“I can’t believe you’ll be raising two little ones and building a new business.” I sip my champagne before adding, “You’re an inspiration, Eva.”
Her features soften, and she lets go of the stroller to give me an awkward hug. It’s hard to embrace with her pregnant belly between us. “Thank you, sweetie. That’s so kind of you to say.” She eases back. “What do you plan to do after you finish college? Keanu says you’re studying psychology. Do you want to work as a psychologist?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“That’s a lot of study,” Eva says.
And she’s not wrong. After I graduate, it will take me at least four years of further study before I’m qualified to practice. “I know, but I’m in this for the long haul. I want to help other victims of sexual abuse. My therapist, Denise, has been a very important part of my recovery and my life, and I want to do for others what she’s done for me.”
“That’s amazing, Selena. And I think you’ll make a wonderful therapist.”
I clasp my hands in my lap, and I can’t believe I’m going to tell Eva this. Keanu, Denise, and my mom are the only other people I’ve ever mentioned this to.
But I like Eva a lot.
She’s easy to talk to, and she emits a mothering vibe I can’t help but be drawn to.
“I want to set up a sanctuary. A place where victims can come to heal away from the pressures of the outside world.” My cheeks inflame as Eva gives me her full attention. “I want to offer a variety of therapies and supplementary holistic treatments and a bunch of other stuff.” I’ve thought about this in-depth, and I have detailed plans, but I’m sure she doesn’t want me boring her about all this stuff.
She stares at me for a few moments with an awed expression on her face. “I think you’re wrong, Selena,” she says, startling me. “I think it’s you who is the inspiration.”
* * *
“I can’t believe your family bought us a boat!” I exclaim a couple hours later after the Kennedys surprised us with an over-the-top wedding gift.
“Don’t be fooled, babe,” Keanu says, as we sway to a slow number on the dance floor. “It’s as much for their benefit as it is ours.”
“Even still. I can’t wrap my head around it.”
He kisses me. “Get used to it, wife. When I come into my full inheritance next year, we’re going to be mega rich. You won’t ever want for anything.”
“You know me,” I say, shrugging. “I don’t need much.”
“That’s one of the things I love most about you,” he says. “But it’s nice to not have to worry about it.”
“Keanu!” Keven bursts through the front entrance of the marquee, his cheeks red, looking like he’s run all the way from the main house to here.
Bile floods my mouth as he races toward us, and Keanu grabs hold of my hand, leading me off the dance floor. We meet halfway to the door. “What’s going on?” Keanu asks.
“You need to come back to the house. There’s a breaking story on CNN you need to see.”
Keanu and I share a look as we follow Keven back to the house. The rest of Keanu’s family follows us, and when we congregate in the living room, where Eva, Kaden, and Cheryl are already lounging on couches, everyone piles into the room, dropping into seats. Keanu pulls me down on one of the leather recliners, positioning me on his lap. His arms automatically go around me, and everyone quiets down as Keven raises the volume on the TV.
A reporter is standing outside an apartment building in downtown Boston with a serious expression on her face. In the background are several law enforcement cars and trucks, including vehicles with the FBI logo on them. A van from the M.E’s office pulls up, followed by a blacked-out SUV, and other reporters surge on the new arrival.
“According to our sources,” the reporter says into her microphone, “the alarm was raised an hour ago when a neighbor reported hearing gunshots coming from the penthouse suite Mr. Lawrence has been renting since he moved to the city.”
Keanu clasps my hands, rubbing his thumb across my skin in soothing circles. My breath falters as I wait for the reporter to continue.
“Police arrived shortly on the scene, quickly followed by local agents from the FBI.” She taps her ear, her eyes widening as she listens to whatever is being said. Then she refocuses on the camera. “We have just received confirmation that Clive Lawrence, the Oscar-winning director, has been shot and killed. We have no details at this time, but we’ll share more information as we receive it.”
Keven mutes the TV but leaves it on. The headline flashes repeatedly across the screen.
OSCAR WINNING DIRECTOR FOUND DEAD AT HIS PENTHOUSE HOME.
“Hell yeah!” Kent shouts jumping up and rushing toward me. He yanks me out of Keanu’s lap, lifting me and swinging me around. “The monster is dead. Now, it’s truly time to celebrate.”
“Put my wife down,” Keanu says, getting up and taking me from Kent’s exuberant arms. “What’s going on?” he asks, pinning that question on his FBI brother, as he pulls me into his chest.
“I’m going in,” Keven says. “I’ll find out more. Until I have official confirmation, don’t go anywhere and make sure the security detail has eyes on you and Selena at all times.”
“Go,” Paul says, approaching Keven. “We’ve got this.”
“I want hourly check-ins,” Keven says.
“You got it.”
“I’ll call you later,” Keven says to Keanu, placing his hand on my shoulder and squeezing it gently.
“Thanks, Kev.” Keanu clamps his hand on Keven’s shoulder. “We owe you so much.”
Keven leaves the room, and Keanu tips my head back with his finger. “You okay, babe?”
“I’m a bit…shell-shocked,” I admit. “What do you think happened?”
