Out of the Blue

by Dee J. Adams

  “Past tense, Jeff. We’re finished.” She saw what he was thinking by the way he settled his groin in front of her face. “Get the hell off me.”

  “I think you need a reminder of the good times, baby.” He unbuttoned his suit coat and exposed the tented fabric of his pants.

  “I don’t want this, Jeff. Get off me.” Casey struggled beneath him, angling to get her trapped hand free. Where the hell was Zoe? She looked toward the door willing her big sister to save her.

  “Oh you want it, baby. I know you do.” With his free hand, he undid his button and the hiss of the zipper followed. “I’ve got your breakfast right here, Casey. Open up.”

  Gritting her teeth, Casey wiggled her hand free at the same time a knock sounded at the door. Jeff’s head snapped to the side and Casey grabbed his family jewels and squeezed at the same time she pushed him off her lap. He crashed into the coffee table on his back.

  “Casey?” Zoe’s worried voice sounded outside and a second later, her sister’s key fumbled in the lock. She stormed in just as Casey scrambled away from a raging Jeff. “Hey!” she said, powering forward. Casey loved her big sister’s spirit. It didn’t matter that Casey had six inches on her sis, because Zoe rocked a giant personality.

  Every inch of Casey trembled in a mix of shock and immeasurable relief. With shaking hands, she reached for the phone that Jeff had knocked over when he fell. “I’m calling the cops.” She hated her fractured voice.

  Somehow, Jeff had got his pants zipped and he stood, looking hardly any worse than when he barged through her door. “Don’t bother.” He straightened his tie and tipped his head to the side, cracking vertebrae in his neck. “I’m leaving. For now.” He pointed a finger at her. “We’re not done, Casey. You can count on that.” He stalked past a gaping Zoe and she slammed the door on his back, her loose dark curls bouncing with the effort.

  “What the hell was that?” she asked, turning slowly back toward Casey. “Oh, honey,” Zoe said as she got a good look at her. She must have been a wreck because Zoe reached her in a heartbeat and enfolded her in a sisterly embrace. “What happened?”

  “He knocked on the door. I thought it was you and opened it before checking. He forced his way in and…”

  “That good for nothing pig.” She gave her a big squeeze before pulling back and meeting her gaze. “You should call the cops anyway and report it.”

  “They’re not going to do anything. I don’t have a mark on me. He just scared me.” Though he would’ve done way worse if Zoe hadn’t come when she did. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.” On shaky knees, Casey gathered her suitcase and purse and followed Zoe out the front door, locking it behind her. “I’m sure glad I gave you a key.”

  “Me too.” Zoe stopped, forcing Casey to stop behind her. The afternoon sun hid behind some fluffy clouds and a light breeze drifted through the trees. Not a bad day if Jeff hadn’t ruined it.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Pointing to the street, Zoe stood taller. “He’s still here.”

  Casey darted a glance to the black Hummer parked two buildings away. Maybe she should call the cops. But even as she lifted her phone, the engine roared to life and Jeff peeled out. “Don’t come back!” Casey yelled to the departing vehicle.

  “Seriously,” Zoe said, resuming their walk. “Are you okay? What’d he say? What’d he want? What was he doing when I came in?”

  Casey hadn’t told anyone about the extent of Jeff’s personality. Her family knew she was having second thoughts, but she’d never expressed her fear of his dark side. The few times she’d talked about it, no one believed her because he acted like such a nice guy with people around. They thought his need to touch her in public was cute. They saw a man with his hand on her waist or around her shoulder, but didn’t realize the ironclad force of his hold. They watched him shower her with gifts, but didn’t know it was because he forced her to swallow his come or because he yelled at her for some inane reason like folded laundry.

  Unsure how to answer Zoe’s questions, Casey was as honest as she could be. “I’ll be okay after I stop shaking. He said he wanted to get back together and of course he doesn’t want me to do the show. As far as what he was doing when you came in… I think he was about to rape me.”

  Zoe turned abruptly. “What? Jeff? Rape you?”

  “I’m telling you, Zoe. You don’t know the guy. I don’t think anyone does. I spent four years with him and the last two were nothing like the first two. Look, don’t tell Mom and Dad. They’re still hoping we’ll work things out and they spin everything like it’s my fault.”

