Chapter 37: Carter

Carter was makinga list of the things in his life that had backfired spectacularly. Featured prominently on said list were things like the tattoo he'd gotten when he was seventeen to piss off his neglectful parents (they did not care), his decision to go into television (forced to endure projects like this one), and the asinine idea to allow his contestants to shuffle around again.

He hadn't changed his mind about the audience needing more than one couple to root for at the end but it was a close call when he'd realized that this paired Cora up with that handsy little rodent.

She still hadn't spoken to him and it, quite frankly, pissed him off that her final memories of this manor would be batting away Maxon instead of inviting Carter's touch. Maybe it was masochistic for him to stand over his screens, arms crossed and brow sweating. He gave up on telling himself that the glaring white lights were the source of his temperature because he was over pretending Cora didn't affect him and the lights were LEDs anyway.

Knowing it would be a gut punch, he programmed his headset to pick up the audio feed from the microphones in her room.

"Man, I missed this," Maxon told her.

He was standing across the room in just his boxers. His arms were spread out to the sides, gesturing to the room that was near-identical to the ones he'd previously stayed in. Cora's only response was a tight smile, more polite than Maxon deserved, while she kept her focus on the hair she was brushing out.

Carter's fingers longed to do that for her. Longed to make her feel pampered and cherished after he treated her like his little whore. She'd probably call him pet names while he did it, too, and then he could fall asleep to her cherried lips saying perfectly-sugared praises.

Thatwas the forever he saw. Not the sneaking around and the secrets and the threat of getting caught but the loving domesticity that he'd never even felt like he wanted before her.

"Be honest," Maxon continued. "You're glad you're back with me and not stuck with Foster."

Cora flexed her fingers around the base of her hairbrush and snapped, "Foster was a great partner and you should be grateful to him for volunteering to go."

Maxon only snorted. "It wasn't my life on the line. I know exactly what went down in your little girls' meeting. I mean, why else would you guys keep me around if one of you didn't want another chance with me?"

She slammed the brush back into the drawer and stomped into the main suite. Her stature and her cute little pajamas weren't enough to mask her irritation.

"It's by some miracle that you're still here, Killer," she said. "And it was your name on the block before you all voted Dani out. We only switched because we didn't want to leave Maia without a partner."

Maxon shrugged. "I'm not really turned on when girls are mean to me so you might want to tone it down."

Both Cora and Carter rolled their eyes. "Everything turns you on."

"You definitely do."

"I thought you didn't like mean girls."

"Maybe I got used to it with Maia."

"Maybe you're just lowering your standards because no one's fucked you in over a month."

Carter wasn't proud of the laugh that rumbled out of him but he wasn't exactly ashamed, either. Cora was painfully correct. Really, Carter didn't know how Maxon had ever pulled off the golden boy ruse because spending more than eight seconds with the boy revealed just how sex-crazed, narcissistic, and idiotic he was.

He'd have to have a word with casting to ensure another like him didn't pop up in the future.

Not that Carter cared. Or that he'd even be around to oversee future series.

Still…for the safety of the contestants, it was probably important.

"Yeah, it's a fucking travesty that they've locked us up in here without access to sex. Like, we have needs, you know?"

Cora slid her gaze quite pointedly to the bedside table where production had provided copious safety measures, tools, and toys that would allow for exactly what Maxon wanted.

"Just because you're not getting any," she said slowly, "doesn't mean that no one else is."

Maxon took her cue and stomped to the nightstand, yanking out the supplies that had been carefully packed. "None of this stuff has been touched so you clearly weren't fucking Foster. Who was it, then?"

Cora clenched her jaw and took nearly-imperceptible steps toward the door. That had red flaring in Carter's vision and he was a breath away from bolting down to that room.

Cora backed up another step and said, "I didn't say that I was—just that you weren't."

"Then I guess I can solve both our problems."

Menace lit the man's eyes as he bounded towards Cora, which was unfortunate for him because Carter could match that menace and far exceed it. He threw down his headset, giving into the impulse to go to their suite. It was a blessing he didn't run into any of his staff but he didn't think they would have stopped him, anyway. Really, he didn't think they could.

If he were being rational, Carter would have asked himself what exactly he thought Maxon was going to do. He knew he was on camera and he hadn't actually done anything egregious, to Carter's knowledge. That look, though. That was a man who was beyond his limit. And those men were unpredictable.

The door to their suite gave swiftly with a swipe of Carter's employee card and seeing Cora there, pressed against the wall as Maxon cornered her, her face turned away as he grew ever closer…it was like a shot of adrenaline to Carter's system. He was ready to demand Maxon leave but then he caught the tail end of what the other man had spat.

"—back in your place, you self-righteous slut."

Carter's professionalism had been long-gone before he'd heard that. Still, the insult to his woman shredded any remaining pretense of it. Who was he to call her that? Sure, Carter'd sprinkled a few names in when he'd been fucking her, but they'd never been meant to tear her down. Yes, she was his little slut but she was also his equal and they could play with the titles. There was nothing in Maxon's tone that suggested he was ready to play and there was nothing in his words that suggested he thought of Cora as his equal.

