One Year Later
Los Angeles, CA
The dark and hazy apartment where everything had gone wrong.
The laughter she could hear coming from down in the front room.
The smell of cheap alcohol and even cheaper cigarettes.
The squeak of the bedsprings as she fell back on the mattress.
The feel of his mouth covering her own.
The sound of his familiar voice whispering her name, calling her ‘baby.’
The fear when she tried to speak but found she couldn’t say a word.
The horror of wishing she could stop him, but having her hands restrained.
The feel of his hands on her body--touching her where no one had before.
The pain and humiliation when she realized her life would never be the same.
The darkness that threatened to suffocate her.
Twenty-six year old Rachel Kline sat up, her heart pounding, her body covered in a cold sweat. She tried to move her arms but found them restrained, a terrified scream tearing from her throat as her still sleep-induced mind was convinced he was there”holding her down once again. Struggling frantically she looked down and realized she had only become tangled in her sheets. Kicking them to the floor she sat in the middle of her queen sized bed trying to catch her breath, praying for relief from the terror that was flooding her system. Rachel put her face in her hands, her long blonde hair falling forward as the adrenaline pumped through her veins, and the emotions associated with the nightmare she’d just had, threatening to overtake her.
A single tear slid down her cheek as she worked to calm her rapid breathing.
Rachel swiped at it angrily. It had been almost four years and he still haunted her dreams, causing her pain. Just when she thought she was finally over and done with the whole traumatic experience, she would have that dream again and be thrown back to that night, forced to relive the nightmare yet again. Sometimes it was a TV show that would set if off, or a scene from a movie. Sometimes she would catch a whiff of someone’s cheap cigarette as she was walking down the street and her heart would begin to pound. Sometimes she would see a head of curly brown hair as she was out at night and panic, thinking he had found her. Sometimes there would be no reason at all. Damn you, Brian. Rachel thought, drawing her knees up and hugging them to her chest. Why won’t you leave me alone?
The sudden beeping of her alarm clock startled her already frayed nerves. Rachel reached over and hit the snooze button a little harder than was perhaps necessary, then lay down, grabbing one of her pillows and curling her body around it. As she lay there, contemplating whether or not to call in sick, her blackberry beeped from where she had laid it on her dresser last night, alerting her to a new message.
With a sigh, Rachel sat up and put her feet on the floor, tugging the hem of her pink tank top down over her slender hips. Opening the message she’d received she rolled her eyes. “So much for taking the day off.” She said to no one in particular. “New client consultation.” She read aloud, “Great! Thanks for the advanced warning Mark.” She grumbled as she skimmed the rest of the message from her boss as he gave her the address and time of the appointment. “Nine-thirty.” Rachel looked over her shoulders at the alarm clock she had abused moments ago. 7:15 the numbers read. Rachel looked back at the address on her phone. “I hope I make it in time.” She grumbled as she threw the phone on her bed and hurried into the shower. L.A. traffic was legendary and since moving to California Rachel had often become a victim to it. As she shed her tank-top and black dancer shorts and stepped under the spray of water she prayed to the traffic gods that there would be no snarl ups on the I-10 this morning. As a first year interior design graduate, she was still pretty new at her company and eager to make a good impression on her boss and her clients and she had a feeling that being late to this particular appointment would prove unfortunate for her and the company.
~~~
“Idiot!” Rachel exclaimed an hour later, hitting the steering wheel of the dark grey Volkswagen Jetta she had purchased last Spring. Up until then she had been driving the same beat up old white Jeep Cherokee she’d had since high school. It had been hard saying goodbye to that car, but she knew she had needed something a little more reliable, and something that would make a better impression on people as she was just staring out in her career.
“I’m sorry,” Megan voice came through the earpiece Rachel was wearing. “I didn’t know you’d be so opposed to that idea.” Megan chuckled.