  “Why don’t you tell them?” Zoe asked, unlocking her car with the key fob. A double chirp sounded. “They don’t want you unhappy, you know.”

  “I know, but they see financial success as happiness. They don’t get it. Honestly, how does it make me look to admit that I let a man treat me this way for so long? I just want to put it behind me.”

  Zoe opened the trunk of her white BMW. “I get it, but I don’t like it.”

  Casey shoved her stuff inside and took a deep breath, keeping an eye on the corner of the road, making sure that Jeff didn’t come back for a repeat performance. She didn’t think he would. Not with witnesses. Casey hugged her sister. “Thank you for coming when you did. You saved me.”

  Zoe squeezed her tight. “That’s what big sister’s do.” She patted Casey’s back. “C’mon, let’s go pick up Vic. Don’t want to be late for this thing.”

  The thing that could change her life.

  Chapter Eight

  Brendan tossed his razor into the toilet kit and zipped it up just as someone pounded on his door. “I’m coming. Hang on!” He checked his ear before leaving the bathroom—a habit ingrained for several years now—then tossed the kit into his duffle bag and crossed the living room. “You’re early,” he said to his brothers as he opened the door. He made a last sweep of the apartment to check he didn’t forget anything. Nothing obvious glared at him. The place seemed hardly lived in since Blake had gotten serious with his girlfriend. Brendan figured those two would be moving in together any day now, and he’d have to find a new roommate.

  Eric sauntered in, head down as he punched something into his phone. “Had to get gas. I expected more of a line.” That was Eric. Oldest brother, always making sure everything happened according to plan. He’d come straight from work and wore a dark suit with a blue dress shirt and matching tie.

  “Besides, I’d rather be early than late,” Danny said, bringing up the rear.

  That got a laugh out of Brendan. “Since when? You’re the King of Late.” He checked out the faded jeans and worn gray T-shirt his brother wore. As usual, Danny did what he wanted and not what was asked. Brendan shouldn’t be surprised.

  Eric’s focus lifted from his phone. “Since we went to a party last week and he was too late to get dibs on Laura.”

  “Lori. Her name was Lori,” Danny cut in. Of course it was. Because Danny did everything according to how it might affect him getting a woman. Not that he ever had problem getting women, but whenever he couldn’t get a woman, look out. The game was on. Danny loved the chase.

  “Laura, Lori. Whatever. Now he’s all about getting to places early so he doesn’t miss anything.” Eric scowled at his phone.

  “Wonders never cease,” Brendan muttered. He gestured to Danny’s clothing. “I see you dressed for the occasion.”

  The sarcasm wasn’t lost on Danny and he looked down at his attire. “What? This is what I always wear.”

  Brendan rolled his eyes. “I know. That’s my point. You could’ve worn something a little less…used.”

  “It’s not like we’re going to be on camera,” Danny said.

  “At least not yet,” Eric added, shifting his gaze from his screen as he pocketed his phone.

  “No, I told you guys they changed the opening to include the drop off. That means America gets to meet you too, D-hole. Right now.”

  Eric’s brows slanted in annoy
ance. “Hey. Respect,” he said, punching Brendan’s shoulder, but he didn’t have much heat behind it… At least not as much as it could have or would have if Brendan had said E-hole. Eric took his role as the oldest brother very seriously and basically took any opportunity to lord his bulk over his little brothers as often as possible. Not that any of them were little any more, but Eric did have a bit more muscle than the rest of them.

  “What?” Danny looked panicked as he turned to his Eric. “You didn’t tell me this. When did this happen?”

  Brendan held back a groan. “I told you both a couple of weeks ago when Mom had us over for dinner.”

  Eric squinted as he thought back. “Did you really? I don’t remember.” Not that it mattered since he wore a suit.

  “Because you had your head buried in your phone like you always do.” Brendan made a last run through of the apartment. “Okay. I’m good to go. Blake should be back from his trip tomorrow.”

  “We know,” Danny said, but he had his eyes on Brendan’s shirt, a faded denim with navy stitching. “Hey, what if I borrow the blue shirt Mom gave you for Christmas. That would work for this drop off.”