“He was a pedophile, and I’m betting he had plenty of enemies, so who knows,” he says, bending down to kiss my mouth. “Try to put it out of your mind. Keven will find out the truth, and then, we can deal.”
* * *
SSA Clement calls us into his office the following day to give us the good news in person. Clive Lawrence is dead in an apparent suicide. The motive is unclear, but CSI technicians and FBI agents are crawling all over his home, and another few teams have been sent to examine the other five properties he has in the US and two homes overseas. The SSA is hopeful they will find some damning evidence they can use to haul some of his known associates in.
But the main point is I’m safe. The threat is over, and we can start living our lives.
The FBI pulls their protection from me, and Keanu cuts the private security detail back to two men. I don’t argue with him. The truth is, it will take me a while to stop looking over my shoulder, and it gives me peace of mind knowing Paul and Ray are shadowing me whenever I leave the condo.
We don’t return to Greece, and Keanu sends someone to pack and ship the things we left behind. I’m sad not to return to the little island we both grew to love, but I’m glad to be back at home. Resuming normal life.
Over the next couple weeks, I start my EMDR therapy. We’d had to postpone it when we left for Greece because the hypnosis therapist explained I’d need to attend sessions two to three times a week for five to six weeks. I’ve had four sessions so far, and it’s going unbelievably well. I’m almost kicking myself that I didn’t explore this years ago except I’ve chosen to not live with regrets anymore.
I spoke to Keanu, and we gave permission to Keven to sit in on the sessions after my first one, because I unlocked lots of memories, and this new intel is proving invaluable to the FBI. They have some strong, fresh leads for the first time in years, and Keven says they are close to cracking Allen’s sex-trafficking-ring wide-open.
Unfortunately, someone has been leaking stuff to the media, and it’s come out about Lawrence’s disgusting past. His show has been canceled amid all the controversy, which shows no sign of dying down.
Lots of stories are doing the rounds.
Including how it connec
ts to me.
Which is why I’m currently locked in what is proving to be our first argument as a married couple.
“Let them speculate,” Keanu says, slamming his mug down on the countertop.
“That will only mean more intrusion,” I protest, reaching across the counter to take his hand. “Those reporters camped outside here will mushroom in the coming days. They’re not going away unless I make them. Telling my side of the story removes the speculation. Removes the power from them and puts me firmly in the driver’s seat.”
“Let’s put an offer in on that house we saw yesterday,” Keanu says, slanting determined eyes at me.
“We already agreed it wasn’t the right house for us.”
We’ve been house hunting since we returned, both of us eager to start married life in our own place. Even though I’ve grown close to Kent and I will miss him.
“It has high walls, a gated entrance, long driveway, and it’s in an enclosed estate, which means it offers us protection from the vultures outside. We can buy it now, and when all this dies down, we’ll sell it and find our dream home.”
I let go of his hand to massage my throbbing temples. “I know you only want to protect me and that you don’t want the population at large to know what I’ve gone through, but this is my life, Keanu.” I slap a hand over my chest. “My story to tell. And I’m not ashamed anymore. I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m in a good place in my life. A place where I can talk about this and I won’t fall apart.”
I stand and go around to him, placing my hands on his shoulders. “My story will get the vultures off our back, because once I reveal the truth, there is no more story to uncover. But that’s not why I want to do it.” I peer into his big, beautiful, blue eyes. “I want to help others. I want other young girls to be aware of the dangers. To be more vigilant. And I want to help other survivors. I want to show them you can come through it. That life isn’t over because someone chooses to violate your body and obliterate your spirit. That there are places and people and supports out there to help.”
I exhale heavily after my little speech, hoping he understands.
Slowly, he nods. “Okay.” He cups my face. “Are you sure you’ve given it enough thought? That you’re not making a rash decision?”
“I’m sure. And I’ve spoken to Denise about it.”
“Will she be attending with you?”
“Yes, and I’d really like you and Mom there too.”
He presses a kiss to my forehead. “That goes without saying, baby. Of course, I’ll be there.” He threads his fingers through mine. “We’re in this together forever.”
* * *
The interview with 60 Minutes is set up for next week, and now, my face is splashed all over more billboards as they build up hype for the talk. The news about my marriage to Keanu has also been disclosed, and the level of interest right now is off the charts.
Unfortunately, that means I can’t attend classes for the foreseeable future, so I’m back to watching videos online. But it’s a small price to pay, because the potential rewards of this interview vastly outweigh any temporary inconvenience to my life.
I cannot complain because it’s heightening awareness of sex trafficking, victims of child sex abuse in general, and it’s helping to remove the stigma, which can only be a good thing. The Me Too movement has helped remove the fear of discussing sensitive subjects openly, in public forums, helping pave the way for other atrocities to come to light. The more we talk about these injustices, these acts of violence toward others, the more people will become vigilant and more outspoken in demanding the authorities do something concrete to catch these bastards and provide necessary funding to provide aid to victims.
