Unwritten Page 22

  There was something fragile in her tone. This was how she coped with pain, how they both coped. He blew out a breath. “Okay, but I’m coming over tonight.”

  “No, I—”

  He pressed his lips to hers, wrapping her in his embrace. “I’m not leaving you alone tonight, and that’s all there is to it. I’ll sleep on the couch if that’s where you want me, but I’m here for you, Kate. You don’t have to do this on your own, not anymore.”

  * * *

  Kate stood in the middle of the set, numb to the action around her. Josh’s words echoed in her head. How could he possibly believe in her when she hadn’t been brave enough to trust him with the truth? How had he seen through her mother’s lies? It was incomprehensible. If she allowed herself to really think about it, she might completely fall apart. As it was, she felt as if a stiff breeze could blow her to pieces.

  Josh had blindsided her in more ways than one. Why hadn’t Harry or Jenn told her about Doreen’s latest headline first? No doubt they knew, but Harry had also known she would be isolated from the news on set and must have decided to tell her when filming wrapped for the day.

  Work came first, of course.

  She’d looked the article up on her phone after Josh left, seen the cell phone footage. The whole world had heard Doreen accuse her of crying rape. She’d read Doreen’s defense, seen the comments calling Kate a slut and a whore. And she couldn’t take it, not again.

  Her head spun, and her eyes burned with unshed tears. She’d spent half an hour scrubbing herself of the death makeup, and still she could feel the bruises on her neck, the pain, the panic of his hands wrapped around her throat, squeezing the life out of her as he violated her body. The ground tipped beneath her feet. She fought the urge to claw against hands that weren’t really there.

  Just makeup.

  She had to hold it together until she got home. There was no other option. She gripped the railing beside her, sucking in deep breaths of the frigid December air.

  Jenn walked up, took one look at her, and sighed. “You heard.”

  Kate forced her spine straight. The pavement felt like marshmallows beneath her feet, soft and sticky. If she moved, it would send her sprawling. “A heads-up would have been nice.”

  “Harry thought we should let you finish filming. I’m sorry.” She touched Kate’s arm.

  Kate clenched her jaw, clinging desperately to her composure.

  “Doreen will be on Marsha’s Latest tonight. It’s bad.” Jenn looked pained. “What she said about you…I just want you to know—”

  Van Moorse’s booming voice interrupted her.

  Kate shrugged out of her coat and handed it to Jenn. “I’m up.”

  Pushing it all away, she walked out before the cameras.

  * * *

  Anton drove Kate into the parking garage beneath her building so that she could bypass the paparazzi waiting in front. It took all her strength to walk from the car to the elevator and punch the button for the eighth floor.

  The doors slid shut with a ding, and her breath hitched. Tears pooled in her eyes. Just one more minute. She only had to make it into her condo, and then she could finally fall apart.

  The doors opened. She huffed a breath and stepped into the hallway.

  Josh waited by her door.

  Without thinking, she walked straight into his arms. He folded her in his embrace and held her tight. She indulged in the luxury of leaning on him, just for a moment, before she took the weight of it all back onto her own two feet.

  He followed her into the condo. “I’m staying here tonight.”

  “No, you’re not. I’m fine.” She wasn’t. She was about thirty seconds away from total collapse. But having him here—trying to keep herself together for him—was more than she could handle.

  “Have you eaten?” he asked quietly.

  She shook her head.

  He stepped past her into the kitchen and began to rummage in her cabinets. She held her breath, fighting back tears. What was he doing?

  He knows. And he’s still here.

  She trudged upstairs to her bedroom, where she stripped down and stepped into a hot shower. The scalding water beat down on her skin until it was bright pink, all traces of makeup a distant memory.

  She could still feel Jim Porter’s fingers around her throat.

  She dressed in pink fleece pajamas and a matching robe, stuffed her feet into red slippers, and walked downstairs. Josh was in the kitchen, and the air sizzled with the scent of peppers and onions.

