Heart Breaker (Break on Through) (13 page)

Chapter Nine

One week before opening night

“It’s okay…
really
, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”

I was on the phone with Kyle, and he was
not
happy at the moment. That’s because his hussy of a client had called an emergency meeting with her team and that of her soon-to-be ex. Something about her not being allowed in the country club for some event catered to the ladies-who-lunch set. Kyle told me that the club management supposedly got their cue from her ex, who paid for the membership and made quite a scene. Well, what constitutes a scene to those in blue-blooded, WASP social circles. Anyway, his late meeting meant he couldn’t pick me up from the theater tonight.

“Honey, I’ve got Trick here with me. He’s going to drive me home.”

“Good. Make sure he walks you into the house
and
checks it out thoroughly before he takes off,” he ordered, his manner curt and agitated. “You’ve got the Taser plugged in by your bed
and
the Mace in the kitchen?”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t give Kyle any lip. He cared about me and while he couldn’t offer details, due to Derek’s ex having attorney-client privilege and her having to sign a nondisclosure agreement in order to expedite her divorce, he alluded to the fact that Derek was a whack job and he didn’t want me to underestimate him. Part of not taking Schiller lightly was equipping my home like a Rambo fortress. Kyle even had a state-of-the-art alarm system installed, with panic buttons in various spots. Although half the time Jessica and I would forget to turn it on, making Kyle lose his shit.

“Promise me, baby,” he said on a huff, and I could imagine him rubbing his forehead and the back of his neck, trying like hell to hold it together.

“I promise, Kyle,” I soothed, looking around until I found Patrick coming out of the bathroom, ready to go. “Trick’s ready and you’ve got a meeting. I’ll text you when I get in the door, okay?”

I got silence on the line.

“Hello? Kyle? You there? Did I lose you?”

“You definitely didn’t lose me, Sam. Not even close,” he said, his voice deep and sexy, practically humming like an engine. My heart and soul lifted inside my chest, fluttering wildly.

“Kyle…” I sucked in a breath. “Love when you say things like that to me.”

“Love that you’re mine, honey,” he immediately answered. “Don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

I pressed my lips together—hard—to try to prevent the emotions from welling up in my throat. I shook it off. “Hurry with that meeting and come to me as soon as you can, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Later, handsome.”

“Definitely later, gorgeous.”

I couldn’t keep the dopey smile off my face as I hung up the call.

“You got it
bad
, girl,” Patrick teased, bumping shoulders with me. He looked particularly dashing this evening, wearing some vintage Oliver Peoples frames with a perfectly tailored M&S jacket and Burberry wool scarf.

“Yeah…I do.” I let out a happy sigh. “I love him.”

His eyes grew wide, both brows shooting straight up. “Say that again?”

I bit my bottom lip and shrugged my shoulders.

He came over and pulled me into a deliciously suffocating bear hug. “So happy for you,” he said into the top of my head, giving me a quick kiss on my forehead. “Have you told him yet?”

My face fell. “No. I’m afraid I’ll freak him out and then he’ll…”

“He’ll
what
, Sam?”

I looked away from my friend’s penetrating gaze. There were still a few stragglers from our group, gathering their belongings, making plans to grab dinner together. Schiller may have been a nightmare to deal with, but the one positive was that I and the other members of the cast were airtight. Having each other’s backs. Like war buddies.

My gaze turned into one of those stares where everything blurred and you didn’t end up seeing anything in front of you.

“I’m afraid he’ll leave me.” I closed my eyes and shook my head. “It’s not like
he’s
saying it so fast either.”

“It’s only been a few months, baby girl. Give it time.”

“Oh please—” I half laughed, half scoffed, “—you and Oliver were throwing around I love yous after two weeks. And you didn’t leave his apartment for an entire summer!”

“That’s true.” He gave a sheepish grin. “Most couples aren’t so quick to jump in. Nothing wrong with taking things slower.”

I gave him a small smile in response.

“You know he’s crazy about you, don’t you?”

“Sure,” I said, wanting to change the subject.

“He
is
, Samantha! Trust me. I’m a man. I
know
men.”