“No.” Rachel grumbled to her best friend. “It’s not you. It’s these stupid L.A. drivers! Why doesn’t anyone look where they’re going?!” She yelled at the red car that had cut her off as she passed it. “I swear,” Rachel said, looking over her shoulder before she signaled to change lanes again. “One of these days…”
“Deep breaths, Ray.” Megan counseled. “Deep breaths.”
“Shut up.” Rachel replied as she adjusted her sunglasses and gripped the steering wheel for a second. Taking a deep breath, as Megan had counseled, Rachel rolled her shoulders and relaxed her arms.
“So, like I was saying.” Megan continued with another chuckle. “Jackson’s meeting with a couple clients out there next month. I was thinking--”
“Is he meeting with JC?” Rachel asked, hating the excited skip her heart gave at the mention of Jackson’s clients. Megan’s husband Jackson was a stock-broker and financial advisor who had worked in L.A. until moving to Phoenix several years ago. The company he worked for in Arizona specialized in corporate accounts, but he had retained a few private clients from California, including JC, which caused him to fly back to L.A. to meet with them regularly.
“Maybe.” Megan responded. Rachel could hear her friend rolling her eyes in frustration. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”
“What do you mean you didn’t ask? That is important information to have! How exactly are you supposed to fulfill your duty as my spy if you never have the information I need?”
“Move on, Ray.” Megan chuckled. “It’s been a year. Have you heard from him, at all, since my reception? No. I’m pretty sure it was one of those once in a lifetime things. Just count yourself as one of the lucky ones and move on. Aren’t you glad now that you didn’t sleep with him?”
“Hey, you never know.” Rachel defended, getting butterflies as she thought back to her brief yet incredibly hot and steamy encounter with one, JC Chasez at Megan and Jackson’s wedding reception a year ago. “Since I’m living here now, I could meet up with him again.”
“Yeah, and remind me, how many celebrities have you run into since living there?” Megan answered. Rachel could almost see her friend roll her eyes.
“Well…none.” Rachel answered. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t. Remember how I’m pretty sure I saw Tom Cruise driving past me on the freeway the other day?”
“Anyway,” Megan chuckled as she changed the topic back to their original conversation. “I’m thinking of coming with Jackson when he flies out there next month. What are you doing the weekend of the third?” Megan asked.
“Partying with my best friend.” Rachel answered as she exited the freeway and stopped at a red light. She reached over to her sketchbook lying on the passenger seat and flipped it open looking for the address Mark had sent her this morning. The design company she had interned with last summer had offered her a full-time position when she graduated. In May she had packed up her stuff and moved to the land of endless sun and constant movie star sightings. It had been hard saying goodbye to her best friend Megan but, knowing that Megan had Jackson now and that she was only separated by a short airplane ride, made the distance a little easier to handle--not to mention the fact that Megan often tagged along when Jackson came into town.
Megan snorted in derision. “I don’t know how much partying I’m going to be able to do, but we’ll do what we can.”
“How are you feeling?” Rachel asked as she found the piece of paper she’d written the address on and the light turned green. She flipped her turn signal and turned right, heading north.
“Better, now that I’m past the whole morning sickness stage. That was fun, let me tell you.” Megan said sarcastically. Rachel chuckled. “Now that I can make it through the day without feeling like I’m going to either pass out or loose what little I was able to keep down,” her friend continued, “life is getting back to normal.”
“That’s good.” Rachel said. “Any weird cravings?”
“Not yet.” Megan answered.
“How’s Jackson doing?”
“He’s driving me nuts.” Megan answered truthfully. “Sometimes I wish he would just back off, you know? He’s so excited about the baby, but he’s taken on this whole new protective stance with me, it’s kind of annoying. I can’t lift anything heavier than a loaf of bread if he’s around without him flipping out. He’s being ridiculous.”
“He’s only doing it because he loves you.”
“I know, I know.” Megan sighed. “I shouldn’t complain, but I’ve been really moody lately and he’s been getting on my nerves.”
“You’re always moody.” Rachel teased.
“Hey!” Megan laughed. “Not true!”