  He looked up with a smile. “Breakfast for dinner. Always works in a pinch.”

  He scooped a bulging omelet onto a plate with a side of home fries and set it on the table.

  She blinked. “You cook?”

  “I live alone. I can whip up a few basics. Sit. Eat.” He motioned her toward the table.

  She sat. And she ate. Or, she tried to, but her throat kept closing up…

  Josh joined her with an omelet of his own. “You want to talk about it?”

  She shook her head. Just thinking about it made her gag on her omelet. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because this is what people do when someone they care about is hurting, Kate.”

  Was it? If so, he might be the first person in her life who truly cared about her, and she had absolutely no idea what to do about it…or him. God, she needed him so much. The intensity of it was overwhelming. Abandoning her dinner, she stood and walked into the living room. He’d turned on the fireplace, and she stood in front of it, staring into the flames.

  Josh came up behind her and wrapped her in his arms. She was choking on her emotions, drowning in the memories, trapped inside a nightmare that wouldn’t end. And against all odds, Josh stood behind her. Nothing had ever felt as good as his arms, warm and strong as they held her together. Tonight, she needed him, and she wasn’t going to let herself think about the reasons or the implications.

  It was approaching ten, and she had another early call time tomorrow. She led the way upstairs, giving silent permission for him to stay. That was proof enough she’d lost her mind.

  Josh stripped to his undershirt and boxers while she swallowed two sleeping pills from the bottle on her bedside table. It was her only hope of sleep, even with his arms to hold her.

  “Tomorrow will be worse.” Her voice was hoarse from all the pain inside her.

  He turned to face her. “If it is, we’ll get through it together.”

  “They’ll want me to make a statement. The paparazzi will be a nightmare. And my mother…” Doreen would be on TV again, crying for the cameras.

  Why are you doing this to me, Mom?

  She choked back a sob.

  Josh pulled her into his arms. She shook with the effort to hold it all inside, to keep it from swallowing her whole. He reached past her to turn out the light, then nestled her against him in the dark. His warmth and his scent, as familiar as her own, enveloped her.

  “It may get worse before it gets better, but it will get better,” he murmured, brushing back a lock of her hair. “And remember, you don’t owe anybody anything. You do whatever you need to do to take care of yourself. The press and the fans and the paparazzi can wait.”

  “I don’t know how to do that.” She could barely hear her own voice.

  “Then let me help.”

  She blinked back tears. “I’ll try.”

  The soft glow of the New York skyline behind them illuminated his face. She pressed her lips to his, suddenly desperate for his touch, to know that he wanted her, even now.

  Because Josh knows. He knows.

  He returned her kiss but kept the space between them. His arms remained in place around her, his hands motionless on her back. Desperate, she pressed closer.

  “Not tonight, Kate,” he whispered. “It wouldn’t be right.”

  He rolled her over, positioning her against him so that her back was to his front. The perfect position for sleep. And as Josh’s breathing evened out behind her,
she wept silently into her pillow.

  * * *

  Her scream woke him, shrill and terrified.

  Josh bolted upright, his heart hammering against his ribs. Kate lay facing him, eyes closed, the sheets tangled around her like a complex origami creation. Her hands clawed at her throat.

  He touched her shoulder to wake her from the dream. “Kate.”

  “No, no, stop!” she shrieked, striking out at him with surprising force. She lurched away and tumbled onto the floor with a solid thump.

  Josh scrambled after her. He found her sitting up, her eyes open.

  “It’s okay. It was just a dream.” He reached for her, but she pulled away.

  “Please go home,” she whispered, keeping her eyes averted from his gaze.

  “Not a chance.” He helped her into bed and tucked her in against him.

  She trembled from head to foot. Her ribs jerked beneath his touch as she attempted to control her breathing. He rubbed her back until the tremors in her body lessened and finally stopped.

  Was this why she’d never let him spend the night?