  “Packed it.” Brendan grinned at the disappointment on Danny’s face.

  “Blake’s got to have something I can borrow.” Danny strode to Blake’s room where they all knew he’d find something in the closet. Since he started dating his girlfriend, Abbey, Blake’s wardrobe had taken a turn for the better and they all benefitted from it.

  Eric glanced at Brendan. “Hey, did you find out who the judges are yet?”

  “Not yet.” Brendan moved by him to grab a hoodie off the counter. The producers had been hush-hush about all aspects of this show. Brendan was practically going in blind.

  “Whoa!” Eric grabbed his arm and pulled him back and Brendan knew from the trajectory of his stare exactly what he was looking at. “Danny, c’mere,” he called. “Check it out.” His eyes narrowed. “When did you do that?”

  Danny came into the room, throwing one of Blake’s new shirts over his head, a moss green pullover that Abbey said set off the red highlights in Blake’s hair. “What? I’m busy raiding a closet. Dude, I have to ask Abbey to buy my clothes too. Blake’s got some nice shit in there.” He looked between them both. “What? What’s wrong?”

  “Check it.” Eric pointed to Brendan’s ear…his new prosthetic left ear.

  “Whoa! You got it? When? Why didn’t you tell us?” He lifted Brendan’s hair and inspected it more closely. “That is one fine piece of work. You can’t even tell. Do you like it? Can you feel it?”

  Brendan slapped his hand away. “Get off me. I picked it up right before I went to Hawaii. It was ready early.”

  “Ha, see! I told you that chick liked you. What was her name? Annie, Audrey?”

  “Andrea, dickhead. Andrea Rimmer.”

  Danny nodded. “That’s it. She was hot. You get a vibe from her?” Danny waggled his brows and Brendan just rolled his eyes. A picture of Casey suddenly popped in his head and soured his mood in an instant. “No, I didn’t get a vibe from her. I was only a job.” A job to her and one night stand to Casey. Still pissed him off.

  Eric still had his gaze locked onto Brendan’s new ear. “Looks good, bro.” He gave him a half smile. “Just not sure why you’re doing it now. It’s been a few years. I didn’t think it bothered you anymore.”

  “It’s not that it bothers me as much as it bothers other people. Makes them uncomfortable. I don’t want to freak anyone out with the real me. I especially don’t want the questions. If I don’t wear the prosthetic, someone might connect me to Jess’s movie and I don’t want to anyone on the show to think I’d use it as leverage for votes.”

  By the time his sister’s movie had been released, she had married her husband and changed her last name. The movie about their ordeal had used fictional names so the St. Johns were still relative unknowns if no one counted the national news of their rescue, but even that got buried pretty quickly because of a big news day with someone trying to get into the White House and a downed plane in the ocean.

  Eric nodded his understanding. “Is it uncomfortable? I mean to go from not having one to wearing it all the time… Seems like a stretch.”

  “It’s not a big deal.” But Brendan actually had the same worry. What if he rolled over in the middle of the night and it fell off? What if cameras caught it somehow? Screw it. He’d rather risk it than go in knowing what the outcome would be. “Remember, I’m a bartender at Stanley’s. Not a word that I work for Seger Hughes. If they find out, I could be disqualified.”

  “Why?” Eric asked. “He has nothing to do with it, does he?”

  “No, but just the fact that he’s in the music business…they might think that gives me an upper hand. I don’t know, but I don’t want to risk it.” He picked up his duffel bag and headed to the door. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”

  The three of them headed to Eric’s gray RAV4 while the early summer sun peeked out from the clouds. Danny glanced over his shoulder. “What did you end up telling Seger to get the time off? I mean, if you make it through the whole thing, you’ll be gone six weeks. Isn’t he going to miss you?”

  “He’s taking a three month break to write and spend time with Ashley at home. The timing couldn’t have been better. He needs me less when he’s at home than on the road.” Brendan tossed his bag into the back seat and followed it in. “I told him Jess needed me for a couple months while she’s in pre-production for her new movie.” Brendan shrugged. “He was fine with it.”

