I send another text with info about how to get into the garage at my place, which is not something I give to just anyone. But right now, I can’t be bothered with things I’m normally obsessive about, such as protecting my privacy. All I care about is Natalie and whatever I can do for her.
The buzzer on the elevator sounds, and I’m once again torn over leaving Natalie alone, even for a minute. “Fluff is on her way with Leah. I’m going to get the door. Be right back.”
She doesn’t reply. Tears continue to roll down her cheeks, but she’s completely unaware. The vacant look in her eyes terrifies me.
I run for the elevator. “Yeah?”
“It’s me.” Addie.
Without hesitation, I hit the buzzer to let in my faithful assistant. A minute later, she steps off the elevator, drops her bag in my foyer and hugs me. “What can I do?” She’s become like a little sister to me in the five years she’s worked for me. There’s nothing either of us wouldn’t do for the other, which she’s just proven once again.
“I don’t even know what I need right now.”
“Whatever it is, I’m here for both of you.”
“How did you get here so fast?”
“I jumped on a plane an hour after the news hit the Web. Liza is coming, too,” she said of my publicist, “but I told her not to come here tonight. Tomorrow will be soon enough.”
“Good call, thanks. I need to get back to Natalie. She’s in the tub. Gabe is sending his doctor cousin over.”
“I’ll make tea.”
“She likes hot chocolate.”
“I’ll make that, then.” She grasps my arm. “You’re not in this alone. The entire Quantum army is circling and out for blood.”
“Thanks for coming, Addie.”
“Just doing my job.”
“You’re doing much more than that, as you well know.”
“Go to her. It’s all going to be okay.”
Though I’m soothed by Addie’s assurances, one look at Natalie’s ghostly white, tearstained face tells me it’s going to be a very long time—if ever—before things are all right again. “Let’s get you out of there, sweetheart.” As if she’s a child, I help her up and out. I dry her and wrap her up in a warm robe of mine. Then I towel-dry and brush her hair.
All the while, she stares blankly at the wall, barely blinking even as tears keep on coming. Where the hell is that doctor? “Let’s get you to bed.” She doesn’t so much as blink when I pick her up and carry her to my bed. After she’s tucked in under the thick down comforter, I sit beside her, holding her hand and wishing I knew what to do for her.
Addie comes in with a mug of hot chocolate and silently puts it on the bedside table before leaving us alone.
“Addie made you some hot chocolate.”
“What’s she doing here?”
The question is a huge relief to me. “She came to help us.”
“There’s nothing she can do.”
The absolute desolation in her voice is another arrow to my broken heart. “There’s a lot we can do, and we’re going to do all of it after we take care of you. You’re the only thing that matters.”
“Your career, what they must be saying…”
“Fuck that. I couldn’t care less about my career right now. I care about you. I love you, and I hate that this is happening to you because of me.”
“I just… I don’t understand… Why? Why would he do this?”
I wipe the tears from her face while holding back my own. I can’t remember the last time I cried about anything, but I fear if I start now, I might never stop. “Who did it, Nat?”
“It had to be the lawyer in Lincoln. I paid him a lot of money to help me change my name after everything that happened. Why would he do this?”
“Money.” I’m gutted as the pieces fall together. “After you were seen with me, he recognized the chance to cash in.”
“I was his client,” she says on a sob. “He’s not allowed to talk about me.”
“You’re damned right he’s not. I’ll see to it that he’s disbarred and charged criminally for what he’s done to you. Not to mention we’ll sue his ass off.”
“It’s like it’s happening all over again… Feels just like it did then.”
She’s referring to being raped at fifteen, which the whole world is now hearing about thanks to a fucking lawyer in Lincoln, Nebraska, who sold her out to make a buck—probably a lot of them.
I can barely breathe through the rage. I want to cry along with her at knowing I caused her to be victimized all over again. I dragged her back into a nightmare that she’d long ago put behind her. If I’d had any idea something like this was even possible, I never would’ve been seen in public with her.
“It’s not your fault,” she says softly.
Though I’m relieved to see a spark of life in her normally luminescent eyes, I refuse to be let off the hook. “It’s absolutely my fault. Because you were seen with me, they wanted to know more about you, so they dug until they found someone willing to talk for a price.”
“I don’t blame you. I blame him.”
I adore her for being concerned about me at a time like this. “What’s his name, sweetheart?”
“David Rogers. He’s the only person, until today, who knew me by both names. It had to be him.”
“You’ve never told anyone, even your family?”