Page 132 of Fame and Obsession

Thirty-Five

Julian

Present Day

Bergen County, New Jersey

She stares at me without moving. “Julian, say something.”

God, I want to. But my temper is threatening to destroy the thin hold I have on my composure. All I can do is try and concentrate on not knocking everything off the walls.

“Julian?” Her voice breaks.

“Your…” I clear my throat, trying to calm the rage sinking its teeth into my jugular. “Your father attacked you and your boyfriend? Did he…?” I can’t say the words.

“Rape me? Is that what you mean?”

I barely nod.

“No.”

Air exits my lungs in a whoosh of relief. Not that it would change how I feel about her, but I can’t imagine a betrayal of that magnitude.

“My father’s not a sexual sadist—at least he wasn’t back then. He’s just an evil son of a bitch who hates women.” She lets out a sardonic laugh. “Fucker wasn’t expecting me to fight back. I got the jump on him pretty good.” Her face falls. “I wasn’t fast enough, though. He’d already stabbed Shane. He bled out first.”

“Jesus.”

“My father eventually got the upper hand and stabbed me in the stomach—over and over.” She closes her eyes as if reliving it. I want to go to her, but I’m afraid to touch her. “Eventually, I passed out,” she continues. “When I woke up in the hospital, the doctors told me one of the wounds had nicked an artery and almost killed me. If Faith hadn’t come to check on us, I would’ve died right there next to Shane.”

“That’s why you left school?”

“I had to…” She finally faces me. “You see, Julian? We aren’t so different, you and me. I blamed myself for Shane’s death, too. If I hadn’t befriended him, if I hadn’t been so damned determined to live a normal life for once, he wouldn’t have come after me. He’d still be alive.”

Anger replaces sorrow. “But you wouldn’t be, princess.”

She winces. “I’ve never told you, but my father used to call me princess. It wasn’t so much a term of endearment to him as some sick joke. That’s why I’ve always hated you saying it.”

“But now?”

Her lips curve into a smile. “Now, I’d miss it if you didn’t.” Folding her arms over her stomach again, she sighs as she sinks deeper in thought. “Julian, he ran when Faith, and a few others, came to the parking lot.”

Then it hits me. I know her ultimate fear. “They never caught him, did they? He’s not in prison.”

Jesus Christ.

She’s been living in constant fear of her own fucking father for years.

She nods weakly. “No one knows where. They haven’t been able to find him. That’s why I changed my name and moved. I’m petrified one day he’ll find me and finish what he started.”

Everything makes sense now. “That’s why you went thermonuclear on me after the red carpet. You were afraid he’d find you.”

“I still am.”

“Then why write the article?”

Her face flushes. “I was more afraid of losing you.”

Her honesty guts me. She scaled her walls to save something between us she didn’t know if I’d reciprocate.

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