Page 31 of Forbidden Confessions: Vol. 2
Suddenly, a clicking noise sounds behind me, then something cold is pressed against the back of my skull. “Hello, Sophie.”
I know that voice, just like I know what’s prodding my scalp. The cold metal presses harder against my skull, gouging me.
I realize with crystal clarity that I’m about to die.
My hands shake as I slowly raise them. My heart trips into overdrive. “Why are you holding a gun to my head, Dorinda?”
“The answer should be obvious since I tried to have you killed this morning. I made sure Rob’s food got poisoned last night, just enough to incapacitate him, not kill him and draw suspicion. I needed you vulnerable, alone, so you’d be easy for my hired gunman to pick off.” She sighs. “I didn’t count on you having another bodyguard to save you. But today proves that when you want something done right, do it yourself.”
Panic sets in. If Dorinda says she’s going to do something, she damn well follows through.
If I let her, I’ll be dead.
“Wait! Why?” I demand to stall. “You’re still making money off of me.”
“But if you die now, everyone will remember you fondly as you were when you first appeared on the charts, not like the whore you are now.” She looks me up and down with a sniff. “Those wholesome songs will be downloaded and played. But this isn’t about money. It’s about disrespect.”
“You think I disrespected you?”
“I don’t think; I know. You threw me away like garbage after I made you a star. I gave you everything—my time, my connections, my reputation—and you repaid me by humiliating me publicly when you fired me. Time for you to pay.”
Shit. I have to keep her talking until Rand comes back and hope for the best. “How did you find me?”
She tsks as if my question—and me by extension—is annoying. “I’m far more clever than you ever gave me credit for. It was your lipstick. I paid the stylist to make sure you carried the tube, with the tracking device inside, just in case the gunman proved unsuccessful.” She sighs. “I hate being right so often.”
And I hate that she seems to have lost her damn mind. Was she always so full of malice?
Never mind. Not important. What is? Figuring out how to deal with Dorinda. The old me—before Rand—would have asked what she wanted and done my best to comply. Of course, the me without Rand wouldn’t have escaped the parade alive. We might not have had a lot of time to talk about how I should defend myself, but I learned a lot from observing him. One thing I know? Rand would never give in.
Neither will I.
“Very clever,” I murmur. Let her think she’s got the upper hand.
“I told you. You just didn’t believe in me enough.”
Wrong. I knew her professional limitations. They cost me millions. “Then we’re even. You didn’t believe in me enough, either. You sold me short.”
“I proceeded cautiously. After all, most child stars fail at going adult.”
“I’m not most.” Clandestinely, I align my elbow with her stomach, situated directly behind me, then give a vicious shove.
Instantly, she doubles over with an “Oomph!”
I don’t dare wait for a better opportunity or for Rand to return. Heart roaring, I spin around and shove her onto her butt. She’s not any bigger than me, but I’m stronger. I have surprise on my side. And I’m absolutely determined to come out of this in one piece.
But she’s desperate and unhinged, which makes her dangerous. Her finger tightens on the trigger as we struggle.
When I bend to swipe the gun from her, she raises it again and points it in my face. “You stupid fucking bitch. I’ve never killed anyone, but I’ll enjoy wasting you.”
Suddenly, I’m staring down the barrel of her gun. Oh, god. It’s over. I’ve failed.
Then the sound of a gunshot fills the air. I flinch, waiting to fall, bracing for death. Instead, something warm splatters me—blood?—as Dorinda jerks. Then she flops to the grass like a ragdoll, unmoving.
“Sophie! Are you okay?”
Rand! I turn and find him rushing up the hill, straight toward me, his aim still pinned on Dorinda.
“I-I’m fine.” I think. My voice trembles, but I’m in one piece.