Rachel laughed as she pulled into a very swanky neighborhood. “Remember how I’ve known you for most of your life? I think I’m qualified to make that assessment.” Megan laughed again. Rachel whistled appreciatively at the houses she was passing. “Okay,” she said, “what is it with rich people who feel the need to redecorate their house whenever they have a party or company over? Having a gorgeous mansion decorated with the best money can buy isn’t enough? Is there some celebrity code of conduct that says over night guests have to see different pictures and throw pillows each time they visit?”
“Let me guess,” Megan laughed. “New client?”
“Yeah…” Rachel pulled up to the gate of the enormous house. “I got this address sent to me this morning and was told the guy is looking to redo a couple rooms and wants a quote. Megs, you should see this house, it’s unbelievable.”
“You’ll have to drive me by it when I’m out there in a few weeks.”
“Oh, definitely. Hold on, I have to buzz the house.” Rachel leaned out her window and pressed the intercom button located outside the large wrought iron gate barring the driveway.
“Yeah?” Came a distracted, yet distinctly masculine voice a few seconds later.
“Hi. I’m Rachel Kline, from Adams and Richards Design. I have an app--”
“Oh yeah, come on in.” The voice cut her off as the gate started swinging inwards.
“That was kind of rude,” Megan said, “the way he cut you off like that.”
“You know these rich people.” Rachel shrugged. “They feel they’re above all the rest of us lowly commoners who actually have to work for a living.”
“So, who do you think this guy is?” Megan asked. “Musician? Movie star? Millionaire?”
“I don’t know.” Rachel laughed as she slowly drove up the large drive and parked in front of the house. She turned the car off and ran a hand through her long hair, quickly reapplied some lip gloss and picked up her portfolio and sketch book. “There was no name. Just an address and an appointment time. But I’ll call and let you know if it’s anyone interesting.”
“You better.” Megan said.
“I will, I promise. I gotta go.”
“Alright.” Megan said. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I can’t wait. Tell Jackson hi.”
“I will. Bye!”
Rachel smiled as she stepped out of her car, making sure her cell phone was set on vibrate and shut the car door. Walking up to the front door she straightened the black suit jacket she was wearing over her favorite red camisole, ran a hand down the front of her gray slacks and rang the bell. She turned to look over the expansive grounds in front of the house, turning and taking off her sunglasses when she heard someone unlock the door. Rachel pasted on her best business smile, as she prepared to be greeted by yet another butler. What was it with celebrities? She often complained. Too good to open their own front door? Her smile, however, faltered and she fought to hold onto the notebooks in her hand as her eyes connected with a pair of very familiar, blue eyes. His smile caused her insides to quiver as she suddenly remembered the way those lips had moved and felt against her own. He looked great, standing there in a pair of dark jeans and a plain dark grey T-shirt. His hair was covered by a black ball cap, his feet were bear and Rachel had to remind herself to breathe as the all too familiar scent of his aftershave hit her.
“Come on in.” He said, opening the door wider and stepping back. Rachel automatically stepped through the door and into the foyer of his house as he shut the door behind her. “I’m sorry.” He said that trademark grin of his doing a number on her. “What did you say your name was?”
“Uh…Rachel.” She said shifting her portfolio and sketchbook to her other arm and holding out her right hand. He took her hand in his and she felt tingles shoot up her arm and down her spine as once again, the memory of the feel of his hands as they had caressed her hitting her full force. “Rachel Kline.” She somehow managed to spit out as she looked up into his eyes.
“Rachel.” He smiled and she about fainted at the sight of that smile and the sound of her name on his lips. She’d never really liked her name”always thinking it was kind of plain and ordinary”but when he said it, it was pretty much the sexiest thing she’d ever heard. She thought for a moment there was a spark of recognition in his eyes and couldn’t help the giddy excitement she felt as his eyes traveled down her body and back up again. “Have we…” He shook his head as he released her hand. “Nevermind. It’s nice to meet you. I’m JC.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Story Tags: love jc drunkjc
