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  I had made a vow to myself, a very long time ago; that I would only take on roles which I felt could influence an audience. So that person watching the show had something to take away from it. This was probably why it had taken me so long to break through, why achieving success in my career had been such a struggle.

  I sighed and sipped on my hot cocoa as I read some of the other letters. I was feeling now like every decision I had made in my life before this had been worth it.

  It didn't matter to me anymore, what I went through in New York or with Ryan. I'd nearly forgotten about the fact that I had wanted Thorn with an animalistic desire, that chances were that he would never want to see me again. All I could think about now was how happy I was with my own success. I had finally achieved something of worth.

  The last envelope in the pile was a discreet plain white. It only had my name on it, but it had been printed neatly and not handwritten. Something gave me the sense that this one had been sent by an adult, someone who was way more mature than the teenage girls who had written to me.

  I tore the envelope open carefully and flipped open the printed page. It was barely a letter. It had just one sentence printed in the middle of the page.

  I'm watching you, Ensley.

  Love,

  Ryan

  The page fell from my hand with a jerk, and fear began to course through my body. My hands rose up to my mouth, and a low shriek escaped my lips. I had stood up from my chair hurriedly and knocked the mug of hot cocoa all over the carpet.

  I glared at the sheet of paper lying on the desk now. It was like the words were emblazoned in my eyes. I blinked rapidly, and I couldn't get them out of my vision.

  In an instant, I was no longer the confident Ensley who was on the successful TV show. I was the frightened girl in my apartment in New York. How did he find me?

  With my heart in my hand, I rushed to the windows one by one. I was pulling the curtains shut in every room. I ran to double check the front door to make sure it was locked.

  I knew I was being watched. For the past few weeks, I had a nagging feeling inside me that I was constantly in the presence of someone else and my gut had been right. This wasn't just an empty threat. Ryan was manipulative, but he always meant his word. This wasn't just a way for him to scare me. He wanted me to know that he was a step ahead of me. That despite me leaving New York and him behind, he was still watching my every move.

  I slid down to the carpet, with my back pressed against the door. My breathing was ragged, and little pearls of sweat had formed on my forehead now. I felt like I was gagging like someone had their hand around my throat.

  I didn't know what to do.

  Every fear I had about Ryan was coming true.

  Chapter 11

  Thorn

  It had taken every ounce of will-power I could muster, to stop thinking about Ensley. She had completely and aggressively occupied my mind. I had spent the night trying every distraction that I could think of.

  Nothing worked.

  I kept picturing Ensley on the stool, sitting with her legs crossed, her tight rounded breasts under that shimmering blouse she was wearing, her dark painted lips. My thoughts wandered to what it would look like to have those lips around my cock. There was a movement in my pants again, and I had to do everything I could to not let off steam.

  Nothing would feel as good as actually having her.

  Distractions. I needed to distract myself. I drank, I did push-ups, I tried to fall asleep, I flicked through channels on the television, I did some more push-ups. Nothing seemed to do the trick. The only thoughts in my head were of how hot she looked tonight and how I would have given anything to go find her now.

  It was past midnight, and I had already spent close to two hours in my apartment trying to kill time. It was going to end up being another night of waiting up till the sun rose so I could go to Dirty Harry's and meet up with the guys. That's where I should have been tonight in the first place. If I hadn't ridden all the way downtown, I wouldn't have met Ensley, and then I wouldn't be feeling this fucked up in the head.

  I lay down on my bed now, staring up at the ceiling when I thought I heard my phone ring. I'd left it in the living room on the couch, and I rushed to it. On the screen, an unknown number flashed and my first thought was that something was going on with the club. My brothers were in trouble again.

  Cursing myself for not being with them tonight, I answered the call and heard a woman's heavy breathing at the other end.

  "Who is this?" I barked into the phone. My shoulders were heaving, and my brows were crossed. It wasn't until I heard Ensley's squeaky voice that I was able to relax.