And to put it plainly, that was unacceptable.

Much more unacceptable, Carter reasoned, than the way Carter ripped the contestant from Cora, curled his fist, and rammed it into Maxon's face. Blood spurted over his fingers, the warmth of it like a reward. And because Carter wasn't completely unhinged, he stopped himself from pursuing more. What he did not do was hold himself back for Cora's sake. She was sweet and empathetic but she wasn't a scared little girl and he was sure she'd see the necessity in Carter's actions.

Yes, one punch should just about do it if his goal was to simultaneously harm Maxon and ruin his own career.

"What the fuck?" Maxon bellowed, crouching down, away from Carter, and pressing his hands to his face. "What the fuck?"

Carter would let him recover for a moment because he had to check on Cora. He stepped in to take Maxon's place in front of her and gripped her by the shoulders. "Are you alright? Did he touch you?"

Cora shook her head but flinched when she caught Maxon moving in her peripheral. Carter couldn't have that. He pressed a firm kiss to her hair and swung to collect Maxon's arms, dragging him towards the door.

Maxon did not go quietly. "Let go of me! What the fuck, dude? Where are you taking me?"

"To seek medical attention" was Carter's even answer. "I believe your nose might be broken."

"Yeah…because you broke it!"

Carter ignored him in favor of instructing Cora to stay put. If he were really on a power trip, he might replace his hold on Maxon's arm with an equally aggressive hold on his ear but that was probably pushing it. "Let's talk about what happened tonight," Carter suggested instead, once they were down the hall a ways and he'd shot off a text message to their on-staff physician and the most trustworthy member of his team.

"Okay," Maxon agreed. "I was talking to my partner and you fucking barged into the room and assaulted me."

Carter raised an eyebrow. "Is that what happened?"

"Yes."

"See, from my perspective—and I'll remind you that my perspective is the one that controls the cameras and the mics—you were physically and verbally threatening a contestant under my care. And, per your contract, we retain the rights to remove you from the manor if participant safety is compromised."

"What about my safety, huh? I'm a participant," Maxon argued. "You just didn't care too much about that a couple minutes ago."

"Self-defense," Carter supplied, shrugging.

"It's not self-defense if you weren't the one being threatened, asshole."

"So you agree that you were threatening Cora."

That had the man's yapping jaw closing right quick. They made it a few more paces before he opened it again. "You know, my friend's a lawyer. He'll?—"

"I guarantee, for every lawyer you know, I know ten more powerful ones. I'd be wary of making any more threats if I were you, considering that's what got you into trouble in the first place."

Maxon had no response. Then, a turn or two later, he grumbled, "My nose fucking hurts."

"Mmm," Carter hummed. "And imagine where we might be if you'd actually laid your hands on her."

"Is something going on between the two of you? Are you the one she's been fucking?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Carter lied. And he found that he felt no fear at the idea of Maxon knowing of his and Cora's relationship. He had only one cause to lie right then, really. "But what I do know is that there is no world where you would be entitled and-or privy to that information, Mr. Moore."

Yes, it seemed the only drive Carter had behind hiding their relationship now was out of respect for Cora. Her reputation and her day-to-day within the manor, though they had so few left. It was her privacy that spawned the lie, not his own fear of retribution should his superiors gain knowledge of what their showrunner had gotten up to.

He might lose this job but, surely, he'd find another. One where he didn't have to hide. Hell, maybe it was the best thing for him to leave this network and find another that put him in charge of projects that actually suited him.

He'd leave extensive notes for whoever took over this project, of course.

Dr. Abara asked no questions of Carter when he showed up, Maxon in tow, partially because Carter had already briefed him and partially because the evidence of what had happened was all over Carter's knuckles. He refused the doctor's offers to look at him, though.

"Graciela will be by shortly to escort you to your new lodging for the evening," Carter told Maxon, though it was for Dr. Abara's benefit as well, considering he'd be the one keeping the rogue until Graciela arrived. "In the morning, you'll be supervised while you pack your suitcase and then you will be leaving the manor. If there's anything you need from your suite tonight, please tell me now so that I can get it to Graciela."

Realizing that neither the doctor nor this new member of the crew would be on his side, and he'd thus have no one to truly air his grievances to, Maxon mumbled off a pitiful list of inconsequential items that he could certainly survive a night without.

And then because Carter was feeling quite powerful, he asked, "Anything you'd like me say to Cora on your behalf?"

"Uh, no?"

"Try again."

With an apology he probably wouldn't bother to pass on, Carter made his way back to his girl.

She was on the bed when he returned. Sitting up and staring blankly at the door, soaking in the final minutes of light before they were denied it for the rest of the evening. She was painfully beautiful, and Carter might have wished for the darkness to come if it wasn't such a treat to look at her. She shot to her feet at his entrance.

