Page 13 of Motion to Dismiss

MENTAL SUFFERING WHICH INCLUDES FRIGHT, FEELINGS OF DISTRESS, ANXIETY, DEPRESSION, GRIEF AND/OR PSYCHOSOMATIC PHYSICAL SYMPTOMS.

SCARLETT

Several Hours Later

I’m naked and lying on top of Jameson in the suite’s oversized bed.

He has one hand pressed against my back, and the other against my leg. I assume it’s so he’ll know if I try to leave him before check-out without saying goodbye.

That’s all there is to say, though.

Mind-blowing sex aside, nothing between us has changed.

And I doubt it ever will.

Leaning over, I reach toward the nightstand to grab my phone, but Jameson suddenly grips my wrist.

“I left the drawer wide open for you,” he says, his eyes still shut.

“Huh? What drawer?”

“I know you or someone else had to see it,” he says. “Why didn’t you see it?”

“I…” I shake my head. “Jameson, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Was it Ray McKnight?” he asks. “Did he put you up to this? Was it my stepfather?”

I stare at him, remembering that he’d fallen into a trance like this weeks after we first met.

He’s even saying the same words…

“Jameson…” I softly shake him. “Jameson, wake up.”

“My father didn’t do this and you know it.” He speaks even louder. “You fucking know it, Mr. Hansel...”

His grip on my wrist tightens, but his eyes remain shut.

“When I get done with you, Peter Hansel, you’ll be looking up at me from Hell, and regretting the day you ever fucked me and my family over.”

“You’re hurting me, Jameson.” I bang on his chest with my other hand as he squeezes me even tighter. “Jameson, stop!”

“Fuck you, Peter Hansel,” he says. “Fuck. You.”

“Jameson—” I hit him as hard as I can. “Please, just⁠—”

“What?” His eyes flutter open and he releases his grip on my hand, looking completely nonplussed about the past minute and a half. “What are you doing, Scarlett?”

“You hurt me during a nightmare.” I hold up my hand in front of him, showing off the deep red marks on my skin. “I tried to get you to wake up.”

“I’m so fucking sorry…” He glances at my hand, looking ashamed.

Slowly rolling me off him, he gets out of the bed.

“Stay right here,” he says, leaving me alone in the room.

Ignoring the sudden flare of pain, I grab my phone and check the time.

3:00 a.m.