by A. C. Arthur
“Adriana,” he said her name softly, his fingers touching her back.
She yanked away and attempted to stand, to run. But the sheet was still twisted around her legs and she stumbled, gasping as she expected to fall flat on the hard wood floor. Parker caught her before that could happen, wrapping her in his arms and turning her toward him before she could even utter a word.
“I can’t do this,” she mumbled against his chest. “I can’t, Parker. I just can’t.”
He continued to hold her close, smoothing down her hair as he did. “Tell me why.”
They were three simple words, a quiet request and Adriana hated herself for them just as she had each morning after an eating binge. Could she tell him? How would he react? Would it change anything? None of the answers that played in her mind were good.
“Does it have to do with when you were sick?”
She looked up at him then, tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let her. “How do you—” the question stalled as she already knew the answer.
Part of the reason her parents hadn’t wanted child stars in their household was because they’d cherished their privacy. Beatriz had warned Adriana of the price of fame the night she’d packed up to move to New York and being the headstrong and tenacious eighteen year old she was back then, Adriana had ignored her, brushing off the warning as silly. Two years later she’d found out the hard way how right her mother was. So Parker already knew, just as Jaydon and probably the entire Donovan family. Everyone knew. Or at least they thought they did. This time she did pull away from him, only because she’d pushed at his chest so hard she thought she might actually knock him down. Of course he’d only stumbled but it had worked and she was free of him. Skirting around him she yanked the duvet from the floor where it had fallen in the night and wrapped it around her body, moving until she was now standing at the head of the bed on the side he’d slept on, away from him and away from those damned windows.
“You think you know everything about me,” she started.
“No” Parker said when he turned to her, taking a step and then sitting on the bed. “I don’t know enough about you. But I’d like to, Adriana. I’d like to know what sometimes puts that sad look in your eyes and why you walk around as if you’re doing some sort of penance on earth. I want to know why you’re afraid to eat when you are the sexiest and most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
She shook her head rapidly, hating that the food and the disease were the first things to concern people about her.
“That’s not it!” she found herself yelling. “That’s not all there is to me or to what happened to me.”
“Okay, then tell me the rest. Tell me so I can help you,” he implored.
“I don’t,” she said, not sure if she should finish, but doing so anyway. “I don’t need your help. It’s my problem.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw and he was silent for a moment, then he nodded. “That’s fine. But I’d like to hear the story anyway.”
The story. The dark night. The beginning of her end.
She would tell him, she decided in those seconds. She would tell him what she hadn’t told anyone besides her therapist because she needed to. Not so he could help her she realized, but so that she could finally help herself. She had no sure reason why her confession would go to this man, at this very moment. All she knew for certain was that this was the right thing to do, and for whatever reason, Parker was the right person to do it with—just like last night.
“I was raped, Parker. One night after wrapping up a long and tedious photo shoot, the designer who told me he had been enamored with my body from the start and had hence designed an entire line of clothes inspired by me, ripped the three thousand dollar dress he’d made from my body and raped me.”
Parker stood then, his gloriously naked body seeming much larger and stronger than she’d realized. With his hands clenched at his sides he opened his mouth to say something, but Adriana raised a hand to stop him.
“You wanted to hear it and now you will, until the end.”
When he only nodded his response she continued.
“He told me how much I’d wanted him, how I knew he’d fallen hard for me and how that meant we should be together. He talked about all the other models that would kill to be in my position—flat on my back as he held an arm pressed into my throat and forced his unwanted erection into me. He said I should be grateful and that I’d better not think about saying anything to anyone because he would not only ruin me, but my entire family as well.” She inhaled a shaky breath, clenching the duvet tighter around her body as she shivered.
“When he was finished he left me on that floor bleeding and staring up at the ceiling still praying and hoping…that someone would come along and stop him. But they never did. Nobody stopped him and nobody helped me. I lay there for hours and hours until the pain dulled, the anger subsided and only guilt and shame were left. When I finally got up and went into the bathroom I stayed in the shower for hours more, until the water was iced cold and my teeth chattered. My stomach growled when I stepped out and I thought that I hadn’t eaten since early the previous morning and that had only been a cup of yogurt. I never ate during a shoot, or drank anything because there could be no changes in my body at all, no bloating, nothing.
“So I ordered some food. Pizzas and sodas and cheesy fries with bacon. Room service rolled in three carts and before I could stop myself I’d eaten it all. I’d even thought about calling down for more.”
She blinked, felt the warmth of the tears and lowered her head. “I sat on that floor again, looking up to the ceiling praying and hoping. Nobody came. And I thought it was because of me. Nobody was going to help me get out of the mess I’d created for myself. My mother had tried to warn me about the lifestyle and the different people, but I was stubborn. I wanted the success, the notoriety and look what it had gotten me. Look where’d I’d ended up. I finally cried then, for maybe an hour or until I felt like there couldn’t possibly be anymore tears left inside. And then I went into the bathroom. I stayed in there for the rest of the night, trying to purge myself of it all—the recriminations, the pain, the hurt and disgust.”