  "It's Ensley, from the bar," she said, in a quiet voice and I couldn't believe that she was actually calling me.

  "There is no need to clarify. I know exactly who you are," I said, and I had to do everything in my power to not burst into a laugh of relief. I thought I would never hear from her, and here she was, calling me within a few hours of parting ways.

  "I'm sorry to call like this, I know it's late," I heard her say, and slowly, I sat down on the couch. I was getting the feeling that this wasn't just a social call. She sounded anxious and nervous over the phone.

  "It's okay. I wasn't sleeping," I told her, and I heard her take in a deep breath.

  "I probably shouldn't be calling you. It's just that…I didn't know who else to call," she said, and I ran a hand through the long hair on top of my head.

  "It's fine. What's going on?" I asked, and there was silence for a few moments. I could hear her heavy breathing in the background. Something was definitely up, and she had called me for help.

  "Ensley?" I urged her on, and she sighed again.

  "I don't know…I'm just…I'm just very scared right now, Thorn," she said, and within moments, she had broken down. I could hear her sobs and cries over the phone, and I stood up from the couch with a jerk. Hearing Ensley crying had a knee-jerk reaction on me. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't bear to hear her crying.

  "Tell me what's happening. What can I do?" I asked her, and she continued to sob and sniffle, till finally, she managed to breathe more naturally.

  "I don't know what you can do. I just needed to tell somebody that I'm scared," she said, and I was pacing the living room.

  "Okay, it's good you called me. I'm going to come over to you. Is that okay?" I said.

  I could hear her thinking for a few moments. I had no idea what was going on, or why she had called me or why she was so scared but all I could think of was the look of fear in her eyes at the bar. I was right. She was scared of something, and it had triggered again. The last thing I wanted was for her to keep feeling this way.

  "Okay. I'm at home," she replied, after a few moments of silence.

  "Give me your address," I said and listened as she called it out to me. I didn't need to write it down, I memorized it instantly.

  "Okay, I'm coming over now. Do you want to stay on the phone with me?" I said as I rushed to my front door. I was holding the cell phone to my ear as I put my jacket on.

  "No, I think I feel better now. You can't be on the phone while you're riding your bike anyway. I'll be fine," she said, in a small quiet voice.

  "Okay, just hold tight. I'll be there as fast as possible," I said, and with that, we ended the call.

  I ran out of my apartment and towards my bike. It was the middle of the night, and I was rushing to go to the apartment of a woman who I didn't know anything about. But I was glad that she had called me. I was glad that she had reached out for help and I felt a sense of responsibility towards keeping her safe. Funnily enough, I wasn't looking for anything in return. I just wanted Ensley to feel better.

  Chapter 12

  Ensley

  Even though I knew that Thorn was on his way to my apartment, I didn't have the energy to change out of my pajamas. Being in something sexy for him was the last thing on my mind right now.

  I was nervous as I waited for him. All the windows w
ere shut, the curtains were pulled, and there was just one dim floor lamp switched on in the living room. The letter from Ryan still sat on my desk, and I couldn't bring myself to go near it. I was sitting on the couch, my feet constantly tapping the floor as I waited for the moment when I would hear the knock on my door.

  I had no idea why I'd called him. Other than the fact that I was crazily attracted to the guy, he didn't owe me any reason to show up in the middle of the night. The very fact that he had rescued me from Murray was a gesture of pure politeness. He didn't have to do it. Just like he didn't have to come to my place right now.

  I knew I was asking a big favor. From someone who I barely knew. But at that moment, when I was terrified and scared that Ryan was somewhere close by, that he was watching me constantly; my mind had immediately gone to Thorn and the fact that he had given me his phone number.

  Even as his phone rang, I thought I was making a mistake. What if he was busy? What if he was sleeping? I was calling him within hours of meeting him. I was breaking every social code by calling him, but then he answered and just hearing his voice was enough. I felt safe.