  “Wow. I wish I had a boss like that,” Eric scoffed. He worked in a law office and Brendan got the impression he hated it.

  “And what happens when he sees you on the show?” Danny asked, bringing up the elephant in the room.

  “He hardly watches TV and he hates reality shows with a passion.”

  “I thought you did too,” Danny said.

  “I do. Did. Used to.” Brendan felt the need to explain. “Look, this thing is huge. The prize money alone is enough to go for it, but a record contract on top of it? Trust me, I never thought I’d be here or get this far and I have no clue if I’ll make it to the end or even win the damn thing, but I know I have to try. It’s my future.”

  Eric glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “I promise we won’t screw up. At least, not intentionally.”

  “Very reassuring,” Brendan mumbled.

  “Remember,” Casey said from the passenger seat as her sister pulled into the television lot. She looked between Zoe and her best friend in the back seat. “Don’t screw up.”

  “Seriously, Casey…” Zoe said, winding her way slowly through the parking lot. Her sister looked exceptionally hot—as in smoking hot—with her makeup and hair done to perfection. Casey had been so wigged out about Jeff that she hadn’t noticed until they’d gotten in the car. Same with Vic. Sometimes Casey felt like the odd woman out when she was seen in public with these two women. It didn’t matter that she towered over them both because they had bucket loads of confidence. Maybe that’s why they connected so quickly once Casey introduced them four years ago. “How could we screw up?”

  “I don’t know. Just don’t say anything embarrassing or be ditzy. That goes for you too,” Casey said, pinning her best friend with a pointed glare. Vic had straightened her normally wavy—and natural—strawberry blond hair. She had her mother’s Irish looks from her creamy skin to her brown eyes.

  Vic smacked her lips together to even out her pink lipstick. “I haven’t seen you this nervous since your engagement party.”

  “Haha,” Casey said, smoothing her hair. The reality of marrying Jeff had set in the night of her engagement party. She’d had more jitters than a cat trapped in a dog pound. Just like then, the actuality of what she was about to do set in. In just a few hours, she’d be on national television, vying for the chance of a lifetime. Her stomach turned over and her palms slicked.

  Zoe parked the car and the three of them made las
t minute adjustments to their makeup before heading to the four-story building next to a row of stages. Would she be on one of those sets? What would it look like? She had so many questions rolling around in her head and none of them would be answered until she was already in the hot seat.

  Casey hefted her tote bag and rolled her suitcase behind her, praying she’d make it long enough to warrant all the packing.

  “Don’t worry,” Vic whispered as they reached the door. She flipped her hair over her shoulder where it fell in a sheet of strawberry gloss. “You’re going to do great. I think you’re going to win this thing.”

  “If only.” Casey’s heart slammed out of control and the show was hours away. How would she survive once the cameras started rolling?

  A placard pointed straight down the hallway in front of them indicating the Write Your Ticket offices just ahead.

  “Okay,” Casey said a minute later, as Zoe put her hand on the knob. “Let’s do this thing.”

  Zoe gave her a wide grin, opened the door with a flourish and Casey led the way inside with her back straight and a smile on her face. Who knew when the cameras might be rolling? Half a dozen desks littered the large office space with closed-door offices scattered around the perimeter. A mammoth copy machine sat against the far wall with a large corkboard hanging near it.

  A young woman sat at the first desk to her left and Casey stopped in front of her. “Hi. I’m—”

  “Casey Turner!” The girl stood up and put her hand out. With her boy short hair and lower lip piercing, she struck Casey as a rebel. “I’m so happy to meet you! I’m Olivia. We’ve been expecting you. Today’s the big day. It’s so awesome!” Okay, an excited rebel. “Why don’t you follow me and I’ll take you to the introduction room.”

  “The introduction room?” Vic asked.

  “Yes. It’s where we shoot everyone introducing themselves. We’ll get the three of you together then get each one of you separately.”

  Casey’s stomach flipped. Not a minute wasted. The phrase be careful what you wish for suddenly branded itself in her brain. She’d wished, hoped and prayed to be picked as one of the contestants on this show. Now that it was actually happening, her stomach was flopping around more than a guppy out of water.