“Adriana,” he said and she looked up, shocked to see that he’d come over and was now standing directly in front of her.
She shook her head, even as Parker reached up to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “Please don’t, Parker. I don’t need saving, not now. It’s way too late for that,” she said feeling as if for once in her life she’d spoken the absolute truth. It was too late for the handsome prince like Parker to come along and whisk all her problems away. But at least she’d have last night and how perfect it had felt to be in his arms.
“I’m going to get a shower now and then I want to leave. If you could call me a cab I would appreciate it.”
He shook his head.
“Parker, please, I don’t need your arrogant wisdom right now. I need to go home and get ready for work. I need to get on with my life and I don’t have time for your practiced chivalry,” she told him.
He placed two fingers over her lips until she quieted.
There was more she thought she should say to him. She could tell him that last night was a one-shot deal and ask that their professional relationship remain intact. Or she could grab hold of that portion of her that craved being in his arms once more. She did neither, but stood staring blankly at him instead. It seemed courage had also come with the rising sun, only to be snatched down defiantly the moment he simply said, “Take your shower. I’ll drive you home.”
Chapter 7
Parker pulled into the driveway outside of his parents’ Spanish style two story home in the Coastal Accolades area of Biscayne Bay. The saltwater scent clung to the air as his car came to a stop and he switched off the ignition. He was not in the mood for this today so he let his head fall back against the headrest while he got himself together mentally.
It had been a rough two days and while he was normally the one to reb
ound quickly, he’d been trudging through the hours, just barely keeping his head afloat with all that was on his mind.
On Friday morning, he’d driven to Excalibur and watched Adriana walk into the garage where she’d parked her car yesterday afternoon. She’d done so with her head held high, her shoulders squared and that black dress as sexy on her as it was the day before. She’d thanked him for the ride when she climbed out of his car and had not turned back or said anything else before getting into her car and pulling off. He told himself that he was fine with it, that under the circumstances he understood. But that was a lie. Not that he didn’t understand she had been through something and telling him about all of it earlier that morning hadn’t felt like she was going through it again, because that, he totally got. It was the silent treatment she was now giving him and that sad as hell look that was firmly planted in her eyes again that was driving him mad.
He’d taken the elevator up to his office arriving much earlier than his normal time since Adriana had to get her car then go home and get changed to go to the studio. The fifth floor was quiet at just fifteen minutes until seven and for that Parker was grateful. He hadn’t been in his normal cheerful mood, so while he would have still greeted everyone politely, there would have been no quips about last night’s game or questions about what everyone had planned for the Mother’s Day weekend. He had been relieved that there was nobody else in yet as he made his way to his office and locked the door behind him. Similar to the way he had when he’d brought Adriana back here yesterday.
The second he was in his office, he’d sent a quick and annoyed glance at the couch before moving past it to get to his desk, where he dropped his brief case and removed his suit jacket. His tie still hung around his neck where he’d draped it because he hadn’t wanted to keep Adriana waiting this morning. He sat in the chair, reaching across his desk to boot up his computer, still ignoring the tie. Once the computer was ready Parker typed in Adriana’s name and watched while hundreds of pictures appeared under the images link, and various websites were listed where her name had been mentioned. He clicked on the first one, thought it was too recent and decided to add a year behind her name in his search. Then he settled in to find out who the hell had raped her and thought they’d gotten away with it. Because if it was the last thing Parker did he was determined to have a face-to-face with the bastard in the very near future.
Parker searched for a few hours until he finally found a lead on the designer that could have attacked Adriana. Unfortunately, he had meetings to attend at that point, so his investigation was temporarily abandoned. The meetings had lasted until well after six in the evening and he’d finally taken that time to call Adriana. Her phone had gone straight to voice mail.
On Saturday morning while Parker was at the gym, he had entertained the thought of going home to shower and change, then heading over to her apartment to surprise her. It was a nice day so he thought maybe he could take her out on his parents’ yacht for the rest of the afternoon. He could pick up a picnic lunch and they’d stay out on the water for a few lazy hours. At the last minute he remembered his mother’s teachings and preachings and acknowledged that showing up unannounced at her place probably wasn’t such a good idea. So he’d called as he was about to leave the house, only to receive her voice mail once more. Optimistic, he’d gone to Seawings and was just about to put in their lunch order when he called Adriana again.
“Dammit!” he’d cursed when her voice mail greeted him once again.
Today he’d come to church because skipping would have raised way too many questions. As it was, his mother had asked him to sit right next to her, an act he knew had stemmed from something one of siblings or his cousins had said or done. Ever since he was a little boy Parker had been unable to sit still in church, or to stay awake. It was as if he could only do one or the other and age hadn’t curbed his reaction. Neither did sitting next to his mother because he’d excused himself twice to check his phone for a text or voice mail from Adriana.