  He offered to come to my place, it wasn't me who suggested it. Just the mere suggestion of it made me calmer. Knowing that Thorn was on his way to my apartment now, made me feel a whole lot better.

  I didn't know where Ryan was if he was watching me right now but all I needed to know was that Thorn would be here soon and I felt safe. Thorn would take care of it. He would be able to protect me from Ryan. I knew nothing about this man other than his ability to make me feel safe.

  My throat had run dry. The hot cocoa was still spilled on the carpet beside the writing desk, and I felt cold and alone. Just a few more minutes, I told myself. I had complete faith in Thorn and that he was rushing to get here. I pictured him on his bike, racing against the wind. I would have given anything to look into his green eyes, to be held by him.

  There was a knock on the door.

  "Ensley, it's me!" I heard Thorn's voice, and I ran to the door. I undid all the latches and bolts, and I swung the door open to see him standing on the other side.

  He was a big hulking mass of muscle and strength. His helmet dangled from his hand, his shoulders were heaving, his green eyes full of concern were focused on me. Thorn was looking me up and down.

  "Tell me what happened," were his first words and I stepped aside so that he could walk into my apartment. I shut the door behind him and locked it. Seeing him in my apartment, made my home feel much smaller. He was too tall, it seemed like the top of his head would graze the ceiling. Nothing. Nobody could touch me as long as Thorn was with me.

  "Was it that asshole? The douchebag from the bar?" Thorn was looking around the room, and now he turned to me. With his eyes intensely staring into mine again, suddenly I was very self-conscious of being in my pajamas.

  "No, it wasn't him. I don't know him. He doesn't know where I live," I said, and Thorn took a few steps towards me. His brows were crossed with concern now.

  "What is it, Ensley? Why are you scared?" he asked and I stared up at him, craning my neck so I could look into his eyes.

  Without a word, I walked around him and towards my writing desk in the corner. Ryan's note was lying there, and my fingers shook as I lifted it up again. I didn't want to touch it. Just holding the page made me feel like I was burnt, but with Thorn in the room with me, I had some courage.

  I brought the letter over to him, and he put his helmet down on the floor. With his eyes still on me, he took the paper from my hand and read it.

  I watched as his face darkened. His brows furrowed and his green eyes became small and filled with rage. I licked my lips furiously with nervousness.

  "Is this a threat?" he asked, jerking his face up to look at me again. I took in a deep breath and then nodded my head.

  Thorn clenched his jaw with anger and then scrunching the paper up, he tossed it to the waste paper basket at his side. He took a few steps towards me, closing the gap between us.

  My breath was locked in my throat as he reached his hands out to hold me by my arms. His fingers curled around my body, and they were warm and long, and it was like someone had covered me with a warm protective blanket. All I needed was for him to touch me. I hadn't even realized how badly I had needed that.

  "Ensley, I need you to sit down and tell me who Ryan is and what is going on. I need to know everything so that I can help you," Thorn said.

  I gulped and then nodded my head. At this point, I was ready to tell him anything.

  ***

  "Take your time," Thorn was crouched in front of me, while I sat cross-legged on the couch in my pajamas. This was not how I had pictured us being alone together the first time. However, this was what I needed at that moment. A strong but firm voice guiding me on. Just Thorn's presence alone was reassuring enough, and he seemed to know exactly what to do to make me feel better.

  "Ryan is an ex-boyfriend," I told him finally when I could find my voice, and he said nothing. He was staring at me, demanding further explanation. It was hard for me to talk about Ryan because I hadn't said his name aloud in the last five years. Ever since I came to LA, I hadn't spoken about him to anybody. I was ashamed and afraid of my past, and I always thought that talking about Ryan would make everything that I went through actually real.

  Besides, I hadn't made any real friends here anyway. None of the people I knew in LA were close or trustworthy enough to me for me to spill my heart out to them. Half of these girls would probably try to use it against me somehow. What was so different about Thorn then?

