The Secret Billionaire, page 20
“I said, get your fucking hands off her,” Eddie says again, his tone lethal, moving forward faster than I can blink and grabbing Steve’s arm, shoving him away from me. Pulling me against him, I feel his body heat as he steps in front of me slightly, his chest full and high. I nearly lose my breath when I realize he is putting his body in front of mine for protection. His body is tight, his already tall posture now looking even taller. I grit my teeth harder, surprised they don’t crack under the pressure. I can’t get him involved, but my body won't move as Eddie still holds my hand. I lean into him a little. I need him. I need Eddie to be safe and to be with me. Steve takes a few steps back and starts to laugh.
“I have a tape,” Steve taunts with a grin on his face like this is the best day ever, and my body shivers.
“What tape?” Eddie asks, moving forward again, not at all intimidated by Steve. The first person in my entire life not to be. My breath stops in preparation for Steve's words. I can’t move. My body is in complete shock and my muscles are locked in place. Eddie is going to find out exactly who I am, and he will drop my hand quicker than touching a hot poker. As if a billionaire wants to be involved with a girl like me.
“It's Katie here, flat on her back. Enjoying my dick,” Steve spits out, and I feel like I’m going to be sick, my eyes stinging with renewed tears. I hate him. I always hated him, but at this moment, I absolutely despise him. My heart hurts. I didn’t think it was possible for it to hurt any more, but it does. The sting of shame coats my skin as bile rises in my throat.
“Stop, Steve. I will get you the money. Eddie, just go inside,” I say, not sure how I am even standing upright. I feel dizzy. Eddie’s body is still stiff beside me, and I feel his hand begin to move. I start to let go of him, and my heart shatters all over again. He isn't here for me. He would never have loved me, anyway. But I really, really want him to.
But he doesn’t let go. He regrips my hand and holds me tighter.
“Go inside? This fucker is blackmailing you?” Eddie says, looking at me, his eyes molten fire. I see him clenching his jaw. His body is wired. He is not happy. Not at all.
“No. I’m blackmailing you,” Steve says, walking toward Eddie slowly, cocky, with a bit of swagger like he holds all the cards in this situation. Because he does. “You’re a Rothschild, aren’t you? Worth billions, and you probably fund this entire hospital. Kitty Cat, is this who you fucked to get this job?” Steve is toying with us and enjoying it.
“Fuck you,” I spit out.
“You got trouble out here, brother?” I hear a man's voice from behind me, and I turn quickly, looking over my shoulder to see Tennyson standing there, just behind us, arms crossed over his chest like a security guard. Harrison and Ben are just behind him. But Eddie still doesn’t move. His eyes are firmly on Steve. It is all my fault. I am going to take down all these men. My eyes flick across to the media, and I see the three Rothschild women over there, grabbing the journalists’ attention and moving the cameras farther away from us and around the corner. What is happening?
“Well, now we have a billionaire-dollar audience. Let me cut to the chase. I want a million dollars, in cash, or else I will put your girlfriend all over the internet for the world to see just how perfect her little pussy is,” Steve says, and in that moment, I realize that my life is never going to be the same again.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE - EDDIE
The guy harassing Katie barely finishes his sentence before my fist flies out and connects with his face. I hear the crunch of his cheekbone before he falls over, lying flat on his back on the sidewalk like the piece of shit that he is. If he has a video, no one will be seeing it.
“Shit!” I hear Harrison curse from behind us.
“Go, baby bro,” Tennyson says, stepping up to us, grabbing my shoulders just as I lunge forward to punch this fucker again. Not even a second later, I hear yelling as security comes running. They hold him on the pavement, but he is barely lucid.
