“It was harmless,” I nearly shout. “You’re being ridiculous.”
His face turns into a twisted snarl, and I know instantly I screwed up. I watch as his eyes go cold.
“You think you can do better than me?” he grits out. “I made you who you are.”
“That’s not what I said, Elias.”
“You think because you’re on TV, my TV show, you can do whatever or whoever you want?”
I tug, trying to free my wrist. “It’s your dad’s show.”
My stomach sinks because I shouldn’t have argued with him. He pulls me closer. Too close. Before I can react, his other hand comes up too quick. His fingers grip my throat, forcing me backward until my back, shoulders, and head slam into the wall. A picture frame crashes to the floor beside us, glass shattering across the marble, covering my feet. I don’t register the licks of pain, too focused on his hands around my throat.
I grab his wrist with both hands, trying to pull away, but he’s too strong, too mad, and I can’t get leverage. I can’t breathe. My lungs burn and my eyes widen as panic floods my chest.
“You think those people actually like you?” He’s yelling now, his face inches from mine as spit hits my cheek. “They like you because ofme. I brought you into this world and you’re nothing without me.”
I try to speak, try to agree with him, because I’ve turned into nothing without him and this show, but my voice is too strained to understand.
Stars start to dance at the edges of my vision.
“You embarrassed me in frontof people—important people—then you walk away as if you don’t deserve to be punished. You don’t get to disrespect me like that, or have you forgotten your place, Snow White?”
My chest seizes at the nickname. I’ve never heard him call me that, but if he’s using it now, then he has to agree with what the girls said about me. I claw at his hand, nails digging into his skin, but he doesn’t react. He keeps screaming and squeezing. The room starts to tilt as the lights blur. My chest burns and my ears ring. My hands start to feel weak, and my legs shake.
This is going to be the end.
My vision tunnels, shrinking until all I can see is his face and the rage in his eyes. But as he starts to fade, another familiar face takes his place.
Cerulean eyes and dirty-blond hair hidden behind a backward cap.
And right before everything goes dark, I beg to live, because I don’t want to die here.
“Wren! Wren, wake up.”
Someone’s shaking me and my stomach sinks with dread. Fear.
“Wren, baby, wake up.”
I’m gasping for air when I open my eyes, my hands clutching at my throat like I still can’t breathe. The room is dark. Too dark. But I’m grateful for the little bit of moonlight still drifting in through the window.
This isn’t LA. I’m in my cottage on the farm, nowhere near California.
Elias isn’t in my bed. Jett is. Oh my gosh, Jett’s in my bed. Right now. Witnessing me having a nightmare from a past I’m ashamed of. A past I’ve been terrified to talk about.
“You’re okay, baby.” His expression is one of panic as he runs his hands down my arms. I’m still breathing heavily, tears streamingdown my cheeks.
He pulls me into him, and I bury myself in his bare chest, sobbing and trying to catch my breath. I’m ashamed and embarrassed, needing to hide so he can’t see every emotion playing across my face. But it’s Jett; he already knows.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs into my hair, rocking back and forth. “I’ve got you, baby. You’re okay.”
He just holds me as I cry, never rushing me.
And I think I fall in love with him all over again.
Chapter 26
Wren
