“Trey was your stalker.” Decker’s fingers clench and release against my back.
My chin trembles. “I asked him about it. Of course, he denied it, but I knew. He approached me at that bar because he was already stalking me.” A surge of grief burns through my chest and pricks the backs of my eyes. “I knew he was the stalker and told no one. Not Reese or Elijah or the PI I hired.”
“Because you loved the son of a bitch,” Decker growls.
“I thought I did. I thought I could handle him. I thought he loved me too much to hurt me. I thought wrong.”
He grips the back of my blouse, pulls it from the skirt, and glides his palm across my scarred skin. “You don’t have to tell me any more.”
“I need to.” I relax against his warm touch and close my eyes. “It happened the night of the premier of Angel of Fear. Reese and Trey went to the viewing with me. After, Reese dropped us off at home. Trey was quiet but affectionate when he took me to bed. He…” I cover my mouth to stifle the sudden break in my voice. “He kissed me, fucked me. It was rougher than usual. I don’t know where the knife came from. I didn’t even know he was holding it while he was…f-fucking me.” A sob rises up, and my hands shake against the onslaught of memory.
Decker crushes me against his chest, shushing me, but the tension in his muscles suggests he’s struggling to rein in his anger.
“I fought him.” Tears leak from my eyes and wet my voice. “But it happened so fast, and he was bigger, stronger, and armed.” I suck in a breath. “I’m alive because Reese came back to the house to return my phone. I’d left it in his car. He heard my screams. Grabbed the gun I kept in my office. Trey fled before Reese fired off a shot.”
“You said Trey was dead?”
“He died two weeks later in a car crash in Texas.” I straighten on his lap and let him see the words I’m not saying.
He searches my face, and his brown eyes widen. “You hired—?”
I press a hand over his mouth and glance toward the rear of the plane. Only Reese and Elijah know the details.
Twining my arms around his neck, I touch my forehead to his temple. “We didn’t call the cops that night. Didn’t involve law enforcement at all. Reese took me to the one surgeon I trusted, an old friend of my father’s. As for Trey… I had him hunted down and removed from the face of the Earth, efficiently and quietly.”
“Thank fuck.” His hand curls around my waist. “I’d hate to miss out on this”—he squeezes my hip—“because I’m serving time for killing that motherfucker.” His tone softens. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”
My breaths catch in my chest. Did I do the right thing? Or have I fallen into another lovesick trap?
“Why didn’t you involve the cops?” he asks.
“Shame.” I touched the sudden hardness in his jaw. “I let my stalker move in with me and embed himself in my life. If that story is ever leaked, it’ll ruin me. I never even told Blake how I got the scars. Our marriage was doomed from the beginning, because I never trusted him with that secret. Never trusted him not to hurt me with it. As it turns out, my distrust was justified. He slept with every starlet he worked with, as well as my housekeeper and female bodyguards. Each time I confronted him about it, he beat the shit out of me.”
“He what?” Decker surges to the edge of the seat, his arms locking around me to keep me from falling.
“I’m messed up, Decker. I can’t even stay the night in L.A. because I’m haunted by memories of the relationships I had there.” Placing my hands on his chest, I nudge him back into the leather recliner. “I make awful choices when it comes to men. That’s why I let Reese choose my lovers, and why I turned to Infidelity. They selected you. That alone gives me hope. Though I specifically requested a submissive man, and you’re—”
“You don’t want a submissive.” He grips my jaw. “You want a man you can trust. The two are not related.” He releases my face, his expression contemplative. “Your cheating ex-husband needs a fucking beat down. One he won’t walk away from.”
“Decker—”
“He’s the reason you don’t have a housekeeper?”
I nod. “And why my bodyguards are all men. Except Rachel.”
“Your chauffeur…” He angles his head toward the back, spotting Rachel among the men. “She’s a bodyguard?”
“And a lesbian.” I give him a small smile. “If you make a pass at her, she’ll shoot you.”
His chest rises and falls, and he reclines deeper into the seat, taking me with him. His fingers find my hair, stroking from roots to tips over and over, spreading a comforting tingle across my scalp. I threw a lot of shit at him, and instead of pushing him for his thoughts on it all, I surrender to his touch, relax against chest, and close my eyes. Just as I begin to drift off, his hand stops its hypnotic caress.