“Get up, you fucking piece of shit,” I seethe. I have never been this furious. My body hums with adrenaline as I try to get out of Tennyson’s grasp just so I can punch this fucker again. How dare he touch her. How dare he threaten her. How dare he blackmail any of us. I look down at Katie, who I can feel is shaking by my side, and I try to rein in my anger. Her eyes water as she looks up at me.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she says over and over, like this is her fault, and she starts to step away from me. Pulling her back to me, my hand still holds hers tightly. I reach out for her with my other hand, cupping it around her middle and tugging her close. She isn’t going anywhere.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” I hug her tight, wrapping one arm completely around her, the other cupping her head, keeping her with me. I breathe the words into her hair as I tuck her into me. She takes a deep breath, and then I feel her let go, her body relaxing into mine as she lets me hold her. She gives herself to me, and I am never fucking letting her go. Her arms circle around my torso, and she buries her head in my chest. I don’t need to look at her to know that she is crying. Her body is shaking almost uncontrollably, my shirt already wet.
My knuckles hurt, but my heart hurts more. I have a million fucking questions running through my brain, including who is he, and why is he calling her fucking Kitty Cat? It took me a while to find her tonight. After searching half the hospital, Shelley pointed in this direction while she was on the phone, clearly knowing who I was searching for. When I looked through the doors and saw her speaking to this guy outside the hospital, my stomach churned, and I almost walked away. But there was something about the way she was standing, and one look at him and I knew he was trouble, whoever he is.
“You guys should go,” Harrison murmurs, coming up to my side, looking down at the piece of shit before us. My eyes are glued to him as he rolls around and moans on the pavement, his hand grabbing his cheek. The more I look at him, the more I realize he is obviously drug addicted. His eyes are black, his appearance disheveled, and he stinks. I glance at his hand, his skin scattered with random tattoos, reminding me of the way he had a hold on her arm just moments ago. I want him in pain. I want him hurt and on the pavement, but my immediate concern is her.
“Sir,” Tony says, grabbing my elbow, and I look back at my brothers.
“Go. We got it.” Ben nods, and I know that they do so I don’t hesitate. I lift Katie into my arms, her barely weighing a thing, and her arms wrap around my neck, her fingers instantly digging into her familiar place at my nape. As Tony and I walk to the car, I see movement to the side and look up, noticing a young girl who looks just as disheveled, her blond hair matted, her face dirty, and her eyes lock with mine. I watch her as I walk. She doesn’t have a camera or cell phone, so she’s not taking photos of what’s happening. She is just watching everything before she steps away and ducks back into the shadows.
“You fucking asshole. I will sue you for that,” the guy says from where he lies on the sidewalk as he is pulled to his feet by Harrison’s security team. His hands are secured behind his back, and I notice his face is already starting to swell. I want to step forward and hit him again. I am not a violent person. Never have been. But I swear if I ever see him again, I will end him.
“My place, Tony,” I instruct him as he opens the door of the car, and I sink into the back seat, keeping Katie on my lap, my hold on her unwavering. She hasn’t seen my place before. All the time we spent with each other has been in her apartment. Even though both places are secure, mine is bigger, and I know my brothers will come around later. There is a lot to unpack from this.
“I’m sorry,” she says again quietly, her face leaning on my chest, now looking out the window as we drive down the street. Her body is still shivering, her nervous system almost completely out of control.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I say, my hand rubbing up and down her back, trying to soothe her, the other curled around her legs.
“I have probably just ruined your life. He will sue you. He is an asshole like that.” Shaking my head, I lean down to place my lips on her head.
“As long as you are with me, I don’t care what he does,” I tell her honestly.
“You still want me?” she asks, rearing her head back, looking at me like I am crazy.
“Why the fuck wouldn’t I want you?” She is everything I want and more. Why would this change anything?
“Because I’m a mess that comes with a cargo ship of baggage. I have no family. I grew up in trailers. I have no friends. I have a stalker who will continue to blackmail me until I die. Most likely at his hand…” she says, and I growl.
“How long has he been holding this over you? How long has this fucker been blackmailing you?” I spit out, angry not at her, but at that vile piece of shit that I left on the pavement.
“For years…” she admits. My hand continues to rub her back, keeping her warm, her body still shaking.