  Good God, did she go through this every night?

  She’d been so damn stoic all day. How must it feel for her, to be betrayed in such a way by the very person who was supposed to protect her? He couldn’t even fathom. He thought of his own mother, who’d walk through fire for him or Lily, while Doreen was so eager to rip Kate to shreds for a few bucks, who hadn’t been there for her when she needed her most.

  It was so wrong, he couldn’t even wrap his mind around it.

  Kate lay awake the rest of the night. She pretended to sleep, but her back was stiff as a pole, her fists clenched into the sheets. He held her, providing what comfort he could until the alarm went off at four.

  “Okay, you’re right, the movie star life is not as glamorous as it looks. This is seriously what time you get up in the morning?” he asked, his voice rough from lack of sleep.

  She rolled to face him, her eyes bleary and shadowed with fatigue. “My call time is at five.”

  “And what are you filming? Didn’t you die yesterday?”

  “We don’t shoot in order. It depends on schedules, location, all kinds of things. Today we’re shooting a scene where I convince a couple of the other girls to testify.”

  Josh watched her for a moment in silence. There were so many things he wanted to say. Instead, he merely asked, “So does he get what he deserves, you know, in the end?”

  “It’s the movies. Of course he does.” She rolled out of bed and shut the door to the bathroom behind her.

  If only real life were as well scripted as the movies.

  22

  Kate was on set before the morning media circus woke. Her hands shook, and the tears were a constant ache behind her eyes. She had become a robot, venting her grief as Janet without allowing her own pain to surface.

  Harry was waiting in her trailer at her ten o’clock break, his face grim. “I think you should stay home tonight.”

  “What? Why?” She was scheduled to attend a high-profile charity gala tonight. Truthfully, she’d been dreading it ever since her argument with Doreen went viral yesterday, but to hear Harry tell her to stay home? That got her back up.

  “The headlines this morning are nasty. You don’t want to be out there. Not tonight.”

  “So I should hide my head in shame?” It was what she wanted to do, more than anything. But it went against every instinct she possessed.

  “Hold your head high, honey, but do it at home. Just tonight, until we’ve had a chance to manage this. I hate to say it, but you need to release a statement.”

  She tensed. “No.”

  “As your manager, I’m obliged to tell you that it’s the smart thing to do. We need to get the truth out there before your mother has a chance to spread more lies. You need to tell your side of the story.”

  He paused, and their eyes met as the meaning of his words hit home.

  “As your friend,” he continued, “I want to give you a big hug and tell you how sorry I am that this is happening. You don’t deserve it, not what’s happening now and sure as hell not what happened to you as a child. I feel responsible for bringing Doreen back into your life.”

  “You didn’t…you’re not.” Her voice was little more than a whisper, her throat painfully tight.

  He sighed, his expression weary. “At this point, there’s no undoing what she’s done, but the longer you stay silent, the more rumors and lies will spread. Promise me you’ll consider releasing a statement, and soon.”

  She nodded to appease him, but she couldn’t do what he was asking. Why should she be forced to share her most painful secrets with the world? It was like being raped all over again. And there was no guarantee the public would take her side. What if they believed Doreen instead? She couldn’t do that to herself. It was just too painful.

  “After you wrap filming tomorrow, we’ll get you to LA and figure out a plan for damage control.”

  She turned away. “Fine.”

  Jenn knocked and entered the trailer, a cup from Olive’s in her right hand. She set the cup down and walked straight to Kate, pulling her in for a hug. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank you.” Kate hugged her back briefly, then straightened. She knew Harry and Jenn meant well, but she really needed a few minutes alone to pull herself together before she had to go back out in front of the cameras.

  “That cell phone video from the café…” Jenn’s brows drew together. “Doreen said—”

  “I can’t…not right now.” Kate cut her off.

  Jenn nodded. “Well, I just needed you to know that I believe you, Kate, and I am absolutely sick that Doreen didn’t.”

