The Right Swipe (Modern Love, #1)(72)

“I don’t care what your relationship with Rhiannon was, but if you ever speak to her like that again, if you ever ignore her request to leave her alone, I will find you. One hit is all it would take. Understand?”

“Yes,” Peter choked out.

Samson waited a beat, then stepped back, releasing him. “Leave,” he said, and Peter bolted like his feet were on fire.

Samson closed the door and looked at Rhiannon. “You okay?”

She should say yes. She should nod and grab her sweatshirt and put it on. Layers on layers. No vulnerabilities.

But instead, she sank to the side of the bed and dropped her head into her shaking hands. The bed depressed next to her, and a big hand rubbed up and down her back in a soothing motion.

This wasn’t so much a reaction to Peter scaring her, though that was part of it. No, this was about Samson.

He’d come, right when she’d asked him to. She hadn’t really even doubted that he’d come, not if he got her text. When had she decided to trust him like that? When was the last time she’d dared to trust a man like that?

Hope, her enemy. It had crept in and taken root.

The remnants of fear and anxiety twisted her up inside. He scooted closer and she pressed herself against him, pathetically grateful for his warmth. “I’m scared of the dark.”

“What?”

Her words spilled over each other. “It’s me. Not Peter. My little brother went missing one day during a game of hide-and-seek. I went looking for him and got locked in a shed. They didn’t find me for almost nine hours.” Her mom’s employer had taken an ax to the door, because no one had had a key to the old shed. She could still recall the smell of her mother’s sweat when they’d gotten her out. “I’m not claustrophobic, but I can’t stand the dark.”

He seemed to know exactly what she needed and when, because he shifted and drew her into his lap. He squeezed her so hard, she made a noise. He loosened his grip immediately, but she rested her hand on his arm. “No, you know I like being held like that. Can you do it again?”

He squinted at her, but obliged. “You’ll have to tell me if I hurt you.”

“Tighter,” she said instead, and murmured happily when he complied. Her own little head-to-toe compression force.

“You two had a personal relationship? You and Peter?”

She was held so snug, it was like she was in her own world of comfort, a world where she could confess anything. “Peter and I dated when I was at Swype. He had pursued me for years, and it was flattering. He was a great boyfriend at first. Then he stopped being a great boyfriend. He started to make me feel . . . small. I hated it. It took me a couple months, but I ended things.”

“And you left Swype?”

“I didn’t want to, but I had to. Because I stopped sleeping with him.” She hadn’t realized her hands had tightened into fists until her nails cut into her skin. “He couldn’t fire me because of my contract. So he set out to tell everyone I was a gold-digging whore who was terrible at my job. People in the company, people out of it. He harassed me daily until I cried every day on my way to and from work. He told me he’d stop if I came back to him. How could I go back to him after that?”

“Why didn’t you sue him?”

“He told me he’d destroy me if I did. When we were together, we sexted. He had sent me some sexy photos. I’d reciprocated. Nudes. A video. We were dating, it was fine.” Her voice faltered. “If his nudes got out, he’d be high-fived. If mine got out, I mean, now, yes. I could spin them, it wouldn’t hurt my business. But they’d still be out there. Everyone would see me.” Naked. She shuddered and burrowed deeper into his embrace.

His exhale was long and low. “When we were filming, you said you wanted our footage in your control. Makes sense now, after what he did.”

She nodded. “Quitting felt like I was admitting to everything he was saying about me, but I didn’t know what else to do. He gave me a settlement for a fraction of what I was owed, and I left.” Her smile was bitter. “He kept those photos quiet, but the damage was done. Everyone believed him or, at least, was wary of me. Getting a job at the same or higher position seemed impossible. If it hadn’t been for Katrina putting up the money for Crush, I don’t know what I would have done.”

He kissed her neck. “I’m sorry that happened to you and I’m glad you had your friend. I’m going to punch Peter tomorrow. Don’t worry, I won’t really kill him.”

Her laugh was choked. He sounded suspiciously like Katrina. “Please don’t. No one can know about this, Samson. I mean it. Especially not Annabelle.”

He rubbed his hand up and down her back. “I can’t let Annabelle do business with a predator, Rhi.”

“He’s not a predator, not to anyone else.” She leaned back, more anxiety piling on. Why had she said anything? How could she have abandoned her usual tight-lipped stance on this subject? “He has a vendetta against me, personally, that’s all. Please don’t tell Annabelle. I can’t have him saying I won by snitching on him. I have to beat him fairly. I—”

“Okay, okay.” Samson pressed his finger over her lips. “I won’t tell Annabelle.”

She moved her head away so she could speak. “Promise?”