“Is he the person who was following you? The one who has you scared? Shit, he was the guy who planted his face in the car window when we went for our picnic, isn’t he?” I ask her, the puzzle pieces slowly starting to fall into place.
“Yes. He follows me everywhere. He followed me to Baltimore. He is everywhere I go.” I feel the fear rolling off her.
“He is not fucking coming anywhere near you ever again.”
“But he has the tape…” she whispers, her wet eyes searching mine.
“No one is going to see that tape,” I promise her as we approach our building, and the car drives down to my basement.
“How do you know? He will do anything for money.” Her eyes plead with me, and I hold her even tighter.
“Who is he? How do you know him?” I ask what has been on my mind since I saw them together.
“He is my foster brother.” She swallows, waiting for my reaction. She slept with her foster brother? Her answer leaves me with even more questions.
“Do you trust me?” I ask, gritting my teeth together. Now is the time. I will help her with this situation, regardless of what she says, but this is my last attempt. If she really doesn’t want me, then she will let me know, and I will walk away after I help her. I watch her swallow, but her eyes don't waver from mine.
“Yes. Yes, Eddie, I trust you,” she says with such conviction, there is no doubt. I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, and my hand runs up her body. Cupping her face, I look into her eyes. I lean forward a little, rubbing my nose against her nose, taking a moment to just be with her. Reveling in our closeness, I take a deep breath and smell her familiar floral scent. Her hand comes to my neck, her fingers tangling in the hair at my nape.
“I fucking missed you.” I feel like I can breathe again.
“I fucking missed you.” She smiles a little, and I huff a small laugh.
“Good. Now let’s get inside. We need to talk.” Tony opens the car door, and I step out with her still in my arms, carrying her to my private elevator, then up to my penthouse where she will see the real me, and I will hear about the real her.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR - KATIE
As the elevator opens and he steps into his space, I am not sure what to look at first. The apartment I am staying in is luxe. This one… I have no words.
“Here, sit. I will get us some drinks.” He puts me on his soft white sofa, and I still.
“What's wrong?” he asks, concern laced in his face. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” I say quickly, not sure what to do. I feel vulnerable right now. Raw. Not sure what I should or shouldn’t do. Reality starts to seep in that I now have to tell him everything. I look up at him, wondering if he can handle it. Keeping my hands in my lap, I sit on the edge of the sofa, too scared to move.
“What is it?” he says, looking down at me, trying to figure out what is wrong.
“You have a white sofa,” I say almost in a whisper, my body trembling.
“Yeah…” he questions, his brows furrowed. “And?”
“What if I get it dirty?” I ask, confused as to why he doesn’t understand this. I had a foster family that had a white sofa. I remember I sat on it and made it dirty, and they were not happy.
“I don't care. It is just a sofa,” he says, his face softening as he continues to watch me. I remain quiet, trying to get my body to relax. I feel like I have been bared wide open, my past filling my body again, everything I usually push down now floating to the surface as memories rear their ugly heads. “Pinkie,” he says as he squats in front of me. “I don’t care about a dirty sofa. I just care about you.” Leaning forward, he kisses my lips. I forgot how soft his lips are, how tender his touches. I feel my body relax instantly, and he pulls back, the kiss over too soon. “Relax. Let me get us a drink, then we can talk,” he says, his hands rubbing up and down my arm, soothing me.
“Okay,” I whisper and watch him stand again to walk over to his kitchen. I inhale a deep breath and take it all in. I feel guilty again. Guilt for bringing this mess into his life. Guilt for not being honest with him when I demanded it from him. Guilt for not being stronger, not handling my own shit. The guilt continues to swirl, mixed with adrenaline and nerves, making a sickening concoction in the pit of my stomach.
The white sofa I am on is massive and so soft. I count the spaces, wondering how many could sit here, and I stop at around nine. It faces a couple of matching white armchairs. There is a large gas fireplace and just beyond the room are floor-to-ceiling windows, taking in the entire city below.
“Here,” he says, passing me a bottle of water, which I take eagerly, not realizing until now how parched I am. I take a quick sip as I watch him move around and sit next to me. He has an ice bucket and a small towel, and I look at his bruised and bloodied knuckles.