“Okay.”

“And when I say I know men, I mean I
know
men. In every way there is to know them.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, all right.”

“Psychologically. Emotionally…”

“Understood,” I interrupted.

“I know in the
biblical
sense too.”

“You can shut up now,” I play-growled while burying my face into his chest. I tucked my arm around his waist and turned us toward the door. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. Even if Kyle’s going to be real late tonight, I still want to get home.”

As Patrick and I strolled out of the theater that night and into the warming air of early April, we were so wrapped up in our own little world that we both missed, off to the side and in the shadows, Derek Schiller listening. Watching us. With a glint in his eye and a chilling sneer on his face.

One and a half hours later

By the time I got home and Patrick had completed a quick walkthrough of my house, I was definitely losing steam. Even so, I knew Kyle would be especially wiped after dealing with that meeting from hell, so I was in the kitchen, prepping dinner for the two of us. Jessica had left a message, reminding me she had her book club and wouldn’t be home ’til after ten.

So, we’d have the place to ourselves, for a little while at least. Now that I was an adult, it really hit me how small this house was for a family of four, especially with the master suite on the same side as the other bedrooms. For all the years Jessica and I had lived here, I couldn’t recall one time hearing my parents having sex, even though I am sure they did. They were crazy about each other and it seemed my dad couldn’t be in the same room as my mother without touching her in some way. A kiss on the cheek. A playful slap on the backside. How they managed with these paper-thin walls and in close proximity to two particularly precocious and inquisitive girls, who didn’t understand the meaning of personal space, was beyond me.

Needless to say, I spent most nights over at Kyle’s apartment so we could make as much noise as we wanted. “You’re a screamer, babe,” he liked to tease. “I’m a growler and your sister’s head is permanently stuck in a romance novel at home. Let’s not give her a soundtrack that’ll make her run into therapy.” I wholeheartedly agreed and would’ve been over there tonight as well, except I had the day off tomorrow and I really wanted to finish the kitchen backsplash. Jackson had been true to his word, as always, and helped me build the island and install the granite countertops. With their striations of golds and taupes with flecks of black and silver, they were totally stunning. Just as awesome was Kyle surprising me last week with boxes of gorgeous, Italian-crafted, red glass tiles to finish the job. They were the ones both Jess and I had loved when we had gone to the showroom, but couldn’t even contemplate buying because they were so outrageously expensive.

His reason for the impromptu present? “Honey, I don’t
need
a reason to get you what you want. That’s my job and my pleasure.”

God
, I loved this man.

The doorbell rang just as I was finishing roasting the brussels sprouts with pine nuts and a special blend of spices Jessica had perfected and taught me. I turned off the oven and wiped my hands on my apron as I skipped-slash-ran over to the door, so excited to see Kyle even though I just saw him this morning.

Yeah, I know. I was
such
a girl. And I didn’t care.

“Coming, babe!” I called out, dismantling the alarm. “I really need to get you your own key,” I said while opening the door wide.

“Yes, Samantha, I think having my own key is a
marvelous
idea.”

My smile died on my face and all the heat drained from my body.

Derek Schiller was standing on my front porch. His pupils were completely dilated and he had a thin, sickly sheen of sweat covering his face. And with my boots off, he really loomed over me. Dread washed over me as I gripped the doorknob, trying to remain calm.

“What are you doing here, Derek?”

“Samantha,
tsk tsk
,” he chided, with a smile that was just
off
somehow. “Is that any way to treat your
boss
?”

I straightened my spine, trying to emit a confidence I didn’t feel in the slightest. “Derek, it’s totally weird and inappropriate that you just show up unannounced at my home. And you look high as a kite too.” I looked over his shoulder to see if any of my neighbors were around. Unfortunately, I didn’t see a soul, and his car was parked half on my driveway and half on my front lawn. Further proof that he was on something.

Shit
, why hadn’t I checked the peephole before opening the door? And how in hell could I get rid of this creep without it affecting my job? I had to get him out of here.

“Why don’t you wait here and I’ll call you a cab?” I offered, scared out of my ever-loving mind, eyeing the alarm panic button just off to the side and out of my reach.

