders and turned her around to face him. “I know you’re hurting, and you want to be left alone. But I don’t want to leave you alone to go crawl in a hole by yourself and get lost there.”
“That’s exactly what I need to do right now,” she whispered hotly.
“I get that, but I just don’t think—”
“I don’t care what you think! This is what I need to do!” she cried. She shoved his hands from her shoulders and stood to face him. “Dammit, Dane, you don’t always know what’s best for me. Just back off !”
Kelvin burst out of the bathroom. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Dane said.
“Everything,” Julia said. She grabbed her bag from the floor. “I have to go.”
“Julia, wait—” Dane reached for her arm, but she shook off his hand. She left the room as quickly as she could. His heart thumped in his chest as his stomach roiled.
“What just happened?” Kelvin asked.
“I think she just dumped me,” Dane answered, staring after her.
Chapter Seventeen
Julia stared across her bedroom, out the window, but not really seeing. Sunlight filtered in, streaming thick rays of bright morning gold into her room. The only sound was that of her air conditioner, humming from its perch in the other window. She curled up into a tighter ball beneath her pale yellow comforter and stared into the distance. As it had since she’d returned home, her body felt lifeless, but her mind kept spinning in endless circles.
She hadn’t gotten out of bed since she’d hit it the night before, except to pee. She had no appetite. She had downed a few glasses of water, and that was it. Sleep had finally taken her around 3:00 A.M., but it had been a tortured, restless sleep. Since nine, she’d just been lying in bed, staring into space, thinking about everything. Going back down roads of memory she’d closed the gates to years ago.
It was all like something out of a bad movie, whether what Liam had written was true or not. It was mind-boggling. To think that Max would have gone to all that trouble, been so devious, underhanded, and scheming . . . not just to her, and to their son, but also to drag a heroin addict back under . . . Max was a true sociopath. And that was who had raised Colin all this time. It made her literally sick to think of that.
Colin. Her sweet boy. As an infant, they’d been inseparable. She had been his world, and vice versa. She’d always wondered what horrible, degrading lies Max had fed to their son to keep him so firmly away from her. Considering that broke her heart each time she wondered, and almost broke her spirit, even still. An innocent boy, used as a tool for a spoiled psycho of a man who wanted a trophy for his family. Who knew what kind of person Colin had become as a result?
And Liam. If everything he said was true, his life had been destroyed too. She had sympathy for him. She did. He’d been courageous to come and find her after all this time, and then to write that letter even after he’d been thrown out of the hotel. He hadn’t had to tell her the truth. She never would have known, and he could have just gone on with his life. But he’d told her. And over the years, nearly killed himself to numb his self-loathing for his part in it. Yet another life wrecked by Max’s hand.
Max. Damn him to hell. Thinking about him made her blood burn like volcanic lava. Max had to answer for his crimes somehow. She wished she had the power, the leverage, the evidence, anything . . . but she didn’t, and she knew it. The feeling of powerlessness she’d suffered for so many years had returned and swallowed her whole. She couldn’t get out of bed. She didn’t even want to. If she hadn’t promised Dane she’d show up for work that night, she likely would stay in bed for days.
Dane. She sighed for the hundredth time as she thought of him. How she’d been ready to let him in more. How they’d been growing closer, inch by inch, and how it scared her but thrilled her too. How she’d been planning, when he got back from his trip, to tell him how she felt. How she’d been . . . hopeful.
But not now. No way. He’d read that letter. He’d seen her in a ball on the bathroom floor. He’d held her as she cried and she’d needed that, needed him, more than she’d thought possible, but . . .
All those things combined—and the sad, pitying look on his face when he came to sit with her after reading the letter . . . she was horrified and humiliated. Now, to him, she must seem like not much fun anymore—and worse, weak and pathetic. A sniveling girl, not an empowered woman who stood on her own. A woman who’d been stupid enough to be set up . . . so she’d pushed him away last night. Shoved him away, before he had the chance to do it to her.
She didn’t want to face him. Hell, she didn’t want to face herself. That was the truth of it.
Her eyes slipped closed before the tears started again. She drifted in and out of sleep for a while, she wasn’t really sure. A few hours, or a few minutes? The sunlight shifted position outside, and soon she knew it was past midday. She yanked the blanket up around her chin, then her mouth, almost concealing herself completely. She wished she could disappear, just vanish into thin air. The heartach
e was all-consuming.
The phone rang a few times. She ignored it. Finally, her stomach rumbled so hard that it hurt, and her hands and arms felt shaky from low blood sugar. She had to eat something. Slowly, she rose from bed, dismayed to realize she was light-headed from lack of food. Cursing herself for being an idiot, she dragged herself to the kitchen. She gulped down some orange juice straight from the carton to give her blood sugar a boost, then quickly made and ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The phone rang again. She ignored it again.
Trying not to become consumed with hatred toward her ex-husband was the only thing that kept her from focusing all that hatred upon herself. Of course she was responsible for part of it; she’d made some bad choices. But Colin shouldn’t have had to pay the price for that. Max was the one who had to pay for this horror show. And she had to reach Colin somehow; she had to do something.
As she put her plate in the sink, something started to bubble inside her, from a deep and dark place. She leaned against the counter and closed her eyes against it.
God, she hated him. She hated what that man had done to her life. To their son.
Red-hot rage seared through her like an electric current. But she stopped trying to swallow it, and finally welcomed it. Time to stop moping, get back up, and fight. When she was sad, she was paralyzed. When that ebbed and she got angry, she was revitalized. Now, she grew more than angry as she thought about it over and over, in different ways and scenarios. She was furious. She wanted to take an action, to strike back. But what could she do, really? “Think, Julia,” she spat at herself. “Think!”
She started to pace her apartment, walking from room to room. When the urge hit her, she stopped in her tracks. She had nothing to lose.
She grabbed the cordless phone from the tiny table next to her couch, then went to comb through her old address book—still a paper book, with all the entries made in ink. Before she could think it through too much and possibly change her mind, she pounded in Max’s phone number.
It rang once. Twice. Was it still a valid number? she suddenly wondered. She hadn’t called his house in years. But on the third ring, a familiar male voice answered. “Hello?”
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