Little nun, where are—
I stopped, nearly dropped my phone.
She was on the beach, and she wasn’t alone.
STORY
“I’ve seen you in the news, Cinderella. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night at Unknown. A mistress now.” He ran a hand down my cheek and I jerked my head away.
“Is it true you can’t speak unless I give you permission?”
To avoid a clear silence, I stood up and grabbed my sandy heels.
“I could take you away,” he said. “You don’t have to live like this. We can go right now to my yacht.” He gestured behind him, to one of the many docked boats.
He seemed innocent enough.
A few months ago, I might have actually thought he was a prince, but the Fourth of July came flooding back. Those boats were filled with people who got off ripping wings off insects.
I shook my head, and started walking away. The fireworks above increased, exploding and dripping gold down the black night.
Hollywood gripped my arm, dragging me back. I
yanked my arm and he dug his fingers tighter into my flesh.
That’s when the rock in my stomach dropped.
He exhaled, like I’d put him out. “I didn’t want to have to do it this way.”
“I’m pregnant.”
His eyes heated, dropping to the bump. “I know.”
I didn’t wait for what came next, I shoved at him with all my strength. With elbows and knees and everything I had—but he was too strong. He was at least six-foot-two, and he played superheroes in the movies. Now he used that strength to shove me to the sand, to rip apart my dress.
I watched the glittery fabric float like butterflies in the air, land softly on the sand while he pawed viciously at my thighs. The firework finale was starting, lighting up the darkness with one exploding star after the next.
Defeated. Tired. Finished.
For a second, I let those emotions fill my chest. I felt like every day from the age of thirteen I’d been fighting men like Hollywood and I was so fucking tired of it.
Then his weight vanished. I stared at the sky and sucked cold black air into my lungs. Still stuck on the merry-go-round in my head. Until a growl of a word brought me back to the present.
“Hold him steady.”
Grayson.
“I want a go.”
And West?
I scrambled to a sitting position, pulling my knees to my chest.
West held Hollywood as Gray threw punch after punch, until a face that made millions was just a bloody, broken mess. They worked together to destroy him.
“My turn,” West gritted.
West shoved Hollywood off, and then Gray held him in place. After West had his turn, he was thrown to the sand as fireworks slammed into the stars above us.