“Don’t say another word. Don’t cover for what he did. I want to kill him bad enough at the moment; we’ve got to stop talking about him.”
He held me for a while and I began to drift. When I woke up, I was alone and I heard voices. All I could hope and pray was that he hadn’t called the police.
“Ryan?” I called out.
He entered the room with Candace, “I had to have someone, Leese. I can’t handle this.”
Candace sat gently on the edge of the bed and by the expression on her face I must have looked pretty bad.
She pulled back the covers to see the rest of me and I could see her flinch. “He’s got to go to jail,” she stated matter-of-factly.
I touched her hand as I shook my head, no.
“Leese, this was worse than a beating, he-he raped you.”
“No,” I whispered. “No one except the three of us is going to know anything about this-I couldn’t take it if this got to the press. My mom…” I choked up, but stopped before the tears spilt over my lashes.
“We can’t leave you here like this.”
“I’m staying,” Ryan stated with a hard edge. “I won’t be coming home until she’s-”
“Bring her to our house,” Candace said gently. “You said the crazy son-of-a-bitch pulled a gun on you, and I don’t want the two of you here and have him show back up.”
“No!” Ryan snapped back at her. “I don’t want to take a chance of him showing up with you around. I want you to go stay at your dad’s for a few-”
“No, Ryan, I-”
“Please, Candace. This is bad enough. I couldn’t take it if something happened to you, too.”
I could see his concern for her safety washed over her like a wave of love, and then the tough exterior peeled away and she began to cry, “I don’t want anything to happen to you either.”
He dried her tears and held her close, “Don’t worry, please. I’ll turn on the alarm and I’ll call the police if I even suspect that he’s around. Stay at your dad’s-for me-Candace, please.”
She finally left and he went around and locked every door and window, set the alarm and crawled in beside me. I had drawn my knees up which made it difficult for him to hold me the way he normally did, so he let his hand rest on my shoulder as I fell back asleep.
The next day the cramping was worse and I was still incredibly sore. My body looked hideous like I’d been tossed over a mountainside and had rolled all the way to the bottom. Ryan tried to get me to eat, but I honestly didn’t want anything. By noon he said he was going to go get me something for the pain, but he would be back as quickly as possible. Within thirty minutes, he sat beside the bed with a glass of dark amber liquid.
“Sit up, baby girl,” he was trying to help me up from under the covers.
“No, wait. I don’t have my shirt on,” I said looking for wherever it went. It felt like it was cutting into my bruises last night and I had pulled it off, now all I had was a bra that Candace helped me get on before she left the day before.
“Leese, you were absolutely naked yesterday. I can handle your bra and underwear. Drink some of this.”
I was in so much pain that I was cringing as he propped the pillows behind me. He brought the glass to my face; the strong aroma of alcohol hit me. I pushed his hand away, “No-what is that?”
“Brandy. Drink it.”
“No,” I refused.
“Leese, when I was little I’d get terrible stomach aches and my dad would give me sips of brandy to ease the pain. It always worked. Please, drink it-I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”
I knew that as I allowed him to bring it back to my mouth. It was strong, yet had a strange, smooth quality that warmed my throat and stomach immediately. “I can’t drink all of this,” I protested.
“It’s like seven or eight ounces; it’s not that much and it will help.”
He encouraged me to continue as I sipped until nothing remained in the glass. I was warm all over, but not the same as when David doped me with ecstasy. This was a different kind of warm. The cramps seemed to blend away in the heat and my eyelids drooped heavily as I realized I had consumed enough to pass out. The last thing I remembered was moaning softly that I wanted to sleep as he slid me down in the bed.
“I’m sorry,” I heard him whisper as he kissed my forehead, but I was too sleepy to care what he was apologizing for as I drifted away.
I woke eight hours later to the sound of my cell phone going off. “Who is it?” I asked weakly.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Ryan, who is it?”
“It’s Don-at least I think it’s Don unless Micah is using his phone.”
I put out my hand.
“No.”
“Give it to me. He’s calling about Wednesday.”
Reluctantly he handed it to me as I caught it before it had gone to voicemail.
“Leese,” came Don’s panicked voice, “you were supposed to be back in L.A. last night. We’ve got-”
“I can’t-I can’t get back for the special Wednesday. I’ve-”
“Can’t! We’re talking the finale, here! What do you mean can’t?!”
“I was in a-a-car accident,” I began. The line was silent so I continued, “I’m really banged up and I can’t go on stage looking like this. I can barely stand up for that matter.”
“I’m sorry, Leese, I didn’t know. What happened? Was anyone else hurt?”
“No-no-it was a deer in the road,” I lied. “It went right through the windshield. I’ve got cuts and bruises everywhere.”
“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll either get the network to run a Christmas special or Remake reruns. I’ll let you know as soon as I work it out.”
The next day, he was standing at my bedside, “Geez, a deer did this? It looks more like a grizzly. Are those bite marks?” he said looking at my shoulder.
I pulled the blanket up to cover the mark, “No, just lots of glass.”
“Well, you’re lucky it didn’t take your head off. That little Aero must be tougher than it looks.”
“It was a rental car,” I stated quickly. My Aero was in the garage without a scratch on it.
“I just wanted you to know you’ve got two weeks to recoup. The network is doing a Christmas special and then the next week they’re doing a top 100 music count down. I tell you if our show hadn’t been so popular they would have cut our throats for-”
“Don, I‘ve got to know something about Remake. Is there anyway someone could have tampered with the voting results?”
He looked confused and a little upset at the question, “No-we have an independent accounting firm that takes care of the tallies. We aren’t allowed to have anything to do with that part.”
“Good,” I sighed.
“Why? Did you think we were cheating?”
“I just wanted to be sure that I earned my spot and it wasn’t the result of-of ownership.”
“Absolutely not. The owner doesn’t-”
“Micah Gavarreen,” I stated. I could see it shocked him that I knew who owned the show. “He’s my ex-husband and I had no idea-”
“Ah, shit! You’re kidding, right? But, you’re a Winslett.”
“You honestly didn’t know who he was to her?” Ryan asked, butting into the conversation.
“Is that why I didn’t have to audition like the other contestants?”
“He insisted you were going to have a slot, without an audition, but I didn’t know he was… If the press gets wind of this we’re sunk. We can kiss next year goodbye.”
“Well, there are only five people that know and three of us are in this room. The other two are Micah and Ryan’s girlfriend.”
“I thought you were Ryan’s girlfriend.”
“No, that was a ruse. We’re only friends.”
“Good grief, are there any other secrets I should know about, like you’re secretly a man or something?”
I laughed in spite of the pain. It was the only humor I’d felt in days.
“Where is he, by the way?” Ryan asked.
“He’s at the studio. I mean he has spent most of his days and evening in his office, but just in the last two days he’s actually started walking around the studio and meeting the crew.”