  “That goes for me too.” Harry walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. “We’ve got your back on this.”

  Kate struggled to draw breath, but her lungs felt like they’d collapsed. She managed to nod, stupidly relieved when she heard the knock calling her back onto the set, saving her from answer.

  As Janet, she bared her soul before the other girls, revealing what Pen had done to her and how he’d bullied her into silence. At least one of them would come out victorious. There wasn’t a dry eye on set by the time she’d finished. When the final take was complete, she retreated to her trailer until the car arrived to take her home.

  She’d told Josh she would be going straight to the charity gala. Instead, she went home and curled up on her couch with her cell phone. She’d waited all day to see the headlines.

  Katherine Hayes: Good Girl Gone Bad

  America’s Sweetheart Not So Sweet After All

  Katherine’s Scandalous Past

  They blended together before her eyes.

  “She was a typical cheerleader, flaunting herself around school thinking she was better than everyone else,” the anonymous source, someone who claimed to have attended high school with Kate, was quoted. “I’m not surprised about what she did to her mother. Her mom had a lot of boyfriends. I heard Kate was jealous. She got bored with boys her own age and wanted to prove herself with older men.”

  “She did have a reputation for being easy,” another source said.

  Kate’s fingers clenched into fists. Tears burned, but she refused to let them fall.

  Easy?

  Nothing about high school had been easy. She’d worked her ass off waitressing and stocking shelves at the mall to be able to afford the same clothes her friends’ parents bought for them. She bought her own cheerleading costume and got herself to practice on time every day. She’d even done reasonably well in her classes. Maybe she hadn’t made the honor roll, but she’d come close.

  And the plays. That was where she’d shone. She’d taken any and every role she could get, dancing and singing and performing. When she was onstage, she could be anyone she wanted to be. The troubled girl without enough money to buy a school lunch ceased to exist.

  At first, she would look for her mother in the crowd. Doreen always had an excuse; she�
��d picked up an extra shift, her schedule had changed, she had a date. Eventually, Kate quit looking. Her friend Leah often performed alongside Kate, and Leah’s mom always brought flowers for them both at the end of a performance.

  Kate appreciated the gesture, but she hadn’t wanted a substitute. She’d just wanted her mom.

  And yes, there had been boyfriends. Kate lost her virginity her sophomore year with a football player named Tommy Tortola. She’d been heartbroken when he went off to college at the end of the year and never called again.

  It was the first time she suspected what her mother said was true. Men didn’t fall in love with girls like them. She was good for sex and a good time, but not forever.

  With trembling hands, she put down her phone and reached for the remote control for the TV. She needed to hear the sound of another voice. Someone. Anyone. Anything to make her feel less alone. One of the evening entertainment shows was airing red-carpet footage from the gala Kate was supposed to be at, and her temper spiked.

  Fuck the headlines. She should have gone anyway. Why had she let Harry convince her to stay home? This wasn’t like her. She walked to the bar, opened a bottle of wine, and poured a glass straight to the rim. Marin Starr worked the red carpet in a scrap of a dress that looked like someone had attacked it with scissors. Disgusted, Kate plopped onto the couch and flipped the channel.

  The face that filled the screen brought her heart to a screeching halt.

  It can’t possibly be.

  Leah’s blonde-streaked curls were gone now, replaced with a sensible brown bob. She wore a blue sweater and jeans, the picture of a middle-class American soccer mom, which for all Kate knew she probably was.

  “My name’s Leah Buffo Gardner. I was Katherine Hayes’s best friend in high school.”

  You too, Leah?

  Kate swallowed a gulp of wine and felt the burn of betrayal slide through her.

  “I don’t know if this is the right thing to do, speaking on TV.” Leah wrung her hands and glanced nervously at the gossip reporter seated across from her. “I should be saying it to her in person, but I don’t know her anymore. I haven’t seen Kate since…”