  I looked deep into his eyes, and for some reason, I couldn't explain, I felt comfortable under his stare.

  "He was abusive towards me," I finally said, and it felt like a weight was slowly being lifted from my shoulders. I had refused to say those words out loud for so long, that it felt good to finally get them off my chest. Thorn reached a hand out to stroke my knee. His touch was warm and comforting, and nothing about the way he held my knee was sexual and yet it was the sexiest thing anyone had ever done. I couldn't explain it, but I was ready to throw myself right into his arms.

  "In what way was he abusive? Verbally?" he asked, and I gulped. Thorn seemed like he was growing angrier by the second.

  "Yes, he was verbally abusive…and…and," I tried to get the word out, but it was stuck in my throat. I couldn't say it, not even to the man I trusted most right now.

  "Physically?" he asked, and I couldn't do more than just nod. I couldn't hold his gaze anymore. I looked away from him in shame and Thorn stroked my knee again.

  I never told anyone about my relationship with Ryan. When my friends or family asked, I would always just say that things ended badly. None of them really needed to know the whole truth.

  I gulped and looked back into Thorn's eyes as I felt tears threaten to fall down my face. I had hidden my bruises and scars from Ryan for years, and this letter was now resurfacing all of that pain that I had carefully hidden away in my mind.

  "You shouldn't be ashamed of it, Ensley. If there is anyone who should be ashamed, it's that fucking jerk of an ex-boyfriend of yours. No woman has ever done anything, in the history of time, to deserve to be verbally or physically abused by a man. I need you to understand that and stop blaming yourself," Thorn said. I stared at him as he spoke. I had never imagined those words coming from his mouth. He created such a different persona around him, and yet I was right about him having a strong moral sense.

  I nodded my head in agreement. Thorn was right.

  It took years, but I had finally started to realize that everything that Ryan had made me feel was wrong. Ryan had a way of manipulating me to believe in what he thought. He would always tell me how stupid I was and that my dreams of acting were a waste of time.

  When I finally started to think for myself, it took me six months to get up the courage to leave him. And with me moving to Los Angeles, I thought he was finally out of my life. But now, with this letter, I felt like my who
le world was crashing down on me again.

  "I know that, which is why I got away but sometimes, all of the pain I felt rushes back, and I get scared," I said, in a low whisper and Thorn clenched his jaw.

  "Of course, you're scared, you have every right to be. He's threatening you!" he exclaimed, and with that, he straightened himself up and shook a hand through his hair.

  "How did you manage to get away from him? Men like him don't usually let their victims go so easily," he continued, and I licked my lips nervously.

  I looked down at my lap as the memories I tried to forget came flooding back into my mind.

  Ryan and I had gotten angry with me. He was upset that I had gone to another audition. Ryan thought that my dreams of being an actress were stupid and childish and he always liked to remind me that I would amount to nothing. He blamed me for us struggled to pay rent, even though I was working two jobs while still going to auditions. He, on the other hand, was stuck at a dead-end job, that he refused to leave.

  That night when I walked back into our apartment, he was drunk. I should have known he would have been, but I was tired after my early morning audition and then late night shift. I didn't know it when I walked in, but my publicist had left me a voicemail on our answering machine saying that the casting director loved my audition and wanted to see me for callbacks. Ryan heard the voicemail, and he was stewing in anger by the time I got back home.

  The second I walked in the door, he started yelling. I tried to yell back but that only made it worse. That is when he started hitting me.

  He smacked me across the face, and I will never forget the intense pain his hand left behind. Once he hit me, it was like something snapped in him, and he was only left with drunken rage. He continued to hit me. In my ribs. In my stomach. Then he finally punched me in the face making my eye swell shut.

  Once I was a crying mess on the floor, he finally stopped. He said nothing and staggered back to the living room, grabbing another beer on his way. I stayed on that kitchen floor for hours. I was too terrified to move.