His mind said he was being foolish, that if she wanted to talk to him or see him she would answer her phone or at the very least text him back. If she didn’t—which he was now realizing with a devastating blow to his ego—then that meant she wanted to be left the hell alone. When he’d gone home to change out of his suit into beige linen pants and a matching shirt, he’d seriously contemplated staying there. Ironically, it was a text message received at that precise moment that pushed him out the door.
Dion & Sean want to talk today a mom’s
The message was from Savian and something told Parker it was about his father and Uncle Bruce missing last Thursday’s monthly meeting. Regan had sent him and Savian a text late Friday afternoon saying she’d talked to their father, and asked about his absence at the meeting. He would only say that he’d gotten held up with some other business. But for as long as Parker could remember there had been no other business but Donovan Media for his father and his uncle. Something was definitely going on with them. Which meant Parker was definitely going to this barbeque today. Not to mention the fact that he’d only given his mother her card and flowers this morning at church. He still had a box in the back seat of his car that contained one of those Tiffany lamps she loved to collect.
For the next forty-five minutes as he’d driven out to Biscayne Bay, thinking about what might be going on between his father and his uncle, and how happy his mother would be with his gift, had kept Parker’s mind occupied. When he’d finally turned into his parents’ driveway, pulling in behind Savian’s Mercedes SUV and Regan’s Porsche Panamera, thoughts of his sister circled his mind right back around to Adriana. His father had hated when Regan bought that car saying it was too fast for her to handle and blaming Parker for influencing her with his personal car selections. Once again, Regan had proven them all wrong, driving the car as fast as she could, as often as she could, and never once having an accident or getting a speeding ticket. Gavin often let her drive them in Glory, that’s what she’d named the car. If he had a problem with her driving he’d wisely never said a word to any of them.
Adriana could use a new car. He’d like to see her in something safer too, like maybe a fully loaded SUV. She wouldn’t like him picking out a car for her, Parker thought with a smile. Just like Regan, Adriana wanted to make her own decisions, in her own time. Right now he found himself wishing she’d hurry the hell up and decide to at least talk to him again.
While he waited for that moment to come, Parker knew he had to get out of this car and go into this house where he would be surrounded by his family, by people who loved and cared about him, but had no idea what boundaries meant. His mother would undoubtedly ask about his personal life and one of them—either Regan, Savian, Dion or Sean—were going to bring up Adriana, because after their meeting they were all on the ‘there’s something going on between you two’ bandwagon. And then it would begin, the interrogation, the invitation to bring her out to meet everyone and the undeniable moment when he would have to admit to each one of them that he may have royally jacked things up with the only woman to ever make him second guess himself.
When Adriana had so simply asked about why he and Jaydon were no longer together Parker had, for just a moment been stumped. All these years he’d prided himself in being a mature and decisive man, even with his laid back and charismatic demeanor. He’d achieved good grades all through school, without exerting much effort, enjoying himself via parties and girls along the way. So when he’d met Jaydon and that immediate punch of lust had mixed with what he now knew might have been close to a sexual addiction, he’d immediately wanted that forever. Only now, after being with Adriana and caring for her on an entirely different level than he had Jaydon, did Parker begin to realize that maybe his father had been right all along. Maybe young men did make impulsive mistakes. Ones that could follow them for the rest of their lives.
“You planning to sit in there all afternoon,” Sean asked knocking on the hood of Parker’s car as he appro
ached the driver’s side window.
Though it was a thankful reprieve from where his thoughts were going, Parker wasn’t pleased with his cousin banging on his window. Through his sunglasses Parker looked up to see Sean with his golden boy good looks wearing knee length black shorts and a button down white shirt very similar to the one Parker had on. Trailing behind him was Tate wearing a bright yellow sundress and Briana, their five year old daughter, dressed in the same vibrant color as her mother.
“Get off my car, man,” Parker said as he opened the door and began to step out.
“You solo today?” Sean asked grinning.
Parker was about to say something very unpleasant and very adult-like but Briana had wrapped her arms around his legs. “Uncle Parks! Uncle Parks!” she yelled then stepped back with her arms outstretched as she waited impatiently for him to pick her up.
He did not disappoint, lifting the cute as a sunshiny day little girl into his arms and spinning her around as he nuzzled her neck. “Beautiful Briana,” he called her before kissing both her cheeks. She loved when he spun her around and always put her arms out into the air as if she were flying.
“Pretty Parks!” she said to him when he’d stilled, her tiny hands cupping his cheeks as she leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose. When he’d first met Briana she was just turning three years old and was the cutest little cherub look-a-like he’d ever seen. As she’d been the first—and so far—only grandchild between Reginald and Bruce, she’d been instantly taken in by both families and loved and spoiled as if they’d all wanted to make up for the first three years without her. He’d enjoyed taking her with him right after Sunday morning worship and heading to the park where she’d begged him to push her higher on the swings. Ever since then he’d been known as Uncle Parks and he found that he enjoyed hearing her call him that, a lot.
“I think you’re in love with her,” Tate said coming up behind him, rubbing a hand over Parker’s shoulder.