"Are you okay?"

You, she'd said. Not him. So she had no interest in Maxon's well-being? Carter couldn't see why she would but it still felt good to hear the evidence of that apathy in her words.

To keep from making a fool out of himself, he set about collecting Maxon's requested items.

"Fine, thanks."

He grabbed the man's jumper and his slippers, a pair of flannel pants in case his room on the tropical island was chilly. He grabbed his mic pack and his hair gel. His melatonin and his toothbrush. Carter started when he realized he'd gotten a fleck of dried blood on the handle of the brush but only shrugged and placed the items haphazardly into the hallway.

Cora noticed, though.

"Is that your blood or his?"

"His, mostly," Carter answered. "Maybe a bit of mine, if my knuckles split."

He tried very hard not to revel in the way she sighed and took his hand. Tried not to read too much into whether this meant she cared or not. Though, he had to admit, he was starting to sway towards the former.

Cora led him into the bathroom, jerking the faucet handle to turn on the tap. Her little foot tapped impatiently and she brushed her own hand under the water every now and again to test its temperature. Once it was to her liking, she again collected Carter's hand and shoved it under the flow.

The water was perfectly tepid as she began cleaning his hands. Really, Carter couldn't look away. In front of him was a woman who was so wrong for him in almost every way and, yet, in absolutely none of the ways that mattered.

She was soft where he was gruff, offered sweetness where he could not. And yet she let him get away with none of the brooding or the insults or the attempts to push her away. At least, not until the very last.

Where he'd told her that they couldn't last forever.

"That wasn't what I meant, you know," he began to defend. Out loud. Forgetting that she wasn't actually in his head for how many of his thoughts she commanded.

She was less cleaning him now and more rubbing perfect, soothing circles over his hand—a hand that should have ached and yet it was like his body would not allow him to feel the pain of it because it knew he'd done it to defend her honor.

"What wasn't?"

"About—" He cleared his throat. "—about sneaking around. When I said it couldn't last forever, I didn't mean I wanted to stop."

He was beginning to think she was programmed to do the exact opposite of whatever he said, though, because she ceased her massage and turned off the faucet. "It had to stop at some point, didn't it?"

She wouldn't look at him, though. Only found a new task to fixate upon as she dried her hands and then passed the terrycloth back to Cater.

"But I didn't want to stop…us."

She scowled at the ground, trying to hide her face from him and not realizing he could see her in the mirror. "So you were just going to strut on out to the backyard and announce that we were fucking? Carter, what about your career? You'd lose your job."

If she was going to insult what they had, she'd need to have the decency to look him in the eye while she did it. With the hand she'd just nursed, he took her chin and lifted it.

"Is that all we were doing, baby?" he challenged. "Just fucking?"

She didn't want him to notice how she melted into his touch but he did.

Cora ripped herself from him and stomped back into the bedroom. "I don't know. Last time I tried to ask what we were, it didn't exactly go over well."

Don't expect me to fight for someone who doesn't want me.

He'd replayed that conversation over and over and, every time, he came up short on how he'd ever led her to believe he didn't want her. All he could do was want her, it seemed. She didn't know it, the way he broke all the rules for her? She couldn't tell, when he couldn't see through the fear in his eyes every time she was threatened with elimination?

She didn't know he wanted her, even when he claimed her body?

It seemed Cora had their confrontation on repeat, as well, because she smirked. "You know, when I said I wouldn't fight for someone who doesn't want me, I didn't expect anyone to actually start throwing punches."

"I'd punch him again if it would prove it to you."

"It might."

But when he started towards the door, she wouldn't let him go. She didn't actually say anything, though. Only held onto him in a squeezing, bruising vise.

"I want you, Cora," he told her because he wasn't sure what else he was supposed to say. "However you want me to prove it to you, I will. I don't think I can take another day of this."

"You don't like the distance?" she asked.

"You know I don't."

"Are you gonna punish me for it?" she teased.

"I probably should."

"What if I told you not to?"

Carter groaned. He wasn't strong enough to withstand her mouth, right now. "Don't."

"You know, watching you go all caveman on Maxon was pretty hot," she whispered, dropping down to her knees in front of him. "Maybe instead of you punishing me, I should give you a reward."

Carter wasn't exactly sure how he'd gone from struggling to win her favor to winning the right to her sucking him off but his back straightened when her hands started to reach. He cursed, not because of those first anticipatory sensations of her fingers on his zipper but because the lights flickered off around them. How had they fucking missed the announcements?

"Stay right the fuck there," he growled before he rampaged back to the master controls and slammed the lights for Cora's suite. It was only good sense that had him grabbing the remote, too.

Before he made his way back to her, though, he snuck a glance at her in the monitor, sitting so sweetly for him on her knees. So she was capable of following orders.

That glimpse should have reminded him that everything they were about to do would be recorded and yet it hardly slowed him down.

She was so fucking worth it.