I ran to Lance’s room, checking my watch frantically in the elevator. “I hope he is not there. Oh God, I hope he’s not there,” I anguished.
I promised that the second he got back I would hold him as tight as I could, then I would break down the full story of my past, everything. I wouldn’t leave out any detail. I cared for him enough to tell him the truth, and if he did care about me as much as he had implied to his friends, then he would understand. So I raced to our room; my legs couldn’t run fast enough.

At the door, as I fidgeted with my keys, I felt cold hands on me, hurling me inside.

“Nikki, we better talk.” Nick was in frenzy. His strong hands practically tossed me inside the room. I looked behind him and saw an angry burly bodyguard waiting out in the doorway.

“What is this, Nick, stop it, you’re hurting me,” I cried out in pain. His hands were digging deep into my skin. He threw me into the room, falling me to the ground. He looked disheveled: his hair was out of place, and his clothes were rumpled, and sweaty. His eyes held inner rage that I had never seen in him before. “Nick, stop it you’re scaring me. What is this?” I held my chest, steadying my breath. I looked around the room, no signs of Lance, and no voices from the adjoining room.

“It’s the police. They followed us down to LA, and I just went through a line of questions for 2 hours with a police officer just because of you. What is going on? I want to know and I want to know NOW,” he demanded with his voice stronger and louder than his singing voice.

I let my head drop to my hands. I was scared and he was scaring me now. I couldn’t believe the cops would have actually followed me to LA. What did they want, what was this about, and what had mama told them?
Nick stood in front of me, tapping his feet in anguish. “I’m waiting Nikki, speak up.” His voice held no pity.

I felt the tears swell in my eyes. I had no choice now, if I wanted Nick and the bodyguards to protect me from all the oncoming danger, I had to tell him the truth---- the truth of my past.

With a heavy heart, I started off my sordid tale.