Star Crossed (Stargazer #1)(43)
Author: Jennifer Echols

“For some reason,” he growled in her ear, “around you, I’m as wrinkled as I’ve ever been. Metaphorically.”

“I metaphorically wrinkle you,” she puzzled with her eyes closed. It wasn’t exactly a compliment, but an acknowledgment that she affected him in a fraction of the way he affected her—

—and then his hand moved from her waist down to her hip and rubbed there, the same hard strokes he’d used on her neck, lending her comfort at the same time he lit her on fire.

“Now tell me why Colton bothers you,” he coaxed her. “You promised.”

She didn’t want to go back there. But she felt so comfortable under Daniel’s hands that she almost didn’t mind telling him. Almost. She sighed, “In high school, I had this boyfriend. He was the reason I left West Virginia. Colton reminds me of him, though I understand that makes no sense. It is so annoying to turn human and have normal, illogical emotions right in the middle of a case.” She laughed nervously. “You wouldn’t know about that.”

His hand never stopped rubbing her hip. “Tell me what happened,” he said.

“I was eighteen. Rick was twenty-one. He had a friend who ran a club in town and gave me a gig stripping, even though I was underage.”

“What?” Daniel asked sharply. His hand gripped her waist.

“I know.” She didn’t like admitting any of this, especially to Daniel. But he deserved to know why Colton made her crazy. And she had promised. Besides, it was easier to talk when she faced away from Daniel, staring at the far wall. And easier still when his hand moved along her hip again.

She explained, “I always wanted to be part of Hollywood. So did Rick. He told me I was beautiful. He wanted me to try stripping. From there I would get discovered. I would be the next Anna Nicole Smith. This was after she was a model, but way before she died. She was kind of staggering around her reality show, and I pointed out to him that she wasn’t the best role model. But I danced for a week and we made more money than we’d ever seen before.”

“We,” Daniel repeated.

“Right. I’d gotten a scholarship to college in New York. Rick didn’t want me to go. He wanted me to strip for a while longer and see how it went.”

Daniel interrupted her, disgust in his voice. “That is—”

“I know,” she stopped him. “You don’t have to tell me. It seems ridiculous to me now. But I can remember how I felt then, like it was yesterday. My dad was always either at work or drunk. When he didn’t have a job, he was just drunk. Rick paid attention to me. I thought he listened to me. He said he loved me. And stripping wasn’t so bad. I didn’t mind dancing or taking my clothes off. I guess I’ve always been a little Lorelei-esque. Not ashamed of my own body. I did mind that men called me names while they were stuffing dollar bills in my garter. Maybe I believed them a little bit. And when Rick said that I couldn’t handle New York, that I wouldn’t stay in school, that I was too much like my daddy and I wouldn’t be able to keep a job, that I’d just end up stripping there anyway but it would be darker and dirtier and soon I’d be dead . . . I almost believed him, too.”

Daniel let out a pained sigh, his warm breath blowing chills down Wendy’s neck. Wendy’s heart broke. He was acting like a concerned friend, ready to talk her out of self-destruction. But that friend hadn’t existed for her back then, when she’d needed him.

“You left, though,” he said.

“I did. Despite our heady week of profits, I took the bus to New York the next day. I guess I was thinking in the back of my mind that he might follow me, but after a few days at college, I felt safer and more at home than I’d ever felt.”

“And then he followed you?”

Suddenly Daniel’s body was too hot against her back. Sweat pricked her forehead, and the air in the room was suffocating. She rolled away to face him, then sat up on the bed. Blinking at her, he sat up more slowly.

She took a deep breath. “He was standing outside my dorm room when Sarah and I came back from our first dinner together at the caf. He said he wanted to talk with me in private. I said no, of course, and Sarah and I tried to slip into the room without him, but he pushed her out and dragged me in and chained the door. He put his forearm on my throat.” She balled her fist and reached up to put her arm near Daniel’s neck, not touching him, just showing him, as full of rage as Rick had been. “He told me I was only good for one thing, and I would fail at everything else, because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. That I was a worthless slut and I deserved to be raped and left to die. I mean, he—” She squeezed her fist tightly because she couldn’t press down on Daniel’s neck as hard as Rick had pressed hers. He’d choked her until her legs collapsed beneath her. His body had been a blur as sirens sounded outside the dorm and he ran out of her room.

Beyond her arm, Daniel stared at her, steady and unmoved as ever. The room was bright with desert sunlight. She was safe.

“Sorry,” she said, putting her hands in the air near his chest, not quite touching him. “I didn’t mean to—” She swallowed. “And I’m sorry about the way I acted toward Colton. He looks so much like Rick that I didn’t want the Lorelei gig in the first place. I knew I’d be dealing with him sooner or later. I wouldn’t have taken this account if my job hadn’t been on the line.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Daniel seethed.

Wendy frowned at him. She’d felt she owed him an apology for blowing up at Colton, but she hadn’t thought he would be this angry. “Why would I tell you Colton looked like my boyfriend from ten years ago? I didn’t think I would have that much of a problem with it until—”

“I saw that guy,” Daniel insisted.

“Who?” she breathed.

“Your boyfriend. Rick. He was in the casino playing blackjack at the same table as Colton when I got here Monday.”

“No,” she protested. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” Daniel said grimly. “There was a disturbance in the Big O on Monday night because fans thought they’d seen Colton, but it wasn’t him. Right after that, a lock of your hair went missing.” He reached out to touch the side of her head where one of her curls was gone, even though she’d trimmed the jagged ends and tucked them into the rest of her hair. “Last night, the bouncer at the museum wouldn’t let Colton in because he was allegedly already inside. That must have been Rick, too, making his way in before Colton did. Another lock of your hair disappeared. He knocked you out and took Colton’s camera.”