He may have been tweaked on God knew what, but he was still observant and he saw where my eyes went. His whole face grew even more sinister, if that was possible, and I knew I was in trouble. I dashed toward that button.

“Oh no you don’t, you little whore!” he roared and rushed at me all at once, pushing me back hard. My head slammed on the hardwood, making me see stars for a minute, and a stab of pain shot through my neck.

Before I even had a chance to catch my breath, he grabbed me by my hair and started dragging me through my house, muttering to himself like a man possessed.

“Masterson thought he could
fuck
with
me
? Well, I’m gonna fuck with
him
by nailing his latest piece!” Some of my hair was ripped from the roots, and I started kicking and screaming for my life.

“Derek! Please, please don’t do this! You can’t afford this kind of bad press. If you leave now I won’t say…”

“Shut the fuck up, bitch!” he screamed and then whipped around, straddling me, still with my hair grasped in his hand so my head was raised up from the floor. Then he backhanded me across the face. Really hard. I whimpered, the pain searing through my lips, jaw and cheek like a brush fire. I could taste blood in my mouth and I tried not to swallow it.

Then he got his face real close to mine, bending down in a low crouch. “I’m going fuck you in every hole you’ve got, you stuck-up piece of shit. And then, I’m gonna wait for your punk bitch boyfriend to get here.” With his free hand, he went around his back and drew a Beretta handgun back around and up against my temple, the cold from the metal feeling just like a burn. “And then, I’m going waste you both. But not until after Masterson gets to see me fuck you again with my dick and the barrel of my gun.”

I had to think fast. I was too far away from the panic buttons, the Mace or the Taser to make a run for them. And he had me in an iron-vise grip in the middle of the hallway. Behind me was my bedroom with the Taser and in front of me was the panic button and Mace.

The options weren’t great, but I had to work with what I had.

“Now, Derek, I thought you were smarter than that,” I cooed as best as I could muster, even offering a coy smile. “If you really want to mess with Kyle’s head, raping me is
not
the way to go.”

His head came back a bit, definitely a bit thrown off. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

I blew my hair out of my face, almost as if I were
bored
with the whole exchange. “If it were
me
wanting to get even with someone, I’d make it look like his girlfriend was willingly cheating on him. That burns a man much more than what you have in mind.”

He still had a firm hold on me, but I could tell by his expression that he was actually listening to what I was saying.

“Make you a deal, Derek,” I continued, praying this was going to work. “You promise to spare him, and in return, I’ll let you fuck me five ways ’til Sunday. Right there in my bed.” I motioned with my chin. “Kyle walks in and sees that? It’ll ruin him. Trust me.”

He narrowed his eyes, studying me. “Thought I heard you tell Patrick you love the guy,” he sneered.

I swallowed hard and blinked a couple of times. “I do.” My voice was cracking. “I would rather him hate me and be alive than think I’m the best thing to ever happen to him and for him to be dead.”

“How touching,” he spewed out, then got right in my face, the rancid smell of his breath almost making me gag. “How do I know you won’t try something?”

I blew an exasperated breath. “Jesus, Derek, you’ve got a gun pointed at my head! And I’m five foot nothing and you’ve got eighty pounds on me. You’re the one in charge here. Not me. Okay?”

If I could get him in my room, then I could use the Taser on him and call the cops. Then this whole nightmare would be over.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw—of all people—Jackson and Kyle’s buddy, Mad Max, by my front door, which was still open from when Derek had shoved me aside. I had only met him a handful of times, the first one being the night Kyle and I met at Lauren and Jax’s Super Bowl party.

What the hell was he doing here? As much as I wanted to run to him or scream or just collapse in relief, I didn’t move a muscle. I just kept my eyes focused on Derek’s, thinking of how I could help Max get in without being noticed.

“So, are we doing this or what, Derek?”

He furrowed his brow. “I don’t trust you one bit, you fuckin’ bitch,” he spat in my face, still way too close for me. He was getting revved up. I could tell because his face was getting beet red. All the while, Max was coming in without a sound. I had to keep Derek focused on me and his hatred for Kyle.