“Let me,” I say, putting the water bottle down and grabbing the towel, placing some ice in it as he sits next to me. Our legs are touching, and I lean over to grab his hand. His knuckles are red, one of them split open a little. There is a small amount of blood, but he is ignoring it. I wrap his hand quickly to remove it from his sight completely. His hand comes up and cups my face, stopping my action.
“You are safe here. I want you more now than I ever have. When I saw that asshole had his hands on you, I wanted to rip his arms completely from his body.” His words make me swallow. They both calm me and make me want to vomit. I lean my face into his palm, preparing myself for what I’m about to tell him.
“I met Steve when I was around ten. We were put into the same foster family. He is a few years older than me, so I idolized him. I would follow him and his friends around everywhere. He stood up to the bullies at school for me. Used to give me some of his lunch when I had none. We were both outcasts, and he was my big brother. Protective. Helpful. Consistent,” I say, starting this story, yet knowing that over time, I will share many others. I pause to ensure my voice is steady, a lone tear running down my face. I go to wipe it, but Eddie beats me to it. Cradling my face in his hands, I look him in the eye and continue.
“We were in that family together for a few years. The foster father was violent. A bit of a drinker. He hit me once, and Steve was angry. That night was the first of many beatings that Steve took from him for me. It was like Steve declared a war, but because he was just a teenager, he could never fight back. He was never strong enough. He got beat almost weekly for a while. He couldn’t compete with the man who was supposed to look after us.” I think back to that man who was the one that changed Steve’s life. It was because of that foster father that Steve’s personality changed. I see Eddie’s nostrils flare, but he remains quiet, letting me speak.
“Steve was sent away after a while, and I didn’t see him again until years later when I was sixteen. I used to stay in the school library until it closed at around eight at night. It was warm and they had free coffee. I used to fill up on coffee because I was hungry. My foster family at the time wasn’t generous with food and the heating bill was always too high so they never put the heater on. The library became my haven for a while,” I say, shrugging. I can see Eddie not liking any of this, but I push through. He needs to know.
“They didn’t feed you or welcome you?” he asks, and I just shake my head. That's another story for another time.
“Anyway, I was walking home, and a car pulled up. It was Steve. He was much older, but I recognized him straightaway. He offered to take me to a party, and I didn’t hesitate. It was Steve. My big brother. I had missed him, and he was cool, you know. He had a car, and he was taking me to a party, where I knew it would be warm and they would have food. Plus, he had some friends in the car and they all seemed happy to have me along, so…” I shrug again, the worst part coming.
“We got to the party, and I lost Steve almost immediately. He was in the corner, kissing some girl. One of his friends got me a drink. I remember the house being nice and warm, because I took off my jacket and drank that drink fast. After a while, I felt a little funny and started looking for Steve. Two of his friends escorted me down the hallway, telling me Steve was in one of the rooms. I wanted to go home. I felt sick and just wanted to let him know I was leaving.”
“Jesus, fuck.” Eddie removes his hands from my face and rubs his palms up and down his thighs. He sits forward a little, almost bracing himself, obviously aware that what I’m about to say is going to be upsetting. I curl my hands in my lap, take another breath, and continue, but before I do, his hand grips mine, giving me the strength I need. I hold his hand tight, not wanting to let go.
“They opened a bedroom door, and I walked in. Steve was there. I remember him sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up at me and smiling. I started to tell him I wasn’t feeling good, then the door shut behind me, and his two friends stood between me and the door. I don’t remember too much after that. I remember feeling panicked as they grabbed me and put me on the bed. I remember looking up at one who was holding a cell phone and filming. The light on the phone was bright, and I remember trying to lift my arm to my face to block it. They took it in turns. But Steve was first. He wanted to be the one who took my virginity. He wanted to take as much as he could from me,” I say, silent tears now rapidly falling. Eddie’s hand holds mine so tight, it is almost painful.
