31. Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-One

C andy

The night air is thick, humid, pressing down on me like a physical weight as I make my way deeper into the park. My heart pounds a staccato rhythm against my ribs, my palms slick with sweat where they clench at my sides.

I'm not alone. Courage and Fury are out there, watching, listening, waiting. But in this moment, facing the looming shadows ahead, I've never felt more isolated, more exposed. Part of me knows this is crazy. I'm walking into the lion's den with my backup a block away.

I've never been at a bigger crossroads in my life. I can either let fear of exposure hang over me forever or take a stand here and now. Besides, I huff a mirthless laugh. The whole world has seen my coochie. So what if they see the stupid, desperate behavior of a mixed-up teen?

Two figures emerge from the darkness, their faces twisted into smirking expressions of cold disdain. Raskins and Blackwell—the men who have haunted my nightmares for years.

"Candy, Candy, Candy," Blackwell tuts, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "You just couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? An informer warned us of your interview. We had a stealth drone in the air at that Airbnb and heard every word you said, saw every pathetic tear you cried. Poor little Candy."

Raskins steps closer, his predatory gaze raking over me, making my skin crawl. "You've been a very naughty girl, Candy. Running your mouth, stirring up trouble. Didn't we teach you better than that?"

His words send a chill through my blood as memories flicker through my mind like a horror movie on fast-forward. Raskins' hands on my body, his hot breath on my neck as he whispered threats and promises in equal measure.

"I… I'm not afraid of you anymore." I hate the way my voice shakes, so I muster more venom when I add, "I'm done living in fear."

Raskins laughs, harsh and grating. "Is that what you think this is about? Fear?" He steps close enough that I reflexively retreat. "No, sweetheart. This is about power. And you never had any, not really."

Bile rises in my throat, tears stinging my eyes. How often did I cry myself to sleep over studio incidents that left me powerless? And how many times did I wake up the next day and go back to that set so I could support my family—as a teenager?

One moment still haunts me. Sitting in Raskins' office, desperation clawing at my throat as I begged him not to fire me, to give me another chance.

"Please," I had whispered, hands twisting in my lap. "I'll do anything. Anything you want."

My gut churns at the memory. I hate my younger self for that and God, I love her, too. She was willing to sacrifice everything, even her self-esteem, to ensure money kept coming in to support her parents' lifestyle.

I remember it in such vivid detail—the gleam in Raskins' eye and the slow, predatory curl of his lips. Even then, he had known the depths of my despair and how far I would go to keep the only life I had ever known.

And he had reveled in it, savored my anguish like a fine wine, although for some reason he never took full advantage of my vulnerability.

"You've always thought you meant something," Blackwell sneers, dragging me back to the present. "Always thought you were special. But the truth is, you're nothing. Just another disposable starlet."

"You're going to make accusations against us? We're Hollywood elite. You know why? We bring in dollars . No one will ever believe you," Raskins chimes in, his smirk cutting me to the bone. "It's your word against ours, and who do you think they'll choose? The powerful, respected producers, or the washed-up former child star with a history of bad behavior?"

Their words batter against me like fists, each blow striking at the fragile, hard-won sense of self I've fought so long to build.

I feel myself crumbling, my resolve cracking under the weight of their cruelty, their certainty.

Maybe they're right. Maybe I'm nothing, no one. Just a broken doll, a cautionary tale.

But something buried deep inside me swims to the top, banishing my fear and giving me strength to speak my truth. It's Courage. His belief in me. His faith in me. His support and strength now give me the courage I need to do this.

"You're both predators. Maxwell, maybe you didn't do the deeds, but you knew full well what was happening on set twenty-three—the systematic decimation of children's self-esteem, the bullying, the sexualized scripts that we were too young to know were filled with despicable innuendo."

I'm stunned they're letting me talk, but nothing could stop me now.

"And you, Sam, you were right there leading the charge. The grooming, the threats, the way you played us against each other, giving more lines and juicier parts to the girls who were more… compliant. You're both users. You, Sam, for sex. And you, Maxwell, all in service to the bottom line. I hope you both rot in hell."

"It's still about the bottom line, Candy." Maxwell's voice is so condescending I wish I had claws and fangs like Courage and could leap at him and tear out his jugular. "We can't let you share your story with the world. You need to call Broken Starlets and tell them to destroy the recording of you spilling your guts."

As helplessness whirls through me like a tornado, Courage's voice, lower than I've ever heard it and laced with ferocity, cuts through the darkness like a beacon.

"That's not going to happen."

He steps out of the shadows, Fury at his side, their faces set in identical masks of determination and protective rage.

"We've got your confession on tape." Courage's words are slightly distorted through his snarl; his fangs on full display. "Candy's everything good and brave and true in this world. And I won't let you try to destroy her."

Fury nods, his claws flexing at his sides. "And we have all the proof we need to take you down. Now that we have videos and recordings, they'll bolster the testimony from Candy and the other victims. It's over, you sick fucks."

Blackwell blanches, fear flickering across his face before he smooths it away. "You're bluffing."

"Are we?" Fury takes a step forward, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. Looking at their faces, I swear their fangs are longer. Even their claws look more deadly. "Try us, motherfucker. See how that works out for you."

