“I was one of the worst producers you worked with? You’re the most temperamental, bitchy woman I have dealt with and that says a lot. Do you know I worked with one of those Housewives shows for a while? I never thought I would have to deal with that level of unprofessionalism again. But no, I get stuck working with two of the most untalented hosts on a show on the fucking At Home Network. And you didn’t even appreciate what I could do for you.”
“You chased me away from something I loved.”
But he’s paying no attention to what I’m saying. Instead, he’s pacing in front of me. “I knew this was a waste of time, but I thought that I would try. I mean, it’s not like you didn’t take my warnings seriously.”
Something very cold and dark sends chills racing through me. It’s weird because it is so damned hot out, but I can’t fight the shiver. I take a large step back and realize for the first time that I left my phone in my office.
“You warned me?” I try my best to keep my voice neutral. I need to get to the house, or at least get far enough away to scream. One word from me and he could probably get to me before the guys heard me. I could run for it because lord knows he couldn’t keep up with me.
Sweat beads his upper lip. “Yes. First the tire and then the table. You deserve pay for what you did to my career.”
Anger fills me, and even though I know I should keep my trap shut, I just can’t. “Me? I don’t think I’m the one who harassed women.”
“I didn’t harass you,” he sneers as if he’s disgusted by the idea. “I didn’t harass them, either.”
I really don’t know what went on, but the fact that At Home was ready to dump him as soon as they could means something bad happened. Also, what the hell does he think this is, other than harassment? This is why men in the industry have gotten away with shit for so long. They can claim we’re hysterical and unprofessional to cover up their behavior. But now is not the time to fight with him over the various issues at hand. It’s time for me to get the hell away from him.
I take another cautious step back, hoping I can get a little distance between us. I know I can get a lead running away from him, and if I shout while doing it, I will get away from him.
“Stop moving.”
I ignore his order. It’s been a long time since someone could order me around like that, and I’m not about to start allowing it now. I take another step and turn, but I don’t get far. The bastard grabs me by my hair and yanks me so hard I fall back against him. My head is stinging and there are tears in my eyes. I lose my balance and fall to the cement patio. I brace myself with my hand, which is a stupid move. Pain radiates from my wrist as my palms prickle from the cement. He is going to pay for that.
“I said to stay put, you stupid bitch.”
Oh, no, he did not just call me that. I get back on my feet. Using all my weight, I try to twist and pull away from him, but his fingers tighten around the strands of my hair and more tears fill my eyes. Dammit, that hurts like a mofo. I try to pull away again but this time, he yanks so hard I’m amazed that he hasn’t pulled the hair clean out. Panic and fear thread through my blood, and my only thought is that I need to get away from him. I try to shout while I push back against him, but his meaty hand covers my mouth. I draw in a breath but find it hard as his hand is also covering my nose. All I can smell is desperation and sweat. My stomach roils.
“You will pay for what you did. Stupid, fucking, cunt. Ahhh.”
All of a sudden, he’s gone. I stumble forward trying to catch myself before I face plant onto the cement patio. Hands grab me again, but this time they are gentler. I look up and find Frank helping me up.
“I’m sorry, Nancy. I should have stayed with you,” he says, regret filling his voice. My head is spinning, and I feel as if the entire world is a carousel and not in a fun kind of way. I finally register the sound of flesh against flesh. I turn and find Travis straddling Garrett, his fists flying as he pummels our former producer’s face.
“Travis,” I say, straining against Frank’s hold.
Travis stills and looks over his shoulder at me. Violent rage fills his gaze as he takes in my appearance. I slip out of Frank’s hold and walk over to him. I stop just inches from Garrett’s body, but I resist the urge to kick the bastard. Barely.
“He’s unconscious”
Then I hear the sirens and shouts. I touch Travis’ shoulder and he rises slowly. Then, before I know what’s happening, his arms are wrapped around me, squeezing me so tight I can barely breathe.
“I thought I lost you.” The raw pain I hear in his voice washes over me. “I couldn’t get hold of you, or the security, or anyone.”
“I’m okay,” I reassure him, squeezing him right back. “You saved me.”
He shudders against me and I feel the tears now. They are filling my eyes and spilling down my cheeks. He rocks me against his body, back and forth. Every now and then, I feel his lips brush against my temple. The quiet support breaks me. A sob escapes as I bury my head into his chest. I’m safe and barely hurt, but the reality of the situation is just now hitting me.
“Shh,” he says, still rocking me back and forth, as the security detail and the cops fill the area.
I pull back and look up at him. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. Garrett’s an asshole.”
“No. For before. The fight I started with you.”
His gaze softens. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll talk about it later.”
I hate that, but he’s right. There are cops and security and, Jesus, is that Mrs. Peterson filming the whole thing?
I nod. “But we will talk about it.”
“Fine. Now, let me get you out of here, at least into the house. It’s hot out here.”
I nod and take his hand. I let him lead me through the mess and into the house. Hopefully, we will get this all straightened out, because I just realized a life without Travis in it would be the worst. I’m not ready to give up on us.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Travis
I narrow my eyes and frown at Ms. Junie. She used to be the school nurse, but apparently, she’s working emergency care these days at the regional hospital. She’s a short, round woman, who used to be sweet on me when I was a teenager. Or, at least, she acted like she liked me. Now, though, she’s refusing to let me see Nancy.
“I don’t care if I know who you are, you are not her family. I can’t let you back there. Hospital policy.”
“I’m gonna give you hospital policy,” I growl, my fingers flexing as I stare her down. We’ve been here for about two hours, and they have yet to let me see her. Truth is, if we had gone to San Antonio, I would have easily been able to get back to her room at any ER.
She gives me a death glare, and I open my mouth to say something that will probably get me kicked out of here, but the doors bust open. My sister hurries forward and throws herself into my arms.
“You’re okay.”
I return the hug as Grady strolls into the room along with, well shit, Carter. Both men look worried, but not as panicked as Syd.
“We’re both okay,” I say and kiss the top of her head. Syd is a pain in the ass, but she’s the only family I have. She pulls back to look at me. It’s then that I take in her appearance. She’s wearing a pair of ratty jeans, a shirt with a stain on it. Her shoes have seen better days. And don’t get me started on her hair. God, the woman looks like she drove through a wind tunnel with wet hair. My sister rarely goes out of the house without looking perfect, so I know she’s worried about me.