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“What do you think you’re doing, you little slut,” he spat. I turned to see him standing right behind me. His tee-shirt was dirty, with stains all down the front. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were unfocused. He was leaning on one foot, swaying slightly.
My heart started beating as the fear clawed up my throat.
He was here!
A small part of me was relieved that I wasn’t crazy. I had seen him. He had been following me. I wasn’t just a paranoid mess.
But a much, much bigger part of me was completely, utterly terrified.
“Seth,” I stammered. “What are you doing here?”
“I know what you’re doing, slut,” he spat. “I know that you’re going after that musician. What, you think he’s rich? Is that it?”
“What? No, we work together.”
Seth laughed, and a couple other patrons at the bar looked over. I clutched my purse, trying to catch someone’s eye, or look for something to defend myself with, or anything. I felt frozen.
“I saw you, Vee. I saw you kissing him, and I saw you in the airplane.”
“Did you… did you follow me here from Los Angeles?”
“I’m here to take you home. We’re meant to be together. This is wrong, and I’m not going to let you whore yourself out to the first guy who gives you attention.”
The outrage started competing with the terror in my stomach. How dare he talk to me that way! I hadn’t realized how verbally and emotionally abusive he’d been to me until after we broke up, and it was all rushing back to me now. The anger boiled in my veins as I thought of all the times he called me worthless, or ugly, or stupid.
I shook my head. “Please leave, Seth.” My voice was hard.
He just laughed.
“You need to go.”
“I don’t need to do anything. He doesn’t even have any money, did you know that? He’s as broke as you are.”
“I’m calling the police,” I said, trying to keep my voice from trembling.
Why wasn’t anyone doing anything? Surely they could see how scared I was? But as I glanced around, no one was even paying attention to us. The bartender was at the other end of the bar, and there were only a couple other people that were busy reading or looking at their phones or talking to each other.
Even with all these people around, I was completely alone.
“No, you’re not calling anyone. You’re coming with me.” He reached out and grabbed my arm above the elbow. His grip was like a vise and I cried out in pain.
Then, it happened like a flash. Seth let go of my arm and went flying off into a chair. It tumbled over as he fell on top of it, and he rolled over as he crashed, landing on his face. I screamed, and then strong, warm arms wrapped themselves around me.
Carter.
He smelled like masculinity and safety and home. I was shaking, and he held me tight, saying soothing words to me as he slowly moved between me and Seth.
“Carter,” I breathed. “I… Oh my God,” I said, as the tears started running down my cheeks. I couldn’t process what had just happened. I looked at Seth on the ground as he tried to stand up, and then up at Carter. His eyes were blazing, staring at Seth as he shielded me from my ex. He looked about seven feet tall, propped up by the anger inside him.
Seth looked him up and down, snarling but crouching away.
The bartender was yelling, and security appeared in the doorway. My ears were ringing, and I grabbed onto the bar for support. My head was spinning. I couldn’t see straight. Carter was saying something, but I couldn’t understand. He put his arm around my shoulder and lowered me onto a chair as the security team surrounded us.
“Morgan’s going to be so mad,” I said as my vision went blurry. Carter said something, but I didn’t understand. “Morgan’s going to kill me,” I told him. “You’re supposed to stay out of bad press and now I’ve ruined it.”
I was crying, and finally Carter just wrapped me in his arms and held me. He said something to the security team, and I vaguely realized Seth was being hauled off out of the hotel.
Carter helped me up, grabbed my bag, and led me to the waiting black sedan.