Part of the contract Dan Evans, our family lawyer, negotiated with the producers of 60 Minutes was the inclusion of a donation line so viewers can contribute during the interview should they want to. The proceeds raised will be split equally between my mom’s charity and Polaris. Polaris is a nonprofit organization that operates the National Human Trafficking Resource Center, hosts the national hotline on human trafficking, and engages community members in local and national grassroots efforts.
The fee I’m receiving is going toward setting up my sanctuary.
While our house hunting hasn’t delivered any results yet, my crazy husband found a couple of large plots for sale in the Massachusetts area, and just yesterday, we put down a deposit on a fifty-six-acre site in New Marlborough. We’ve decided to focus our house hunting on places halfway between Wellesley and New Marlborough, so we’re only a little over an hour away from my future place of work and my in-laws.
My life has changed so much, I think, as I lean against the front of the car, in the small parking garage at the back of the condo, waiting for Paul and Ray to take the grocery bags from the trunk.
Although we are staying in Wellesley for Christmas, along with Mom because Alex considers her family now too, we are hosting a little pre-Christmas party here on Saturday night for Keanu’s brothers and their partners, and Kelly and Todd are coming too.
I’m actually looking forward to it.
The old me would never have attended this party, let alone thrown it, and it just highlights how far I’ve progressed.
I never imagined things could be this good, even a year ago, and I’ll never take what I have for granted.
Two loud pops startle me from the rosy cloud in my head, and my heart rate pitches to coronary-inducing territory at the two accompanying thuds.
“Paul? Ray?” I call out, pushing off the hood and peering anxiously at the elevated trunk door.
My knees wobble as the figure rounds the back of the car, and I clutch on to the SUV to keep myself upright.
“Hello, bitch,” Freddie says, his dark eyes glaring at me as he points a gun at my head. “Surprised to see me?”
I slide my hand around to the back pocket of my jeans, reaching for my cell.
“I wouldn’t bother,” he says. “No one can save you now.”
Adrenaline courses through my veins, joined by anger that has simmered under the surface for years.
I’m not a victim.
I’m a survivor, and I won’t cower to this bastard again.
My spine stiffens, and I tip my chin up, letting go of the car and standing upright before him. “You mean no one can save you, because if you think my husband or the FBI will let you take me again, you are sorely mistaken.”
“Such lofty words for a timid little bitch.” His eyes rake up and down my body, and nausea twists in my gut. “And you hold no interest for me anymore.” He puts his face all up in mine, and my natural instinct is to rear back, but I hold my ground even though I’m shaking like an earthquake on the inside and my sweater is stuck to my back like a second layer of skin. “I like my pussy young and virginal, and you’re too old and too used up,” he sneers.
The second he presses the muzzle of his gun to my brow, I swing into action, lifting my leg and kneeing him hard in the balls. “Fuuuck!” he roars, bending over and automatically dropping his arm.
I waste no time, because this might be my only opportunity, darting around him and the dead bodies of my two bodyguards, pushing my limbs faster than I’ve ever pushed them as I race across the parking garage toward the door.
I don’t look back.
I can’t.
I’ve just reached the entrance when a loud pop rings out, the noise ricocheting off the walls, seeming louder. I crash to the floor, slamming face-first into the hard ground, and that’s the last thing I register before I black out.
30
Keanu
Kent pulls up to the curb at the hospital, brakes screeching, drawing the attention of the people loitering outside. “Go! I’ll park,” he says, but I’m already halfway out of the SUV.
Kev’s X5 is parked haphazardly outside the entrance, and a tow truck is in the process of removing it. A trail of blood leads from the car toward the front doors of the hospital, and the most intense
pain slices through me, almost rendering me immobile.
But my desire to get to my wife overrides every other emotion, and I push past people as I rush through the entrance, racing up to the hospital desk. “I need to find my wife!” I shout, ignoring the couple already talking with the receptionist.
“Keanu.” A hand lands on my back, and I whip around.
“Come with me,” Keven says. “I know where she is.”
He’s covered in blood. Selena’s blood. There’s so much of it! Tears leak from my eyes. “Is she?”
Keven grips my shoulders firmly. “She’s alive, Keanu. They took her straight into surgery.”
“How bad is it, Kev?”
He takes hold of my arm. “Let’s get up to the waiting room, and I’ll fill you in there,” he says, looking over his shoulder, reminding me we are not alone and there are prying eyes and ears everywhere. I curse the fact we’re so well-known in Boston. That there are several eyeballs glued to us. Some taking pictures they’ll no doubt post on social media. I give it a half hour before the vultures show up.
I let Keven drag me away, and we’ve just stepped into the elevator when Kent comes running along the corridor. Kev holds the elevator for him, and Kent jumps inside. His face is a mask of horror as he rakes his gaze over our older brother. “Jesus Christ.” He drags his hands through his hair.
“Selena’s in surgery,” Keven says, because I’m incapable of saying the words.
“What the fuck happened?” Kent asks, his horror giving way to anger.
“Not here,” Kev snaps, glancing at the three men and one woman sharing the elevator with us.
Kev leads us to a large waiting room in the private section of the hospital. “This feels like déjà vu,” Kent says when we step inside.
Releasing Keanu Page 23