For a moment, the world seems to hold its breath. Raskins and Blackwell exchange a glance, something unspoken passing between them.

"Shoot them!" Blackwell yells.

Courage and Fury both laugh. "We've already taken care of the two men in the woods. Unconscious and ziptied. It was easy. They didn't see us coming."

And then Raskins laughs, the sound brittle and mocking. "Fine. You want to play hardball? Let's play."

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cell phone. "You're not the only ones with evidence, sweetheart. How do you think the world will react when they see their precious Candy Wood begging to suck my cock to keep her job? My phone is primed to release the video to the media with one push of a button."

The blood drains from my face, my stomach twisting with nausea. No. He can't. He wouldn't.

But the look in his eyes, the cruel twist of his mouth, tells me he absolutely would.

"One click." His goading voice is almost a whisper, it's dangerous, lethal. "That's all it takes. One click, and your life is over. Your career, your reputation, your entire future… all gone."

I can't breathe. Can't think. The world is spinning, tilting on its axis. I'm fifteen again. Helpless, powerless, alone.

And then, Courage is there, his body pressed against my back. Though he keeps both hands free in case he needs to fight, his scent envelops me, grounds me.

"Don't you fucking dare." His voice is a growl, a promise of violence barely restrained. "You release that video, and I swear to the Goddess, I will end you."

Fury steps closer to the men. The look of menace on his face is terrifying even though I know it's not directed at me. "You're done, Raskins. You and Blackwell both. There's no coming back from this."

Blackwell's face twists, ugly with rage and fear. "You can't touch us. We're heroes in the industry. You're nothing but a couple of mangy mutts playing at being heroes."

"Maybe so." Courage wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me tighter. "But we're the mutts who are going to bring you down. You've hurt your last victim, you soulless piece of shit."

It happens in a blur. Blackwell holds a knife unsteadily in his hand as he lunges. Fury meets him halfway, easily knocking the weapon out of his hand while Courage moves from behind me, faster than humanly possible, and smacks the cell phone out of Sam's hand.

The night air echoes with snarls and shouts and the dull thud of fists on flesh. Raskin tries to run, but Courage is faster, his claws sinking into the man's expensive suit as he flings him to the ground.

Shaking, tears streaming down my face, I watch the wolven subdue the monsters who have haunted me for so long.

It's over in only a few heart-pounding minutes, though it feels like a lifetime. When the dust settles, Raskins and Blackwell are on the ground, beaten and bloody, Fury and Courage standing over them with grim smiles.

"The police are on their way." Courage holds up a cell phone. "I called them right before we stepped out; they'd said enough to incriminate themselves. They should be here any second."

"We still have the flash drive in a safe, you little bitch," Blackwell threatens through swollen, bloody lips.

"And, with that confession, the cops have what they need to get a search warrant for every property you both own." The smug smile on Fury's face, showing all four of his fearsome fangs, has both humans cringing.

It's as though the sun breaks through a gray sky. From one moment to the next, everything feels okay.

So what if the recording leaks? The world would see a desperate teen making a salacious offer. Everyone will also know the context. They'll know the network execs were the predators and I was the prey. Public opinion won't go against me. If Maury were here, he'd tell me it would be good publicity.

Courage slides an arm around my waist and peers at me, his expression shining with love. "Are you okay?" His eyes search mine, dark with concern.

Taking a shuddering breath, I lean into his touch. "No," I answer honestly. "But I will be."

Pulling back, my palms press against his pecs. "What the fuck? Courage, you're bigger. Your fangs are longer." I look over at Fury who is still standing over the groaning men on the ground, looking mighty proud of himself. "Fury is too. Did you guys pop some steroids or something?"

Courage makes a sound between a huff and a snort. "We shifted to our fighting form, our warrior forms. Our elders told us this happens with extreme emotions such as rage. It's the first time it's happened to me. Don't worry, we'll change back when the adrenaline clears out of our system."

The sound of sirens fills the air, red and blue lights painting the scene. It's over. I sigh with relief and watch in amazement as Courage and Fury slowly transform to their still formidable sizes, their lower fangs retreating back into their mouths and their claws retracting out of sight.

Detached, I observe as Raskins, Blackwell, and the other two men who are now conscious are hauled to their feet, cuffed, and shoved into the back of waiting squad cars.

It's surreal, dreamlike. A moment I've imagined a thousand times but never truly believed would arrive.

But here it is. My reckoning, my justice. My freedom.

Sagging against Courage, my legs give out as adrenaline and relief crash over me in waves. He bears my weight easily, his arms strong and sure around me, his heart beating steady and true against my ear.

"It's over," he murmurs into my hair, rocking me gently. "You did it, Candy. You won."

And he's right. This is my victory, hard-fought and so long in the making. But it's not just mine.

It belongs to Samantha, Veronica, Lila, and every child who was ever made to feel small, helpless, and worthless at the hands of perpetrators like Raskins and Blackwell.

It belongs to the frightened child I was, and the survivor I've become.

My elation fades as the police question us until my head is spinning. Finally, they let us go, saying they'll be in touch.

As the squad car pulls away, I feel something unfurl inside my chest.

Not peace, not yet. But something close.

Optimism.

And a burning question: What happens next?