Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
“Oh no.” Seeing her tears have mine coming in faster, and as we sit on the floor of the dressing room, waiting for the love of my life, the two of us turn this shopping disaster into a messy sob-fest.
The screaming outside eventually eases, but I have no doubt they’re still there, more than ready to wait me out, and after twenty minutes, when the rowdiness starts up again, I realize Ezra has arrived. The paparazzi demand comments from him, and all I can do is listen as the store attendants try to get Ezra’s team through the door without causing any more issues.
“Where is she?” I hear Ezra ask a moment later.
“Back here,” one of the shop attendants says.
It takes only a moment before the front of my little dressing room is crowded with people, and I glance up, expecting to see Ezra and a few of his security team, but instead, I find Ezra surrounded by no less than eight men in black suits, Dylan, Rock, and even a few of the guys from the label I’ve come to know over the past few weeks.
“Woah,” Madds says, echoing my thoughts.
Ezra looks down at us, taking in the train wreck on the ground before pulling me to my feet. “You okay, Rae?” he asks, gently gripping me by my arms as his dark eyes bore into mine.
I shake my head, the idea of the world knowing about the abuse I suffered at my father’s hand haunting me like never before. “I just . . . Take me home.”
Ezra nods and pulls me in against his strong chest. “Whatever you need,” he tells me, his hand roaming up and down my back. “We’re going to get to the bottom of this.”
I don’t have the strength to tell him I’ve already figured it out, that it was my father. He told the world what he did to me after seeing me on stage in Madrid. Who knows, all these years he probably assumed I was dead, and while telling the world what a monster he is wouldn’t be doing him any favors, I get the feeling he doesn’t care. As long as I’m miserable and hurting, he’s happy.
“Hey,” Dylan says, stepping in beside me and Ezra, his hand lingering on my back as he steals my attention. “I’m sorry, Rae. I had no idea any of this was going on. If we knew, we would have come home. We—”
“Don’t,” I say, stepping out of Ezra’s arms and right into Dylan’s. “Don’t start beating yourself up over it. I went out of my way to hide it. You couldn’t have known.”
Rock grabs my arm and pulls me out of Dylan’s, locking me in a tight bear hug as he drops his chin to the top of my head. He’s not a man of many words, but he has big feels, and they always hit the hardest. “I’m okay,” I promise him, both of us knowing I’m lying right through my teeth.
I pull back, wiping the stray tears from my eyes as I look at my three boys, desperately needing the attention to be off me. I can’t handle their broken hearts and helpless stares all at the same time. “Okay, so is now a good time to tell you that Dylan and Madds accidentally made a sex tape?”
Madds gasps behind me, and all eyes fly to her, including the eight security guards around us. “The fuck, Rae?” she demands. “I thought we were keeping that on the downlow.”
Dylan grins and steps toward her. “No, shit. Huh? A sex tape?” he says, excitement dancing in his tone. “I suppose it was only a matter of time. Let me see. I bet I fucking rocked it.”
Madds drops her face into her hands, embarrassment flooding her. “Oh, you did,” she mumbles into her hands.
Dylan loops his arm over her shoulders and drags her out of the dressing room with the rest of us. “So, what’s the deal? Are we doing this? Cause I need to get home. Apparently, we’re having a movie night,” he says, pulling Madds even closer, her cheeks flushing while looking between me, Rock, and Ezra. “You guys wanna join? We can have popcorn.”
I can’t help but laugh. He really does want to have a viewing party for his sex tape.
“No,” Madds laughs. “Nobody but you is seeing this tape.”
“Oh,” Dylan says, his face falling. “Is it not good? We can make a better one if you’re worried about angles.”
Her brows arch. “You wanna make another one?”
“Baby, I’ve never come so hard in my life,” he says, his voice lowering as his eyes dance with a wicked enjoyment. “I’ll make one every day for the rest of my life if it means getting to eat that sweet—.”
“Okay,” Ezra says, cutting him off. “Let’s go before we get roped into being the cast and crew for Madison Takes My Big Square Gardens, Part Two.”