Public Secrets

promoters, and buttoned-down executives who fawned over the great Brian McAvoy. They’d be fawning over Drew Latimer before long, he promised himself. Then she’d pay.
He’d almost decided to let her have her glory. Then she’d had the nerve to hang all over that “friend.” She needed to be taught a lesson for that. And he was just the man to do it.
He was silent on the ride home. It didn’t seem to bother Emma. She was half asleep beside him. Pretending to be asleep, Drew decided. She’d probably already made plans to meet that creep Kesselring.
He imagined them together—in some fancy hotel suite, groping around in bed. It almost made him laugh. Kesselring would be in for a disappointment when he discovered pretty little Emma was a dud between the sheets. But Kesselring wasn’t going to have the chance to find out. No one cheated on Drew Latimer. He was going to drive that point home very shortly.
She was half dreaming when the limo stopped. With a sigh, she settled her head on Drew’s shoulder as he led her into the lobby.
“I feel as though I’ve been up all night.” On a sleepy laugh, she snuggled against him. “And the whole night seems like a dream. I don’t think I can manage to wait up for the reviews.”

It was as though she were floating, Emma thought. And it felt wonderful. She slipped out of her wrap the moment they were in the door. “I think I’ll—”
He hit her. A resounding blow that sent her tumbling down the two tiled stairs into the living room. Moaning, she touched a hand to the side of her face. “Drew?”
“Bitch. You sneaky, conniving bitch.”
Dazed, she watched him advance on her. Instinct had her trying to slide away. “Drew, don’t. Please. What did I do?”
He yanked her up by the hair, slapping her again before she could scream. “You know what you did. You whore.” When he punched a fist into her breast, she sank bonelessly to the floor. “All night, all fucking night I had to stand around, smiling, pretending to care about your stupid pictures. Do you think anybody came to see them?” He hauled her up by the shoulders, leaving reddening trails where his fingers bit in. “Do you think anybody cares about you? They came to see Brian McAvoy’s little girl. They came to see Drew Latimer’s wife. You’re nothing.” He tossed her down.
“Oh God, please, don’t hit me again. Please.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” To emphasize his point, he kicked her, missing her ribs but connecting hard against her hip. “You think you’re so smart, so special. I’m the one they want to see. And I’m the one who runs things around here. You remember that.”
“Yes.” She tried to curl up, praying he would leave her there until the pain went away. “Yes, I remember.”
“Did Michael come to see you?” He grabbed her hair again, dragging her over onto her back.
“Michael?” Dazed, she shook her head. The pain rolled inside it. “No. No.”
“Don’t lie to me.” He struck her over and over, open-palmed, the back of the hand, until she didn’t feel anything. “You had it all planned, didn’t you? ‘Oh, I’m so tired, Drew. I’m going right to sleep.’ Then you were going to sneak out and sleep with him. Weren’t you?”
She shook her head, but he hit her again.
“Admit it, you wanted to fuck him. Admit it.”
“Yes.”
“That’s why you wore this dress, you wanted to show off your legs and those useless little tits of yours.”

Dimly, she remembered that Drew had chosen the dress. Hadn’t he chosen it? She couldn’t be sure.
“And you had your hands all over him. Letting him paw you right there in front of everybody. You wanted him, didn’t you?”
She nodded. She had hugged Michael. And for a moment, when he’d been warm and solid against her, she had felt something. She couldn’t remember what. She couldn’t remember anything.
“You’re not going to see him again, are you?”
“No.”
“Not ever.”
“No, I won’t see him.”
“And you won’t wear this whore’s dress again.” He hooked a hand in the bodice and ripped it down the center. “You deserve to be punished, Emma, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Her mind was floating in and out. She’d spilled her mam’s perfume. She wasn’t supposed to touch Mam’s things. She was a bad, nasty girl and needed to be punished.
“It’s for your own good.”
She didn’t scream again until he pushed her onto her stomach and began to beat her with his belt. She had stopped screaming